Шеннон Мессенджер - Keeper of the Lost Cities

Project Moonlark had to have something to do with the Black Swan—whatever that was. And they had to be behind the fires. But . . . why set fires—especially arounds humans? What would that accomplish?

The fires consumed her thoughts so much they crept into her dreams. Vivid nightmares of her human family, trapped in their old house, surrounded by fire. She knew it wasn’t real, but she still woke up shivering every night. It got so bad she slept with Iggy on her pillow so she wouldn’t be alone.

Pretty soon she was counting down the days until school resumed. School was safe. She’d passed her exams. Once school started she would have nothing to worry about.

“CONGRATULATIONS TO EVERYONE WHO PASSEDtheir midterms,” Dame Alina said during their first orientation. “I hope you enjoyed your six-week vacation, because it’s time to get serious. Anyone who got lower than eighty-five percent on their midterms needs to step it up or you will not pass your finals.”

Sophie sighed. Aside from the seventy-nine in alchemy, she’d received an eighty-one in elementalism, and an eighty-three in physical education.

“Your Mentors also tell me there are one hundred nine Level Threes who haven’t manifested abilities, and more than double that of Level Twos—which is unacceptable. Be prepared to be pushed much harder in ability detecting from now on.”

Groans chorused through the room.

The next week everyone looked sweaty and wilted as they trudged into study hall after ability detecting. Even Marella’s poufy hair had thrown in the towel and drooped against her head.

“What did they do to you guys?” Sophie asked.

“Stuck us in an oven and roasted us for two hours trying to figure out if we were Frosters,” Dex grumbled.

“Which none of us were, because frosting is a stupid talent almost no one has,” Marella added. She slumped into a chair. “What did you do in remedial studies?”

“Same old boring stuff.”

Actually, she’d had a blast. Tiergan had her test her transmitting distance, and it was off the charts. Fitz almost had a heart attack when she transmitted into his mind from all the way across the school. She couldn’t blame him for his surprise—even Tiergan didn’t know that was possible—but she’d never forget the way his mind actually jerked when she reached it. She hoped he hadn’t peed his pants.

She fought off her smile, feeling guilty that everyone else suffered while she had fun. “What are Frosters?”

Dex rested his cheek against the table. “Cryokinetics. They freeze things by manipulating the ice particles in the air. It’s totally useless. I don’t know why they even test us for it.”

“They have to test us for everything,” Jensi reminded him.

“That’s not true. They don’t test us for pyrokinesis,” Dex argued.

“Yeah, because that’s a forbidden talent,” Marella said.

“There are forbidden talents?” Sophie asked.

“Only one,” Dex told her. “Mesmers and Inflictors are closely monitored, but Pyrokinetics are forbidden.”

“Why?”

“Too dangerous.”

“How could it be more dangerous than someone who can inflict pain?”

“Because fire’s too unpredictable. No one can truly control it.”

“Plus, people died,” Marella added.

“Who?” Dex asked.

Marella shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard five people died, and that’s why it’s forbidden now.”

“But how can they forbid something like that?” Sophie asked. “Isn’t that kind of like forbidding someone to breathe?”

“Nah. Some talents happen on their own as you get older, like telepathy and empathy. Others you would never know you have if something didn’t trigger them.”

Sophie shook her head. “That still seems wrong. It’s like they’re not allowed to be who they are.”

“Oh, relax. There’s only been like twelve—ever—so it’s not exactly a huge problem.”

“I guess.” She wasn’t really listening anymore, because she’d remembered what Alvar had said about the fires.

Conspiracy theory.

Could a Pyrokinetic be part of that?

It was an interesting idea—and left her head spinning for the rest of study hall—but she needed more information. She swung by the library to see if they had any books on the subject. Surely Alden wouldn’t mind her doing a little innocent research at school, right?

The Level Two library didn’t have any books on Pyrokinetics. Neither did Level Three’s. The Level Six librarian finally told her most books on the subject were banned, but she took Sophie’s name and promised to check the archives and send anything she found to Sophie’s locker. In the meantime, Sophie wondered if Grady and Edaline had any books in the libraries at Havenfield.

The main library downstairs was a bust, but Grady and Edaline had to have personal libraries in their offices on the second floor. Seemed like the perfect place to hide banned books. Only problem: Even after living there for a little more than five months, Sophie wasn’t sure she was allowed in that section of the house, and she didn’t know how they’d react if they caught her—especially after Alden’s warning.

But she couldn’t let it go. So she waited until Grady and Edaline were busy outside with a pair of dire wolves and snuck upstairs for a quick peek, promising herself she’d be careful not to leave any trace she’d been there.

The first door she tried was Grady’s office. Rolled scrolls were stuffed in bins, a mountain of paperwork littered the desk, and books were shoved haphazardly on the shelves. No pictures, no knickknacks—nothing personal to make the place feel warm. But there were empty spaces where they might have been.

The bookshelves were filled with law and history books. They probably talked about Pyrokinetics in there somewhere, but Sophie didn’t have time to scan through them all. The scrolls tempted her, but they were rolled up too tight to read, and she was afraid he’d be able to tell if she unrolled them. She wasn’t brave enough to flip through the papers on his desk either, in case they were in a special order. She hoped Edaline’s office would be more helpful.

She’d assumed the door across the hall was Edaline’s, so she almost gasped when she stepped into a dim bedroom. Lacy curtains blocked most of the sunlight, crystal chandeliers were dulled with dust, and there were scattered remnants left behind from childhood: stuffed unicorns, Prattles’ pins strung on lanyards, dolls, books. On the desk was a framed photo of a beautiful girl.

Jolie.

Her blond hair hung in soft curls to her waist, and she had Edaline’s turquoise eyes and Grady’s striking bone structure. She wore a white Level Six uniform in the photo, so she was probably sixteen when it was taken. Next to it was another picture: Grady, Edaline, and Jolie, when she was close to Sophie’s age, standing in a breathtaking garden. It was the old them—happy, wearing the capes of the nobility—before their lives were struck by tragedy. Sophie could have spent the whole day drinking in the glimpse of who they used to be, but she knew this was the worst place they could find her. She peeled her eyes away and left.

The last room had obviously been Edaline’s office, but it had turned into the place where leftover junk went to die. Stacks of locked trunks littered the floor, covered with piles of folded linens, unopened presents, and random objects she couldn’t identify. A huge bin of unopened letters blocked most of the doorway, so Sophie couldn’t get inside—which was fine. The bookshelves were full of thick, dusty volumes, and anything she disturbed would be too obvious.

She’d have to figure out another way to find books on Pyrokinetics. Maybe Biana would let her look through the library at Everglen—but she’d have to come up with a good excuse, in case Alden found them in there. She was on murky ground, but she was close to something—she could feel it. Her mind wouldn’t let her drop it until she figured out what it was.