Keeper of the Lost Cities (40 page)

“I’m so sorry, Sophie,” Alden whispered, choking up. “When I think about what—”

“Don’t think about it,” she interrupted, hating to see him upset. “It’s over. I’m fine. And it’s not your fault.”

“In a way it is. I’m the one who declared your deaths and called off the search. If I hadn’t done that, we might’ve found you sooner.” He shook his head. “When they found your pendants in the ocean—and there had clearly been a tidal wave at the cave—I couldn’t see how it could be anything other than a tragic accident. I never considered kidnapping. I never thought the Black Swan would sink so low.”

“They didn’t. I don’t know who the kidnappers were, but they weren’t the Black Swan. In fact, I think the Black Swan rescued us.”

“That’s what Dex said. Are you sure?”

She nodded, trying to organize her memories—they were a muddled mess from the drugs. “I think the Black Swan are working against the kidnappers, and I think they sent me the notes and clues because they wanted me to stop the Everblaze.” She paused, not sure if she wanted to know the answer to the next question. “Do you think the kidnappers are the ones who started the Everblaze?”

Alden fiddled with his cloak. “It’s possible. Fintan claims innocence. But he also won’t submit to a probe—so he’s hiding something. And if we have an unregistered Pyrokinetic out there, I have no doubt Fintan knows something about it.”

“Why doesn’t the Council just order a memory break?”

“They want to give their friend a chance to see the error of his ways—and perhaps this new information will motivate him to confess. If not, they’ll order one. They’re just
trying
to avoid condemning him to a life of madness.”

“That’s his choice, if he won’t confess.”

“It is. But if you’d ever seen a memory break, you would understand their reluctance.” His shoulders trembled. “It’s haunting.”

Her thoughts flashed to Prentice. She didn’t know what he looked like—or even who he was—but he let his mind be broken to protect her, maybe from the same people who’d taken her and Dex. She wasn’t sure she deserved that sacrifice. Especially since it had also destroyed the lives of his family.

“I’m sure the memory break will be ordered,” Alden said, breaking the silence that had settled over them. “The Council is simply giving their friend every chance to help himself. Plus, they don’t want to believe he tried to single-handedly wipe out the human race. In the meantime, if there’s anything else you can remember that might help us find the kidnappers, now’s the time to tell me.”

There
was
something else—something big. But the memory was out of reach, repressed by the trauma. She stared at Alden’s hands as he fiddled with his cape. His pale, white hands.

She lunged for the memory log. “I’ve seen one of them.”

“What? When?”

“The man who tried to grab me in the human world the day Fitz brought me here. He had a dog bite on his hand. The kidnapper had a crescent-shaped scar in the same place.”

She projected the wound and the scar on a page and handed the memory log to Alden. One was fresh and bleeding and the other was a faded scar, but they were the same size and shape, and were even jagged in the same places. “See? He really was an elf—and he had been there to get me.”

“Yet another way I’ve failed to protect you.” Alden shook his head. “Do you remember what he looks like?”

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the memory, waiting until she’d recalled every detail before she sent it to the paper.

Her hands shook as she stared at the person who’d tied her up and drugged her—who’d been ready to kill Dex. He had short blond hair, piercing blue eyes, chiseled features—it seemed wrong for someone so handsome to be so evil.

Alden’s eyes pored over the image. “I don’t know him. It’s amazing he let you go the first time, with only a human to threaten him.”

“Well, Mr. Forkle could be . . .”

“Could be what?” Alden asked, when she didn’t continue.

Her mind was racing in too many directions to answer. She rubbed her temples, trying to think through the chaos of memories. She needed to be
really
sure of what she was about to say.

“Should I call Elwin?” Alden asked, rushing to his feet.

She grabbed his cape. “It was
him
.”

“What was?”

“Mr. Forkle.” She shook her head as she met Alden’s eyes. “Mr. Forkle rescued us.” The sentence was so bizarre it made her want to laugh. But she knew it was true.

“Mr. Forkle,” Alden repeated.

She nodded. “He started almost every sentence with ‘you kids.’ The man who rescued us said it too.”

“That could be a coincidence.”

“It was him.” She scooted back, like she needed room to fit her huge epiphany. “Mr. Forkle is an elf.”

Alden sank down beside her. “You’re sure?”

She wanted to say yes, but . . .

She grabbed the memory log and projected Mr. Forkle the way she remembered him. Wrinkled. Overweight. There had to be a mistake.

Alden gasped as he looked over her shoulder. “He
is
an elf.”

“But he’s old.”

“That’s exactly what someone looks like when they’ve eaten ruckleberries. See the way the skin looks stretched? The body swells
and
wrinkles as the berries digest.”

“He did smell like feet,” Sophie remembered. “That could’ve been from the berries.”

Alden swept his hair back and stared into space. “That explains why the kidnapper backed down. He could tell your neighbor was more powerful than him. I’m sure the Black Swan had their most skilled operative guarding you.” He shook his head. “I should’ve guessed they wouldn’t leave you alone. They’d want someone nearby in case anything went wrong.”

He was right. Mr. Forkle had always looked out for her. He’d called 911 when she hit her head. And he was always asking about her headaches. He must have known she was a Telepath. “But . . . why could I hear his thoughts? Shouldn’t his mind have been silent?”

“Another part of his disguise. A highly skilled Telepath can broadcast thoughts the way humans do. He gave you what you needed to hear to not suspect him. I bet that’s how they planted some of the memories in your brain. He certainly had enough access to you to broadcast subliminal messages when he needed to.”

Mr. Forkle? A Telepath?

She sucked in a breath. “He was there when I fell and hit my head—the accident that started my telepathy when I was five. Do you think he did something to me?”

“It’s possible. I’m not sure why they’d want to trigger an ability in you at that age. But he might have decided to take advantage of you being unconscious. Telepathy can be easier to activate that way—not that I’ve ever tried it. In fact, I wonder . . .”

“What?” she asked, when he didn’t finish.

“I wonder if he’s the reason you’ve developed more abilities. He might have triggered some after he rescued you. They were
exactly
the skills you needed to survive.”

She didn’t remember that much of what happened, but she did remember feeling five years old again. Was that because he’d done the same thing he’d done back then?

She shook her head. It was too much.

Her whole life she’d been controlled and manipulated—and they were still doing it.

“Why?” she asked, wishing she had something to throw. “Why put me with humans? Why all the secrets? What was the point
?
”

“I don’t know,” Alden whispered as he rose to pace. “I’d always assumed it was to hide you from us. But maybe there was more to it than that. Tell me this—why did you risk everything to bottle the Everblaze?”

She was surprised he had to ask. “People were dying.”

“
Humans
were dying,” he corrected. “And no one cared enough to stop it. Except you. I think you can hardly deny your upbringing played a big role in that decision. Maybe that’s what the Black Swan wanted all along. If you’re right—and they’re working against these other rebels, who seem to want to destroy the human race—then perhaps they thought it would be wise to have someone who cared about humans on their side.”

“I’m not on their side.”

“That doesn’t mean they don’t want you to be.” He paused to stare out the window. “The only ones who’ll know for sure are the Black Swan. It’s time we find them and ask them.”

He made it sound so simple, like he could just look up their address in the phone book. “They’ve been hiding from you for years. What makes you think you can find them now?”

He held up the memory log. “We’ll run these images through the registry database. Your neighbor might be hard to match, but we’ll check every Telepath until we find him and force him to lead us to the Black Swan. In the meantime, we’ll use the other picture to find the identity of the kidnapper. Once we catch him, we’ll be able to probe his mind to find the others.”

She curled her knees into her chest, shaking her head. “I told him I recognized him. I’m sure he’s in hiding now.”

“It’s not that easy to hide from us.”

“No offense, but it doesn’t seem like it’s that hard. The Black Swan hid me for twelve years—and you only found me when they led you to me. The kidnappers hid us somewhere in Paris and you had no idea. They have secret leaping crystals hidden among humans that no one knows about—except the other rebels. I think it’s easier to hide here than in human cities. At least they have security cameras and detectives and police.”

Alden sighed. “I see why you might feel that way, but you have to understand, Sophie. Humans have those measures in place because conspiracies and arson and kidnapping are common. Those are unheard of here. Or they used to be.”

He shook his head. “For thousands of years the Council reigned supreme. They were the wisest, most talented members of our society, working together for the greater good. No one questioned their authority. But the past few decades have changed everything.”

“Why?”

“Humans. They’ve developed weapons powerful enough to destroy the planet. So about sixty years ago a measure was brought before the Council to create a new Sanctuary specifically for humans, to relocate them for the good of the earth—and their own safety. It had a lot of support. Some very influential people have grown tired of hiding in the shadows while humans run amok throughout the globe. But the Council rejected it, refusing to imprison an intelligent species. For the record, I agree with their decision.”

Sophie nodded. Humans would be devastated if their lives were uprooted that way.

“The supporters of the initiative were angry with the Council. Some called for members to resign—especially Bronte, since he was the most outspoken against the idea—and there were threats to go ahead with the plan anyway. The Council didn’t take the threats seriously, but they forbade human contact of any kind and recruited Telepaths like myself to keep our minds open for suspicious activity. All talk of rebellion vanished, and the Council was satisfied. Crisis solved.”

He sighed. “I’d always suspected the rebels moved underground—though I
never
would have guessed there was more than one group. I’m afraid I’ve been almost as blind as the Council.” His shoulders sagged as he stared at the ground.

“Even when I found your DNA, none of the Councillors would believe you really existed, or that if you did, that it had anything to do with rebellion. That’s why things have been handled so poorly. But they can’t ignore it anymore.

“An elf tried to burn the Forbidden Cities to the ground with Everblaze. A team of alchemists had to spend days making
Frissyn
to put out fires all over the globe. Two children were kidnapped by an unregistered Pyrokinetic and held prisoner while we held funerals for them.” His voice cracked, and he paused for a second, clearing his throat. “The Council has been forced to admit the rebellion exists, and you can rest assured that this threat
will
be resolved. We have tremendous power at our disposal. We just haven’t been using it.”

Sophie reached for Ella, hugging her to her chest to hide her shaking.

She wanted to believe him, but it was hard. The rebels were smart, and very well organized. If they wanted to get to her, she had no doubt that they could.

But she had a bodyguard now. He would keep her safe—though she wasn’t in love with the idea of a giant gray goblin following her around all the time.

“I can tell you’re still worrying, Sophie, and I don’t blame you. But trust me on this. The rebellion will be stamped out very quickly now that the Council is willing to acknowledge it. Anyone involved will be brought to justice.”

“I hope so,” she whispered, trying not to think about the ghostly voiced elf who was out there somewhere, plotting revenge. “I’ll see if I can trigger any memories that might help.”

“No.” Alden sat beside her. “I don’t want you involved. You’ve been a big help, and you have incredible powers at your disposal, but you’re twelve years old.”

“Thirteen,” she corrected, realizing her birthday had passed a few months ago. Elves didn’t pay attention to birthdays—given their indefinite life spans—so she’d forgotten.

“Fine. Thirteen. That’s still too young to be wrapped up in a conspiracy. I want you to make me a new promise.” He waited until she met his eyes. “I want you to promise you will just be a normal, happy, thirteen-year-old girl. Go to school. Make friends. Get crushes on boys. Have fun. No more worrying about secret messages or plots or rebellions. Leave that to boring grown-ups like me.”

“But I’m
not
a normal thirteen-year-old girl. I have abilities no one understands—and secrets stored in my brain that people are willing to kill me for.”

“That may be true, but being special doesn’t mean you can’t have a normal life. You only get seven years to be a teenager. Enjoy them. Promise me you’ll try.”

A normal life.
It sounded too good to be true.

It
was
too good to be true.

After everything she’d been through, she’d accepted that she would never fully belong. It was time to stop pretending that she could.

“I’ll try,” she agreed, “only if you’ll promise me that if something big happens and you need me, you’ll come to me—even if I’m only thirteen.”