Шеннон Мессенджер - Keeper of the Lost Cities

“How—” she started to ask, but Alden cut her off.

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

That wasn’t what she was going to ask, but the idea of more weird elf tests made her forget her other problems. She hoped she’d get through the next one without dropping a member of the Council.

They turned down a narrow, quiet canal lined with purple trees with thick, broad leaves like kelp. The water dead-ended at a single silver building, a square tower with no windows or ornamentation, other than a small sign with precise white letters that read: QUINLIN SONDEN: CHIEF MENTALIST. All signs of life had vanished, and the small black door was closed tight. But the sea scorpion slowed to a stop, and Alden took a small green cube from his pocket. The driver swiped it across the cuff above his elbow and handed it back to Alden after it made a tiny ping .

Sophie’s legs wobbled as she followed Alden toward the door. Despite Fitz’s earlier assurances, she couldn’t help wondering if the probe would hurt. Or worse—what humiliating memories Quinlin would find.

Alden bypassed the receptionist in the dim foyer and headed to the only office in back. The small square room smelled damp, and half the space was filled with a massive stone desk. A tall, dark-skinned elf with chin-length black hair jumped from his seat and gave an elegant bow.

“Please, there’s no need for ceremony, my friend,” Alden said with a wink.

“Of course.” Quinlin’s gaze settled on Sophie. “Brown eyes?”

“Definitely unique,” Alden agreed.

“That’s an understatement.” He stared at Sophie long enough to make her squirm. “You really found her—after all these years?”

And they still hadn’t explained why they’d been looking for her.

“You tell me,” Alden told Quinlin. “Do you have her file?”

“Right here.” Quinlin held up a small silver square before handing it to Sophie.

“You lick it,” Fitz explained. “They need your DNA.”

She tried not to think about how unsanitary that was as she gave the square the tiniest lick. The metal grew warm, and Sophie nearly dropped it when a hologram flashed out of the center: two strands of DNA—rotating in the air with an unearthly glow. The word MATCH flashed across them in bright green.

It took Sophie a second to realize she’d stopped breathing.

She was a match . She really did belong.

“So this is why Prentice sacrificed everything,” Quinlin breathed, staring at the glowing double helixes as though seeing a long-lost child.

Prentice? Was that a name?

And what did he sacrifice?

Alden answered before she could ask. “He definitely had his reasons. You’ll see when you try the probe.”

Sophie jumped as Alden squeezed her shoulders. He probably meant to reassure her, but it didn’t help as Quinlin reached toward her.

“It’s no big deal, Sophie,” Fitz promised.

“I’ll be done in less than a minute,” Quinlin added.

She swallowed her fears and nodded.

Two cold, slender fingers pressed against her temples, and Quinlin closed his eyes. Sophie counted the seconds as they ticked by. Two hundred seventy-eight passed before he pulled away—so much for less than a minute.

Quinlin’s mouth hung open.

“That’s what I thought,” Alden murmured, almost to himself. He turned and began pacing.

“You can’t hear anything either?” Sophie asked. Part of her was relieved—she hated the idea of having her private thoughts invaded. But she didn’t like the look on Quinlin’s face, like all the wind had been knocked out of him.

“What does that mean?” Quinlin asked quietly.

“It means she’ll be the greatest Keeper we’ve ever known, once she’s older,” Alden said through a sigh.

Quinlin snorted. “If she isn’t already.”

Alden froze midstep. When he turned to face her, he looked pale.

“What’s a Keeper?” Sophie asked.

A second passed before Alden answered. “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?”

“Quinlin was joking about that.” Alden’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, which made it harder to believe.

Then again, the only secret she was currently keeping was where she’d hidden her sister’s karaoke game, so she didn’t have to listen to Amy sing off-key all the time. How could she be a Keeper?

“Perhaps we should talk upstairs.” Alden gestured to the foyer, where the receptionist was leaning toward them, making notes. Clearly eavesdropping.

Quinlin led them to the far end of the small office. He licked a silver strip on the wall, and a narrow door slid open, revealing a winding stairway. They climbed to an empty oval room with live footage of brush fires projected across the walls.

A cold chill settled into Sophie’s core when she recognized the city.

“Why are you watching the San Diego wildfires?” She pointed to the aerial view of Southern California. White fire lines formed an almost perfect half circle around San Diego.

“You know the area?” Quinlin asked.

“Yeah, I live there.”

Quinlin’s gasp made her ears ring.

Thin lines etched into Alden’s forehead as he stared at the images. “Why didn’t you tell me there were fires?” he asked Fitz.

“I didn’t know they were important.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me what was important. I asked you to tell me everything .” Alden turned to Quinlin. “Why were you watching the fires?”

“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?”

Sophie had no idea what “the sign” was, but she didn’t like the way the lines on Alden’s forehead deepened. Little valleys of worry.

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

“Article?” Quinlin asked.

“The one about the child prodigy in San Diego. Led me right to Sophie.”

Reflections of the glowing flames made Quinlin look even more haunted as he shifted his weight. “I didn’t send you any articles. Did it have a note from me?”

Alden frowned. “No. But you were the only one who knew what I was up to.”

“Not the only one,” Quinlin said quietly.

“What’s going on?” Sophie asked. She didn’t care about interrupting—or the warning Fitz was trying to communicate with his waving hands. “What sign? What’s wrong with the fires? Should I warn my family to get out of there?”

Not being allowed to read minds was turning out to be more frustrating than she’d ever imagined. The answers she needed were right there—within her reach. But what would happen if they caught her taking them?

She didn’t want to find out.

“There’s no reason to worry, Sophie,” Alden promised. “I know this all seems very strange to you, but I assure you we have everything under control.”

The calm tone to his voice made her cheeks feel hot. Maybe she was overreacting. “Sorry. It’s just been a weird day. Between the guy trying to grab me this morning and—”

“What?” Quinlin interrupted, glancing between Sophie and Alden. “Was he . . . ?”

“An elf?” Alden finished. “I doubt it.”

“How can you be sure?” Quinlin asked.

Alden turned to Sophie. “Why didn’t he take you?”

She shuddered, remembering the desperate look in the kidnapper’s eyes before Mr. Forkle stepped in. “My neighbor threatened to call the police.”