Archive of Our Own ^beta

Fitz didn’t particularly want to go into the museum. He’d trained to block human thoughts and had quite a bit more experience than other Telepaths his age--not that there were many of those. But that didn’t mean it was pleasant to have to constantly guard his mind.

These trips had been so much easier before he’d manifested.

And yet he nearly coughed again on his next inhale and glared at the sweetly smokey sky. Inside had to be better than this. Hadn’t these people ever heard of trees?

The human fabric grated his skin with each step as he slipped in alongside a rowdy family, pretending he belonged in case the obscurer stopped working. Something about human money being too much of a hassle, not wanting him seen, like always.

He started wandering. His dad had said today’s girl would be here with her human school, and Fitz wanted to get this over with. Cross her off their list, just like all the others. Better sooner than later, because his elvin history mentor had assigned a five page paper he’d been planning to work on today--before his dad had called him into his office with another last minute “errand.”

Human thoughts pressed against the thickly woven walls he fortified in his mind as he moved, careful not to bump into anyone while invisible--he’d learned not to the hard way when he was younger. A few rambunctious kids made his job more difficult, but it was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.

This assignment was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.

Skip class, sneak away to the Forbidden Cities, find the girl, go home and tell his father she wasn’t the one.

Stepping off to the side, he pulled out the newspaper he’d tucked under his arm, scanning the front picture another time to help commit this girl to memory--at least for the next hour or so. Hair. Eyes. A nose.

His dad had made sure to get him a new one instead of sending him with the one Quinlin had delivered with the circled picture; if the obscurer failed, it’d be awfully suspicious to walk around looking for a random girl with her picture garroted in red.

Room by room, he scanned the faces he passed--he’d only open his mind to start searching if this didn’t work, a last ditch effort. He was pretty sure human schools traveled in packs, given the other few “field trips” he’d spied on over the years, not that fields were usually involved. The kids seemed to enjoy them, but as he finally located the girl--he double checked the image, and it was definitely her, no mix up today--the other human kids looked…annoyed.

But he wasn’t there for them, he was there for her.

Back to the wall, head down-turned, a faint crease marred her brow as she pressed her eyes closed; she had to be at least a head shorter than the next shortest person in her class, and she’d stuffed her hands into an oversized, atrociously plain “hoodie,” he’d heard it called. Blonde hair fell forward and obscured her face, her eyes, the midnight blue they must’ve been to be so dark in the black-and-white image.

And then her teacher scowled, rounding on her to yank something out of her ears and holding them up in a shaking fist. Her mouth dropped open, and her hair fell even further across her face as he started reprimanding her--for what? What were those little things?

“Miss Foster!” he started, and Fitz missed the rest as he checked the article to confirm that was the name printed there.

Sophie Foster.

Weird name.

When he looked back up, the teacher had dropped the things from her ears, and Sophie seemed in the middle of a valiant attempt to disappear into the floor.

“Since you’ve decided you’re above this lecture, why don’t you give it?” Her teacher pointed to a bright orange statue across the room. “Explain to the class how the Lambeosaurus differs from the other dinosaurs we’ve studied.”

That was supposed to be a dinosaur? He snorted, almost bumping someone who’d edged a little too close.

Sophie started to give her answer, but the teacher didn’t look pleased, even as she listed off facts he had no idea where she’d learned--they certainly weren’t correct, but they were probably correct by human standards.

Fitz glanced at the picture again, then back at this Sophie--her height, how far from the other kids she stood, her quick, detailed answers…

It wasn’t possible. There was no way. And yet, as she rattled on, he ducked around a nearby exhibit wall. Opened his mind only long enough to check nobody was looking. And turned the obscurer off.

He strolled back out where he’d just been, leaning against a display of strange plants and opening the newspaper to give himself a better excuse to stand around--human adults tended to be suspicious of unattended humans his age, he’d learned.

This was stupid--beyond stupid. He had that obscurer for a reason. But none of the other girls had looked so out of place. Over the edge of the paper, he watched Sophie’s class move on, stalking away while she sighed, as if she dreaded following. Odd…

He turned to watch her more directly, but as he did, she looked up--and stared straight back at him.

She started, her mouth falling slightly agape, and before he could think better of it--remember all the warnings his dad always gave him before each and every trip, he’d shrugged off the display and started walking towards her.

She didn’t move, her eyes wide--her brown eyes wide.

That…didn’t make sense. Wait, yes it did. He’d known how this would end when it’d started.

But confusion replaced disappointment--because brown eyes meant she was definitely the wrong girl, yet as he got closer, she had a sort of muted glow to her, some pull he couldn’t name.

“Is this you?” he asked, holding up the newspaper and pointing, though he was almost certain it was. But maybe she had an absent twin with blue eyes, and that’s who this article was really about. After all, he hadn’t heard anyone call her Sophie yet.

But he knew that was absurd.

She nodded, and he did too.

“I thought so,” and he turned the photo back around to squint at it. Same strong brows, same curve to her cupids bow, same upturn to her nose with the uneven bridge, same hint of a hint of a wave to her blonde hair. Same exhaustion under her confounding eyes. “I didn’t realize your eyes were brown.”

“Uh…yeah,” she said as he realized his slip. “Why?”

Play it off. Channel Keefe. “No reason,” he shrugged. That could not have been more lame.

Sophie didn’t seem to notice, and he lingered just a moment longer, wishing that her eyes weren’t brown and he didn’t have a history paper to rush. Maybe if he wished hard enough, the universe would somehow realign to make it work anyway.

But she wasn’t the girl, just like he’d known when he’d snuck through the doors--when his father had called for him, actually. Years of practice should’ve numbed him to the disappointment, but it still stung ever so slightly.

“Are you in this class?” Sophie blurted, and she flushed as she realized the answer to her own question. They’d never met before, after all.

He smiled to set her at ease, the same smile he used to charm his way past reception desks and ticket booths to keep them from paying too much attention to his strange accent and bright eyes when an obscurer wasn’t enough.

“No,” he said, then cast his gaze around for a reason to stay just another minute longer. The impact of the leaping crystal’s invention vs. starstones’ was the last thing he wanted to return to.

It landed on the display conveniently right next to them, another “dinosaur.” It didn’t even have any feathers! That was like, the most basic feature. He pointed. “Tell me something. Do you really think that’s what they looked like? It’s a little absurd, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sophie said, and he rolled his eyes at himself. Of course she wouldn’t. Humans didn’t know the truth, and they had no way to find it out; she was no different, and it was cruel of him to use her as his own personal distraction. “Why? What do you think they looked like?”

Looked. Past tense.

He shook his head and laughed. “Never mind. I’ll let you get back to your class. It was nice to meet you, Sophie.”

Another girl off the list, like all the others. He turned to leave, mind wandering as he started to restructure his day around this interruption, preparing both his essay and his report--which would not include his intentionally turning off the obscurer.

His carelessness cost him.

A verifiable hoard of human kids barrelled through the doors, all of their thoughts slamming against his neglected mental barricade and smashing it to pieces..

Blaring and piercing, they sliced and jabbed into his mind again and again and again, freezing him in place as his hands shot to his temples heedless of what anyone thought or saw.

He just had to stop the pain.

Hasty layer by insulating layer, he rebuilt his protections until he could open his bleary eyes, ready to explain this away somehow to Sophie--not channeling Keefe this time--when they locked eyes.

The shadows in her eyes had darkened, lips haggardly thin and pinched face drained of color as she rubbed at her temples.

Just as he’d been doing.

No way…

“Did you just…hear that?” His voice came out raw, quiet.

She paled further, wide brown eyes searching his face--he didn’t know what she found, but it had her gasping and stepping back, unsteady on her feet.

“Who are you?” she whispered, shoulders rising and falling beneath that shapeless hoodie.

“You did--didn’t you?” His heart began pounding his ribs. She’s the girl? “Are you a Telepath?”

He had to ask, astonished disbelief overriding all discretion, and it was only after he did that he realized she probably didn’t know the word.

But she flinched, her shoulders hunching as her frantic eyes scanned around like she didn’t want anyone to overhear.

“You are! I can’t believe it!”

Finally! She actually exists!

And she was terrified out of her mind because she had no idea who or what he was.

She’d started backing away, and he threw up his arms to try and placate her. There was no plan for this--he wasn’t even supposed to talk to her! Now he had to convince her not to be afraid and run away from him, otherwise his dad’s job--and his, by extension--would get a whole lot harder.

“It’s okay.” He took a step forward. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m one, too.”

She froze.

See? I’m nice and trustworthy. We can talk this out--that’s what Dad would do, right?

“My name’s Fitz,” he tried, and her face screwed up like she didn’t believe him. Seriously, what had his parents been thinking with Fitzroy? He’d never forgive them if this blew it for him. “I’m not joking.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

Sophie jerked away, darting and weaving for the door in such a way it was a wonder she didn’t trip over her own feet, and he cursed as he took off after her, catching sight as she nearly caught her foot on the last step of the front doors.

“Sophie, come back!” he shouted, heedless of the humans turning their heads to look as he channeled a small boost of strength to his legs.

Sophie did not come back.

Past a fountain and over the patchy grass, he chased and wondered how on earth he was going to salvage this conversation.

“Wait. You don’t have to be afraid,” he called as he made it to the sidewalk after her, but he might as well have said nothing for all the good it did.

Her head jerked on a pivot, looking back at him with terrified eyes, darting off the path onto striped white markings. He hadn’t been paying attention to the roads or the humans in the cars, all eyes on Sophie, but a horrendous blaring and shrieking had him freezing in place.

One of them was heading straight for her.

Sophie froze too, every muscle tense and mouth wide open as the human jerked, the car swerving into a nearby light to avoid her.

The pole crunched, and he was too far to reach her as it started to drop--straight towards her.

Move, Sophie!

She didn’t listen.

Her face went blank as he sprinted.

Her hands shot up and her mouth pressed tight as the very tips of her fingers curled.

The light stopped.

How? Even he couldn’t lift that much telekinetically, though he admittedly only practiced in P.E. But as impossible as it was, she wouldn’t be able to hold it forever. Not to mention they were in the middle of the Forbidden Cities.

He slowed next to her, swallowing. “Put it down.”

As if he’d broken a trance, she yelped, turning to him, dropping her hold entirely--which was not what he’d said to do--and returning it to its lethal path.

“Watch out!” He tackled her to the side as metal met asphalt and crashed so hard his ears started ringing, adrenaline surging as he tried to make sense of the impossibility of it all.

She was the girl even though she had brown eyes, and she was a Telepath, and she’d just lifted something that had to be more than ten times her weight like it was easy.

Who was she?

Sophie had landed on his chest after their tumble, and now stared into his eyes, near hyperventilating as her fingers clutched at him and her mouth worked to no avail.

“How did you do that?” he whispered. Why was Dad looking for you?

She sat up, dazed. “I have no idea.”

Sophie’s hands shook so badly he doubted she could think of anything right now. He’d have to do the thinking for the both of them.

He, regretfully, let down the outer layer of his mental guard; they were almost clear--except for that one pesky human in the car.

Fitz followed the sound of the wild thoughts, and pointed as he told Sophie, “We need to get out of here.” I need to get you out of here.

Realization hit Sophie like an ogre and she stiffened. “He saw.”

Horror tightened her limbs, but he pulled her to her feet, running through possible next steps. What would Alvar have done if he’d found her? “Come on, let’s get out of sight.”

Any and all of his plans needed privacy. Escaping the scene of the incident was just a bonus.

He started leading her away, but his only goal was “not there.” When they reached an intersection, he thought about guessing, but instead asked, “Which way?”

She pointed, and he followed her lead. Glancing behind them, he sent his thoughts back--the human was trying to follow, thinking about miracles and aliens and wonder children.

Sophie’s hand still in his, he pulled them into a run, and she didn’t resist. They didn’t stop until they reached another place with a bunch of cars and people, which wasn’t exactly helpful, but at least they’d lost the one from the crash.

Sophie slowed, forcing him to slow, too. He scanned for an area secluded from humans. He couldn’t talk to her in the open like this.

“What do you want?” she got out between heavy breaths, and he realized how this must’ve looked. Strange guy shows up, asks a bunch of questions about her, then chases her through the streets? That was a horrible first impression to make--but in his defense, she was the one who’d run away. He hadn’t wanted to chase her.

“I’m here to help you, I promise.”

“Why were you looking for me?”

He started to answer, but his father’s face filled his mind. Remember, Fitz, this is confidential. Including from the Council.

Which was a polite way of saying it was illegal.

“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you.”

She made a face. “How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t answer my questions?”

Unfortunately for him, she made an excellent point. Surely it was more important to get her to trust him than to maintain secrecy--who would she even tell, anyway? She was in the Forbidden Cities!

Which meant, if he switched languages, no one would be any the wiser if they heard anything. He started explaining in Enlightened, “Okay, fine--but I don’t know much. My father sent me to find you. We’ve been looking for a specific girl your age, and I was supposed to observe and report back to him, like always. I wasn’t supposed to talk to you. I just couldn’t figure you out. You don’t make sense.” He frowned, thinking.

What has dad gotten wrapped up in this time…

“What does that mean?”

She’d responded in Enlightened. Her insistent frown left him no time to marvel over this further proof. He searched for a way to explain.” It means you’re…different from what I expected.” Understatement of the millennia. “Your eyes really threw me off.”

Sophie raised her hand to her eyes, touching the lids and and hunching her shoulders in that way that made her hair fall in front of her face. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

He was in too deep now, and she was the girl. “We all have blue eyes. So when I saw them, I figured we had the wrong girl again. But we didn’t. You’re really one of us.”

He looked her over again--this small, exhausted, stubborn girl who, despite everything, wasn’t human. She was an elf. The elf he’d spent almost a decade traipsing around the world for.

Sophie stopped short, holding up her hands and wrinkling her nose. “Whoa. Hang on. What do you mean, ‘one of us?’”

Fitz had his work cut out for him here--why couldn’t his dad have given him an In Case You Accidentally Botch Everything The One Time It Counts lecture instead of all the Remember This Is Dangerous And Illegal But We’re Doing It Anyway ones?

But as much as he begrudged his dad for them, they’d done their job; now that he actually had the girl--Sophie--in front of him, and they were talking without her running away, he was acutely aware they were two elves talking in Enlightened in the middle of a crowded human area.

He glanced over his shoulder, and frowned at a human family in earshot--they couldn’t understand anything, of course, but they might be able to tell it was a language they’d never heard before.

Grabbing Sophie’s wrist, he pulled them away from the crowd--seriously, why here?

“Okay--there’s no easy way to explain this, so I’m just going to say it. We’re not human, Sophie.”

He watched her, shifting his weight, and her face blanked. Then she started laughing at him. “Not human. Riiiiiight.” Sophie turned on her heel, shaking her head as she stalked away.

“Where are you going?” This will make so much more work for Dad.

“You’re insane--and I’m insane for trusting you.” Her shoes scuffed the ground as she stormed off, and the worst part was he couldn’t even blame her.

He pled after her. “I’m telling the truth. Just think for a minute, Sophie.”

You’re an elf. You’re smart. You can put the pieces together.

Despite everything, she spun, looking him over as though searching for any reason to trust him.

An idea sparked, and he didn’t give himself time to doubt it. “Can humans do this?”

He furrowed his brow and shut out the world to concentrate on the energy his mind naturally stored, letting it spread in a coating over his body.

He blinked. Not how humans thought of blinking, but allowing his body to disappear for a moment.

Only vanishers could hold it any longer, but it was enough.

When he opened his eyes again, Sophie’d started leaning heavily on a car behind her, and for a moment he thought she’d pass out. He really hoped she wouldn’t. This was already enough work as it was.

“But I can’t do that,” she protested, and he felt a smile quirk his lips.

“You have no idea what you can do when you set your mind to it.” He had her, he knew it. “Think of what you did with that pole a few minutes ago.”

Sophie’s breaths came shallow, and her face had drained of color; it took her a long while to reorient herself, and then she said, “So…what? You’re saying I’m…an alien?”

A what?

He couldn’t help the laugh that burst out--wow, she had a lot to learn. Sophie’s cheeks flushed bright again, and he took a deep breath, pressing against his eyes to calm down.

“No,” he finally answered. “I’m saying you're an elf.” Duh.

“An elf,” she tried out the words, lip curling like they felt wrong. And then it was her turn to laugh, a high pitched trill like it’d escaped against her will. She pressed a hand over her mouth, shaking her head slightly.

Of course it could never be that simple. “You don’t believe me.”

“Did you really expect me to?” she countered, and once again, she unfortunately had him.

He imagined if some stranger showed up and chased him, claiming to be a fairytale creature and that he wasn’t an elf. He wouldn’t just laugh at them, he’d never listen to a thing they said ever again and tell Keefe, and then they’d both make fun of they couldn’t breathe.

“I guess not,” he admitted, hand running through his hair. He was lucky Sophie was even still talking to him. But he was right. How could he convince her? He was running out of options. “I’m telling you the truth, Sophie. I don’t know what else to say.”

What else could he show her?

“Okay, fine. I’m an elf,” she agreed, and his heart soared. Then crashed as she continued, “Am I supposed to help Frodo destroy the ring and save Middle-earth? Or do I have to make toys in the North Pole?”

Human stories, no doubt. Ridiculous. Everyone knew there wasn’t anything but Exile in the middle of the earth.

But if she’d heard human stories…there might be one he could use to his advantage. “Would it help if I showed you?”

She scoffed. “Oh, sure--this ought to be good.”

He ignored her tone and the voice in his head reminding him this was so against the rules his father hadn’t even lectured him about it. He pulled out his pathfinder and decided Eternalia was the best choice--there’d be little risk of being seen by anyone in their suspicious, incredibly uncomfortable attire. After Sophie’s little sprint and their dash away from the scene of the crime, it’d started to cling, too.

“Is that your magic wand?” Sophie asked, smirking, and he rolled his eyes. She sounded like Keefe.

“Actually,” he corrected, ”it’s a pathfinder.” He found the facet alignment for Eternalia by touch. “Now, this can be dangerous. Do you promise you’ll do exactly what I tell you to do?”

Sophie’s smirk fell and she shifted on her feet, eyeing the pathfinder. “That depends. What do I have to do?”

The words came from his childhood, and he couldn’t help feeling like his dad as he told her, “You need to take my hand and concentrate on holding on. And by concentrate, I mean you can’t think about anything else--no matter what happens. Can you do that?” He left off the final part--if you can, there’s no reason to worry.

He didn’t need to become his father at fourteen.

“Why?” Sophie asked, because nothing could ever be simple.

“Do you want proof or not?” If I try to explain light-leaping to you before you’ve experienced it, you’re going to call me insane again and I’ll have to start all over.

Face screwed up, Sophie relented after what looked like a rigorous internal debate, and slipped her hot hand into his, gripping tight.

He tightened his in reflex, a lifetime of holding his parents’ hands as a kid suddenly reversed. He scanned nearby with both his eyes and mind. “Okay, we’re alone. We go on three. You ready?”

Sophie, of course, had more questions. Because why should he ever get a break? “What happens on three?”

He glared at her instead of responding, and she made a face back, just like Biana would’ve.

“One,” he started. “Two,” he wrapped his concentration around them both, wrapping Sophie extra tight since she couldn’t pull her own weight. “Three.”

He drew them into the light.

They glittered onto the bank of the river, the councillors’ castles standing tall and proud in the distance, scattering the sunlight with their crystal cuts. And the air was clear.

Sophie let out a squeak, every muscle in her body tensing--including the ones in her hand holding his. He waited for a moment, but she seemed to have lost all sense of herself as she stared.

“You can let go of my hand now.”

She scrambled away with a start, turning with her mouth dropped wide open. Her well-worn human clothes seemed so out of place, but she, herself, looked…right. That dull glow had brightened ever so slightly, the colors of her falling into place.

He still couldn’t quite believe she was real.

“Where are we?” she breathed, awe in every word, and he couldn’t help the tinge of smugness that bloomed in his chest.

“Our capital. We call it Eternalia, but you might have heard it called Shangri-la before.”

“Shangri-la--Shangri-la is real?” The skepticism had dropped from her voice, and now it sounded more like asking for confirmation.

Yes! It was working!

“All of the Lost Cities are real--but not how you’d picture them, I’m sure. Human stories rarely get anything right--think of all the ridiculous things you’ve heard about elves.” And those dinosaurs.

Sophie barked a laugh, and he nearly stepped back. She just kept turning, kept looking.

It got to the point he started looking, too, trying to imagine what it would be like to see this for the first time--especially after a lifetime of boring human architecture. Bright colors, blooming greenery, light everywhere, and everything so sprawling you couldn’t even pick out the people. Wait, that wasn’t right.

He looked closer and realized it wasn’t just the distance--the streets really were empty. He’d just spotted the banner when Sophie asked what he’d been thinking only a moment before.

“Where is everyone?”

He pointed to Tribunal Hall. “See the blue banner flying? That means a tribunal is in progress. Everyone’s watching the proceedings.” It turns out even if his dad hadn’t sent him on this trip, he wouldn’t have had time for his essay anyway; he’d have been dragged off to watch stupid tedious legal affairs. He preferred this.

“A tribunal?” Sophie drew him back.

“When the Council--basically our royalty--holds a hearing to decide if someone’s broken a law. They’re kind of a big deal when they happen.” And a huge waste of time.

“Why?” Sophie looked perplexed, and he reminded himself she knew nothing about anything.

“Laws are rarely broken.”

Based on her track record, he expected more questions to follow, but she went quiet. Were they getting somewhere?

“So,” she started, and he realized she’d just been thinking of more questions, and hadn’t actually run out, “this is…magic?”

Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t that. He couldn’t help it; the laughter bubbled from deep in his chest, and he had to brace his hands on his knees as he doubled over, struggling to breathe.

Magic.

If Keefe could hear that…

When he finally righted himself, Sophie’d gone bright red again, and glared with a ferocity that rivaled Biana’s the rare times he beat her at Bramble. “No, magic is a stupid idea humans came up with to try to explain things they couldn’t understand.”

“Okay, then how can we be here, when five minutes ago we were in San Diego.”

He lifted the pathfinder so it caught the light, gesturing to the beam on the ground, careful to keep it from reflecting on her. She didn’t have him to hold her together.

“Light leaping. We hitched a ride on a beam of light that was headed straight here.” It was a genius system in its simplicity, and truly a shame humans couldn’t do it. It might’ve made their cities less stinky.

Sophie, to his surprise, though he really shouldn’t have been at this point, scoffed. “That’s impossible.” “Is it?” We just did it, so…

Sophie looked at him like she couldn’t believe he could be so stupid. “Yeah. You need infinite energy for light travel. Haven’t you heard of the theory of relativity?”

He snorted. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Who came up with that?”

“Uh, Albert Einstein,” she said like it was obvious.

“Huh.” Weird name. “Never heard of him. But he was wrong.”

Sophie stood speechless, as if he was the one spouting nonsense about “infinite energy” and “relative theories.”

So he grabbed her hand again. “Concentrate harder this time.”

Finally, finally, she didn’t ask any questions and did as he asked, and he used his one free hand to readjust the crystals--albeit with more fumbling, but luckily Sophie’d closed her eyes and couldn’t see that.

Then, he drew them into the light for the second time.

When they rematerialized in front of Lumenaria, he pointed. “How do you think we got here?”

He had her. He knew it, and so did she--her brow had furrowed deeper than he’d seen yet, her mouth opening and closing as small sounds tried and failed to make themselves intelligible.

“You look confused.” She looked like she didn’t know what to do with herself, but he was trying to be polite. Mostly. She made it hard sometimes.

“Well, it’s like you’re saying, ‘Hey, Sophie, take everything you’ve ever learned about anything and throw it away.’”

That was…an excellent summary. He knew she could get there!

“Actually, that is what I’m saying.” He smiled, thinking of her ridiculous comments--and those he’d heard at the museum. “Humans do the best they can--but their minds can’t begin to comprehend the complexities of reality.” It was amazing they were even part of the treaties in the first place.

“And what, elves’ minds are better?”

He blinked. Apparently there was still some ‘there’ for her to get to--and, he realized, there’d be a whole lot more once he talked to his dad and figured out…what on earth they were supposed to do now. “Of course. Why do you think you’re so far ahead of your class? The slowest elf can still trump a human--even one with no proper education.”

He didn’t think much of the words; every elf had heard them a hundred times over in their history lectures--a hundred times, because most people slept through the class and the Mentors had to pound everything into their heads to get them to remember it.

But, he realized, as Sophie’s breathing quickened again and her eyes unfocused, she wasn’t every elf.

“Hey,” he nudged her. “It’s not your fault. You believed what they taught you--I’m sure I’d have done the same thing. But it’s time you knew the truth. This is how the world really works. It’s not magic. It’s just how it is.”

He was going to continue, tell her she’d get used to it with time, and he’d help as much as he could. But Lumenaria’s bells tolled, and all he could think was how much trouble he’d be in if they got caught.

Yanking them behind the nearest rock, he hoped the guards were too distracted to notice the grubby human scent on their clothes.

“Goblins,” he explained, voice barely audible. “Probably the most dangerous creatures you’ll ever meet, which is why it’s a good thing they signed the treaty.” The only thing worse was ogres, but he didn’t want to scare her, and she’d never meet one, anyway.

Sophie and her voice shook as she whispered, “Then why are we hiding?”

“We’re dressed like humans,” he explained, hating the clothes once again for an entirely new reason. “Humans are forbidden in the Lost Cities--especially here, in Lumenaria. Lumenaria is where all the other worlds come together. Gnomes, dwarves, ogres, goblins, trolls.”

“Why are humans forbidden?”

She whispered like him, but from her wild eyes, her heart had to be pounding, and goblins were good. Especially those assigned to the Council. He drew them further away from the strolling figures.

He might’ve spent a little too much time bemoaning his history sessions considering just how much of it he was using right now. “They betrayed us. The Ancient Councillors offered them the same treaty they made with all the intelligent creatures, and they agreed. Then they decided they wanted to rule the world--like it even works that way--and started planning a war. The Ancients didn’t want violence, so they disappeared, forbid any contact with humans, and left them to their own devices. You can see how well that’s working out for them.”

Was it the most perfect explanation? No. But they were hiding from goblins in human clothes, and Sophie’s emotions were already on quite the adventure.

He continued when she stayed quiet. “The stories told by the humans who’d known us must’ve sounded impossible after we disappeared, and eventually they evolved into the crazy myths you’ve heard. But this is the truth, Sophie. This is who you are. This is where you belong.”

Sophie looked at him, and he couldn’t help the way his breath caught as she asked, “I’m really an elf?”

“Yes.” You’re the girl. You’re really the girl.

Sophie Foster.

And then she said the four most beautiful words he’d ever heard. “Okay, I believe you.”

He’d done it. He’d completely botched it, but he’d saved it. He’d found the girl, and he’d convinced her to trust him. She believed he was telling the truth--which was the obvious conclusion, since he was, but it had looked iffy for a moment.

And…now what?

I need to talk to Dad. Which meant he needed to get Sophie back.

“Ready to go home?”

Sophie said nothing, and he spun his dad’s pathfinder to the coordinates he’d learned that morning and pulled them through.

Relief that they were no longer in danger of being caught in human clothes evaporated at the first breath he took, which sputtered back out full of smoke and ash. “You’d think humans could handle putting out a few fires before the smoke pollutes the whole planet.”

He squinted up at the sky, frowning at the billowing clouds and haze--seriously, didn’t humans care at all about the world?

“They’re working on it,” Sophie rebutted, crossing her arms. “Plus, these aren’t normal fires. The arsonist used some sort of chemical when he started them, so they’re burning white hot, and the smoke smells sweet.”

He let her argument slide; she couldn’t help it. “Arsonists,” he said instead. “Why would anyone want to watch the world burn?”

So much would be lost, even if it was human territory.

“I don’t know,” Sophie answered, looking troubled. She snapped out of it as he pulled the second pathfinder out, the one that would lead back home. “Are you leaving?”

Her voice hitched, and she’d tensed. “I have to find out what my dad wants to do now--if he even knows.” If he had, I wouldn’t have had to think on the spot and nearly lost you as soon as I found you. “ Neither of us thought you were going to be the girl. He’s not going to be happy I took you to our cities, even though I was careful no one saw us. So please don’t tell anyone about anything I’ve shown you today.”

He was hoping the fact they’d finally found Sophie after twelve years of searching would be enough to negate whatever lecture or grounding he’d receive. Especially since it wasn’t like his dad had prepared him for actually finding her. But none of that would matter if Sophie started talking.

But, for some reason, he believed her when she said, “I won’t. I promise.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled. This job had gotten a lot more complicated than just quick visits, and he wasn’t sure of anything anymore--except that he needed to talk to his dad. “And make sure you act normal so your family doesn’t suspect anything.”

Sophie nodded, so he adjusted the crystal back to Everglen, but she wasn’t done. “Fitz?”

He glanced up, and she’d straightened, as if bracing herself.

“Why can’t I hear your thoughts?”

He’d gotten so caught up in convincing her she was an elf, he’d nearly forgotten what’d convinced him in the first place. “I still can’t believe you’re a Telepath.”

She had to have beaten his record, which stung a little, but he couldn’t focus on that. Maybe that’s why she looked so exhausted and was always grimacing--had she learned to block yet? It had to be terrifying being so recently manifested all alone, especially around humans.

“Aren’t all elves Telepaths?”

“No. It’s a special ability. One of the rarer ones.” Being a Telepath was an honor, a point of pride. It wasn’t for just any elf. “And you’re only twelve, right?”

“I’ll be thirteen in six months,” she said, which was a weird way of saying yes.

He shook his head, recalling what his dad had told him when he’d first manifested. “That’s really young. They said I was the youngest to manifest, and I didn’t start reading minds until I was thirteen.”

“But…I’ve been hearing thoughts since I was five.”

“Five?” he repeated, the word bursting out. That wasn’t possible. No elf had ever manifested so young, and certainly not a Telepath. She had to have it mixed up. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” she said, with complete conviction. There was no doubt in her mind. “Is that wrong?”

“I have no idea.” That was a lie. He had every idea. She must’ve been misremembering, but her certainty unsettled him. It wasn’t technically allowed, but this situation gave him some wiggle room, and if he could see those memories for himself…

Narrowing his eyes, he pushed his consciousness forward.

And met an impenetrable, intangible black wall. It was so thorough it was as if she wasn’t there, like trying to read empty air.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you blocking me?” He’d thought she hadn’t known how, given the way the kids’ thoughts had assaulted her--then again, they’d gotten him, too, in a moment of weakness. But that was just a fluke. He knew what he was doing.

Sophie stepped back, averting her eyes. “I don’t even know what that is.”

Of course. She didn’t know any of the terminology. He had to explain it all. “It’s a way to keep Telepaths out. Kind of like putting a wall around your mind.” He’d never felt one so thick before--and he was one of the best Telepaths in the world.

“Is that why I can’t hear you?”

“Maybe.” He said absently, distracted. He kept searching for her, mind prodding around in the dark, his original goal forgotten as he tried to hear anything at all. “Can you tell me what I’m thinking right now?”

Sophie huffed. “I told you, I don’t hear your thoughts the way I do with other people.”

Fitz very patiently reminded himself she was new to all of this. “That’s because humans have weak minds--but that’s not what I meant. If you listen, can you hear me?”

She shouldn’t have been able to--no one had ever gotten past his blocking once he’d learned how except his dad. And that had been an accident. He’d been distracted.

Sophie shifted, and her eyebrows had gone up like the thought had never occurred to her. That was only confirmed as she answered, “I…don’t know. I’ve never tried to read a mind before.”

“You just have to trust your instincts. Concentrate. You’ll know what to do. Try.”

He’d be doing the same thing.

They squinted at each other in the middle of the neighborhood, but no matter how he twisted and warped his consciousness, he couldn’t even begin to find an end to the wall in any direction. He’d never felt anything so quiet.

And then Sophie repeated it. “You’ve never felt a mind as quiet as mine?”

He started. “You heard me?”

He’d thought if she occupied herself trying to read his mind, whatever defenses she was keeping up would weaken and he could slip through. She wasn’t supposed to actually make it through his blocking!

And she said she’d never even tried to read a mind before?

“Was I not supposed to?” Sophie’s eyes had widened again, her lips pressed together, but he couldn’t offer her the comfort he had before.

“No one else can.”

Who are you? Why was dad looking for you?

Sophie took a breath. “And you can’t read my mind?”

“Not even when I try my hardest.”

“Why?”

Fitz ran a hand through his hair. “I have no idea. But when you pair it with your eyes, and where you live--” he stopped, realizing this train of thought was one she shouldn’t hear. Oh, his dad was going to be furious when he heard all the rules he’d broken. “I need to ask my dad.”

He double checked his pathfinder, but Sophie’s voice had risen. “Wait--you can’t leave now.”

“I have to. I’ve already been gone too long.” If anyone checked his registry feed, he’d be in so much trouble. And so would his dad. It was one of the main reasons his trips needed to be short, but he’d gotten so caught up with Sophie.

Hopefully the Councillors were too busy with that tribunal to notice--and to notice he wasn’t with his family at the proceedings.

“Will I ever see you again?” Sophie asked as he raised the crystal, stopping him short. Did she really think they’d go through all that effort to find her just to see her once and then leave forever?

“Of course. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Probably. His dad would want to work quickly.

Sophie looked like she wanted to reach for his hand again. “How will I find you?”

He grinned at her as he stepped into the light. “Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”

Fitz may not have been at the tribunal proceedings, for which he was eternally grateful, but his family was stuck at them.

Including his dad.

Which meant all he could do was wait for them to come back, whenever that would be.

He’d changed as soon as he could, tossing the old outfit onto the floor of his closet where the rest of the horrible human clothes he’d gotten from Alvar were kept.

His hair still dripped from a hasty shower--though he swore the thick air had stuck in his throat, even after a bottle of Youth.

And he’d tried to start on that essay, he really had, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

About Sophie.

He’d found her. She was the one.

Neither of them had been expecting that--his dad had even given the shortest version of the Be Careful And Don’t Talk to Anyone lecture yet. It was more of a habit than necessary at this point. Fitz could probably recite it back word for word; he’d been tempted to try a few times.

Part of him wanted to leap back to check, make sure she wasn’t a dream that’d already vanished.

He tried to keep himself occupied, but ended up restless in the open rooms next to the entrance hall, watching the door.

Why couldn’t he get past her blocking? Why could she get past his? Who was she?

The sun had started to turn the sky a faint orange by the time his family returned, footsteps heavy on the path and Biana’s complaining audible through the closed door.

‘--not fair he didn’t have to sit through it--” she was saying, arms folded tight over her chest as the three of them swept in, his mother’s lips quirked fondly and his father pinching the bridge of his nose.

Biana noticed him first, scowling. “I bet you feel so lucky, huh? Did you have fun, wherever you were?”

Fitz couldn’t care less what his little sister had to say as his parents realized he was there.

He couldn’t stop the antsy energy as he shot to his feet, looking straight at his dad. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

His mom, wisely, said nothing and started to steer Biana away--but not without a glance and a smile, looking him over critically before nodding to herself.

His dad seemed to have stopped working for a moment, looking at him with faint confusion. “Is something wrong?” he asked, coming back to himself. “Did someone see you?”

He strode over, taking Fitz by the shoulder as he shook his head. “No--well, yes, but--”

Shaking his head and glancing around, his dad whispered, “We’ll talk more in my office.”

Staying quiet for the walk there was more agonizing than trying to convince Sophie she was an elf, and his dad’s brow was thoroughly crinkled by the time he’d closed the door and sank into the chair.

“How many people saw you? And where?”

Fitz shook his head. “No, that’s not--”

“Fitz,” he sighed, “you won’t be in trouble, I just need to know so I can--”

“She’s the one.”

His dad went quiet at his outburst, and Fitz almost apologized, but he just wasn’t listening.

“Pardon?”

Fitz said it again, and it all started pouring out. Maybe he should’ve used his time to think about what to say instead of failing at writing his essay. “Sophie’s an elf, the girl you sent me to look at. But her eyes are brown--and I thought that meant she was the wrong girl again, but she’s definitely not. She’s also a Telepath--and her mind is completely silent. I couldn’t get past her blocking, but she doesn’t even know what blocking is! And she could get past mine without even trying--her mind is seriously so quiet. But she’s definitely an elf, she understood Enlightened and even lifted, like, ten times her body weight when this giant streetlight started to fall on top of her after she nearly got hit by a car running into the street and--”

“Hold on, son. Calm down.” His dad held up his hands, and Fitz fell silent, realizing he’d started gripping the chairs of the arm like a lifeline. He eased his hold. “Let’s start over--walk me through what happened--slowly, okay? You’re sure she’s the girl?”

His voice had gone quiet, his eyes wide, gaze distant; with all the oddities of Sophie, Fitz wanted to know more than ever what was going on in his father’s head.

Fitz nodded. “I’m positive--I didn’t believe it at first, but she’s definitely an elf.”

His father shook his head slowly, marveling. “Tell me everything.”

Fitz spent the better part of the evening detailing the moment he’d arrived on the scene until the second he’d leaped back home, including the parts where he’d not only talked to Sophie--his dad had started to frown at that, but when it became clear that was the least of their worries, he’d let it go--to bringing her to their cities.

“It was the only way I could convince her,” he explained, a little desperate. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but--”

His dad’s raised hand silenced him, and his shoulders relaxed as he said. “You’re not in trouble, Fitz. You did the best you could--which is all I could ask for. I should’ve prepared you better, but after so long, I didn’t truly believe this Sophie would be the girl. You told her tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Should I not have?”

His dad shook his head. “No, no. If that’s what you told her, I’ll make it happen. It sounds like I have much to do now.” He started to rise from his chair and Fitz recognized he was being dismissed.

He was only useful for sneaking away, not for…whatever else all this was about.

Fitz shifted in his seat, a question burning the back of his throat, and he blurted it out before he could remind himself it was a bad idea. “Dad? Who--who is she? Why were you looking for her?”

His father stopped on his way to the door, turning to look at him and resting a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t share that with you, son. But there’s no reason to worry.”

He’d heard those words so many times he’d lost count--and he usually believed them.

But as he left his father’s office, he couldn’t shake the feeling they were on the precipice of something big.

“What were you and dad talking about?” Biana accosted him on his way to his room, practically appearing out of the shadows.

He scowled. “None of your business.”

“Fine. It’s not like I care.” She didn’t look at him as she asked. “Do you want to play base quest tomorrow? You can invite Keefe.”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d be back--for the last time--in the Forbidden Cities.

The last time.

He’d never have to go on another stupid scouting mission again. Because he’d finally found her.

“I can’t. Dad--”

Biana rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Forget I asked.” She pushed past him even though the hall was wide enough for ten people, eyes on the ground--and he could’ve sworn hurt flashed through her frustration, but he didn’t have the bandwidth to spare to think about her right now.

They could play base quest anytime. Sophie was a once in a lifetime thing.

Which is why, the next morning, he was nearly bouncing on his feet as he got dressed in human clothes for the last time.

Nothing could ruin his good mood, not even the fact his essay would be late because he wouldn’t be in class today.

“Remember, no more leaping until you’ve given her a nexus--understood?” Fitz nodded as his dad handed his old one over. He slipped it into one of the inconveniently located pockets in his outfit. It was just as horribly uncomfortable as the other--he swore the jacket was trying to bite him.

But he wouldn’t have to wear human clothes ever again after today.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Coordinates?”

His father shook his head with a smile, then, instead of giving him the coordinates, simply adjusted the pathfinder himself. “This will take you to Sophie’s school, and--”

“Dad. You can spare me the lecture. I’ve done this before.”

“You’ve visited the Forbidden Cities before,” he corrected, “but now that we’ve found her, it’s different.”

Fitz sighed as his dad continued, holding his shoulders and looking into his eyes to make sure he was paying attention. In his own defense, the assignment was simple.

Go to Sophie’s school. Find Sophie. Bring her back.

Then his dad would take over, and he’d…he wasn’t sure what. Go back to normal? But this was his normal.

It was almost over. His dad had coordinated the Council meeting, Sophie would be the one to take the test, and all he had to do was be there.

Moral support, his father said, since she’d trusted him once before. Stay near Sophie; she’ll need a familiar face.

His father cleared his throat. His voice got quieter. “One more thing, Fitz.”

Fitz paused. “Yeah?”

His dad took a moment to find the words. “When I meet with the Council, I’ll be requesting Sophie stay with us. Permanently.”

“You--?” he started, but he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. With us? Permanently?

“I know it will be an adjustment, but I’m certain our family can handle it.” He squeezed his shoulder with a practiced smile. “But we’ll talk more on that later. For now, we need to get her here, and get her through the adjustment. I know I can trust you with that, son.”

His dad finally let him go, pressing the adjusted pathfinder into his hands; Fitz hesitated for a brief moment before he nodded. “Of course.”

He raised the pathfinder and stepped into the light.

He coughed as he glittered into the Forbidden Cities, already missing the Pures. The school was a few blocks away, too crowded for him to leap closer. Which had originally been a nuisance, but now he was suddenly grateful.

Sophie, living with them. He hadn’t thought about what his father would do with her, but honestly, what else would he do? Even if she hadn’t been twelve years of work come to fruition, his father loved to meddle and monitor--it’s what made him so good at his work (the legal and illegal).

And if Sophie stayed with them, he’d have plenty of opportunities to ask the million questions that’d been bubbling in the back of his mind since that horde of kids had exposed them both.

And there had to be a way past her blocking--he refused to admit defeat.

A sudden, profoundly eager anticipation bolstered his step, and he made himself slow as the building came into view. He reached into his jacket pocket and turned on the obscurer. This wasn’t a museum; a random kid out of place would be a lot easier to spot.

It was, like all human schools, tiny. Rough brick and peeling paint over metal, rust along the edges. Trash next to bins and stuck in rocks, tassels sagging against chain link fences. He couldn’t imagine staying here long, much less learning here.

He reinforced his mind, yesterday’s incident a fresh lesson, even if it had all worked out in the end--kind of. He ran over his own questions again as he strode mostly aimless through the halls, unsure where, exactly, Sophie was, but aware the Council wouldn’t like to be kept waiting. If it was anyone else, he’d try and track her, but with her blocking, he’d probably just give himself a headache.

Where had she learned to block like that? How do I learn that?

He jumped when a bell blared through the air, and kids started moving in a rush. Finally, he caught sight of her, her brow furrowed as ever as she lurked at the back of the crowd..

He sped up, cutting across the grass at a light jog to get ahead of her and duck into an alley between two of the small buildings. There was just enough time to switch off the obscurer, then she passed by. He reached out and grabbed her.

Her mouth fell open and terror widened her eyes--until she saw him, and it switched to fury. “Where have you been?”

Sophie was loud enough a few heads turned towards them, and she switched to a hiss. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been going through?”

She was more furious than Biana losing bramble, and if they drew any more attention he’d definitely get in trouble this time, but he just grinned. He couldn’t help it. This was so much better than all those fruitless searches. “Missed me bad, huh?”

Her face blanked for a moment, turning a ferocious red. “More like you left me alone with a ton of unanswered questions and no way to find you, and then this guy shows up and tried to grab me and--”

His smile slipped. “Whoa--wait. What guy?”

“I don’t know, some creepy blond guy tried to trick me into wandering off with him, and when I wouldn’t, it looked like he was going to snatch me but I wasn’t sure because I couldn’t hear his thoughts and I think he might be another elf.”

The words burst from her in a rush of anxiety so intense, he felt like an empath for a moment, and his mind whirled trying to make sense of everything. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. “Okay, slow down. No one else knows you’re here--only my dad, and he sent me to get you.”

Well, his dad had probably told the Council by now what the meeting was about, but that wasn’t enough time for them to do anything about it.

“Then why couldn’t I hear his thoughts?”

He’d never heard of a human with a silent mind. “I don’t know. Are you sure you couldn’t?”

Sophie looked ready to argue without even thinking about it, but he implored her to at least try and remember. Because there was no way anyone else could’ve found her--no one else was even looking!

“Maybe not,” Sophie quietly admitted, but she mostly looked confused, not comforted.

He tried to ease her mind, all too aware the time he’d lost wandering--and the human who’d started eyeing their conversation. “My guess is he was human, and maybe his mind is just quieter than the others. But we’ll check with my dad. We’d better move though. We can’t leap with people around.” He pointed to the human, who flushed and turned away, but the nerves on Sophie’s face had nothing to do with being spotted.

“Leap? I can’t ditch class, Fitz,” she argued, pulling against his grip and trying to dig her heels in. It didn’t work. “They’ll call my parents--and after yesterday I think my mom might strangle me.”

Her “parents” were definitely a problem--but not in the way Sophie thought. Though they wouldn’t be one for much longer. “This is important, Sophie. You have to come with me.”

“Why?”

Because you have to! You don’t belong here and you can’t stay. “Just trust me.”

Finally, she managed to jerk against him hard enough to pull them to a stop. Lips in a furious set, a piece of hair falling into her face, he knew he was in for another round of debating and argument--which they did not have time for.

“How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t even tell me anything?”

Fitz was pretty sure he’d used that exact argument against his dad, back when he’d first started looking for Sophie. He hadn’t won.

“You can trust me because I’m here to help you,” he told her. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he wondered if he should just drag her along regardless of what she thought she wanted. If they kept the Council waiting any longer for her test--

“A test!?” Sophie interrupted, and Fitz’s blood ran cold. “What am I being tested for?”

He dragged her deeper into a patch of shade. “You read my mind?” Rude. “You can’t do that, Sophie. You can’t listen to someone’s thoughts any time you want to know something. There are rules.”

He hadn’t even felt her, not even a hint of her trying. That unnerved him more than being violated.

“You’ve tried to read my mind without my permission,” she reminded him stubbornly, not looking at all sorry.

He huffed. “That’s different. I’m on assignment.” Kind of. It was technically still an illegal assignment, but the Council had to know by now where he was, and that this wasn’t the first time he’d been sent out. Which at least meant he’d now get to claim all the experience he’d spent his childhood gathering--unless they decided everything being off-record didn’t count. They’d better not.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sophie demanded, bringing him back.

“It doesn’t matter,” he ran his hands through his hair, as if it would smooth away the prickle on his skin. “What matters is you could get in big trouble for invading someone’s mind like that. It’s a serious offense.” One of the most powerful Telepaths he’d ever met and she’d never even learned the ethics. It was a nightmare waiting to happen.

He was lucky she’d only caught that snippet.

But her face had finally lost its fury, and now she looked…scared. Embarrassed. And she whispered, “Really?”

Even so, he couldn’t entirely let go of his frustration. He should’ve felt something. “Yeah. So don’t do it again.”

Mollified, she started to nod--then froze, and the panic in her eyes shone so stark the rest of his anger evaporated. “He’s here. The guy who tried to grab me.”

“Where?” He stood straighter, looking around, sending out his consciousness--focusing on the tree when she pointed that way. But he found nothing. Either way, he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her while he was responsible for her. He pulled out his dad’s pathfinder. “I don’t see anyone--but let’s get out of here. We shouldn’t keep everyone waiting, anyway.”

“Who’s everyone?” She’d scooted closer.

He adjusted the pathfinder to Everglen. “My parents, and a committee of our Councillors. It’s part of the test you heard me thinking about when you broke into my head.” Okay, maybe the rest of his anger hadn’t completely evaporated.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. He glanced at her, and she stared at her feet.

There was no use dwelling on it. He took her hand and drew them out of the shade, catching a beam. “Ready?”

“Can you tell me what the test determines?” she asked after a nod, because she was never out of questions. But to be fair, neither was he, not when it came to her.

He grinned at her, meeting her eye as he drew them into the light. “Your future.”

When they reappeared, Sophie immediately raised her hand to cover her eyes, blinking furiously.

Fitz switched to Enlightened. “Welcome to Everglen. What do you think?”

“It’s very bright,” she managed, more blindly following where he pulled her than walking on her own. Though in her case, it was more like stumbling.

He laughed.. “Yeah. The gate absorbs all the light, so no one can leap directly inside.” Though he wished there were a way to specifically allow family directly inside, so then he wouldn’t have to wait outside like everyone else. He lived here after all. “My dad works for the Council, so he likes his privacy at home.”

“I guess.”

Before he could respond, his dad opened the gates, and he glanced between the two of them, looking them over. “Sophie, this is my father, Alden.” It was weird to say his name, but it would’ve been weirder to have Sophie calling him ‘Fitz’s dad.’

Intimidated, Sophie only gave a small wave, but his dad was probably expecting that. Sometimes he intimidated Fitz, and he was his father.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sophie. I see Fitz wasn’t kidding about the brown eyes. Most unusual.” Fitz rolled his eyes at that, which luckily both of them missed as Sophie answered, “Oh. Uh. Yeah.” Of course he hadn’t been kidding!

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I think the color is quite pretty,” his dad assured her, and Fitz noticed she’d flushed again. She seemed to do that a lot too--almost as much as she asked questions. “Don’t you, Fitz?”

Fitz nodded, but he had other things on his mind. “They’re unique. Did you tell anyone else where Sophie was?”

Frowning, his dad answered, “Only the Council, why?”

“Sophie said someone tried to take her this morning.”

His dad turned back to Sophie with a start. “Are you okay?”

Sophie shifted under the attention, glancing at Fitz. “Yeah. He never got close enough to grab me. He just looked like he wanted to.

“Humans,” his dad sighed.

“Actually, Sophie thought he might be an elf,” he corrected. Since clearly Sophie wasn’t going to.

His dad’s voice filled his mind then as their eyes met. You don’t know anything more about this figure, do you?

Only what Sophie told me. I didn’t see him myself. You should ask her--she talks a lot, she’s just nervous.

Of course--thank you, Fitz

His dad shook his head, focusing on Sophie. “Kidnapping is a human crime. I’ve never heard of an elf even considering such a thing--much less trying it. What made you think it was one of us?”

Arms tight around herself, she explained, “I might’ve been wrong. I just can’t remember hearing his thoughts--which has only happened around Fitz. And now you.”

“Yes, Fitz told me about your telepathy. Do you mind?” He’d reached out a hand to rest on her forehead--which she immediately backed away from with an, “Um.”

His father rushed to reassure her, voice low and smooth like all the times he’d comforted him and Biana after they’d scraped their knees or woken from nightmares. “I mean you no harm, I assure you. I’d love to see your memories of the kidnapper, if that’s okay?”

Sophie’s eyebrows shot up, and she glanced at FItz. With a small smile, he dipped his head, trying to tell her it would be alright. He doubted his dad would even be able to find anything, not if Fitz hadn’t been able to. But if anyone else could, it would be his dad.

“Okay,” she whispered, focusing on his dad’s face. His dad closed his eyes in concentration.

Sophie fidgeted, and Fitz shifted his weight, waiting, his shoulders tense.

“Well,” his dad said, pulling away, and satisfaction--with a small amount of relief--bloomed in Fitz’s chest as he continued, “you are indeed a fascinating girl.”

He grinned. “Couldn’t hear her either, could you?”

“No,” and Fitz had to resist the urge to physically react. Sophie still looked nervous. “Well, I’ll look into what happened this morning, but I’m sure there’s no reason to worry. You’re here now, and it’s perfectly safe in our world--” he cut off, then frowned at Fitz. “I specifically told you not to leap her again without a nexus.”

Right. The nexus. He’d hadn’t even remembered he’d brought one. “Sorry, I forgot. Sophie thought she saw the guy who tried to grab her, so we had to get out of there quick. But we’re fine. I had us covered.”

The nexus was just his dad being paranoid, but still, he held out his hand. “That’s not the point.

Sighing, Fitz pulled his old nexus from his pocket, handing it over.

Sophie just watched, eyes wide as his dad put it on for her, asking, “Is that comfortable?”

She just nodded, looking at the old beat up thing; it’d taken more than a few hits in bramble with his siblings and Keefe, but it’d work for now.

One final click and his dad announced, “There. All set.”

“Um. What is it?” There were those questions again--but as his dad started to answer, a pang threaded through his chest. Sure, it was annoying how little Sophie knew, but that wasn’t her fault. And sure, some things hadn’t gone according to plan, but he’d handled it fine.

Watching Sophie’s face, he only caught the last part of what his dad said: “Fitz never should have let you leap without one--even with the stressful circumstances.”

Indignation sparked alongside the unidentified twinge. Hey!

“But Fitz doesn’t have one,” Sophie pointed out, literally pointing at him.

“I got mine off early,” he explained, straightening his shoulders as she looked at him again, satisfaction calming the ache. “My concentration is strong enough for three people--which is why we’re fine. Sophie’s not even a little bit faded, and you know it.”

I do know what I’m doing, Dad.

But his dad said, quiet, “Only fools overestimate their skills, son. You’ve never had to watch someone fade away. Perhaps if you had, you would be more cautious.”

It wasn’t fair of him to play that card. But Sophie was fine. He’d made sure of it.

And yet, Fitz couldn’t meet his eyes.

Sophie’s quiet voice broke the silence, ever curious. “What does it mean to fade away?”

Fitz glanced at his father, expecting his stern expression to continue silently scolding him, but his eyes were distant. “It’s when you lose too much of yourself in a leap. Your body isn’t able to fully reform, and eventually the light pulls the rest of you away and you’re lost forever.”

Fitz had heard the cautionary tales a million times before, as far back as his memory went, but this was Sophie’s first time; she’d gone white, quiet. He didn’t like that.

“It’s only happened a few times,” he cleared his throat, shattering the tension, “and we’d prefer to keep it that way.” He looked sternly at Fitz--there was the silent chastising he’d been waiting for.

But Sophie was watching. He was not about to be openly scolded in front of her again, so he said, “Fine. The next time you send me on a secret mission to collect a long-lost elf, I’ll be sure to put the nexus on before I leap her here.”

His father’s lips twitched, and he knew they’d reached a silent agreement. Yes, Fitz should have made her wear the nexus, but there was no undoing the leap and it had all worked out. So there was no reason to worry.

“We shouldn’t keep our guests waiting,” his dad said, and started to lead their little group down the path to the house.

Sophie took a breath, steeling herself as she followed. Her eyes darted around the lush foliage he’d always taken for granted but was so different from where he’d found her. She’d get used to it once she moved here.

“How exactly does this test decide my future?” Sophie asked, curious again, which was how he knew she’d recovered.

He hummed. She must not have been in his head very long when she’d overheard him thinking about it. “They’re testing you to see if you qualify for Foxfire.”

“Isn’t that a glowing fungus?”

He almost stopped in his tracks, and his dad started laughing loudly up ahead. “It’s our most prestigious academy.”

“You named your most prestigious academy after fungus?”

He huffed, glaring at her. “It represents a bright glow in a darkened world!”

Fungus. Did she hear herself? It was like she had no respect for…well, anything!

“But…the light comes from fungus,” she continued, because she enjoyed being awful.

He rolled his eyes. “Will you stop saying ‘fungus’? Only those with the strongest talent qualify for Foxfire, and if you don’t get in, you might as well kiss your future goodbye.”

The words had more heat than was strictly necessary, but he’d worked hard to score as high as he did on the entrance exams--and even harder to rank number one in his grade while constantly missing classes for his dad. Not that anyone ever realized.

Speaking of his dad, he placed a hand on his shoulder, which only made him more aware of the itchy fabric, addressing Sophie like he wasn’t there. “You’ll have to excuse my son. He’s very proud to attend Foxfire--and it’s definitely an accomplishment. But don’t let him worry you. The earliest levels are more of a testing ground, to see who develops abilities that qualify them to continue with their studies.”

Sophie, was, in fact, letting Fitz worry her by the look on her face. He bit back what he was going to say, mollified. He could’ve sworn her eyes were slightly glassy for a moment, but she blinked it away. “Is it going to be hard to get into Foxfire?”

His dad winced. “Councillor Bronte will be difficult to impress. He feels your upbringing should disqualify you. Plus, he doesn’t like surprises. The Council had no idea you existed until today, and he’s more than a little miffed about it. But you only need two out of three votes. Just do the best you can.”

Fitz’s mind wandered after the comment about Bronte--he was definitely glad he wasn’t the one being tested. He would’ve passed, obviously, but still. He wondered what his reaction had been when his dad had told them, and chills raised on his arms at the mental image he conjured.

He glanced at Sophie to see how she was holding up, to see if she was starting to understand, but they’d just entered another clearing, and her face had gone entirely blank.

“What?”

He didn’t realize what’d caught her so off guard until his dad smiled. “I’m guessing this isn’t quite how you pictured gnomes, is it?”

Fitz hadn’t even realized there were gnomes around, he’d been so wrapped up in his own musings. He caught sight of a few he recognized and offered polite waves, which they returned equally polite.

“Um, no,” Sophie said, then, ludicrously, “So…you have gnomes for servants?”

He wondered if they had an elf class for dummies at Foxfire. Sophie might need it.

His father had stopped in his tracks, a faint color on his cheeks. “We would never have servants. The gnomes choose to live with us because it’s safer in our world. And they help in our gardens because they enjoy it. We’re privileged to have them. You’ll get your first taste of gnomish produce during lunch, and you’re in for quite a treat.”

Sophie didn’t have anything to say to that, though her mouth twisted slightly at what the gnomes were harvesting. Ridiculously, he found he was looking forward to seeing what she thought of lunch. Sure, she said blatantly stupid things sometimes, but her odd comments were…entertaining.

Sophie’s mouth dropped as they reached the house, her eyes so wide he worried they’d fall out, and he couldn’t help feeling a little smug. She’d probably never seen a house so grand--and probably wouldn’t find anything grander. Everglen was hard to top.

And he called it home.

So would she, he reminded himself. The knowledge still fluttered, giddy, in the back of his mind, still not quite real.

“This way.” His father led them under the colored fountains to one of their formal dining rooms, where three Councillors waited inside. “You have nothing to be afraid of.”

His dad was holding Sophie’s hand, so he nodded at Fitz. He stepped forward, pulling open the doors. He wished, regretfully, that he’d had time to change.

Trailing behind the two of them, he gave a small bow when he caught sight of the Councillors. His father inclined his head.

Sophie just stared.

He watched her watch Kenric, Oralie, and Bronte, curious what questions she’d have; he wanted to answer them.

“Councillors,” his dad introduced, “this is Sophie Foster. Sophie, this is Kenric, Oralie, and Bronte.”

Sophie gasped, and when he followed her gaze, her eyes were on Bronte--or at least, they had been. Now she stared at the floor, blushing furiously.

“What?” Bronte demanded, bristling in his seat and scowling like he always did. Fitz didn’t think he’d ever seen the Councillor happy, and he’d met him more than most elves--”perk” of his father’s position.

“Sorry. I was surprised by your ears.”

Whatever he’d thought Sophie was going to say, it wasn’t that.

He had to lean against his knees to keep from falling over as he cackled, unrestrained and loud, only amplified by the room’s vaulted ceilings. He’d started to gasp for air when Bronte asked, “My ears?”

He tried to catch Sophie’s eye to grin at her, because that one moment had made the years of searching and the stress of the past two days worth it, but she was too busy rigidly staring at the wall, mortified.

“I think she’s surprised that your ears are…pointy.” His father tried to put it delicately before turning to Sophie. “Our ears change shape as we age. Eventually it’ll happen to all of us.”

Sophie clapped her hands on the side of her head, mouth agape. “I’m going to get pointy ears?”

Fitz had to raise a hand to his mouth to try and silence his coughing, because Bronte had started to glare at him, but he just couldn’t help it! Sophie said the most random things sometimes--and she looked so horrified. How could he not laugh?

After so many years, there was finally something new. Even though he was now absolutely certain she was an elf, there were so many mysteries surrounding her.

“Not for a few thousand years,” his dad clarified, moving to pull a chair out for her, which she plopped into absently

His father gave Fitz a look, and he inclined his head in subtle acknowledgement of his earlier instructions.Taking the seat next to her, he watched her process, and wanted desperately to know what was going on inside her head.

“How long do elves live?”

Kenric answered before he could, and Fitz tried hard not to mind. “We don’t know. No one’s died of old age yet.”

Sophie’s hand worked over her forehead like she had a headache--which didn’t make sense, since there were no humans around to blast their minds. “So, you’re saying elves are…immortal?”

Fitz discreetly eyed the three Councillors as his father explained that no, they could die, but they stopped aging in every way besides their ears. Bronte glared openly, but his face might’ve just been stuck like that. Kenric watched Oralie, who studied Sophie with a tilt to her head as lunch began.

Aware of their presence and his outfit (it was hard not to be with the way it rubbed), he put his excellent table manners to good use, of which Sophie seemed to have none. Bronte frowned as he watched her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

He may not have been able to read her mind, but the grimace spoke volumes. Until she actually tried the carnissa root, and her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. “What is this stuff?”

“That’s mashed carnissa root,” his father explained. “The black strips are umber leaves.”

Fitz took a bite of one as Sophie did. He’d always liked them for their unique texture, but then she said, “Tastes like chicken.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could even think them--or swallow. “You eat animals?”

Surely he’d heard her wrong. She must’ve said they tasted like…lichen. Yes, it must’ve been lichen. Despite the fact the words started with two completely different sounds.

But as he watched her, she nodded like that was a totally normal answer.

What was she, some kind of ogre?

“I take it elves are vegetarians?” She phrased it like a question, but she clearly knew the answer before they all started nodding.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Bronte’s impatience growing, so discarding his manners, he stuffed the rest of his umber leaves in his mouth, wondering what chicken tasted like.

Bronte ended their temporary peace. “So, Sophie. Alden tells me you’re a Telepath.”

Sophie said nothing. He was about to nudge her when his father interrupted. “Yes. She’s been reading minds since she was five. Isn’t that right, Sophie?”

Silently, she nodded.

I could’ve told them that.

Kenric and Oralie visibly startled. Bronte scoffed, “That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard,” which was bold coming from one of the most absurd people he’d ever met. He couldn’t wait for this to be over, and he wasn’t even the one being tested.

At least Kenric and Oralie hadn’t had anything bad to say yet--but this was Sophie. Knowing her, she’d ask about their ridiculously obvious infatuation with each other and they’d have to exile her to deal with the embarrassment.

“It’s unusual,” his father corrected, and Fitz heard the edge in his voice.

Maybe Bronte did, too, because he turned to Sophie with a challenge. “Let’s see how good you are, then. Tell me what I’m thinking.”

It fell so incredibly silent not even a vanisher could hide as they all turned to look at Sophie.

Sophie looked at him. Hesitant. And even though he’d only known her a day, he knew what must’ve been on her mind--her breach of etiquette was still fresh in his own, after all. “He gave you permission,” he told her, and he liked the faint flicker of confusion on his father’s face.

Sophie nodded, and he watched resolve settle her features as she turned to look at Bronte. Her eyes closed; he continued to keep his on her.

She had this.

Fitz’s blocking was strong, so if she’d gotten through his mind so easily, there was no way Bronte would be a challenge. Bronte just hated that they were right.

Sure enough, Sophie opened her eyes and said, “You’re thinking you’re the only one at this table with any common sense. And you’re tired of watching Kenric stare at Oralie.”

This time Fitz was more successful containing himself, his hand firmly to his mouth as all three Councillors flushed and spluttered.

“I take it that’s right?” his father asked, though it was obvious.

“How can that be?” Bronte demanded, sitting rigid in his chair. “An Ancient mind is almost impenetrable.”

“The key word in that sentence is ‘almost’.” Alden smiled slightly, glancing over at him. “Don’t feel bad--she also breached Fitz’s blocking.”

Suddenly it wasn’t very funny anymore, and his cheeks burned. Sophie slumped in her seat next to him, hiding behind her hair. Bronte grinned at him, sharp and cruel. “Sounds like Alden’s golden boy isn’t as infallible as everyone thinks.”

Retorts burned the back of his throat, but he was acutely aware that, as much as everyone grumbled, he was Senior Councillor Bronte--and that Sophie was watching.

Luckily, his father had more freedom to push back. “It’s more likely that Sophie is exceptionally special. Fitz also saw her lift more than ten times her weight with telekinesis yesterday.”

Which Fitz also could’ve told them, if they weren’t too busy being embarrassed and ridiculing him. He was the one who’d seen it, after all.

Honestly, it was ridiculous. Who did they think he was, some child?

Kenric’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding! At her age? Now that I have to see.”

Fitz nodded. He remembered his own disbelief, Sophie sat there in the road with the light above her, perfectly still like it’d been made to hover exactly there.

That would definitely help her case.

Even though her telepathic display proved her strength, the fact it’d once again proven Bronte wrong couldn’t be good for her. He couldn’t be trusted to vote fairly.

Sophie fidgeted. “But…I don’t know how I did it. It just sort of happened.”

“Just relax, Sophie,” his father soothed, and gestured to her goblet. “Why not try something small?”

After a moment, Sophie raised her arm, concentrating on the goblet as her brow furrowed. Then, her mouth twitched. The crystal raised into the air. He had half a thought to tap it, just to see if it’d wobble.

“I did it.” She sounded more surprised than anything.

“That’s it?”

Before Fitz could argue, Senior Councillor be damned, his father cut in. Which was probably for the best, but still chaffed. “Give her a second. She’s still getting used to her ability.” He turned to her, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder like he’d done to Fitz so many times. “Take a deep breath--relax--then see what else you can do. And remember, your mind has no limitations--unlike your physical body.”

Bronte scowled as Sophie received her pep-talk, and Fitz scowled back.

Sophie blew out a breath and he turned. He didn’t dare speak as her lips pressed together.

Movement caught his eye, and a smile pulled at his own. Every goblet at the table raised in tandem. This time he did reach out and tap; it made a small ping, but stayed perfectly immobile. Like it was made to be right there, just like the street lamp.

Kenric’s sudden, sharp applause nearly made him jump. “Excellent control.”

“Thanks.” Did her voice sound a little strained, or was that just him?

“It’s a couple of glasses,” Bronte argued with a roll of his eyes. “I thought she was supposed to be able to lift ten times her body weight.”

C’mon, don’t let him get to you, Sophie.

Maybe she heard him, because she gritted her teeth and squinted her eyes--and three chairs lifted into the air.

Including the one holding Bronte. The Councillor gripped the arms and scowled down at the ground--but that was just his permanent expression.

“Incredible,” his father marveled.

But then Sophie shrieked. Fitz’s head whipped to the side, reaching towards her in alarm like there was anything he could do as crashes echoed louder than Kenric’s applause.

His hand froze. His mouth dropped open.

He took back what he said about the ear thing.

This made it all worth it.

“Help me up, you fools!”

This time everyone joined him, laughter bubbling from his chest at the sight of Senior Councillor Bronte sprawled on the floor--after Sophie had dropped him!

You’d think someone had just assigned her detention for the whole year the way she stared at Bronte’s prone form. Oralie reached to help, trying to stifle her own giggles. He should comfort Sophie, tell her that was the most epic thing he’d ever seen, but he couldn’t breathe.

“I’ve never seen such natural talent!” Kenric proclaimed, and Sophie jolted as his hand came down strong on her shoulder. “You’re even a natural at our language. Your accent is perfect. Almost as perfect as these guys’.”

He pointed at Fitz and his dad, and Sophie looked between them all like she suspected they were playing a trick on her. “I’m sorry, what?”

Her eyes were still on him, so he answered, grinning. “You’ve been speaking the Enlightened Language since we leaped here--just like you did yesterday.”

When he’d switched them to the language, she hadn’t said anything--which in retrospect, should’ve clued him in. From the look on Sophie’s face, she hadn’t even realized.

Her eyes drifted, still slightly vacant, as his father told her, “Our language is instinctive. We speak from birth--I’m sure people thought you were an interesting baby. Though to humans our language sounds like babbling.”

Which was awfully bold of them, considering how ridiculous so many human languages were; he couldn’t imagine how any of them communicated with each other. The English he’d studied when looking for Sophie was unbelievable--and don’t even get him started on the French. The tiny bits of Hindi he’d picked up he hadn’t actually minded, but Enlightened was still better.

Sophie, of course, didn’t seem to get the message and had gone pale again. So had her knuckles where she gripped the table. “Is there a word that sounds like ‘soybean’ in English?”

The word sounded so weird and foreign framed by the elegant babbling of Enlightened, he had no clue what she was getting at.

“Soybean?” his dad repeated, and it didn’t sound any better.

“I used to say it as a baby. My parents thought I was trying to say my name and mispronouncing it. They even turned it into a nickname.”

Ha! Soybean…

Sophie flushed as he snickered. He’d laughed more today than he had in weeks. “A really annoying one.”

“I can’t think of what that would be,” Kenric mused, and Fitz had to agree.

But Bronte demanded, “What is it?” when his father didn’t.

“Probably nothing,” he answered, which definitely meant something was up.

He’d gotten that look on his face he always got before he holed himself up in his office for days to work on his mystery projects--the projects Fitz’d learned he wasn’t supposed to ask about. Even when they needed him.

“I’ll decide if it’s nothing.”

Soybean…what word could that be like? If his father thought there was something, Fitz could figure it out, too.

Soleem? Saupein? Zoezin?

“It’s…possible she was saying suldreen--but it’s a stretch.”

Fitz blinked. He’d only heard the word a few times before--and always when other prodigies were lamenting how rare the prattles pin was. Why would Sophie ever try to say that word--especially as a baby?

Who even cared about moonlarks anyway?

“What does suldreen mean?” Sophie asked.

For some reason, his father hesitated. “It’s the proper name for a moonlark, a rare species of bird.”

“And that’s bad because…?” she continued, sharing Fitz’s confusion.

“It’s not bad. It’s just interesting,” his father said, which meant there was definitely something he wasn’t sharing. But there always was with him.

“Troubling is what it is,” Bronte grumbled, and Fitz glared at him.

“Why would it be troubling?” she asked, voice raised in pitch.

His father tried to comfort her, but Fitz knew what he was really doing. Diverting her attention. Containing the damage. Which meant she was onto something. But what did some stupid bird have to do with anything?

“It would be an uncomfortable coincidence,” his dad said, which didn’t make any sense at all. “But most likely you were trying to say your name. You were hearing it all the time so it’s natural that you would try to repeat it.”

Bronte rolled his eyes, done with this and everything else in the world. “Well, I think I’ve heard quite enough to make my decision. I vote against--and you will not convince me otherwise.”

Bronte was many things. Surprising was not one of them.

Neither was Kenric. “You’re being absurd, Bronte. I vote in favor--and you won’t convince me otherwise.”

Which meant Sophie’s future now rested in Councillor Oralie’s hands.

Fitz gripped the sleeves of his itching human jacket to keep from tearing through his hair; he’d snapped at Sophie for her idiotic comments about Foxfire--but he wanted her to pass.

“Give me your hand, Sophie,” Oralie commanded gently, holding out her own.

Sophie’s brow furrowed. “Oralie’s an Empath. She can feel your emotions,” Fitz explained, wondering what Oralie was looking for. And if Sophie had it.

“I feel a lot of fear and confusion,” Oralie said, absent, as if none of them were even there. Her grip on Sophie’s was feather-light. He held his breath. “But I’ve never felt such sincerity. And there’s something else….I’m not sure I can describe it.”

Fitz’s brows raised, and he glanced at Sophie, but her eyes were entirely on Oralie as her heart was laid bare before them.

“You have my vote.”

He wasn’t sure who sighed louder--Sophie, or himself.

“That settles it then.” His father grinned, but Fitz knew he’d been just as nervous.

Bronte, of course, couldn’t allow anyone to feel happiness ever. “For now. This will be revisited. I’ll make sure of it.”

“When?” His father tried to keep a neutral face--and to the others, he probably succeeded. But Fitz knew the crease in his brow, the downturn of his lips. Bronte would probably propose some ridiculous timeline, like next month.

“We should wait until the end of the year. Give Sophie some time to adjust.” Kenric suggested, and his father agreed. It made the most sense, which meant Bronte didn’t like it. “Fools. I invoke my right as Senior Councillor to demand a probe.”

His father, however, was one step ahead, and he couldn’t help smiling. “I’d planned as much. I’ve arranged to bring her to Quinlin as soon as we’re done here.”

Sophie, for some reason, grimaced. But he didn’t have the chance to ask her before his dad led the Councillors from the room and she turned to ask, “What’s a probe?”

Finally.

Fitz leaned back, casual. “Just a different way to read your mind. It’s no big deal. Happens all the time when you’re in telepathy training--” okay, maybe too casual, “--which it looks like you’ll be. I can’t believe you passed. It looked iffy there for a minute.”

She slumped back, too, staring up at the ceiling. “I know. Why did Bronte demand a probe?”

“Because he’s a pain.” He picked at a stray thread on his awful, awful pants. “Well, that and I think he’s worried that my dad couldn’t read your mind.”

He had a weird way of showing it, though.

“Worried?” she repeated, also conveniently announcing her own emotional state. Not that he needed her to tell him. The crease between her brows spoke loud and clear.

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “I guess maybe ‘bothered’ is a better word. My dad’s really good--and so am I,” he flashed a grin. His parents didn’t like it when he showed off, but they weren’t there to chide him. And the echoes of Bronte’s comments lingered. “So if we can’t read your mind, it’s kind of like, who can?”

Though he was still convinced if he had more time, he could figure her out. So it was a good thing she’d be moving in--they could practice together.

“Okay. But why does he care if no one can read my mind?”

He glanced at the doorway, where his father still wasn’t. “Probably because of your upbringing.”

It took her a moment, but her voice went quiet. She said more than asked, “You mean the fact that my family is human. And I’m not.”

There was more to it, years of closed doors, whispers, encoded scrolls he wasn’t supposed to ask about. But she’d figured that, at least, out for herself already. And it was the truth, so he nodded.

His father hadn’t told him everything, but he didn’t need to. This girl, Sophie, was an elf. One of them. But she didn’t know it--not until he’d told her yesterday. So she’d spent her entire life thinking she was human.

Thinking she belonged to a family that wasn’t hers. He looked away when he saw her expression crease.

She cleared her throat. “Why would that concern him?”

And because there was no use hiding it, he told her. “Because it’s never happened before.”

“Never?”

“No.” Of course not. Why would it?

Sophie went quiet, processing. Fitz studied the swirls on his dropped goblet, equally distant. Why did it? She’d inhaled to ask another question when his father returned, his face smoothed back into controlled gentleness.

Sophie would need it.

“Sophie, why don’t you come with me, and we’ll get you something else to wear. You’d better change too, Fitz.”

And even though that’s all he’d wanted to do since the moment he’d put these clothes on, he hesitated, half-way to opening his mouth even though he knew he wasn’t supposed to. But Sophie had already stood, and he remembered himself.

Still, he wondered.

Fitz shook off his questions as he changed, tossing this set of human clothes on top of the others from yesterday.

He’d never have to wear them again.

The thought tugged at him while he dressed, blessed elvin fabric soothing his tortured skin; he’d gone through these motions thousands of times before, but suddenly everything was different. Everything and nothing at the same time.

He shoved those thoughts aside too, hopping along as he finagled his boot on on his way to the foyer; he’d figure it out later. And he wouldn’t figure it out by asking, either--observation was a thousand times more revealing when it came to his father.

Sophie and his dad weren’t there yet when he arrived, so all he could do was wait.

He’d spent a lifetime waiting.

After a few minutes, uneasy footsteps sounded alongside his father’s gait, and he strode in with Sophie on his arm.

“Ah, Fitz, you’re already here. Perfect. Are you ready?” Fitz wasn’t sure who the question was addressed to--maybe his father himself, but Fitz was too busy looking Sophie over.

He hadn’t paid attention to what she’d been wearing before, but his dad must’ve given her one of Biana’s dresses. Bright red and long, beaded details along the torso, she looked…

Ridiculous.

She stood in it like she was trying to escape it, all rigid and angled--but he caught her eyes on him, taking in his elvin dress, and he straightened, flashing that grin he’d learned from Keefe his mother always chastised him for.

“You have pockets at your ankles,” she said, staring at his ankles, so he stared down at his ankles, too.

His dad looked amused. Fitz explained, “Well, I don’t want to sit on my things, obviously. I don’t know why humans do it--it’s so uncomfortable.” His imparter had poked at him all through that lunch with the Councillors.

“Some of our clothing has rear pockets,” his dad reminded him.

Fitz scrunched up his nose in distaste. “Yeah, but those pants suck.”

That got a slight smile out of Sophie, and a bit of self-satisfaction sparked.

“Fitz,” his father nodded at him, and Fitz took the pathfinder from where he’d tucked it in his sleeve. He didn’t reach for it, so Fitz adjusted it to the right facets himself. He took Sophie’s other hand. It shook in his, so he squeezed tighter as he raised the pathfinder and they vanished into the light.

He couldn’t help wincing when they reappeared; the crash of the waves always jarred him at first, no matter how many times he visited, but he wasn’t going to let Sophie see it.

She was too busy eyeing the rocks suspiciously, and asked, “This is Atlantis?”

“This is how we get to Atlantis,” his father explained. “Atlantis is underneath us, where light doesn’t reach. We can’t leap there.”

His father made for the disguised cabinet of whirlpools. Fitz tucked the pathfinder away again and trailed behind, so he could hide the smile trying to escape at the stumbling sounds from behind him.

When he’d schooled his expression, he slowed back down to walk next to her--and it was a good thing he did, because the next step Sophie took her ankle decided it needed a vacation, and she careened sideways. He caught her reflexively, sparing her a nasty scrape down the arm, silently helping her to her feet.

She’d gone red as her dress and wouldn’t meet his eye, mumbling an apology.

He shrugged it off. “I’m used to it. My sister, Biana, is clumsy too.”

Over Sophie’s head, he saw his dad’s brows raise.They both knew Biana was anything but, but the fib had slipped out before he’d thought to stop it. He’d gotten a little too used to lying his way out of sticky situations in the Forbidden Cities. He’d have to untrain the habit, but for now, his dad let it slide without further question.

“So, Atlantis really sank?” Sophie asked, pushing out of his support.

His dad took out a bottle of whirlpool. “The Ancients engineered the catastrophe. How else would humans think we disappeared? Stand back,” he added. He uncorked the bottle and tossed it into the ocean, opening the path.

Sophie balked as he offered, “Ladies first,” with a flourish.

“I’m sorry--what?” she shrieked, stumbling backward, though her ankles had clocked back in this time. He pressed his lips together, fighting back his amusement.

Fitz remembered how much work it had been to just get her to take his hand for a leap, and suggested, “Maybe you should go first, Dad.” Also, he wanted to see this.

His dad met his eyes for a moment, then nodded and was off.

Sophie’s shrill voice cut through the whipping wind, mouth agape as she stared into the water

Oh, this was going to be good. “Your turn,” he laughed, grabbing her arm to pull her to the edge.

She resisted, squirming and tugging against his grip--but he knew how to channel and she didn’t. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Not even close, he thought, grinning as she turned from pulling to pleading. The panic on her face made him feel a little bad--but not enough to stop. Because she’d be fine, she just didn’t know it yet. “It looks worse than it is.”

She eyed the whirlpool like it was going to eat her whole--which it was. “You seriously expect me to jump?”

“I can push you if you’d prefer.” Please let me push you.

She glared at him. “Don’t even think about it!”

He was thinking about it. A lot.

“Better jump then.” He angled himself behind her so she couldn’t escape. Because as fun as messing with her was, it wasn’t his goal. “I’ll give you to the count of five. One.”

And just like he’d anticipated, she stopped resisting. “Okay, okay.”

With a deep breath and much longer than five seconds, she stepped into the whirlpool--and screamed like she was being chased by an ogre the whole way down, fading out as the waves swallowed her.

He grinned after her, counting down until it was safe for him to follow. He couldn’t help himself. They’d gotten through the meeting and he was back to riding the high of the realization of almost a decade of work.

Sophie.

He jumped after her.

Sophie was hopping off the sponge as his dad told her, “Now this is Atlantis.”

“You guys build with crystal a lot.”

“Crystal stores the energy we use to power everything, and it’s cut to let precisely the right amount of light in,” his father explained, and Fitz watched Sophie take it all in. She seemed to have forgotten her dress, had stopped standing so awkwardly in it, and she looked so much more…elvin. He didn’t need a DNA match to know it, but it sank in more and more with each step they took towards the heart of the city.

The girl existed. He’d found her. And now she was in his world. Their world.

Why had she been with humans?

“Why did you sink Atlantis, and not the other cities?” her voice drew him back to the conversation, though he’d missed part of it.

“We built Atlantis for humans--that’s why you know the real name of the city. A long time ago humans walked these very streets.”

Fitz had never really cared, since they’d violated the treaty, but Sophie looked over the streets with a new light, something soft in her face he couldn’t understand.

His dad hailed a eurypterid carriage, one of his favorite parts of Atlantis trips, and Sophie once again made it known just how loud her vocal cords could be.

“What is that thing!?”

“An eurypterid. A sea scorpion.”

Fitz teased, “You’re not afraid, are you?” He crouched next to it to run his fingers over its shell, slippery from the water. Sophie stepped back, like she had on the ledge. So he said, “What is it with girls? See? Harmless,” as it spat and hissed under his touch.

Confident his goading would do its job, he hopped into the carriage, settling into a seat as his dad reminded her, “Quinlin’s waiting, Sophie. It’s time to find out what’s in that impenetrable mind of yours.”

Still, Sophie’s lips pressed thin as she darted in--and took a seat as far from the eurypterid as physically possible. Her back was practically flush with the seat, and he hid his smile behind his hand as his dad gave the driver directions.

“Who is this Quinlin guy anyway?” she asked, clearly trying to distract herself from the giant sea scorpion thrashing to pull them through the water.

“He’s the best probe I know. If anyone can slip into your brain, it’s him.”

Fitz didn’t think he could; and he noticed how conveniently his dad left out his…personal connection to Quinlin. Fitz gave him a subtle look he pointedly ignored.

Sophie was too nervous to notice. “Why does he work down here?”

“Atlantis is our most secure city,” his dad began to explain. Fitz was more interested in watching Sophie, but if a lifetime of sneaking through the Forbidden Cities had taught him anything, it was to be aware of his surroundings. And the driver had inclined his head back in surprise, listening to their conversation. “Anyone and anything that needs added protection is here. Including your file.”

Sophie started. “I have a file?”

“A highly classified one,” his father agreed, which was the understatement of the millennia. Everything to do with Sophie was more classified than anything he’d ever seen before in his life--and his dad was an Emissary. Classified was practically the job description.

But, he reminded himself with no small amount of satisfaction, he was part of it--even though he wasn’t officially nobility yet. Though that was only because his dad was too high profile to sneak around as easily as Fitz could; now that they’d found Sophie, his dad wouldn’t need him for that anymore. And now that the Council knew his dad had used Fitz to get around their surveillance, they’d keep a closer eye on him, too…

“What’s in it?”

Driver, Fitz transmitted before they delved even deeper into confidential topics.

His dad didn’t acknowledge he’d heard, but said, “You’ll see soon enough.”

Sophie got the message, and returned to surveying the city.

He’d thought that’d be the end of it, but he really should’ve known better.

“What with the random strings of letters?” she asked, pointing at a sign for pathfinder applications and distribution.

“The runes?” his father asked. Fitz glanced between them, sure that Sophie was going to point out something else. Surely she could read, right?

“Is that what these are?” she traced the letters on his old nexus, an old family quote.

“That’s our ancient alphabet.”

Fitz glanced between her and the letters, clear as day. “You can’t read it?”

Apparently she was illiterate.

Their eavesdropping driver was forgotten as his dad clarified, “But you can tell they’re letters?”

“Yeah, but it’s just a big jumble. Is that going to be a problem for school?”

“Nah, it’s rarely used,” Fitz shrugged, and Sophie exhaled in relief. “It’s only when they want to be fancy or something.”

“...is it wrong that I can’t read them?” Yes. But what wasn’t wrong with her?

“Reading should be instinctive.” His father hesitated. “But maybe your human education affected you somehow. We’ve never had anyone with your upbringing, so it’s hard to say.” Sophie didn’t look convinced, and neither was he.

His father refused to meet his eye when he looked at him, so he slumped against his seat. Already, he was being cut off. The exception made for him to find her was fading, and after today…his dad might never make an exception again. The thought smarted, but he couldn’t do anything about it. And really, he’d known, but he’d still hoped.

“How--”

“No reason to worry, Sophie,” his father lied. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out with more testing.”

Sophie went quiet, and no one spoke for the rest of the ride. Nor when they exited the carriage, or entered the building.

Their next words were his father to Quinlin, smiling, “Please, there’s no need for ceremony, my friend,” as he winked at his former cognate.

Fitz had seen Quinlin several times over, even though he hadn’t been alive during the strongest years of their cognatedom. He’d arrived just in time to watch it fall apart.

So Quinlin’s eyes skipped over him as he met Sophie’s. “Brown eyes?”

“Definitely unique,” his father said, stealing Fitz’s earlier comment.

Undoing their attempts at subtlety, Quinlin snorted. “That’s an understatement.” Sophie started to shift under his gaze, and even Fitz was getting uncomfortable before he continued. “You really found her--after all these years?”

He sounded as awed as Fitz had been when those kids had burst into the room. It still flickered in his chest.

She was real.

He looked her over again, from the hair she used as a shield to the nervous set of her mouth, to her squirming under a dress that tried to dwarf her, to those brown eyes he’d almost given up on.

“You tell me. Do you have her file?” his father asked, which was redundant, since it was the whole reason they’d scheduled this appointment. Of course Quinlin had it.

And he had it ready. He passed it over to Sophie. “Right here.”

The adults looked on, but Sophie simply held it, only a twitch of her brows betraying her confusion.

“You lick it. They need your DNA,” he told her, pointing to the sensor.

Grimacing, she tapped only the tip of her tongue against it for the briefest moment elvenly possible--and flinched back as the hologram declared her a match.

He grinned at her, but she was too busy not breathing.

He’d known it was her.

She was too smart not to be, too eye-catching, too different. It was why, despite the million lectures he’d endured, he’d still talked to her. And he’d been right.

There really would be no more assignments to the Forbidden Cities.

He’d found her. He’d found her.

“So this is why Prentice sacrificed everything.” Quinlin’s voice broke through his giddiness, and he’d fixed his intense gaze on the DNA holograms like he couldn’t believe they were real, like he desperately wanted them to be.

“He definitely had his reasons. You’ll see when you try the probe.”

Fitz paused at that. He’d thought this trip mostly a waste, since there was no way Quinlin could get into her brain if he and his dad couldn’t, and his dad was just being optimistic.

But he didn’t think Quinlin would be able to slip in either.

So…why were they even trying?

Sophie started as his father placed his hands gently on her shoulder, her file forgotten in her hands as she stared at Quinlin with wide eyes, like she was staring down an armed goblin regiment instead.

“It’s no big deal, Sophie,” Fitz assured her. He’d been probed countless times in his sessions as part of his training. And Quinlin wouldn’t even be able to find anything, so she had nothing to worry about.

“It’ll be done in less than a minute,” Quinlin said, reaching for her temples as she nodded the shakiest nod he’d ever seen.

But it was definitely much longer than a minute, so he reached out to his dad.

Why are you having him try if you know he won’t be able to read her mind either? You’re just stressing Sophie out.

We don’t know for certain he can’t, son.

He rolled his eyes. We both know he won’t be able to. So what’s the point?

His dad shook his head, but before he could rebuff him further, Quinlin pulled away with his mouth wide open.

“That’s what I thought,” his dad turned away, pacing like none of them were even there.

Sophie guessed, “You can’t hear anything either?”

“What does that mean?” Quinlin turned to Alden, like the two of them were alone.

They weren’t. Not only were Sophie and Fitz right there, but the receptionist had started to lean in a little.

His dad turned, face pinched. “It means she’ll be the greatest Keeper we’ve ever known, once she’s older.”

Something smarted in the back of his mind. Fitz’s telepathy mentor often said he thought Fitz would grow up to be an invaluable one, if he chose that path for himself.

But he pushed those thoughts away; it wasn’t her fault. She was even more confused than he was. He was being a jerk--even if she couldn’t hear his thoughts.

But…she could if she wanted to.

Something twinged in his chest, but he forced it down.

“If she isn’t already,” Quinlin snorted, and for some reason, his father stopped dead.

“What’s a Keeper?”

His father told her, a bit reluctantly, “Some information is too important to record. So we’ll share it with a Keeper, a highly trained Telepath, and leave them in charge of protecting the secret.”

“Then why would I already be one?”

His dad faked a smile. “Quinlin was joking about that.”

Fitz squinted at him, tempted to read his mind--as he had been every single time he’d been sent off to traipse fruitlessly through the Forbidden Cities trying to figure out why on earth his dad was so obsessed with this mysterious girl.

But like every other time, he refrained.

Receptionist, he transmitted instead, just like he had in the carriage, because she was definitely reshuffling the exact same papers she had been a minute ago, and his father suggested, “Perhaps we should talk upstairs.”

Fitz trailed at the back of the group, mind spinning. Sophie’d gone quiet after handing back her file, eyes wide and shoulders hunched--until she jolted forward when they entered Quinlin’s office.

“Why are you watching the San Diego wildfires?” she demanded, hand shaking as she pointed at the Forbidden City projected across the walls.

“You know the area?”

Sophie nodded, turning between the screens with tense shoulders. “Yeah, I live there.”

Quinlin gasped so loud Fitz thought the spying receptionist would still be able to hear it all the way downstairs. His father’s forehead had crinkled, but he didn’t look at Fitz as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me there were fires?”

Well, I was a little distracted by the elf with brown eyes living with humans completely ignorant to the truth of the world after I’d spent over a decade looking for her.

“I didn’t know they were important,” he said instead.

His father shook his head. “I didn’t ask you to tell me what was important, I asked you to tell me everything.” Fitz frowned, but his dad had already turned away. “Why were you watching the fires?”

Quinlin pointed, shoulder to shoulder with his dad. “They’re burning white hot--against the wind. Like they were set by someone who knew what they were doing. Plus…doesn’t it look like the sign?”

Both Sophie and Fitz perked up, and he stayed silent in the hopes they’d forget the two of them were even there and conveniently spill all the secrets they were clearly keeping.

“I’m guessing this is how you found the article you sent me. I’d wondered why you were looking there. We ruled that area out years ago.”

Ruled it out incorrectly, apparently. Thank goodness for that article, or Fitz would’ve scoured the entire world before they’d realize they’d made a mistake and had to start all over again.

“Article?”

His father frowned, looking at Quinlin. “The one about the child prodigy in San Diego. Led me right to Sophie.” Fitz had read it--or most of it. A few of the words seemed like gibberish and he didn’t have an English to Enlightened dictionary, nor the care to try to understand them.

Quinlin shifted, turning to look at Alden head on. “I didn’t send you any articles. Did it have a note from me?”

“No…but you were the only one who knew what I was up to.”

Aside from Fitz. And Alvar, who’d done Fitz’s job--probably worse than him--before him. And his mom and sister--they may not have known the specifics, but they definitely knew something was up.

“Not the only one,” Quinlin said quietly, but it didn’t seem like he was referring to the same people Fitz had been thinking about.

Sophie started shifting, looking between his dad and his former cognate and the projected fires--and he just knew she was about to ruin the forgot-they-weren’t-alone-so-they-talked-freely situation they had going.

But as he frantically shook his head and gestured for her to keep her mouth shut, she paid him no more than a glance. “What’s going on? What sign? What’s wrong with the fires? Should I warn my family to get out of there?”

And just as he’d been trying to prevent, his dad straightened and that professional mask slid over his face. He turned with an amicable smile, and told her, “There’s no reason to worry, Sophie. I know this all seems very strange to you, but I assure you we have everything under control.”

Quinlin had straightened too, though he looked away when Fitz raised a brow at him.

They weren’t getting any more out of them--why couldn’t Sophie keep it shut with the questions just once when it mattered?

He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a quiet breath. Humans…fires…Sophie. He turned to study the images on the walls. What sign did Quinlin think he saw? The shape of the blaze curved unevenly, wrapping around flora and skirting into the city, but it just looked like a fire.

“Sorry,” Sophie was saying. “It’s just been a weird day. Between the guy trying to grab me this morning and--”

“What? Was he…” Quinlin looked at his dad.

“An elf? I doubt it.”

“How can you be sure?”

Fitz paused, turning from the images. Kidnapping was a human crime. His dad had dismissed Sophie’s fears the moment he’d heard them. Why wasn’t Quinlin? He thought of hushed voices, scrolls he wasn’t supposed to look at, obscurers tucked into his pocket, girl after girl after girl.

“Why didn’t he take you?” his dad asked.

Sophie’s face twisted. She shifted, shrinking in on herself. “My neighbor threatened to call the police.”

His dad’s voice had a tenor to it, a finality, like he was convincing himself. “See? They never would have backed down so easily.”

They?

Sophie echoed the question aloud, and he repressed a sigh as, for the second time, his father’s mask slid into place and Quinlin looked off into the distance. “I meant an elf--any elf. You’ve seen how quickly we can light leap. If one of us were really there to get you, no human threatening to call the authorities would stop them. They would’ve just grabbed you and leaped away.”

Sophie swallowed the explanation without issue, but she didn’t know better. Fitz did.

And his father was lying through his teeth.

“But what about the fires? Why are they white?”

He shrugged, giving some answer about chemicals and human stupidity. Which would’ve been half-way believable if Quinlin wasn’t watching his father so carefully, the birds-eye shots of the fires still flickering around them. And if Fitz hadn’t spent his entire life watching him from afar, wondering.

“The Council’s official position is to leave humans to their own devices. That’s another reason Quinlin works down here: The Council rarely takes the time to visit and find out what we’re up to,” his father finished. They’d probably find the time after this, though…

Quinlin made a moue. “Bronte has his babysitter sitting outside my office all day, taking notes though. He could’ve at least picked someone who’s a decent receptionist.”

“At least she’s equally bad at spying,” his dad grinned--after he’d taken an exasperated second to roll his eyes. “You should’ve seen Bronte’s face when he learned about Sophie. I thought steam might come out of his ears.”

Sophie looked between the two, her brow furrowed. She’d crossed her arms over her chest, one hand picking idly at the jewels on her bodice.

“Keeping that secret for twelve years has to be a record.” Quinlin’s expression matched his dad’s.

Sophie’s brow furrowed further. “Why didn’t the Council know you were looking for me?”

His father turned to her, smile smoothing into something less frenetic. “Bronte had specifically ordered us to ignore the evidence we found of your existence. He thought the DNA we discovered was a hoax and that my search was a waste of time. That’s why he was so hard on you today. He doesn’t like being wrong. And he really doesn’t like knowing that I’ve been working behind his back. So can I trust you to keep this quiet?”

He looked between the two of them expectantly.

Fitz nodded, more out of reflex than anything. But Sophie, of course, frowned. “Do you promise to keep me updated on the fires?”

“I will,” he said, “if there’s anything important. Agreed?”

Fitz’s lips twitched towards a frown. He doubted his father would consider anything important enough to share. But Sophie nodded.

His dad turned to Quinlin. “Send me everything you have on the fires. I need to get Sophie back home.”

Quinlin bowed ever so slightly. “The information will be waiting for you.”

“Thank you. Good to see you, my friend,” he replied with an incline of his head. He put a hand on both Fitz and Sophie’s back, lightly but solidly pushing them towards the exit and down the stairs.

Fitz took one last look at the fires as their projections faded from view, hoping to make sense of it. He didn’t, but he did see Quinlin’s face twist into--something. Just a flash before he turned and was gone.

Sophie nearly tripped twice on their descent, fighting her attire at every turn--badly enough she didn’t even ask any questions. His father didn’t seem to notice, already looking to hail another carriage as they emerged onto the street. They climbed in in silence.

Fitz looked between the two of them--he wouldn’t get more out of his father, and Sophie’s eyes were distant, her mouth all pinched and her arms crossed tight over herself. She didn’t even seem to care the eurypterid was right behind her.

He’d have to work with the pieces he had.

Sophie was an elf, but she’d lived with humans and didn’t know it. His dad and Quinlin had known. They’d found out from Prentice--who had a kid a few years older than him, but they’d never really crossed paths. But they hadn’t known where she was, so Fitz (and Alvar, but mostly Fitz) had spent years trying to find her.

Someone had sent his dad a newspaper with Sophie’s photo circled, and it hadn’t been Quinlin. Which meant someone else had known where Sophie was and that his dad had been looking. Could that have anything to do with the person who’d tried to grab Sophie that morning? But why send them to her and then try and take her--if that was even what they were trying to do. Fitz still wasn’t sure, especially since Quinlin thought it was possible they’d been an elf.

And the fires. They burned strangely, and Quinlin thought he saw a sign in them, but they were fires. How could someone make a sign out of fires? Pyrokinesis was forbidden, and even if it wasn’t, why in a human city?

Fitz wasn’t any closer to putting the pieces together when they arrived at the sand dunes. In fact, he knew even less now that he had this morning.

“Hold on tight,” his father said, like he always did. Fitz took his hand absently, still ruminating.

Until they lifted off the ground, and Sophie shrieked.

The sound startled through his muddled musings and he turned. Her fingers clutched at his fathers arm hard enough to bruise, and her feet kicked wildly at the air, making all three of them wiggle. The laughter broke out before he could think to stop it, pressing a hand to his mouth and clearing his throat.

“Do I want to know what we’re doing?” she asked, trying to sound calm. She utterly failed.

“You’ll see,” Fitz told her, biting his lip to hide a grin.

His father took them through the ring, the film bulging and distorting around them until it snapped into a firm bubble. He held Sophie steady as the material shifted under their feet, and she reached out to trace her free hand along the inside. The solution coated her fingers and she rubbed them together like he had as a kid before wiping her hand off on her gown.

She stared down as they reached the geyser, the rumble low and familiar. It shot them up and out of the city, plunging them into the absolute darkness of the ocean floor. Fitz tightened his grip on his dad.

But eventually, the black began to ease, and he could make out the vague shape of their bodies again. He let go. And then he could distinguish colors and details, and then he was squinting as they burst into the air with a splash.

Clouds meandered past, a flock of birds squawking somewhere nearby. Sophie sounded a little breathless when she asked, “Don’t elves ever do anything the normal way?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” his dad grinned, turning slightly towards him and giving a look to his sleeve.

Fitz took out his father’s pathfinder again. He set it to Everglen before reaching for Sophie, who still held onto his dad. “Ready to go home?”

He dug his heel into the bubble just so, popping it before she could reply--though she’d gotten started on a solid scream. He wrapped half his concentration around her, his dad definitely doing the same--and probably shielding Fitz, too, even though he didn’t need the help.

They glittered into place outside Everglen’s gate and Sophie finished her scream, then pretended it hadn’t happened.

She blinked furiously against the light. “I thought you meant my home.” Fitz had, but his father shook his head, so he didn’t correct her. “So what am I supposed to--”

Fitz hadn’t known it was possible to light leap violently, but the flash of a figure glittering into place a few paces away had him covering his eyes.

He was upon them before Fitz could process. “You’ve got some nerve summoning me,” Tiergan spat. He got right up in his dad’s face, lips twisted and furious. “I’d sooner be exiled than train anyone in your family.”

Fitz knew that very well. He clenched his hands tight, nails digging into palms. He was the only one in their family who needed telepathy training--anyone meant him.

His father took it in stride. “Yes, Tiergan--I’m well aware of your opinion of me. I can assure you, I wouldn’t have summoned you if I wasn’t convinced that it would be what Prentice would want.”

Tiergan jerked back, face distorting. “Since when are you the expert on anything Prentice wanted?”

“Who’s Prentice?”

Tiergan startled, whirling towards Sophie. He cycled through so many expressions Fitz doubted even Keefe could make sense of it all, ending with wide eyes and a sudden gasp. The two stared at each other.

“Yes. Whatever you’re thinking, yes. Tiergan,” his father said, gesturing towards the entirety of her. “I’d like you to meet Sophie Foster. Foxfire’s newest prodigy, who happens to need a telepathy Mentor.”

It was Fitz’s turn to start. What? Tiergan was retired, and not even the highest scoring Telepath in decades had been able to convince him to come back.

A long moment passed. “She’s the one, isn’t she? The one Prentice was hiding.” His voice was distant, almost like a recitation.

“Yes. She’s been living with humans for the past twelve years.”

Sophie’d had enough--she’d actually lasted longer than he’d expected. She cut in. “Okay, seriously. Who is Prentice, and what does he have to do with me?”

“I’m sorry, that’s classified information, Sophie.”

“But it’s about me,” she protested. She turned towards him, but Fitz didn’t know much more than she did--and his dad was especially cagey about her. If he said it was classified, that was that. He could only offer a helpless shrug.

“If it becomes important for you to know, I will tell you. For now, all anyone needs to know is that you are the most incredible Telepath I’ve ever seen, and you need a Mentor. Which is why I summoned you.” He turned back to Tiergan. “Sophie has already broken through Fitz’s and Bronte’s blocking without training. She needs the best Mentor we can provide. I know you’re retired, but I thought--given the circumstances--you might be persuaded to return to Foxfire.”

Fitz had to look away for a moment, his jaw flexing. They’d said that about him, once.

“You’ll do it?” his father said--not a question, but relief. His head snapped back up.

It wasn’t fair.

“Yes, but only for this year. That'll be more than enough to hone her abilities.” Tiergan looked Sophie up and down at that. “Then you leave me alone and never ask for my assistance again.”

“That’s more than reasonable.”

Sophie, apparently, didn’t like reasonable. “Wait. Do I get any say in this?”

Fitz’s brows furrowed. What else was there to say? His father turned. “What do you mean?”

Sophie took a breath. “I’m not sure I want to get better at telepathy.”

“Are you crazy?” he burst in, something white hot and aching in his throat. “Do you have any idea what an opportunity this is--”

Tiergan cut him off, and Fitz turned abruptly, running a hand through his hair. Tiergan had said yes--Tiergan Alenefar! He’d rather be exiled than train Fitz. And she wanted to say no.

He’d leaned in closer to Sophie, his voice softer than Fitz’d ever heard it. “Being a Telepath around humans is quite a burden. I’ll bet you’ve had terrible headaches and heard all kinds of things you didn’t want to hear. Right?”

Sophie nodded, and Fitz couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Yeah, humans were loud, and constant blocking wasn’t pleasant--but there weren’t any humans in the Lost Cities! It was a stupid, moot point.

In his stewing, he missed what Tiergan said next, only catching a mumbled “irresponsible.” He continued. “It doesn’t have to be that way. With proper training you’ll learn to manage your ability. But you do have a choice. There should always be a choice. If you don’t want telepathy training, you don’t have to have it.”

Fitz mostly tuned him out, studying Sophie’s face instead. She’d shrunk in on herself, lips pressed tightly together, eyes stuck to Tiergan’s face.

C’mon, Sophie. Don’t you DARE throw this away.

“I guess I can give it a try.”

He scoffed under his breath. “You guess.”

At least, he’d thought it’d been under his breath. Tiergan had clearly heard and glared at him. Fitz’s cheeks burned and he looked away. He’d never done anything to him.

His dad stepped into the excruciating silence that fell before it could ignite. “Well, that settles that, then. I’ll notify Dame Alina that you’ll be returning to Foxfire. But the name of your prodigy will be kept classified. The Council doesn’t want anyone knowing Sophie’s a Telepath until she’s older.”

They didn’t? Fitz glanced at Tiergan, but his face was impassive. He stood distanced, just watching.

“Why do I have to hide it?” Sophie asked, voice small.

“You won’t have to hide it forever. Just for a little while, to give everyone time to adjust to you. In the meantime, the session will be listed as remedial studies on your schedule.”

That seemed dumb--Sophie was going to be a shock no matter what they did, so they might as well get it all over with at once.

Bronte’s voice echoed in his head then. Sounds like Alden’s golden boy isn’t as infallible as everyone thinks.

He wouldn’t be the only one to say it.

With more time, Fitz knew he could figure her brain out. He was the strongest Telepath in generations--he’d figure out how to get past her blocking. How to block her. And then no one could say anything.

His father’s voice drew him back. “I know this is all very confusing, Sophie, but I will do my best to explain everything when we get inside, okay? Good,” he said when she nodded, then turned to Tiergan, who still hadn’t said another word or looked at anyone but Sophie. “I’m assuming you don’t want to come in?”

“Finally, a correct assumption. I’ll see you Tuesday,” he told Sophie. Dismissed, he glittered away.

“Well, that went better than expected,” his father said with a laugh. He stepped up to the gates, licking the access panel. Then took Sophie’s hand to lead them inside. “Come on, Sophie. Let’s see if I can’t answer some of those questions I’m sure are floating around in your head.”

Fitz trailed after, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath to calm the heat lingering in his cheeks.

“Your telepathy session with Tiergan will be one of eight classes you take at Foxfire--the others will be sessions on physical education, history, and the like. Each day you’ll have one class in the morning and one in the afternoon,” his dad was saying when Fitz caught up. “Plus time for lunch and a daily study hall following your afternoon session where you can complete any homework you’re assigned.”

Unless you were always missing it and other classes, but otherwise true.

Sophie had her eyes on the ground, her skirt held in one hand as she carefully watched where she placed her feet. “Are there a lot of students in the cla--sessions?”

He shook his head. “No, sessions are one-on-one between Mentors and prodigies--Mentors are a subsection of our nobility who teach the sessions, and prodigy is our word for student.”

She’d been in a group of at least twenty when Fitz’d found her; he couldn’t imagine trying to get anything done with so many people around him--it was hard enough to concentrate in study hall with just Keefe being Keefe.

“I know it seems daunting, and you’ll likely have some catch-up work to do, since the year’s already started. But it won’t be anything you can’t handle, and if you need help--with anything at all--all you have to do is ask.”

Sophie nodded again, her face pinched. But she didn’t say anything else as they approached the front door. Then she paused. “What am I supposed to tell my family? They’re not going to let me disappear every day with no explanation.”

His dad propped open the door and Fitz slipped past. That was one conversation he would gladly hand off to someone else any day of the week. She’d resisted hard enough this morning thinking it was just a test--he could’ve done it though. If he wanted to.

His fathers voice was quieter, pained. “About that, Sophie. You and I need to have a talk. My office is this way.” He led the both of them through the foyer into the house beyond. “We can talk there. There is much to dis--”

“Telling me now isn’t a heads-up!” Biana snapped as they crested the threshold to the sitting room. She stood with her arms rigid at her side, her hands curled into fists, glaring at the absence of their mother.

“You’re home.” His mom blinked into existence, which he wouldn’t have bothered to notice if it weren’t for the loud squeak Sophie made, jerking back a little and staring. He let out a small laugh. Biana glared at him; he rolled his eyes.

His father had a laugh to his tone. “Sophie, this is my wife, Della. And my daughter, Biana. My dear, I don’t believe our guest is used to being around Vanishers.” Biana wrinkled her nose openly when he said ‘guest.’

His mom turned, smiling. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Which was excessive. Sophie’d already jumped into a whirlpool. She could handle a Vanisher.

Sophie mumbled a response, holding herself awkwardly, her cheeks bright.

“Is that my dress?” Biana cut in, like it would be anyone else's.

His dad cut in right back with a meaningful look. “Yes. Sophie needed to borrow it to go on a few errands.”

“I can go change,” Sophie offered.

Biana crossed her arms, turning away. “No, that’s fine. You can keep it. It’s kind of frumpy.”

“Oh…thanks.”

A terse second passed; they all knew Biana was being rude on purpose. But his mom smoothed over her frown with a smile and turned to his dad, which only seemed to upset Biana further. “Quinlin sent the files you requested. I put them in your office.” Then her voice quieted, tinged sad. “And the Council denied our request. But they did approve Grady and Edaline.”

What? But if Sophie wasn’t here--

His dad blew out a long breath, running a hand slow through his hair. “In that case, I’d better make a call. Then we’ll have a long talk, okay?”

He disappeared down the hall to his office. The sudden tension in Fitz’s shoulders eased ever so slightly. His dad would convince them to change their minds--he had to.

“The Council sent these for you,” his mom said into the silence that had fallen, crossing the room to press two wrapped packages into Sophie’s hands.

Sophie jolted when she moved and didn’t seem to fully register the parcels, accepting them mutely. She stared openly.

It took Fitz a moment, but then he realized. “She doesn’t realize she does it. Vanishers let light pass through their bodies, so they can turn invisible, even when they move.”

Biana let out a small scoff, low enough he didn’t think anyone else heard.

Sophie didn’t respond, but her eyes went from wide to slightly-less-wide, and she obeyed when his mom asked her to hold up her hair.

She took Sophie’s registry pendant from the first parcel and fastened it on. “This,” she said, interlocking the clasps, “is your registry pendant. We all have to wear them to keep track of us, just in case anything were ever to happen--especially since there’s so few of us compared to humans.”

Or, if the Council wanted to watch you--it was the whole reason his dad had needed him in the first place. He glanced towards the office, wishing he could listen in.

His mom stepped back to admire her handiwork and nodded. Then handed Sophie her treasury cube. “Anytime you need to pay for anything, just give them that. Your birth fund’s been activated.”

Sophie’s head snapped up at that. “I have money?”

“The standard five million.”

“Dollars?”

Her face contorted into something between awe and horror, and Fitz laughed. “Lusters. One luster is probably worth a million dollars.”

Biana cut in. “What’s a dollar?”

“Human money.” At least, one form of it.

“Ew.”

His mom re-commandeered the conversation, this time giving Biana a pointed look as she swept them past her barbs. Biana scowled, glancing down the hallway. “We do things differently around here. Money is something we have, not something we need. No one ever has to go without.”

Fitz also glanced down the hallway, to where his father still hadn’t reappeared. That…couldn’t be a good sign.

“But…why does anyone work then,” Sophie asked, frowning, “if they already have money?”

“What else would we do with our time?”

“I don’t know. Something fun?”

“Work is fun. Remember--we’re not limited to seventy or eighty years. Once you get used to that idea, I think you’ll find our way makes much more sense.”

“Maybe,” Sophie hedged, clearly unconvinced.

It was then his father reappeared, face carefully blank as he swept into the room. “All set?”

His mom nodded. “Were you able to change their minds?”

Fitz held his breath, though he already knew the answer from that mask. Bronte’s mocking face lingered in the back of his mind. After an imperceptible eternity, his dad shook his head, and something Fitz couldn’t identify flashed through his core. His shoulders sagged, his mind already racing.

“What’s going on?” Sophie asked, her voice tight.

“Come on, Sophie,” his father sighed. “Let’s go have that talk.”

The two disappeared back down the hall, into that office, leaving the rest of them lingering.

Grady and Edaline? Half of what Fitz knew of them was rumors, and the other half what he’d managed to glean from mournful looks between his parents. He knew his dad and Grady had been good friends and worked together--but he was never around. He knew they were the reason they didn’t have any candles in the house.

He knew their daughter was dead.

And, now, that Sophie would be living with them.

That was going to make it so much harder to figure everything out--who she was, why his dad had been looking, why her mind was so quiet. So it was a good thing she’d be at Foxfire--they’d be in different levels, but it was better than nothing.

His mother clapped, startling him and Biana both. “Well, what’s done is done. It’s been a very eventful day--why don’t you both go take a moment before dinner? Or you could help me set it up, if you’d like.”

Fitz was closer, so she pulled him in gently by the shoulder to kiss his forehead with a smile. She moved towards Biana next, but she’d already started off down the other hall towards their rooms. His mom sighed, but ushered him after her without saying anything.

He’d only gotten a little ways down the hall before, “Fitz! Come here--immediately, please.”

Everyone paused, his father’s call echoing through the crystal of the halls. Ahead of him, Biana whirled around to glare, but he’d already readjusted course and hurried down an adjacent corridor.

His dad’s head poked out of the office, waiting for him. Before Fitz could even ask, he launched into a brief. “Fitz, I need you to take Sophie back to her house for a quick farewell--the Council has forbidden it, but she needs closure. We have about twenty minutes--Fitz?”

His attention had shifted to Sophie curled in the chair, but he snapped back. “Yes. Got it.”

“Good. Go change--quickly, son.” He gestured him on, and Fitz hurried back the way he’d come. He grabbed the first human things he could find in his closet--his clothes from earlier--and threw them on.

Maybe this would be the last time he had to wear them, but he didn’t want to jinx it.

Sophie’s hand shook in his as they glittered onto the front lawn. She stared at the front door, her face all screwed up.

“Okay,” he said to try and break the trance. “You have about fifteen minutes to do…whatever it is you need to. But one more thing.”

She started, turning towards him when he tapped the disk of gas he pressed into her hands. Her voice didn’t seem to be working yet--she hadn’t said a single word back in the office.

“Were you actually listening when my dad explained how to use this?”

And didn’t seem to have heard a single one either by the way she eyed it without recognition. “...No.”

“Okay, this is important, so please try to listen this time?” He waited until she nodded. “If you can’t get away, put your fingers on these points and twist. It’ll release a potent airborne sedative--it’ll work quick, so make sure you hold your breath for at least thirty seconds. I’ll be waiting out here for you, okay?”

She’d recoiled from the disc, but at least didn’t try to give it back. After a long moment they didn’t have, Sophie took a breath. “Okay.”

She repeated it to herself softly, letting go of his hand and crossing the lawn to the front door after he’d checked no one was watching. The air shimmered as she passed out of range of the obscurer. Fitz slipped around the side out of sight of the windows and waited.

“Where have you been!” a panicked voice shouted, and then the door closed and he couldn’t hear anything. Just a faint rustle of leaves and a vocal dog across the street.

He took a moment to readjust the pathfinder. The air still stunk of sickly sweet smoke, and he coughed into his elbow. He eyed the street--around the corner someone approached with a dog on a leash, and lights were on in almost every home. A car passed through the neighborhood, and he winced.

This was a terrible idea--the Council was already upset enough.

He held still as the dog and its person passed by, then glanced at the house. Voices carried through the walls, but not enough he could make out what they said.

They’d been perfectly fine back at home. Almost everything settled.

He tapped a foot against the ground, checking the time. Five minutes.

The voices faded.

Sophie didn’t come out.

Two minutes.

Nothing. One.

Cursing, Fitz pushed off the side of the house, hurrying up the front steps. He paused just long enough outside the door to scan for thoughts--none. The doorknob turned easily, and he slipped inside.

Sophie sat on the floor. Curled in on herself, shaking. Her face buried in her hands, tears dripping from her palms.

She faced a couch with the three prone bodies limp on the cushions. The man had folded forward, half-spilled onto the floor. The woman’s eyes hadn’t fully closed, instead rolling back in her head to leave the whites exposed. The small girl had face planted into the couch’s arm, her own bunched beneath her.

Fitz flinched.

He looked away and sank down next to Sophie, gently pulling her hands from her face. She clung to him, his jacket, the grip almost involuntary. Her breath came quicker, sobs wracking her chest, and his own heart pounded.

Helpless, he held her, a hand on her back and a hand cradling her head.

“It’s okay, Sophie. It’s going to be okay.” His voice sounded hollow to his own ears, but he couldn’t think--what else was there to say? He hadn’t thought--

“I drugged my family.” He nearly couldn’t understand her through the tears.

What would Dad say? “You did the right thing.” Right?

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

He looked back at their bodies, swallowing. It was hard to believe his own words--this had been her family. An image of his parents, of Biana limp and still flashed through his mind.

“Look, Sophie,” he started, something burning in his chest. He held her tighter. “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?”

A question--that was good. “Telepaths trained to erase memories. I’m sure the Council has sent them by now.” And his dad had to be waiting.

Sophie tensed, pulling back stiffly. She wiped at her face ineffectively. Fitz didn’t have any handkerchiefs on him--he hadn’t realized--hadn’t thought-- “Just give me a second.”

They didn’t have a second, but he just said, “I’ll go get your bags. Are they upstairs?”

She shook her head, pointing to a small, battered backpack he hadn’t even noticed. “This is all I’m taking.”

“That’s all?” Biana packed more for an overnight. He packed more for an overnight.

Sophie’s voice was small. “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.”

She shook her head. “No, there’s nothing--.” Her eyes went wide, her arms hugging to her chest. “Ella. I haven’t slept without her since I was five. I thought I should leave her behind, but--”

She cut herself off, squeezing tighter. If she curled in on herself any more, she might disappear. He couldn’t watch her disappear.

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs, on my bed. She’s the bright blue elephant wearing a Hawaiian shirt.”

He was already moving. “I’ll be right back.”

Fitz took the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping when a cat appeared at the top. He maneuvered over it, steadying himself with the wall as he pushed open the first door he saw--a tiny bathroom. The next, a bedroom, but too beige to be Sophie’s.

The third door seemed right. The walls a light blue, the clutter of books with cracked spines. It was so small. It was her entire life, everything she’d ever known.

An assortment of stuffed animals had been carefully ordered on the bed, a bright blue elephant proudly in the middle. She wore a loud shirt that must’ve been Hawaiian.

He pulled her free, the fabric of her arm soft, well-worn.

Sophie sat exactly where he’d left her, her eyes shut tight until he placed a hand gently on her shoulder. Then, she looked up, grasping tight to Ella as he placed her in her arms.

Immediately, she let out a breath, her face relaxing, and he could breathe again. Her voice sounded steady when she said. “I’m ready to go.”

He didn’t ask if she was sure, though he suddenly, desperately wanted to. The Washers had to be minutes out, if that.

He held out a hand, and she held tight, hoisting her solitary bag onto her shoulder. He guided her to her feet, angling himself between her and the bodies of her family as he led her to the door. She kept her eyes forward, her grip almost painful in his; he refused to let go.

She had his old nexus, but he still wrapped half his concentration around her as he lifted the pathfinder to the fading light.

They reappeared in the glow of Everglen’s gates, his parents pacing just inside them. They’d already swung the gates open wide by the time his eyes adjusted, his mother pulling Sophie to her chest in a suffocating embrace.

Fitz handed the pathfinder back. “No one saw us.” It was little comfort.

“Thank you, Fitz.” His dad turned. “My dear, you might want to let her breathe.”

His mom let her go, but Sophie just sort of…swayed where she’d stood. She gripped Ella as tight as his mom had gripped her.

“Are you okay?” His dad’s voice was quiet, and there were lines through his hair where he must’ve run his hands through it.

“No.”

His dad nodded like he’d expected nothing less. Fitz looked away. “It gets easier from here.”

He couldn’t shake the image of Sophie on the ground.

“I hope so. What happens now?” she asked, not really looking at any of them, and Fitz had no idea.

“Della and I are going to personally oversee your family’s relocation. Fitz can help you get settled in here while we’re gone.” His hand came down gentle on Fitz’s shoulder, a slight, reassuring squeeze.

Sophie perked up. “Here? I’ll be living here?”

He felt rather than saw his dad’s wince, but it was his mom who spoke. “Oh, Sophie, we would love that--we even offered. But the Council wanted you placed with other guardians.”

“I selected them personally. They’re good friends of ours. You’re going to like them,” his father promised.

“Okay.” Her face fell flat. She said nothing else.

His dad gave his shoulder another squeeze before dropping it. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. Right now we have to get going. Fitz, Elwin’s waiting to see Sophie.”

He nodded mutely and moved towards her side, anxiously watching. His mom pulled her in tight one more time before taking his father’s hand, and Fitz reached for Sophie’s.

“Where are you moving my family to?” Sophie blurted, her face all scrunched.

“I’m sorry, Sophie.” His father shook his head, pressing his lips together regretfully. “ I can’t tell you that.”

A moment of silence. “You’re afraid I’ll try to see them.”

He smiled sadly. “The temptation might be hard to resist.”

Sophie trembled, swallowing visibly. Her eyes shone, and it wasn’t from the gate’s light.

“Why don’t you take Sophie inside, Fitz?” his father said into the thick silence. “Elwin’s waiting for her in the conservatory.”

Fitz nodded, voice still missing, and tugged lightly on her hand. She ignored it, turning back. “My family always wanted a house with a big backyard,” she told his father, “so they could get a dog.”

“That can be arranged.”

“We’ll take good care of them,” his mother promised. “They’ll have money, security, everything they could ever want, well, except…” She looked away, blinking hard.

Sophie leaned towards them almost unconsciously, the beginning of a question on her tongue. But she stopped. He doubted his parents had even noticed, and he desperately wanted to know what she would’ve said.

Maybe he could guess. He knew what he would’ve asked.

Why?

Why was she with humans? Why couldn’t he read her mind? Why wouldn’t the Council let her stay? Why any of this?

But Sophie silently turned back towards him, her eyes vacant. He took that as his cue, and this time she didn’t resist as he pulled her through the gates. His dad closed them behind them, and his parents vanished silently into the night.

Night air brushed through the foliage, the only accompaniment to their footsteps on the pavement. That, and the occasional small sniffle from Sophie.

Inside was equally quiet, until Sophie finally spoke. “Who’s Elwin?”

The sound was almost jarring, as was the relief. “He’s a physician,” Fitz explained. “He’s going to do a quick physical on you.” At least he assumed. His dad hadn’t actually said, but he couldn’t imagine what else it would be.

Without warning, Sophie stopped dead.

He turned, scanning the hall, but it was still just them. She’d gone white as a yeti. “What’s wrong?”

“I hate doctors.”

He cocked his head. Doctors? Of all the things. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Sophie, instead of listening to him, was doing a truly impressive impersonation of a statue. He tightened his grip, pulling--and then he had to pull some real force into it when she countered with all her body weight. It was so absurd, them wrestling like kids in the hall over a doctor, he couldn’t help a small laugh of incredulity.

“What are you doing?” Biana asked, appearing from nowhere. It startled Sophie enough he could get her a few steps forward.

“Nothing.” Sophie still had tear tracks down her cheeks. She didn’t need Biana meddling, and his parents weren’t there to tell her off. He channeled a little strength into his legs and leaned, managing to gain a little more ground.

Biana, of course, did not give up. “Where were you? I asked Dad, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

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

“Will you tell me later?” she pressed, heedless of the circumstances.

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

“I can see that.” She glared at Sophie, who flinched away, but he was not letting her go.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned. Knowing her, she’d run off into the gardens, get lost, trip, and break her ankle or something equally stupid, and then he’d have to carry her back and explain to Elwin and his dad how he’d managed to mess up something as simple as escorting her to the conservatory. “I’m taking you to Elwin, and you’re going to see it’s no big deal.”

As annoying as Biana was, it seemed less his insistence and more her disdain for anything and everyone around her that got Sophie moving. He wouldn’t tell Biana that, though.

Sophie still hesitated at the doorway, so he stood right behind her. Just in case she was planning a last minute escape. “I’ll take your stuff to your room.” He lowered his voice, in case Biana was trying to eavesdrop, which she definitely was. “Why don’t you hang on to Ella? Maybe she’ll help.”

She squeezed the elephant tighter, then handed over her bag with a mumbled thanks. He slung it over his shoulder. She didn’t move.

Fitz frowned, glancing between her, the doorway, and Biana glaring down the hall. She’d crossed her arms and looked away when their eyes met. An idea struck, and he leaned in. “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?”

Sophie nodded, reluctantly letting him prod her inside, and the door clicked softly shut behind her. He’d used the trick on Biana more than once as kids--not that he’d tell her she’d given him the inspiration.

“Seriously, what was that about?” Biana asked, and he sighed.

He started towards the guest room, adjusting the strap. “Why do you even care?”

“Ugh, forget it.” She stomped off.

And he was, suddenly, alone.

He kept moving, his footsteps his only company and not enough to distract him from his thoughts. The guest room door opened silently, and he deposited her backpack on the end of the bed. A single, worn purple bag. The expanse of the covers seemed to swallow it.

Fitz hadn’t even noticed it on the floor.

She’d curled up so small.

His jacket shoulder was still damp from her tears.

And he’d been outside, annoyed at having to come back.

He forced himself to look away, to step out of the room and start back down the hall. What could you even fit in a bag that small?

He stopped outside the conservatory, leaned against a wall. Three limp bodies lingered in his mind, their faces flashing. One moment some human he’d never meet, the next his dad. His mom. Biana.

He tried to imagine it. Twisting the disk of sleeping gas, leaving them all to forget him. His mind refused, recoiling from the thought.

Then, the door opened, and he straightened. Shook his head to clear it and smiled like his dad as Sophie sheepishly inched out into the hall. He still had a job to do.

Stay near Sophie; she’ll need a familiar face.

He gestured with his head for her to follow, and, for once, she didn’t resist. “So, you gonna punch me?”

She flushed, lowering her face so it was partially hidden by Ella. “I guess not.”

He grinned. “What’s with the ‘doctor phobia’ thing? You were more afraid of Elwin than you were of jumping into the whirlpool.”

It faded when she said, “I guess you’ve never had anyone stick a needle in your arm or strap you to a bunch of machines.” He almost missed a step, shuddering. Is that what humans did? For medicine? No wonder they’d been kicked from the treaties.

“You’re right about that. Why did they do that to you?”

Sophie shrugged, almost hitting a decorative table when they turned a corner. “The shots were because I had an allergic reaction a couple years ago. The machines were because I hit my head when I was five.” She rubbed at her arm.

He didn’t know what an allergic reaction was, so he skipped past it to the head injury. He could probably guess, but he still asked, “How’d you do that?”

“I guess I passed out and hit my head on the concrete--I don’t remember. All I know is I woke up in the hospital and my parents were freaking out, saying my neighbor had called nine-one-one and that I’d been unconscious for hours.” She grimaced at the memory.

Something about the story bugged him. Then it clicked. “That happened when you were five? Was that before or after your telepathy started?” he added when she nodded.

“The same time. I started reading minds in the hospital,” she explained, which had to be one of the worst places to manifest. “I always thought something happened to my brain when I fell, but I guess it was my elf genes kicking in.”

That wasn’t possible. No one manifested at five, let alone Telepaths. He hadn’t manifested until he was thirteen, and he was the youngest Telepath in all of elven history--or at least, he had been. He’d never heard of anyone younger than ten for any ability, and that was already extremely young.

“What?” Sophie asked, and he realized he’d gone quiet.

He tried to be gentle with it. “It’s just…telepathy doesn’t kick in at that age. Something would have to trigger it.” And head injuries didn’t trigger anything but headaches.

“Trigger it how?”

He shook his head, hating his next words. “I have no idea. Not many things trigger a special ability--and none of them exist in the Forbidden Cities. My dad will have to look into it.” They’d reached the guest room before he could ask anything else, and he gestured inside. “This is you. If you need anything, my room’s just down the hall.”

His parents likely wouldn’t be back for a while--maybe not even until the next morning. Right now, he was all she had.

Sophie met his eye with a small smile, but quickly looked away. “Thanks for your help today. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through all this without you.”

He stilled. Three faces flashed through his mind, limp. A fourth curled up on the floor. He tried to speak. Couldn’t. Tried again, clearing his throat. “I don’t deserve your thanks.”

She frowned, looking back at him, but he couldn’t meet her eye. “Why?”

He kicked at the ground, forcing the words out. “Because--I knew what was going to happen and I didn’t tell you when I made you come with me. I never realized it would be hard for you to move here--not until I found you there on the floor. I feel like I ruined your life.”

An entire life he knew nothing about--he’d just been worried about getting her to cooperate. She’d had a family he didn’t know, books he’d never heard of, classes she couldn’t skip.

Not anymore.

“Fitz,” she said, squeezing Ella tighter. He waited for--he wasn’t sure what. Disgust? Anger? “Today was hard. But you were right about what you said yesterday. This is where I belong.”

“Really?” The word was out before he’d thought to say it, half surprised, half wanting to hear it again.

Sophie delivered. “Really. Don’t worry about me. I’m going to be okay.”

Fitz let out a breath, tension draining from his shoulders. He grinned, and this time he meant it.

He bid her goodnight, leaving her to unpack and process alone.

He’d told Sophie he’d be in his room, so that’s where he went. He didn’t cross paths with Biana on the way, which was a small relief--and who knew when his dad would be back, so he couldn’t tell him about Sophie’s weird head injury yet.

That left…not much. His rooms were quiet, and he snapped his bedside lamps on to a muted glow. He took a breath.

Now that he was alone again, everything finally sorted, the past two days began catching up with him. Adrenaline faded to exhaustion, giddy disbelief to the vast uncertainty of what now? He still had so many questions.

First things first. He stripped off his human attire with finality. He grabbed his favorite pajama set--he had multiple pairs, one for each night of the week--and made for the shower.

He’d intended to prepare for the week--it was the weekend, but he’d missed more than usual this past week. And he still had that paper to finish. It’d been due today, but he hadn’t gone to class at all, so now it’d be late. And no doubt he’d return to another of Keefe’s stupid rumors.

But the warm water lulled him, taking advantage of his creeping exhaustion. By the time he made it back to his bed, his eyelids were half-closed.

Fitz slipped into a dreamless sleep, limbs heavy, thinking of the girl down the hall.

His parents hadn’t returned by breakfast the next morning. Fitz kept an anxious eye on the guest room, but the hallway remained empty and Sophie’s door resolutely shut.

It gave him time to do his preparations for the week, which he begrudgingly admitted was a good thing, even if it seemed trivial in the face of everything else. He wouldn’t know what he’d missed until the week started, so he didn’t know what to make up. Best he could do for now was finally get started on that essay.

Fitz stationed himself in the living room, right by the hall and clearly visible. The sound of his pencil on paper accompanied only by the birds flitting about outside as he outlined. Then, he needed a few reference materials.

He glanced at the hallway, still empty, and stood. He’d be quick, but he still shifted his papers to a more obvious place, and rearranged the pillows to make it clear he’d been sitting there--just in case Sophie wandered out in the meantime.

Fitz made his way to the house’s main library, the door thudding solidly behind him. He trailed his fingers over spines as he passed them--advanced dwarven poetry, the art of interspeciesial diplomacy, a dictionary of the goblin tongue. More niche material than most households were allowed to have, but he knew the real rare works were kept somewhere else--out of sight.

He took a few minutes to find a few tomes that could be useful, and was about to leave when another title caught his eye--a boxed set on the basic histories of each intelligent species.

There wasn’t a volume for humans, of course--but there had to be something on them in the house. Something that said more than the basic story of betrayal and severance everyone knew--something modern. Not here, where anyone could wander in, but somewhere.

His dad’s office didn’t have shelves, but his mom’s did--could there be anything there? Maybe--but she also knew they all had access to her office.

Fitz mulled it over as he returned to the living room. He didn’t want to wait until he was nobility and had official access, and his parents wouldn’t share. Maybe Alvar--

Biana, out of nowhere, appeared. He nearly ran into her.

There was a moment of awkward silence, then, “Do you know where Mom and Dad are?”

He shook his head. “They’re out.”

“Doing what?” She scowled when he didn’t answer. “Seriously? I know it has to do with--with her.”

He repressed a sigh. “Why are you bothering me about it?”

Biana rolled her eyes. “Dad won’t tell me anything when I ask--but he told you.”

“Fine, yes, it has to do with Sophie. But I don’t know the specifics--I don’t know where they are or when they’ll be home. Dad doesn’t tell me that stuff either.” A hint of bitterness might’ve seeped through.

Biana toyed with a jewel on her sleeve. “What does she even matter anyways?”

“You--” he cut off, beyond words, gripping the books in his arms tight. “Are you serious? She’s--” he took a breath. Stiffly, “That’s classified.”

The words had their intended effect. Biana flinched, ever so slightly. “Fine. Whatever.”

Before either of them could dig that hole deeper, they heard the front door sweeping open. A minute later, their dad entered, eyes immediately landing on the two of them. He frowned, glancing between them.

“Good morning,” he said. He looked tired, still wearing yesterday’s clothes and his shoulders sagging slightly. But his voice was firm when he asked, “Everything alright?”

Fitz straightened. “Yep. But I need to talk to you.” He didn’t say it was about Sophie, but he didn’t think he needed to.

“Is it urgent?”

He shook his head. It’d waited all night; it could wait a little longer.

“Let me freshen up, then we can talk in my office, alright? Biana?” He redirected his attention to her.

“Where’s Mom?” she asked, frowning.

His father ran a slow hand through his hair. “Atlantis, I believe. She said she’d be back by lunch. Did you need something?”

“No.” She looked between the two of them and turned abruptly, marching out of the room to do who knew what. He was just glad she’d stopped bugging him.

His dad frowned after her, then shook his head with a sigh. He gave Fitz a tired smile. “You can go wait in my office--I’ll be quick.”

Fitz hesitated only a second before nodding. There’d be no one here if Sophie woke up, but this shouldn’t take too long either. Fitz deposited his books at his work space.

His dad set off down another corridor and he made his way to the office, closing the door softly behind him. He made to sit down, but…

There were books and scrolls all over the desk, pushed to the sides to make a workable space. His dad was one of the Council’s top emissaries; he had access to stuff no one else did. Fitz wasn’t supposed to look or even ask, and tried to be good about it. Mostly.

He glanced to the door.

Fitz slipped around the desk, careful not to touch anything. He’d never heard of any of these titles. One book was on pyrokinesis--and by the state of the cover, looked like it’d been written before the ban. Another on something called Serenvale. Then the edge of a scroll caught his attention, something stamped there that was curved and black.

Before he could unroll it--just enough to see--footsteps approached.

Fitz slipped back into the chair, slumping like he’d been waiting just as his father opened the door.

“Alright,” he said, coming around to sit across from him. “What is it you needed to tell me?”

He’d taken a hasty shower and put on a fresh outfit, and held two insulated glasses in his hands. Fitz accepted the one he was offered, cradling it in his hands without drinking. Warmth spread through his palms.

Fitz took a moment to reorient himself, remember what he was supposed to be doing.

“It’s about Sophie,” he started, and his father nodded, unsurprised, as he took a drink. “She said something weird about her manifesting.”

“Go on,” his dad encouraged when Fitz paused.

He tried to order his thoughts. “She said she hit her head when she was five--and that’s what she thought triggered her telepathy. She started hearing thoughts right after in the hospital.”

“She hit her head?” He raised his brows.

“But that can’t be right,” Fitz continued, staring down at the liquid in his cup; it glittered slightly. “But it can’t be a coincidence--right?”

His father nodded, setting aside his drink. He set a considering hand on his chin, brow furrowed. “It certainly is curious. I’ll look into it. Thank you, Fitz. Is that all?”

“There’s nothing in the Forbidden Cities that could trigger an ability, right?”

He shook his head. “There shouldn’t be, no. But there shouldn’t have been an elf there, either. Regardless,” he smiled, “I’m sure there’s no reason to worry.”

Fitz frowned, but nodded. He was certain there was more his dad wasn’t saying, but he was equally certain whatever it was, he’d handle it. A weight eased from his chest. He took a sip of his drink, a pleasant balance of muted sweet and herbal, just how he liked it.

“Now what?” Fitz asked.

His dad leaned back with a sigh, smiling ruefully. “Lots of paperwork and reports. But,” he shook his head, “that’s not for you to worry about. You’ve been invaluable, Fitz. I couldn’t have done any of this without you--relax, enjoy your weekend.”

Warmth spread through him, and he sat up straighter. “And Sophie?”

“Later today, when she’s ready, I’ll take her to Havenfield.”

Later today. It wasn’t surprising, but he wished they had a little more time. Stupid Council--Everglen would’ve been the perfect place for her. But he couldn’t do anything about that and swallowed his critiques.

He pivoted. “Why’s Mom in Atlantis?”

“Picking up a few things for Sophie, though I’m sure she’ll wrap a few other errands into it.” He smiled fondly.

Fitz opened his mouth to say--he wasn’t sure what. But his father’s pocket buzzed, and with it, he felt the conversation shift, the window close.

“I need to take this,” his dad said, pulling out his imparter. “I mean it, son. Enjoy your weekend.”

He nodded, careful with his drink as he stood. His dad got the door for him, squeezing his shoulder lightly before he disappeared back into his office to answer whoever hailed and do whatever nightmare of paperwork Sophie’d inspired.

Fitz looked back only a moment.

He settled back into the living room, newly energized. His drink got him through all the tedious skimming for relevant information and usable quotes, and from there everything started to fall into place.

The sun was solidly in the sky by the time he wrapped up, and still no sign of Sophie. He cleared his workspace, taking his essay back to his room to tuck in his bag, and the books back to the library--he’d grabbed a few more, so the load was heavier this time.

Half-way through returning them to their spots, his pocket buzzed. Arms full, his imparter continued its noise for almost a full minute before he’d finished putting everything in its proper place and could accept the hail.

“Dude, I thought you were gonna ignore me.” Keefe’s face flashed across the screen.

Fitz started back towards the living room. “I was in the middle of something, sorry.”

“Oh yeah? Have anything to do with wherever you’ve been the last two days?” Keefe gave him a look, smirking.

Fitz scowled. Keefe had definitely started another rumor. “I’m not even gonna answer that.”

“Yeesh, sensitive. Anyway, wanna hang?”

“Can’t.” He’d made it back to the living room at this point, and sunk back into one of the chairs. The last thing Sophie’s situation needed was Keefe. “But you could come over tomorrow if you want. I think Biana wanted to play base quest--I can tell her to invite Maruca.”

“You got it, Fitzy,” Keefe grinned. Then, squinting, “Is something happening today?”

Fitz made a non-committal shrug. “Family stuff--you know how it is. Plus, I have some school work to make up.” Had, but it was the easiest lie.

Keefe didn’t bat an eye. “Aww, being top of our level must be so hard. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of it.”

Fitz laughed. “I don’t think I wanna know what you’d do.”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be any fun!”

“If you told me, you’d drag me down with you.”

Keefe perked up. “Now, on second thought--”

Fitz heard the sound of the door opening a few rooms away and looked up. Voices echoed faintly alongside several sets of footsteps. “Hang on--I think my mom just got back.”

Keefe might’ve said something, but it was overshadowed by several gnomes entering the room. Each had arms overflowing with bags in all colors, textures, and sizes he could conceive of and then some.

His mom followed behind a moment later, her hair pulled out of the way and the sleeves of yesterday’s dress pushed back. She deposited her own load on a couch, preoccupied. “Fitz, dear, there you are. Give me a hand with all this, would you? I just need to get it all inside--I’ll sort through it after lunch. I bought So--”

“Sure, Mom,” he interrupted brusquely, and she startled. She looked up at him, frowning, but it immediately smoothed away when she saw the imparter in his hands.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Is that Keefe?”

“Hi, Della,” Keefe called.

She swept across the room, leaning over the shoulder of the couch to peer at Fitz’s imparter screen. She smiled. “Well, hello, Keefe--do forgive me for being so rude. It’s lovely to see you.”

Keefe blinked. “Uh--thanks.”

She leaned back, addressing Fitz. “I have something for you when you’re done--but no rush.” She paused, glancing around the room. “Do you know where…?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t seen her yet.”

“That’s alright. Thank you, Fitz,” she leaned back in to press a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll let you boys talk.”

“Actually, I should go,” Keefe said, looking off screen. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Fitz said, and his mom gave a small wave as Keefe blinked away. He tucked his imparter back into his pocket, letting out a breath. That’d been closer than he’d liked.

A few more gnomes deposited a few more mountains of bags, and his mom thanked them. “Is Keefe coming over tomorrow? That’ll be nice,” she added when he nodded.

“Did you still want help?”

She shook her head. “Perhaps later--oh, but before I forget.” She scanned the piles, digging through bags and boxes. It took a few minutes, but she let out a triumphant breath. “Here. I got these for you.”

She returned with a top in hand, holding it up and pressing it to his front, seeing what it would look like on. She had a few other garments tucked under her arms, all in muted blues.

The top was sleeveless and baggy, the material slippery. “For your morning runs,” she explained. “I picked out a few shorter options, too--and some shorts. Let me know what you think.”

“Thanks,” he said as she deposited it all in his arms.

“I have a few things for your sister as well--do you know where she is?”

Probably off pouting about something. “No.”

A final gnome deposited the last armful of bags. “Thank you for your assistance,” his mother smiled. “I think I can handle it from here.”

Fitz offered a wave in farewell--he didn’t recognize them, but didn’t want to be rude.

His mom surveyed all the boxes and bags piled throughout the room. “I’ll put this off for a moment. I desperately need a shower.” She turned to him. “Do you need anything, sweetheart?”

He shook his head and she smiled, looking him over. Satisfied, she started off towards his parents’ rooms with a promise to be quick, and he started back towards his room.

He deposited the running wear to the side, wondering when she’d found out he’d taken it up, but he quickly shook that off. There were more important things.

Sophie still hadn’t appeared by the time lunch rolled around.

His mom had showered, her hair let down and a fresh dress on, her favorite floral scent wafting every time she moved. And she’d somehow found Biana, who simply frowned at everything. His father was a few minutes behind, apologizing when he joined them at the table.

The meal was quiet, the oddities of the past several days not quite smoothed out.

Biana said nothing throughout the whole affair, which didn’t help, but he caught her as they started clearing away plates.

“Hey,” he started, cutting off her path. She glowered. “Keefe’s coming over tomorrow--did you still want to play base quest? You could invite Maruca.”

She paused, perking up ever so slightly. Then squinted at him. “You won’t be too busy?”

“Busy with what?”

“How should I know?”

Fitz started to sigh, but Biana shrugged. “Sure. I’ll invite her.”

Their mom called her over then--something to do with whatever she’d bought Biana during her shopping spree, and she spun and left. But she’d stopped scowling for once.

His dad disappeared back into his office, which left Fitz to figure out a way to kill the time. Seriously, how did anyone sleep that long?

He’d finished his essay, Keefe was off the table, and Biana was being annoying. But his elementalism Mentor had given him a book on wind-catching the other week in case he wanted to read ahead that he hadn’t gotten around to. He didn’t have anything better to do.

He retrieved the book from his room, then settled into one of the few armchairs in the living room not buried in shopping bags.

He’d barely made it through chapter one when his mom reappeared. She gave him a small smile, but otherwise let him be and got to work. She systematically unpacked bags and deconstructed boxes, piling them up in a corner to be dealt with later as she spread out all the clothes. There must’ve been some pattern her system--color? Formality? But he wasn’t sure.

He just kept reading, though he kept glancing up at the hallway that led to their rooms.

Every bit of furniture except his chair had been covered in fabric when hesitant footsteps sounded.

He sat up as Sophie entered, hesitating a moment on the threshold. “She’s alive! You do realize you slept through breakfast and lunch, right?”

She blinked, glancing around the room. “I did? Sorry, I guess I was tired.”

“You had a rough day yesterday,” his mom assured her, appearing. “Plus, your body needs rest while it detoxes.” Sophie clutched at her chest, startled back a step. His mom didn’t comment on it. “How are you doing?”

Fitz studied her as she silently shrugged. Even though she’d slept half the day away, she looked…tired. The hints of circles under her eyes, a droop to her shoulders. He frowned.

“Well,” his mother said, picking up the silence. “You look great. No that you weren’t pretty before, but I think that detox made a difference. You should see how shiny your hair is, and your eyes are so…exotic. You’re going to be quite the heartbreaker when you grow up.”

Biana chose that moment to reappear. “Who is?” She smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress--which was different than what she’d been wearing earlier. Must’ve been what Mom had gotten her.

“Sophie. Doesn’t she look pretty today?”

Biana glanced at her and shrugged, which was an improvement from outright glaring. “Isn’t that the same dress you wore yesterday?”

“All my other clothes were--”

His mom held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I should’ve sent something up for you. I’ve been shopping all morning. Behold,” she gestured to the entirety of what had once been the living room, “your new wardrobe.”

Sophie’s face screwed up, and she looked at his mother like she was waiting for a joke. When none came, she asked, “That’s all for me?”

“I got you everything you’ll need, plus a few extras. The only thing I didn’t get was a new nexus. I figured you’d want to pick your own. Unless you want to keep Fitz’s old, beat-up one.”

Sophie lifted her wrist, dragging a finger over the embellishments. The edges were worn and there were several visible scuff marks from various bramble games. She glanced at him, but quickly looked back at the markings. “This was yours?”

He nodded.

“Do you want it back?” she asked, ridiculous as ever.

He shook his head. “I don’t need it anymore. It’s yours if you want it.”

Sophie took a moment, and he tried to guess what was going on in her head. He was half tempted to try and read her mind, just to see if, somehow, another night had made any difference.

“Might as well keep this one then, so it doesn’t go to waste,” she said, her voice strange.

He liked that--more than he wanted to admit.

Biana made a small noise, but when he glanced at her, she was looking away.

His mom smiled. “If that’s what you want. I should be done packing all of this in a few minutes,” she said, which Fitz was pretty sure was impossible, “and then I’ll get you some lunch.”

“Packing? Are you kicking me out?” Sophie tried for a smile and failed. Fitz turned sharply to her, alert, remembering the cold feel of her tears on his shoulder. Her flat expression last night. But before he could say anything, his mom beat him to it.

She grabbed Sophie’s hands, but he still sat up in his seat, just in case.

“Of course not. We thought you’d want to get settled into your new home.” She glanced at an adjacent hall, where his father had silently appeared. He stood somber, that backpack and Ella in his hand and a sad tinge to his gaze. “If you want to wait a few days, we’ll unpack your stuff right now.”

Sophie’s eyes widened, then her lips pressed together. “No, it’s fine. In fact, I don’t really want lunch. I’m not hungry.”

His mom squeezed her shoulders. “You’re going to like Grady and Edaline.”

“What are they like?” Aloof. Strange. Sad.

His father stepped fully into the room, setting her things on a nearby pile, where it mostly didn’t fall over. “They’re great. They run an animal preserve at Havenfield, so they always have all kinds of exciting things going on.”

“Do they have any kids?” Even Biana flinched at that.

His dad’s voice got quiet. “Grady and Edaline lost their only daughter about fifteen years ago. Her name was Jolie. She was twenty when she died. It was a…terrible accident.”

Fitz watched Sophie’s reaction. He’d heard the story before and didn’t really get it--death wasn’t something he’d ever had to think about, an incomprehensible impossibility. But Sophie didn't so much as blink.

“I’m not sure they’ll mention it,” his dad continued, “so you might want to wait to see if they bring it up. That way you’ll know they’re ready to talk about it. And please don’t let that make you more nervous to meet them. I won’t deny that their loss has affected them, but they’re still two of the most wonderful people I know. You’re going to like them.” He held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s go meet your new guardians.”

Sophie hesitated a moment, then steeled herself. She took his hand, letting him lead her from the room.

His mom sighed, then shook herself off and turned to him. “Could you give me a hand, dear?”

Fitz set his book to the side and Biana made herself scarce. They worked in silence gathering and folding clothes, his mom somehow managing to cram more into each bag than could be carried in a single store. She disappeared for a moment to deliver Sophie a change of clothes, and that, more than anything else, made it real.

Sophie was leaving.

He’d only just found her. He still had so many questions--a lifetime of them built up from trip after trip around the globe.

Sophie and his dad passed back through, stopping just long enough for her to sling her small backpack over her shoulder. She picked up Ella, holding it just as she had last night.

“You’ll be okay,” his mom told her, pulling her in for a farewell hug.

“Thanks,” Sophie whispered. She clutched Ella tighter and looked to Fitz. “You too.”

He nodded, unsure what to say.

Then his father was picking up her bags and leading her towards the foyer, a pathfinder in hand. He watched them go, a strange pang in his chest.

They disappeared around the corner. Their footsteps faded.

And, just like that, Fitz’s life went back to “normal.”