Exile by Shannon Messenger
Sophie screamed and felt her body collapse as the searing heat raged through her mind like an inferno. She thought about resisting, but she’d lost the will. What could she do? She was just a worthless, broken girl with no actual power. She should curl into a ball and give up.
“I knew you weren’t as strong as everyone thought!”
She gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going to let him win.
With the last of her strength she dragged her shaking body to her satchel, forcing her eyes to focus as she fumbled for the vial Grady had given her. She spilled a few drops as she tore out the cork, but she managed to choke down the rest of the creamy liquid.
Ice rushed through her veins and white clouds filled her head, lifting her up and away from everything. She couldn’t feel, couldn’t think, just lay there and soaked up the freedom of being so light, so calm, so completely unburdened.
She had no way to know how much time passed before the clouds melted like fog in the sunlight, but eventually her head cleared and she rolled to her side, noticing for the first time a figure leaning over her. His bright white teeth were all she could focus on as Bronte bent down and said, “I was right about you. And now everyone will know.”
“TOLD YA YOU SHOULD’VE NAMED this place the Foster Center,” Keefe announced as Elwin handed Sophie a bottle of Youth to drink.
Master Leto had insisted on helping Sophie down the tower stairs—even though she’d told him she felt fine after she’d taken the elixir. He kept mumbling that she was far worse than she realized, and when he brought her to Sandor, he demanded that Sandor rush her to the Healing Center. Not that Sandor needed an order to freak out and become overprotective about her safety.
At least it got her out of lunch detention—though she’d have to make it up the next day.
And it gave her something else to think about besides Bronte’s words, which were still swimming around in her head, making her queasy every time she tried to process them.
What was he going to tell the Council?
“I think I should start a pool to see who can guess how many times you’ll end up here this year,” Keefe said, leaning back in his bed. “I could make a fortune.”
“Hey, you’re a patient too,” Sophie reminded him, pointing to his cloth-wrapped hand.
Keefe shrugged. “It was easier than ditching.”
Elwin handed Sophie a small vial filled with a teal elixir. “The serum you took seems like it did its job, but I want to be extra cautious, given what happened yesterday. Inflicting takes a pretty heavy toll.”
He didn’t have to tell her. She’d never forget the pain—though the all-encompassing hopelessness that had swallowed her was worse.
“So what’d you do?” she asked Keefe, to stop herself from thinking about it.
Keefe smirked. “You’re not the only one who can be mysterious.”
“He shattered the bottle he was using to catch a tornado and cut his hand on the glass,” Elwin answered for him.
“Whoa—way to kill all the fun,” Keefe complained as he unwrapped his hand and flexed his fingers. “And it was more like a scratch.”
“A scratch that needed three coats of Wound Wipe to seal it.”
“And you get on me for being bad at elementalism,” Sophie teased.
“Hey, Miss I’ve-Almost-Exploded-the-School—I am awesome at elementalism, I just . . . couldn’t concentrate today.”
Elwin turned to look at him. “Everything okay?”
Keefe glanced at Sophie. “You tell me. I tried to stop by Everglen after dinner yesterday and the gnomes wouldn’t let me in. Said the family ‘wasn’t accepting visitors.’ And Fitz still won’t answer my hails.”
Sophie became very interested in the edges of her cape.
“Come on, Fitz is my best friend.” When she still didn’t say anything, he added a quiet, “Please.”
She studied him, noticing a tiny dent between his brows. It was the closest Keefe came to actually looking stressed.
Elwin must’ve noticed it too, because he said, “Maybe we should tell him. The news will be public in a few days anyway.”
“Are we really allowed to tell people?” Sophie half hoped they weren’t. She didn’t feel like reliving all the sadness again. Plus, what if Keefe blamed her just as much as Fitz did?
“Come on, Foster—how would you feel if your best friend had something major going on and no one would tell you what it was?”
“I know,” she mumbled. He was right. He deserved to know, no matter what. “But . . . it’s not good news.”
“That’s why I want to know.”
She sighed. Then she opened her mouth and tried to force the words out. But her voice had left her.
“Alden’s mind is broken,” Elwin said when she couldn’t.
Keefe blinked. “You mean like . . . he has a wound from when he cracked his skull, right?” He turned back to Sophie. “That’s what he means, right?”
Sophie shook her head, fighting back tears as Elwin explained what little he could about the Council’s mission and Alden’s guilt about Prentice. Every new word made Keefe turn paler.
“Are you okay?” Elwin asked, grabbing Keefe’s shoulder as he started to sway. He helped him lean down and put his head between his knees.
After a series of deep breaths Keefe sat back up, wiping sweat off his brow. “I just—I can’t—I mean, it’s Alden. He’s always been like . . .”
He didn’t finish, but Sophie knew what he meant.
Alden felt like a father to her, too.
Keefe sniffed and smudged away a tear. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just . . . I never thought”—his voice cracked and he cleared his throat—“And there’s nothing anyone can do?”
Elwin sat next to him on the edge of the bed. “Apparently not. All of the Telepaths who’ve checked him have said it can’t be undone.”
“Is that true?” Keefe asked Sophie.
It took her a second to remember to nod.
She might be clinging to a weak hope with both fists locked tight, but that was her secret.
Keefe’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything else as Elwin checked his hand and gave him a blue serum to drink. When the chimes announced the end of lunch, Sophie slipped away before he could ask her any more difficult questions. Or decide that it was her fault.
She tried to pay attention in multispeciesial studies—Lady Evera was even lecturing on goblins, and she wouldn’t have minded learning a few more Sandor facts. But her mind kept flashing back to Keefe, pale and doubled over as he tried to process the news.
If he’d taken it that hard, how much worse would it be when the whole school knew?
“Hey, earth to Foster,” Keefe said, grabbing her arm as she made her way to study hall. “Whoa, calm down, Gigantor,” he added as Sandor moved to shove him away. “I just need to talk to her for a second.”
“I’ll be watching closely,” Sandor warned him.
Sophie tried to stay calm as Keefe pulled her to the side, but she had a feeling he was about to freak out on her just as much as Fitz had. “What’s up?”
“I was going to ask you the same question. I know you too well, Foster—you obviously know something about Alden that you’re not telling me, something that’s helping you stay so calm about this.”
“I’m not—”
“I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. But whatever you’re planning, I want in. I want to fix Alden just as much as you do, and if we work together, it’ll happen twice as fast. Actually, three times, since clearly I count for double.”
“Keefe, there’s nothing anyone can do to fix a broken mind.”
“I’m not talking about anyone. I’m talking about you. And I know you’re up to something. I can feel it.” He grabbed her hand, sucking in a slow breath as the crease between his brows relaxed. “I can feel your hope. It’s not much—but it’s there. And there has to be a reason for it. Besides—you’re going to need my help. Who knows
He did make a valid point. But . . . trusting Keefe?
“Please, Sophie,” he whispered. “I need to do something or I’m going to go crazy.”
Sophie sighed, looking at all the prodigies around them, many of whom were clearly eavesdropping. “We can’t talk about it here.”
“Look at you, wanting to ditch study hall. Some people might say I’m rubbing off on you—which is an awesome compliment, by the way.”
“I didn’t mean now. But . . . come to Havenfield after school.”
She walked away before she could change her mind.
“It’s a date, Foster!” Keefe shouted, turning every head in the corridor and making her grit her teeth so hard her jaw hurt. “Looking forward to it.”
That made one of them.
FORTY-THREE
SO, THIS IS WHERE THE great Sophie Foster lives,” Keefe said as he plopped down on her bed and grabbed Ella from among the pillows. “Wow—you really sleep with this thing? I thought Fitz was kidding when he gave it to you when you were recovering.”
Sophie snatched Ella away and placed her on the desk chair, wondering why she’d thought it was a good idea to bring Keefe up to her room. The first time she’d had Dex up there had been embarrassing enough.
At least Iggy was happy. He curled up in Keefe’s lap, squeak-purring like crazy as Keefe tickled his belly.
“Only you would have a pet imp—and dye it hot pink.”
“Actually, the pink is Dex’s fault.”
“Ah yes, I forgot about Dex. He comes over a lot, doesn’t he?”
“We are best friends. And I’ve been thinking—”
“Oh good, at least one of us should.”
“I’m serious, Keefe. Before I tell you anything, I need you to agree to three conditions.”
“And those conditions would be?”
“Okay, number one: Anything I tell you can never be repeated, to anyone—ever. Not even Fitz.”
“Ooh, I get to solve all the Foster mysteries—awesome!”
She sighed. “Two, I’m the one who makes the decisions—and you don’t get to argue with them.”
“I don’t see how that’s fair.”
“I didn’t say it was fair. You either agree or you’re out.”
He grinned. “Fine, Foster’s the queen of the universe—agreed. What’s the last one?”
She stared at her hands, trying not to think about the fury she’d seen in Fitz’s eyes the day before. “That no matter what you learn . . . you won’t hate me.”
“Why would I hate you?”
“Just promise, okay?”
“Uh, that one’s a no-brainer. Still not so sure on the whole letting-you-boss-me-around thing. But the last one’s easy.”
She nodded, still not looking at him.
“So . . . that’s it, right? We have a deal?”
“Actually there’s one more thing,” Sandor announced, marching into the room. “Whatever you guys are planning, I’m in too.”
“That might not always—”
“I go where you go,” Sandor insisted, cutting Sophie off. “Or I head downstairs and tell Edaline everything I just heard—and more.”
Sophie glared at him, but she had no doubt he would make good on his threat.
“Okay, so Gigantor’s on the team,” Keefe decided.
“And let’s get one thing straight, Mr. Sencen,” Sandor said, leaning down in Keefe’s face. “I am here to keep Miss Foster safe, so you will do what I say or I will leave you behind. Is that clear?”
“Is he always this cuddly?”
Sophie couldn’t help smiling.
“All right, so I think everything’s settled,” Keefe announced. “Team Foster-Keefe—and our goblin mascot—is official. Where do we get started?”
That was a very good question.
“THIS ISN’T NEARLY AS EXCITING as I thought it would be,” Keefe complained as Sophie finished explaining her theory about removing Alden’s guilt and how she was trying to track down her own journal. “When do we get to, like, fly into the line of fire or sneak away to the Forbidden Cities?”
“Hopefully we won’t have to do any of that.” She scanned her notes on the Councillors. She’d narrowed it down to Emery or Kenric—either of whom she’d probably be okay with approaching. But the problem was figuring out how to ask them. She doubted she could just leap to Eternalia and knock on their doors. And she’d tried her Imparter and been told those names were “restricted.”
“Ugh, this is so boooooooooooooring,” Keefe whined as he got up to wander. He’d circled her room several times before he said, “You know, you have way less girlie stuff than other girls. Actually, you just have less stuff. I see maybe ten things in this whole room that say ‘Sophie lives here.’ What’s up with that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, surprised to realize he was right. “I guess I haven’t bought that much since I moved here. I’ve been a little busy with school and friends and—”
“Almost dying three times? Or is it four? I can’t keep count anymore.”
“Yeah. And that.”
“But still, I was expecting all kinds of cool human stuff.”
“I didn’t take much when I left.”
Maybe if she had, she’d have her journal—though she doubted it. She’d forgotten all about it.
“Do you ever think about them?” Keefe asked quietly.
“Who?”
“Your old family. It’s gotta be kinda weird knowing they’re still out there. . . .”
“It is,” she admitted. “But it’s better this way.”
“Of course it is. You belong with us. And you got some pretty cool guardians to live with. Be glad the Council didn’t stick you with my family—I’m sure my dad would’ve volunteered. He finds you ‘fascinating.’ ”
Sophie tried not to cringe. “Your dad seems . . . intense.”
“That’s putting it mildly. Do you know we have an entire room at our house dedicated to the Wonder That Is Him? He’s covered the walls in portraits and awards and has a life-size statue of himself in the center—carved out of Lumenite, so it glows. I used to have nightmares about it coming to life and trying to eat me. And when I started Foxfire he cleared out the room next to it, saying we’d fill it with all my honors. So far, all it has is a pile of detention slips.”
He laughed as he said it, but it sounded slightly bitter.
Sophie tried to imagine living with that kind of expectation. Even with her human family, she’d never been pressured to succeed. If anything, they were always trying to slow her down, let her enjoy being a kid. It used to drive her crazy, but maybe she didn’t realize how lucky she’d been.
“What about your mom?” she asked, realizing that in all the months she’d known Keefe, she’d never once heard him mention her.
“She’s a perfect match for my dad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Eh, it’s fine. Disappointing them is actually pretty fun. And they gave me my stunning good looks, so that makes up for it.” He ran his hands through his hair, disheveling it even more—which somehow made him look even better.
Sophie looked away before Keefe could realize she’d noticed.
Grady knocked as he peeked his head through the doorway. His brows shot up when he noticed Keefe. “Oh. I thought you were up here with Dex.”
“Nope. Keefe’s helping me with . . . something.”
“I’m teaching Sophie some tricks for using her photographic memory,” Keefe jumped in. “Figured it can’t be too early to help her get ready for midterms, given what happened last year.”
“Hey—I passed all of my midterms!”
“Barely.”
Grady smiled, but he didn’t look convinced by Keefe’s story. “Well, either way, I need you to come downstairs.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Not necessarily.” He sighed. “Bronte was a bit concerned after what happened during your session toda
Grady looked nervous, but Keefe cracked up. “Only Foster gets the Councillors to make house calls.”
FORTY-FOUR
GRADY PULLED SOPHIE ASIDE AS she and Keefe followed him and Sandor downstairs.
“You’re okay, right? The session—Bronte didn’t . . . ?”
“I’m fine,” she promised, wishing there hadn’t been a tremble in her voice as she said it. “The elixir fixed everything, and Sandor brought me to Elwin just in case.”
Grady’s hands curled into fists. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
Sophie stared at the floor. “Why is the Council concerned about what happened? Why does it matter if Bronte can inflict on me?”
“They’re just a little concerned that your mind . . . isn’t as strong as they thought it was.”
She swallowed as she processed that. “Why would that affect Silveny?”
Grady sighed. “If Bronte’s theory is right, it would affect everything—but it’s not right. And that’s what you’re going to show them right now.”
“What’s Bronte’s theory?”
“It’s not important.”
“Kinda sounds like it is,” Keefe jumped in, grinning as Grady spun to face him. “Forgot I was standing here, didn’t you?”
“No—I—what are you doing here, Keefe?”
“Foster invited me.” He reached out and brushed Grady’s arm. “Whoa—that is some serious tension radiating off of you. Is it that bad?”
“Is it?” Sophie asked as her pulse picked up speed.
“Empaths,” Grady grumbled as he turned back to Sophie. “There’s very little chance that Bronte’s right, Sophie.”
Very little chance.
That was way different than no chance.
“I need to know,” she whispered. “What is he saying about me?”
“It’s not worth repeating, Sophie—it’s just going to upset you.”
“Please. I have to know.”
When she didn’t back down, he shook his head. “Fine, if you really want me to tell you, I will—but I completely disagree with him.” He ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes as he said, “Bronte thinks that you’re . . . malfunctioning.”