Keeper of the Lost Cities, Page 8

“As far as your family and the rest of the humans are concerned . . . yes.”

  For a moment she was too stunned to speak—her mind filled with creepy images of gravestones reading HERE LIES SOPHIE FOSTER. But one image was even worse.

  She closed her eyes, desperate to block out the horrifying mental picture, but it only became more vivid: her parents, hovering over her grave with tearstained faces.

  “You can’t do that to my parents,” she whispered, blinking back tears of her own.

  “We have to. If you disappeared, they would never stop trying to find you. It would draw too much attention to everything.”

  “But don’t you know what this will do to them?”

  “I wish there were another way.”

  She refused to accept that. Elves could travel on a beam of light and read emotions and probe minds. There had to be a way her family wouldn’t suffer.

  A sickening idea struck her. “Could you make them forget me? Make it like I never existed?”

  Alden bit his lip. “It’s more complicated, but it can be done. But would that really be better? They’d be relocated. They’d lose their jobs, their house, all their friends—”

  “That’s better than thinking their daughter is dead.”

  Her words seemed to hit him, and he turned away, staring deep into the aquarium. “What about you?” he said after a stretch of silence. “These are people you love, Sophie. If we erase you, they won’t miss you, they won’t even know you exist. Wouldn’t that be too painful?”

  A single tear slipped down her cheek. “Yes. But only for me. For them . . .” She squared her shoulders and set her jaw. “It’s the best thing for them.”

  Seconds passed before Alden turned to her, obvious pain in his eyes. “If that’s what you want, we’ll do it that way.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, hardly believing what she was saying. It felt like her brain was shutting down, too overwhelmed to function.

  Had she really agreed to have her whole life erased?

  She sank back into the massive armchair. Tears streaked down her cheeks and she scrubbed them away. “Will I get to say goodbye?”

  Alden shook his head. “The Council specifically forbade me to take you back.”

  The room spun and a small sob slipped out. It never occurred to her when she left for school that it would be the last time she’d see her family—ever. It was too much. “Please. I need to say goodbye.”

  Alden studied her face for a long minute before he nodded. “I can’t take you without risking a tribunal, but I can give you twenty minutes before I alert the Council to the change of plans and let Fitz take you. You’ll have to change clothes before you go, and get out of there before anyone sees you or it would be very bad for him. Can you do that?”

  She nodded, wiping away more tears. “Thank you.”

  Alden rushed to the door and called Fitz. Sophie couldn’t focus as Alden explained what was happening. She was too busy trying to figure out what she would say to her parents.

  How was she going to tell her family goodbye?

  THIRTEEN

  WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” HER DAD SHOUTED AS Sophie set foot through the door. His round face—usually so soft—was bent and twisted into hard lines.

  Her mom rubbed her temples. “We almost called the police.”

  Sophie’s eyes burned with unshed tears. Her parents, her house, her whole life for the past twelve years—this was the last time she would see any of it. It was far, far too much for her brain to process, so she did the only thing she could do. She raced across the room, threw her arms around them, and hugged as hard as she could.

  “Did something happen, Sophie?” her dad asked after a minute. “Your school called and said you left early.” His mind flashed to unspoken horrors.

  Sophie cringed away from his thoughts. “Nothing bad happened. It’s just been a strange day.” She buried her face into her mom’s side. “I love you guys.”

  “We love you too,” her mom whispered, totally confused.

  “What’s going on, Soybean?” her dad asked.

  Sophie trembled at the nickname—proof that she really didn’t belong with her family.

  “She’s just trying to get out of trouble,” Amy said, bouncing into the room. She loved watching Sophie get busted.

  “Amy, how many times have I told you not to eavesdrop?” her mom asked.

  Amy shrugged. “How long is she grounded for?”

  “Three months,” her dad answered.

  Amy shot Sophie a triumphant look.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sophie said, still hugging her parents. “I’m sorry for worrying you guys. I won’t do it again, I promise.” For once she would be able to keep her word.

  “Well, maybe two months,” her mom decided, rubbing Sophie’s back.

  Amy pouted and Sophie couldn’t help smiling at her pettiness.

  She was stunned to realize at that moment that she was going to miss Amy. Her bratty, obnoxious, pain-in-the-butt little sister. Sure, they fought all the time, but fighting with her was . . . fun. Why had she never realized that before?

  She ran over and wrapped Amy up in a hug.

  Her parents gasped.

  “Ugh, what are you doing?” Amy asked, squirming in Sophie’s tight embrace.

  Sophie ignored her struggles. “I know we don’t always get along, Amy, but you’re my sister, and I love you.”

  Amy jerked away. “Why are you being weird?”

  “I’m not being weird. I just wanted to tell you I love you. I love all of you.” She turned to her parents, who were watching the strange scene play out between their daughters with their mouths open. “I couldn’t have asked for a better family.”

  “What happened to you?” Amy asked.

  “Nothing.” She turned away to blink back tears. “I’m going to my room now.”

  Her dad cleared his throat, coming to his senses. “You’re not off the hook yet, Soybean. We still need to talk about what happened today.”

  “We will,” she agreed, desperate to get out of there. Fitz was keeping watch outside, and she had to hurry. “Later.”

  SHE RACED TO HER ROOM and packed in a daze. She didn’t take much. Everything felt like it belonged to someone else—to another life.

  When she was done, she allowed herself one minute to rememorize every detail of her old room: the pale blue walls, the dusty stacks of books piled on every available surface, the blue and yellow quilt her mother made for her when she was a baby. Her room looked empty now. Maybe that was because she felt empty.

  Then she took a deep breath, turned off the light, and closed the door.

  She tripped over Marty’s furry body in the hall. “Sorry, boy,” she whispered, crouching next to him. She rubbed his soft fur, trying not to cry. He’d been her only friend—but she couldn’t take him with her. Her family would need him.

  “Amy will take care of you,” she promised as she stood up.

  His pink mouth opened, releasing one tiny, pathetic meow.

  “I’ll miss you too.”

  FITZ HAD GIVEN HER A disk of sleeping gas to release if she couldn’t sneak out. She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to use it—the idea of drugging her family made her physically ill—but they were waiting at the base of the stairs.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” her dad demanded, glaring at the backpack slung over her shoulder.

  Amy giggled. “Aren’t you in enough trouble already?”

  “Sophie Elizabeth Foster, you tell us what’s going on right now!” her mom yelled.

  Sophie stared at them, clutching the sleeping gas, too afraid to use it. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say. “I have to leave.”

  Her dad moved between her and the door. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “It’s not up to me.”r />
  “Sit down,” he demanded, pointing to the living room couch.

  Clearly, they weren’t going to let her go, and time was all but up. “Fine. I promise I’ll explain everything if you just sit down and listen to me.”

  She cringed at the lie, hating herself for saying it. But it worked. They moved to the couch and waited for her to start talking.

  She fingered the disk, ordering her hands to spin the top the way Fitz had shown her. But she couldn’t—she couldn’t let the last words she said to them be a lie.

  “Please, please know that I love you. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. I have to go now, but I will never forget you.”

  Tears blurred their faces as she held her breath and twisted the disk between her hands. Air rushed past her fingers as the gas released, and she dropped it and backed away.

  Somehow she managed to count to thirty to let the gas clear before she breathed. Then she crumpled to the floor, burying her face in her hands.

  “IT’S OKAY, SOPHIE. IT’S GOING to be okay.”

  It took her a second to recognize that the voice belonged to Fitz. He crouched on the floor, holding her against his shoulder. Some part of her brain knew she should be embarrassed about smearing tears and drool and snot all over his jacket, but she couldn’t make herself care.

  “I drugged my family,” she whispered.

  “You did the right thing.”

  “It doesn’t feel like the right thing.”

  He squeezed her tighter as another round of sobs overcame her. “Look, Sophie, I feel like a jerk for saying this, but we have to get out of here. The Washers could be here any second, and they can’t find us here.”

  “Washers?”

  “Telepaths trained to erase memories. I’m sure the Council has sent them by now.”

  She forced her arms to let go of him and wiped her tearstained face on her shirt. “Just give me a second.”

  “I’ll go get your bags. Are they upstairs?”

  She pointed to her worn purple backpack. “This is all I’m taking.”

  “That’s all?”

  “What am I supposed to take? What am I going to need it for?”

  “It’s now or never, Sophie. Don’t leave anything behind that you might regret later.”

  “No, there’s nothing—” She stopped as she realized there was. Something she’d decided to leave because she was too embarrassed to take it with her. Something she suddenly couldn’t bear to leave without.

  “Ella,” she whispered. Saying the name made her feel a tiny bit better. “I haven’t slept without her since I was five. I thought I should leave her behind, but—” She couldn’t finish.

  “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs, on my bed. She’s the bright blue elephant wearing a Hawaiian shirt.” She blushed, but he didn’t laugh. Somehow he seemed to understand.

  “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

  She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see her family’s limp bodies, and counted the seconds until Fitz returned. When he handed her the worn blue elephant, she was surprised at how much better she felt. Now she had something to hold on to. One thing she loved was coming with her.

  “I’m ready to go,” she said with sudden determination.

  Fitz helped her to her feet and led her to the door. A big part of her wanted to look back one last time, but she kept her eyes forward. Then, clutching Ella with one arm and Fitz with the other, she took the two hardest steps she’d ever taken—out of the past, and into the future.

  FOURTEEN

  ALDEN AND DELLA WAITED OUTSIDE, pacing in the glow from Everglen’s enormous gates. As soon as the doors swung open, Della wrapped Sophie in a tight hug, stroking her hair and whispering that everything would be okay. Sophie waited for the tears to come, but she’d cried herself out.

  “No one saw us,” Fitz assured Alden, handing over the black pathfinder.

  “Thank you, Fitz. My dear, you might want to let her breathe,” he told Della.

  Della released her from the stranglehold, and Sophie took a shaky breath.

  “Are you okay?” Alden asked, deep shadows haunting his face.

  “No,” she admitted.

  He nodded. “It gets easier from here.”

  “I hope so.” She hugged Ella. “What happens now?”

  “Della and I are going to personally oversee your family’s relocation. Fitz can help you get settled in here while we’re gone.”

  “Here? I’ll be living here?” Hope flared. Living with Alden and Della would be amazing.

  Della wrung her hands. “Oh, Sophie, we would love that—we even offered. But the Council wanted you placed with other guardians.”

  Guardians? The title sounded cold and formal.

  “I selected them personally,” Alden assured her. “They’re good friends of ours. You’re going to like them.”

  “Okay,” she agreed without much enthusiasm. It was hard to be excited about living with strangers, but she was too worn out to think about it.

  “We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Alden said. “Right now we have to get going. Fitz, Elwin’s waiting to see Sophie.”

  Fitz nodded.

  Della gave Sophie one more hug before she moved to Alden’s side. He held the blue-crystaled pathfinder to the light.

  “Where are you moving my family to?” Sophie had to ask.

  Alden sighed. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I can’t tell you that.”

  It took her a second to understand why. “You’re afraid I’ll try to see them.”

  “The temptation might be hard to resist.”

  A shiver raked through her as the reality settled into her bones. She would never see her family again. She was an orphan.

  “Why don’t you take Sophie inside, Fitz?” Alden suggested quietly. “Elwin’s waiting for her in the conservatory.”

  Fitz tried to lead her away, but Sophie turned back to face Alden. “My family always wanted a house with a big backyard, so they could get a dog.”

  “That can be arranged,” Alden promised.

  “We’ll take good care of them,” Della added. “They’ll have money, security, everything they could ever want, well, except . . .”

  She didn’t finish the thought.

  Any doubt Sophie might have had about choosing to be erased disappeared in that moment. Knowing she’d saved her family from feeling the throbbing ache she was suffering made it worth it. Her last gift to them, to thank them for everything they’d done for her. They didn’t ask to raise an elf as their daughter—and it certainly hadn’t been easy.

  Which made her wonder . . . why them?

  How had two average humans ended up raising an elf—without knowing it?

  More important, why?

  She met Alden’s eyes, her lips already forming the question, but stopped at the last second. She wasn’t ready to hear about the family who’d abandoned her. Whatever their story was, she doubted it was a good one, and she’d had pretty much all the bad news she could take for one night. So she let Fitz lead her, deciding not to watch as Alden and Della disappeared to wipe away all trace of her existence.

  “WHO’S ELWIN?” SOPHIE ASKED AS Fitz led her down another long, glittering hallway.

  “He’s a physician. He’s going to do a quick physical on you.”

  She froze as needles and other medical horrors flashed through her head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I hate doctors.” She knew she should put on a brave face in front of Fitz, but she couldn’t. She still had regular nightmares about her brief hospital stays.

  “You’ll be fine, I promise.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, laughing as she struggled to resist. He didn’t seem to notice the way her whole body trembled.

  “What are you do
ing?” Biana asked from behind them.

  “Nothing,” Fitz told her, dragging Sophie a few steps in the right direction.

  “Where were you? I asked Dad, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

  “That’s because it’s none of your business,” Fitz said.

  “Will you tell me later?”

  “Drop it, okay? I’m a little busy right now.”

  “I can see that,” Biana grumbled, glaring at their hands.

  Sophie tried to jerk free, not sure if she liked what Biana was implying.

  Fitz tightened his grip. “Don’t even think about it. I’m taking you to Elwin, and you’re going to see it’s no big deal.”

  She lost the will to resist under Biana’s glare, so she let him pull her to an arched, golden door at the end of the hall.

  Fitz stood behind her, blocking any possible escape. “I’ll take your stuff to your room. Why don’t you hang on to Ella?” he whispered. “Maybe she’ll help.”

  “Thanks,” she mumbled.

  She handed over her backpack but made no move to open the door.

  Fitz leaned toward her. “I tell you what. If anything bad happens in there, I’ll let you punch me in the stomach as hard as you can. Sound fair?”

  She nodded.

  She caught Biana glaring at them again as Fitz pulled the door open and nudged her inside, but she was far too terrified to care.

  THE GLASS WALLS OF THE conservatory bathed everything in soft moonlight, and enormous plants grew in glowing pots around the room. Some of the gigantic flowers looked like they could eat her, but Sophie barely noticed them. She kept her eyes glued to the man—the elf—leaning over her low, cushioned cot, ready to bolt the second he pulled out a syringe.

  “This goes a lot faster if you hold still,” Elwin said as he adjusted her pillow.

  She nodded and tried not to fidget, but between his wild dark hair and huge, iridescent spectacles, he reminded her way too much of a mad scientist.

  He lifted her right arm.

  “What are you doing?”

  He snapped his fingers and a ball of green light formed around her elbow. “See? Painless.”

  She stared at the glowing orb. “How did you do that?”