Everblaze by Shannon Messenger
She was going to need all the help she could get.
TWENTY-EIGHT
TELL ME THIS,” TIERGAN SAID as he stood from his chair and started to pace the small telepathy room. “What will be your greatest asset during the healing—during any telepathic endeavor, actually?”
“My impenetrable mind?” Sophie guessed.
“That is a strength, Sophie, but not an asset,” Tiergan corrected. “And you’ve already seen how our strengths can fail us. An asset, on the other hand, is a tool, ready to be utilized the second we should call upon it—and there’s one asset in particular that you both must rely upon to the fullest extent of your abilities. Any other guesses what it might be?”
Sophie glanced at Fitz, but he seemed just as clueless as her.
“It’s trust,” Tiergan told them. “Trust is what gives us confidence to step outside the safety of our own headspace and enter the darkness of another. What fuels us, guides us, pushes us to keep going, even when all hope feels lost. And for the two of you, trust is what will bond you together, so that your minds can face the coming challenge as one. So tell me, Fitz,” he said, turning to face him, “do you trust Sophie?”
“Of course.”
“Are you certain—and I mean absolutely certain?” Tiergan pressed. “If memory serves me, the two of you have had a somewhat tumultuous relationship recently.”
Fitz lowered his head. “I know I was a total jerk for a few weeks. But I do trust you,” he told Sophie. “I hope you trust me.”
“Of course I do!” Sophie said—probably too quickly.
Tiergan studied them for a second, rubbing his chin. “Nope. I’m not convinced. I see friendship and familiarity. But what you need is absolute confidence in each other. Which is why I’ve prepared a special exercise.” He folded his hands as he waited for them to look at him. “The better we understand someone, the more we can trust them, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sophie and Fitz both nodded.
“I’m so glad you feel that way, because the success of the assignment will depend entirely upon how willing you are to open up and truly put faith in each other.”
Something about his tone felt almost ominous, and when Sophie swallowed she realized her mouth had gone dry.
“Sophie,” Tiergan said, forcing her to pay attention, “since Fitz can no longer transmit to you, I’m going to need you to open your mind to his for this exercise—and for now I want you both to keep your thoughts focused on something unimportant. Like socks, or napkins, or uvulas.”
“Uvulas?” Fitz and Sophie both asked at the same time.
Tiergan smiled. “And now you won’t be able to think of anything else.”
He was right—Sophie’s mind was filled with images of the hangy ball that dangled from the back of her throat, and when she opened her thoughts to Fitz’s, he was picturing the same thing.
She couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or gag.
“Okay, I’m in,” she said.
Like old times, huh? Fitz thought.
Pretty much, Sophie transmitted—deciding not to mention that his thoughts were way easier to listen to than the blaring transmissions he used to send.
“So now what?” Fitz asked Tiergan.
“Now comes the fun part—though you may consider it rather challenging. I want you both to privately tell each other three things about yourself that no one else knows—”
“Three?” Sophie interrupted.
“Would you like more?” Tiergan asked.
“No—three is good!” Fitz jumped in.
He sounded just as nervous as Sophie, which actually made her feel better.
“They can’t be things you’ve shared with anyone else,” Tiergan added, sealing their misery, “and they need to be important secrets. Not ‘I didn’t eat breakfast this morning’ or ‘I always fall asleep during elvin history.’ You need to push yourself beyond your comfort zone and really trust each other. Understand?”
They both nodded, and Sophie wished she hadn’t shared quite so many secrets with Biana as Tiergan sank into his chair. He turned one of the silver knobs on his armrest, dimming the lights, and the darkness made everything feel more intimate—which was probably the point. But it made Sophie’s palms so clammy they stuck to her cape.
“Pretend I’m not here,” Tiergan told them. “And try to forget about Sandor as well. This exercise will work best if you concentrate only on each other. And keep in mind that the more you share, the better you’ll be able to work together.”
An endless stretch of silence followed, before Sophie transmitted, So . . . how do you want to do this?
I guess we could take turns, Fitz thought back.
They both shifted in their chairs, neither seeming to want to go first.
We could play rock, paper, scissors, Sophie suggested, and the loser has to start.
I have no idea what that is.
Wow, really? Sophie explained the rules, and, even though Fitz didn’t seem to understand how paper could ever beat rock, they decided to play.
Naturally, Fitz chose paper.
And naturally, Sophie won with scissors.
Fitz slumped in his chair. Argh—this is so awkward. I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just . . . the only things I can come up with are going to make you think I’m such a dork.
That’s not possible. You’re pretty much the coolest guy I know.
Cooler than Keefe?
Well . . . maybe it’s a tie.
A slow smile curled his lips. I guess I can live with that. And I should probably stop stalling, huh?
Nah—take your time. In fact, feel free to stall for the rest of the session. Then I don’t have to take a turn either.
Think we could get away with that?
Somehow I doubt it.
Okay—let’s do this. He squared his shoulders as he told her, I . . . can’t sleep without this bright red stuffed dragon Elwin gave me.
A giggle slipped out of Sophie’s lips before she could stop it.
See? I knew you’d think I was a dork!
Uh, you already know I’m a huge fan of sleeping with stuffed animals. I just never realized you were.
Yeah. It’s a recent thing. Elwin brought it to me after everything that happened with my dad, and at first I wanted to tear its head off or something—I was pretty angry back then.
A wave of bitter memories flooded his mind and Sophie did her best to block them. She didn’t want to relive those moments any more than Fitz did.
Anyway, he thought, turning his head away and blinking a few times, I’d shoved the stupid dragon under my bed and forgotten about it for a few days. But then I had a really bad nightmare and I couldn’t stop shaking. And I remembered that day when I had to take you away from your family, how you were sobbing on the floor and nothing seemed to help until you told me to go get Ella. As soon as I gave her to you, you were suddenly okay. I mean, I could see you were still struggling. But you were better, too. So I grabbed the stupid fluffy dragon and held on tight, and for some reason I can’t sleep without it now—even though things are back to normal. Well . . . mostly normal.
His mind filled with the same fears Sophie felt when she thought about Alden—only about a thousand times worse.
Your dad’s going to be okay, she promised.
I know. But she could see there were still doubts in his mind.
Does the dragon have a name? she asked, trying to lighten the mood.
I was hoping you wouldn’t ask. He didn’t look at her as he added, Elwin named it . . . Mr. Snuggles.
Sophie covered her mouth to block her laugh, but it slipped out her nose in a snort.
Fitz snorted too, and they both burst into a fit of giggles.
“I take it things are going well?” Tiergan asked, opening one eye to study them. “Keep it up, you’ll see the value in this exercise by the end.”
Next time I’m at your house I want to meet Mr. Snuggles, Sophie transmitted to Fitz.
I figured you were going to say that. And fine—but only if Biana’s not around. She’d tell Keefe and then it’d be over.
I can’t believe they haven’t found Mr. Snuggles already.
I have him very well hidden. And I think that’s more than enough humiliation for me right now. Your turn.
Sophie’s stomach dropped with a thud.
She reached up to tug out an eyelash, trying to think of something that wasn’t too embarrassing.
Okay, she transmitted after at least another minute had passed. But this is a big secret. You seriously can’t tell anyone, okay?
Of course, Fitz promised. Just like I’m counting on you to keep Mr. Snuggles to yourself.
Sophie smiled. But two more eyelashes were flicked to the floor before she quietly transmitted, The Black Swan gave me a Spyball.
Wow. I’m super jealous. I’ve been begging my dad for one for years. You have it hidden, right?
Yeah. Though she wondered if Sandor knew about it.
Good, Fitz told her. Because you’re right, you could get yourself another tribunal. All Spyballs have to be registered and monitored to make sure they’re not being abused.
I know. I thought about turning it in. But . . . it’s the only way I can see my old family. Make sure the rebels aren’t doing anything to them to try to get to me.
Do you think they’d do that?
I have no idea. They seem to be willing to do anything.
An image of Silveny’s unconscious body filled her mind, and she had to remind herself that there were extra security measures at the Sanctuary now.
And you don’t think the Council will protect them? Fitz asked.
Sophie shifted, choosing her answer carefully. I think the Council underestimates the danger we’re in.
I do too, Fitz admitted. In fact, sometimes . . .
Sometimes what? Sophie asked when he didn’t finish. It can be your second secret, if that helps.
Fitz twisted his fingers, cracking each knuckle before he told her, Sometimes I wish my dad would resign as an Emissary. I know, it’s crazy, right?
Why is it crazy?
Because it’s, like, the most important position anyone can have—besides Councillor.
And one of the most dangerous, Sophie reminded him.
Fitz’s head snapped up, and she worried she’d transmitted the wrong thing. But he smiled. Sometimes I forget how nice it is to talk to you.
Sophie’s face burned, and it was the best kind of warm. Like the steam from a thick cup of hot chocolate wafting against her cheeks.
I mean it, Fitz thought. I think you might be the only person who really understands how messy our world is getting. Everyone else—even my dad—wants to pretend everything is about to go back to normal.
But you don’t think it will?
I think things are going to get way worse before they get better. Look how many close calls we’ve already had.
His mind replayed the different plantings he’d been to.
His dad’s.
Dex’s.
Hers.
It was bizarre to watch her own funeral from someone else’s eyes, and Sophie wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or run away or reach out and take Fitz’s hand. Especially when he told her, I stood there and watched your tree sprout out of the ground. Then you came back, but you were so faded it looked like you were going to disappear. And even though I wasn’t there for this—he traced his finger over the star-shaped scar on her hand—Keefe painted a pretty painful picture of how almost dead you looked. So I want you to know that I’m not going to sit at home anymore, worrying about what might be happening to you, or Keefe, or Biana, or my dad. I’m going to be right there with you guys, helping any way I can.
Maybe it was the absolute conviction of his words.
Or the warm touch of his hand.
Whatever it was, Sophie softly transmitted, Okay.
Fitz let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. Wow, you agreed to that way easier than I thought you would.
I know, Sophie told him. And I’m still tempted to take it back.
Uh-uh, no takesies backsies—especially after I told you about Mr. Snuggles. But I’ll make you a deal. You agree to let me help, and we’ll count it as one of your secrets. So that would mean we’d each only have one left.
Getting out of a secret sounded like a pretty good trade—especially since she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to stop Fitz from helping her anyway.
Deal, she told him, smiling as he nodded.
But her smile faded when he told her, I think you should have to go first this time.
The only other thing she could think to share was something she didn’t even want to admit to herself. But she didn’t have anything else.
Okay, here goes, she transmitted, shoving out the words before she could change her mind. I . . . don’t want to know who my biological parents are.
Wow—you’re not even a tiny bit curious?
About the people who gave me up to be some crazy experiment—knowing the kind of danger it would put me in?
Do you think they knew?
How could they not?
How could they? Remember, Sophie, before you came along, kidnappings didn’t happen.
Maybe. But don’t forget, the Black Swan hid me. They wouldn’t have done that if they weren’t worried about my safety.
Yeah, I guess that’s true. Fitz sighed, his fingers absently tracing the Vacker crest on his Foxfire cape—a pair of yellow, diamond-encrusted wings. But I think I’d still have to know who my parents are. I mean, what if I ran into them and I had no idea?
Sophie looked away.
You think you know who they are, don’t you? Fitz guessed.
I have a few theories—which I’m hoping are wrong.
She let the silence that followed make it clear she wasn’t going to share them.
Okay, so I guess that leaves me with one last secret, Fitz thought, letting her off the hook.
And you’d better make it a good one, Sophie added, trying to smile.
Well, I don’t know if this counts as good, but back when my dad used to send me places to look for you, I always took a souvenir from everywhere I went. It was just little things no one would notice—and half the time I didn’t even know what they were. But I wanted something to remember every Forbidden City and prove I’d been there.
Sophie could see from his memories that he’d taken a crunched soda can from the gutters of New York, a discarded gold coin from the steps outside Buckingham Palace, and a “Lost Dog” flyer from a park in San Francisco, plus all kinds of odds and ends from cities she didn’t recognize. She couldn’t believe how many places he’d searched for her.
What’d you take the day you met me? she asked.
Nothing. I was so shocked that I’d actually found you that I forgot. Especially since I botched it and scared you away, and then I had to take you to our world to prove I wasn’t crazy—which I totally got busted for that night, by the way.
Did you?
Oh yeah. Longest lecture my dad’s ever given me. But I knew you wouldn’t tell anyone—and you didn’t, did you?
Of course not.
See, I knew I could trust you. His brow puckered. Huh. I guess I’ve always trusted you—even from the first day.
I’ve always trusted you, too, Sophie told him. Well, once I knew you weren’t a serial killer or something.
They both laughed, and Sophie felt her heartbeat change.
But it wasn’t the usual silly flutter.
This time it beat slower, like her heart was settling into the easy comfort of knowing she was with someone who knew her better than anyone else.
Fitz was the first elf she’d met, and the only one who knew what she really gained—and lost—the day he found her.
“Whoa,” Fitz said, jumping to his feet.
“Is something wrong?” Sophie asked.
“I don’t know. Just don’t do anything for a second. I n
His eyes turned all intense, like he was trying to bore inside her brain. It reminded her of Lord Cassius, though maybe a little less creepy.
Fitz laughed. “Keefe’s dad does have the creepiest stare, doesn’t he?”
“He—” Sophie froze. “I didn’t say anything about Keefe’s dad.”
“I know.” Fitz’s voice was hushed, but the words still felt like a bomb going off inside Sophie’s head. She sucked in a breath, trying not to panic as she thought, Can you . . . hear me?
She was careful not to transmit the question, or let her expression give the thought away.
And still, Fitz nodded.
He could read her mind.
TWENTY-NINE
HOW—WHEN—WHY—” SOPHIE STARTED, not sure which question she wanted to ask first.
Or maybe she knew.
Can you still hear me?
“Yep!” Fitz said, bouncing on the balls his feet. “Though, wow, your thoughts are racing. I can’t make sense of any of them.”
Sophie covered her ears, like it could somehow shield her mind—which was when she realized she knew a better way to shield.
“No—don’t—” Fitz tried to tell her, but he was too late. “Ugh, you just blocked me.”
“Good.” She focused on the invisible wall she’d built around her mind, imagining it as thick and solid as possible.
“I thought you trusted me.”
“I do. I just . . .”
How could she explain that it was terrifying to have him poking around her brain—especially when he had no problem letting her do the same thing to him?
“I imagine it’s rather jarring, given Sophie’s upbringing,” Tiergan said quietly, reminding them they weren’t alone. “We must remember that Sophie didn’t grow up in a world of Telepaths, and even now that she’s with us, she’s gotten rather used to her mind being impenetrable. Can you blame her for panicking?”
“I guess not,” Fitz mumbled. But he still looked annoyed.
Tiergan turned to Sophie. “I’ll confess, I’d hoped you’d handle the connection a bit differently.”
“Wait—you knew Fitz would be able to read my mind? Why didn’t you warn me?”