Lodestar by Shannon Messenger
Mr. Forkle nodded. “I’d suspected that might occur.”
Squall used her ability as a Froster to crust herself with ice and obscure her identity—and whoever she was in real life seemed to make it very difficult for her to sneak away from the Lost Cities for long.
“Blur should be here momentarily,” Granite added.
Almost on cue, a smudged-looking figure passed through the solid wood of the cottage’s front door. As a Phaser, Blur could break down his body and walk through anything—but he only let himself partially re-form, in order to hide what he looked like. All Sophie could see were splotches of color and shadow in a vaguely elflike shape as he turned back to open the door for two familiar figures.
“You know, you could use the door like a normal person,” Tam said as he stalked into the room.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Linh asked, trailing behind her brother.
She’d opened her mouth to say something else when she spotted Sophie and Fitz. Then there was a whole lot of hugging—while Tam settled for a nod-shrug-wave from the doorway.
The twins looked a lot alike—especially with their silver-blue eyes, and the silver tips they’d added to their jet-black hair. But personality-wise, they were night and day.
“I wish I’d known you’d be here,” Linh mumbled. “I was so happy to leave the house, I didn’t bother changing out of my training clothes.” She fussed with the sleeves of her simple blue tunic, which were wet along the edges. She must’ve been practicing hydrokinesis.
“You look beautiful,” Sophie promised.
Linh always did.
All elves were inherently gorgeous, but Linh was especially striking with her soft pink cheeks and lips contrasted against her dramatic eyes and hair. Tam was just as handsome, but with more edge to his style, thanks to his jagged bangs and ultra-intense stare.
“Why aren’t you letting Tam and Linh leave Alluveterre?” Sophie asked Mr. Forkle.
“The same reason we haven’t let you visit,” he told her. “Far too many people would love to find that hideout.”
Tam and Linh lived in the same tree houses that Sophie and her friends had stayed in while they were banished from the Lost Cities, hidden deep under the earth in a subterranean forest only the Black Swan knew how to access. They could’ve returned home when their banishment was lifted, but they chose to stay away from their family—not surprising, considering their parents let them spend more than three years scrounging for food and living in tattered tents instead of standing by Linh’s side as she adjusted to the strength of her ability.
“Does that mean you’re not going to Exillium anymore?” Fitz asked the twins.
“No, they let us out for that,” Tam told him, “but only with our dwarven stalkers.”
“Bodyguards,” Blur corrected. “And they’ll only surface if they hear trouble.”
“King Enki assigned four of his royal brigade to Tam and Linh’s charge,” Granite clarified as he made his way over to check on Prentice, who seemed completely unaware of the noise around him. “The goblins have been spread a bit thin, between the forces they’ve stationed outside Ravagog and the patrols in the Lost Cities. And honestly, it’s better for Tam and Linh to have a discreet form of cover at Exillium.”
“How’s it going there, by the way?” Sophie asked.
Linh smiled. “It keeps getting better—thanks to you.”
Sophie shrugged, not sure she should be given credit for the changes. All she’d done was tell Councillor Oralie what life was truly like at the neglected school. Oralie had arranged the improvements herself.
“I never thought I’d miss that place,” Fitz said. “But some of the skills they taught were pretty awesome.”
“We miss you guys even more,” Sophie added. “Dex and Biana are going to be so jealous that we got to see you.”
“Seriously,” Fitz said, “Biana was already super sulky that she couldn’t come with us this morning, so when I tell her we saw you guys she’s going to flip.”
“All four of them have been nagging me to let them visit you two for weeks,” Mr. Forkle added. “I’d wager they’ve broken Mr. Sencen’s record for Most Visits to the Principal’s Office to plead their case.”
The name drop might as well have dragged a giant woolly mammoth into the room.
Tam cleared his throat. “So . . . have you heard from him?”
“You could say that,” Fitz said, glancing at Sophie.
“I saw him yesterday.” She hoped Tam would leave it at that. But of course he didn’t.
“I’m guessing there was drama?”
“Mr. Sencen has chosen a very challenging path,” Mr. Forkle said carefully. “But we’re still hoping for the best. And I want you all to know that we are not trying to keep you separated from each other. But we have to protect Alluveterre. The Council is watching your pendant feeds very closely, and while they may not be actively working against our order, we also cannot truly count them on our side.”
“I’m sure Dex could cover us sneaking away for a few hours,” Sophie argued.
“Mr. Dizznee’s talents are especially creative,” Wraith agreed. “But the Council’s new measures are cleverer than you might expect. It took our Technopath most of last night to set up the false feed we’re using right now. And it’s only for a limited time.”
“Besides, we need Dex concentrating on other things,” Blur added.
“Like what?” Sophie asked, surprised that Dex hadn’t mentioned anything.
Mr. Forkle shot Blur a look that seemed to say, That was top secret information! before his voice filled her head.
We’ve given Mr. Dizznee access to all of the eldest Mr. Vacker’s registry records, hoping he’ll be able to determine why the Neverseen went to such lengths to destroy the files.
Is that why they broke in to the registry? Sophie asked.
In part. The investigators were unable to determine if any additional files were accessed. But all of Brant’s, Fintan’s, Ruy’s, and Mr. Vacker’s records were erased. It’s quite fortunate we’d made our own copies before the break-in. And I’m sure you can understand why we asked Mr. Dizznee to keep this project quiet.
“I know you’re talking about me,” Fitz said when Sophie’s eyes darted his way. “And you know I can eavesdrop on what you guys are saying, right?”
“But you won’t,” Granite told him. “Because you respect Sophie too much to violate the rules of telepathy.”
Tam snorted. “Telepaths are weird.”
“Said the guy who won’t trust anyone until he’s read their shadowvapor,” Linh teased.
Tam was a Shade, which meant he could manipulate shadows—including the inner darkness everyone hid in their minds. He claimed he could tell whether someone was trustworthy simply by sensing how much shadowvapor he felt when he took a reading—and it seemed to be true. Tam had doubted both Alvar and Keefe because they’d refused to submit to the test. Sophie was still waiting for the I told you so.
“Just tell me what’s going on,” Fitz said, and Sophie could hear the desperation hidden in his voice.
She sighed. “Dex is investigating your brother, trying to see if he can learn anything about the Neverseen. And they didn’t tell us because . . .”
She pointed to his hands, which were fisted so tightly, his thumb rings were cutting into his skin.
It took Fitz six painful seconds to relax his grip, and when he did, he turned to Mr. Forkle. “I want to know what he’s found.”
“Nothing at the moment—another reason we’ve waited to tell you. If you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to speak to Mr. Dizznee directly.”
“I will,” Fitz assured him—and Sophie made a mental note to be there in case the conversation turned into an epic disaster.
“Now, can we focus on the reason we’re all here?” Mr. Forkle asked. “Mr. Song—”
“I’ve told you I don’t want to be connected with my parents’ name,” Tam interrupted.
??
“He said something about having me lift another veil. And I’ve been hoping I misunderstood. You remember what happened last time.”
“I do,” Mr. Forkle said. “Prentice finally woke up.”
“Right—but after that,” Tam pressed. “I’m never going to forget those screams.”
“Why was Prentice screaming?” Sophie asked as Linh reached for her brother’s hand.
“It only lasted a few minutes,” Mr. Forkle assured her—which was hardly reassuring. “And I suspect it was from the influx of jagged memories released by the veil.”
“Anyone else confused?” Fitz asked.
“Very,” Sophie said. In all the times she’d been in people’s minds, she’d never felt any veils.
“Shadowvapor forms in layers,” Tam explained. “Only Shades can sense them. And I like to think of them as veils, since they usually feel thin and wispy—and they’re always covering the things we’re trying to hide. That’s why I can learn so much from reading someone’s shadowvapor. The more you have, the more secrets you have. But the veils of darkness in Prentice’s mind felt like they were made of solid metal. It took all my energy to lift one, and when I did, his consciousness surged back as it released the memories hidden underneath.”
“All the years of Exile and madness must’ve buried him in darkness,” Granite said quietly. “I just wish I understood what caused the final avalanche.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Mr. Forkle promised. “But today, we need to focus on peeling back another veil—which should be lighter now that we’ve lifted the layer that smothered him. The piece of memory I recovered was tethered to something else—something weighed down by darkness. Hopefully if we remove the veil, Miss Foster can find it.”
“But what if this makes Prentice worse?” Sophie whispered.
“Believe me, I’ve asked that question a thousand times,” Granite told her. “But last time, the process made him significantly better. So it stands to reason that lifting another veil might actually help him.”
Out of everyone in the room, Granite had the strongest connection to Prentice. He’d resigned from Foxfire after Prentice’s Memory break, and despised the Vacker family for years because of Alden’s involvement with what had happened. He’d also adopted Wylie and raised him as his own son.
So if Granite thought it was worth the risk, it had to be a good sign.
“Have you told Wylie we’re doing this?” Sophie asked.
Mr. Forkle nodded. “He gave us his blessing.”
“Then why isn’t he here?” Fitz asked.
“Knowing something is the right decision doesn’t make watching it any easier,” Granite reminded him. “But he trusts me to protect his father—and I will.”
“As will I,” Mr. Forkle said. “As I’m sure you will as well, Miss Foster. And you, Mr. Tam. We all have the same goal.”
Tam sighed. “What memory are we even trying to find?”
“The remaining portion of a symbol. I found one piece during my ill-advised search, and we’ve now found part of it etched onto a disk connected with the Neverseen—which, by the way, tested negative for any enzymes, in case you were worrying,” he told Sophie. “It’s made of a stone called duskitine, which is neither rare nor valuable. But it does react to starlight, which may be a clue to its purpose—though at the moment, I’m still at a loss for what it could be. Perhaps once we have the rest of the symbol all will become clearer.”
“Can I see the full piece of memory you already found?” Sophie asked.
He shuffled to her side and placed two fingers on each of her temples, sending a scrap of jagged darkness surging into Sophie’s mind. The chill made her shiver as the memory emerged from the shadows: white symbols glowing through the dark—three diagonal lines, each decorated with different patterns of dashes before they ended in open circles. The line in the center matched the disk from Keefe’s cloak.
“It’s possible we’re missing more than one piece,” Mr. Forkle warned.
“How will I know if I’ve found them all?”
“Send anything you find to me,” Fitz offered. “I’ll piece them together and let you know when you’re done. And if you need an energy boost, just squeeze my fingers.”
He offered her his hand, and after all their months of working together, relying on Fitz felt like putting on a pair of comfy running shoes.
“Are we ready?” Mr. Forkle asked.
Everyone turned to Tam.
He shook his bangs out of his eyes and let go of his sister. “I really hope we don’t regret this.”
“As do we all,” Granite whispered.
Tam’s shadow sprang to life, crawling slowly across the room until it fell across Prentice’s face and sank into his mind.
SEVEN
TAM HAD BEEN right about Prentice’s screams.
Sophie would never forget his eerie wails—the sound of someone caught between pure terror and overwhelming despair.
Each second was an eternity.
Each breath a knife in her throat.
And then, as quickly as it started, it was over.
Prentice’s mouth snapped shut and his head lolled to the side as Tam stumbled back, his shaky legs collapsing underneath him. Linh lunged to catch him, easing Tam’s trembling body to the cold floor as she gathered the moisture in the air into some sort of floating forehead compress.
“Wow,” Fitz breathed, the same way he always did when he saw Linh’s Hydrokinetic tricks.
Sophie was impressed too—especially with Linh’s control. Linh had come a long way since her days of being the Girl of Many Floods and causing so many catastrophes that she’d ended up banished.
“I’m fine,” Tam managed to mumble. “How’s Prentice?”
“Strong,” Mr. Forkle promised.
Sophie turned to check for herself, relieved to see how clear Prentice’s eyes looked. The cloudiness she’d noticed earlier had lifted, and his gaze was focused and steady. Even his thrashing had calmed, and his mumbles had dulled to whispers.
“What happened?” Linh asked her brother, shifting his water compress with him as he sat up. “You weren’t this affected last time.”
“Yeah, well, last time the veil wasn’t that heavy.” Tam turned to Mr. Forkle. “Your theory about the next layer being lighter was way off. It was like trying to lift a big, blubbery whale.”
“That’s quite the mental picture,” Mr. Forkle noted. “And that should give you extra pride for the strength and skill it took to lift it.”
“Yeah . . . about that.” Tam curled his arms around his knees. “It felt like he helped me.”
All four members of the Collective crouched around him.
“What does that mean?” Granite asked.
“It’s hard to explain,” Tam mumbled, reaching though Linh’s water compress to tug on his bangs. “But I was running out of strength, and I thought . . . maybe it’d help if Prentice knew I was on his side. So I used my shadow to send a message—which won’t mess with his consciousness at all, I swear,” he added quickly.
Tam had used the same trick when he was first getting to know Sophie. Exillium had strict rules about Waywards communicating with each other, so their first conversations had happened entirely in her head. Whenever his shadow crossed hers, it opened a channel between them, allowing him to whisper directly inside her mind.
“Anyway,” Tam continued, “I told him I was working with the Black Swan, and that I needed to move the darkness so that Sophie could search his memories. And as soon as I said her name, the resistance lessened and the veil started budging.”
Granite whispered something Sophie didn’t catch as he rushed back to the cot and grabbed both of Prentice’s hands. “Prentice—can you hear me?”
Everyone stopped breathing.
Waiting.
Wondering.
And . . . nothing.
“It’s for the best,” Mr. Forkle said
He fumbled in his cape pocket and pulled out a shimmering crystal hourglass.
“Do you always carry that around?” Sophie asked.
“A wise leader is always prepared. You’ll have ten minutes. I don’t think you should be in his mind any longer than that.”
The lump in her throat blocked Sophie’s voice. But she did her best to look confident as she approached Prentice’s bed. Fitz moved behind her, taking her hand to help steady her nerves.
“Squeeze my fingers if you need me,” he told her. “I’ll also randomly send a few bursts of energy just in case.”
Sophie nodded, taking one last look at each of the worried faces of her friends before she focused on the only one that mattered.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she promised Prentice.
Then she pressed her consciousness into his mind.
Down, down, down she sank—through darkness and shards of memory that battered against her mental barriers. Her stomach plummeted with the rush, even though she knew her body wasn’t actually moving.
The farther she fell, the more the blackness faded.
First to gray.
Then to white.
Then to something . . . else.
A color too bright for her mind to name.
It was all colors in one—blindingly perfect in its purity. And as her consciousness slowly adjusted, other images took shape.
Fractal patterns.
Flecks of rainbows.
Everything opalescent and swirly.
And standing amid all of that beauty was a figure.
A young woman in a pale purple gown, with long blond hair and a dazzling smile.
“Hello, Sophie,” Jolie whispered. “I knew you’d come back to see me.”
EIGHT
SOPHIE KNEW JOLIE wasn’t actually there—but that didn’t make the vision any less real.
Prentice had conjured up Grady and Edaline’s daughter in perfect vibrant detail, right down to the wispy, frilly gown in Jolie’s favorite color. He’d used the same projection once before, to guide Sophie out of his madness when she’d first tried reading his mind. But this time, instead of a meadow, they were nestled in a pocket of space among all the shimmer and sparkle.