Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(103)
Like what? she transmitted again, leaning closer.
He backed a step away. “Not now.”
When? she pressed.
“When I know whether or not I can trust you.”
He vanished into the shadows, taking his whispers with him.
By the time they’d reached the end of the week, Sophie had never been so tired, between the long Exillium days and the late nights of Cognate training. But she was more tired of the lack of progress. Her friends had been trying to learn about the Psionipath, but their Coaches were too guarded to answer their questions. And the campus had moved to yet another location without the slightest trace of plague.
They’d leaped to a glassy lake at the base of a snowcapped mountain to practice holding their breath, and two small tents had been added so they could change into wetsuits. Swim caps covered their hair and enormous goggles covered their faces, and they waded into the chilly water to float facedown and try to stay there.
It was the most brutal skill yet, and Sophie’s lungs were constantly screaming, BREATHE NOW OR YOU WILL DIE! Even the Hydrokinetic struggled with the assignment—in fact, she seemed to have it harder than anyone. As soon as she’d put her face in the water she’d thrash and flail, and when the Shade tried to calm her she kept mumbling, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”
By the second hour, the girl was in tears, and Sophie realized she might be able to help.
I can keep you calm, she transmitted to the girl. But I wanted to ask before I tried it. If you don’t want me to, make a sound so I know.
The girl stayed silent.
Okay, here goes.
Inflictors were only supposed to be able to inflict negative emotions, but thanks to Sophie’s alicorn-inspired DNA, she could trigger positive emotions as well. She closed her eyes and replayed a bunch of memories that made her feel happy and calm, letting the feelings gather in her heart until it felt like her chest would burst. Then she shoved the heat away, sending it shooting across the water. She couldn’t tell if it was working, but the Hydrokinetic stayed quiet, so she kept sending additional waves.
She was so focused on her inflicting that she forgot about everything else. It wasn’t until two hands pulled her out of the lake that she realized she hadn’t been breathing.
“It appears we have a new record!” her purple Coach announced. “Forty-six minutes.”
“Forty-six?” Sophie gasped for breath, wincing at the burn in her lungs.
Her Coach helped her wade back to shore and gave her a fraying gray towel to dry off. “Take one hundred deep breaths and your head will clear.”
Around breath seventy-three, a shadow slid across hers and the Shade’s voice filled her mind. “You want to know what we know?”
Of course, she transmitted.
“Okay.” She waited for him to say something, but he turned and walked away.
After they’d gotten their beads and changed into their regular uniforms, though, he slunk up beside her and whispered, “Now or never.”
The Hydrokinetic girl held a scratched yellow crystal up to the sunlight, and Sophie tried to think through the risks as she reached for the Shade’s offered hand.
I’ll be back soon, she transmitted to Fitz.
The light pulled her away before he could respond.
FIFTY
THE LEAP FELT shakier than normal, or maybe that was Sophie. She couldn’t believe she’d left Exillium with two strangers—without even asking where she was going.
They’d leaped to a place that had probably once been a beautiful garden. But now the cascading vines and enormous trees looked withered and crunchy and speckled with plague.
“Where are we?” Sophie asked.
“Introductions first,” the Shade said, throwing back his hood and tearing off his mask.
The Hydrokinetic girl did the same, and Sophie was stunned by the similarities between them. They both had the same pink lips and creamy complexion. But the biggest similarity was their eyes—the palest of pale blue, with flecks of silver glinting in the sunlight. Touches of silver in their hair enhanced the effect. The girl’s waist-length jet-black hair looked like the ends had been dipped in platinum, and the tips of the boy’s jagged bangs glinted every time he tossed them out of his eyes.
Together they looked like K-pop idols, or like they’d stepped straight out of anime. But Sophie realized the more logical option was, “You’re brother and sister.”
“Twins,” the Shade corrected. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“Why would it . . . ,” Sophie started to ask, then remembered how rare multiple births were in the Lost Cities—and how judgmental most elves were when it happened. “Of course not,” she promised. “I know what it’s like to be different.”
She threw back her hood and pulled off her mask, not missing the way they gawked at her eyes.
The Shade glanced at his sister before he said, “I’m Tam, and this is Linh.”
Sophie smiled. “I’m Sophie.”
“That’s a human name,” Tam said.
“It is.” Sophie realized then that Tam and Linh wouldn’t have heard any of the gossip about her. Judging by the length of their necklaces—long enough to wrap around their necks four times—they’d been at Exillium way before her arrival to the Lost Cities. In fact, she doubted they knew about anything that had happened over the last year, except whatever they’d seen in the Neutral Territories.