Шеннон Мессенджер - Keeper of the Lost Cities

After losing three rounds in a row, Keefe refused to play unless Sophie was on his team. She agreed to the switch, and then transmitted their hiding spots to Fitz so they’d lose and keep the suspicion off of her. Keefe looked ready to explode when Fitz tagged him out the second time, and he spent the rest of the night grumbling about conspiracies. Sophie laughed until her sides hurt. She couldn’t believe she’d let fear keep her away from this much fun for over a month.

Especially since Alden never asked to see her memory log. He and Della hugged her, told her to visit more often, and disappeared for the rest of the day on official business. For once she didn’t want to know where they went.

She was done asking questions. Done investigating conspiracies—not that she’d made any headway. She didn’t want to accidentally trigger any more memories. Ignorance was safer.

Whatever was going on was the Council’s problem, not hers. She wouldn’t let fear control her again.

SHE MADE IT ONE WHOLEmonth without unnecessary stress or worry, and then Dame Alina said the two most terrifying words ever: “final exams.”

One month until finals. And even if she passed the tests, she still had to face another tribunal, where the Council—Bronte—would permanently decide her future at Foxfire. She felt like throwing up every time she thought about it.

Alchemy was still her worst subject, but she also struggled with elementalism and PE—all the subjects where she had to do things, not just learn. She still hadn’t figured out how to turn off the part of her brain that screamed levitating was impossible, that lightning couldn’t be jarred, that the law of conservation of mass was a legitimate scientific principle—and it always messed her up.

Dex had been nagging her for months to try an elixir he invented called Nogginease , which contained limbium , a rare mineral that could supposedly clear her mind. She’d resisted, since she couldn’t use it during the exams, but maybe it was like learning to ride a bike. She needed training wheels to start.

Dex looked downright giddy when she asked for a bottle—probably because her lack of skill caused him to lose when they were on the same team in PE. He brought her a week’s supply the next morning.

She swallowed the unnaturally cold syrup in one gulp, wincing as the chill ran down her throat. “I don’t feel different.”

Dex laughed. “Give it a chance. Your body needs time to absorb it.”

“I should probably change into my uniform then.”

A few steps toward the locker room her mind fuzzed. She leaned against the wall for support. “I don’t think it’s working right.”

She couldn’t describe what was happening, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t a good thing.

Dex rushed to her side. “You don’t look so great.”

“I don’t feel so great.” She closed her eyes—the blurry vision was nauseating—and tore at her clothes. It was far, far too hot to wear a cape.

“Here, let me,” Dex said, unfastening the clasp on her cape. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” She tugged at her vest. “My skin’s on fire.”

“Whoa, what are those?” Dex pointed to the huge red bumps popping up on her arms.

“Oh no,” she gasped, collapsing. “Allergy . . .”

Dex caught her before she hit the ground. “Allergy? What’s an allergy?”

She wanted to explain, but her chest felt like something was crushing it and she couldn’t get enough air. The world spun harder and her vision dimmed.

“Hang on. I’ll take you to Elwin.” Dex threw her over his shoulder, and then they were moving. He was strong, but they were the same height, and she weighed almost as much as he did, so their progress was slow. Maybe too slow. Fear settled into every muscle, making her tremble.

Then someone else grabbed her, cradling her in their arms. She heard some sort of discussion—an argument maybe—and then she was moving much faster. She was too far gone to make sense of it. There was a tugging in her stomach and a burning in her throat, and then she was out cold.

D ON’T TRY TO SPEAK YET, SOPHIE,”a familiar voice whispered as her eyes flut- tered open.

She couldn’t, even if she wanted to. Her throat chafed like sandpaper and her tongue felt like a foreign object. Her blurry eyes focused on the wild-haired head hovering over her.

“Nod if you can understand me,” Elwin instructed.

She nodded, surprised by how much energy the simple movement took.

“That’s the first good news today.” He smiled, but it didn’t erase the worry in his eyes as he held a small bottle against her lips. “I need you to swallow something for me.”

Some of it dribbled across her chin, but she managed to get most of it down.

“That’s a good girl.” He wiped her face with a soft cloth and placed a cold compress against her forehead. “Just rest for now, okay?”

She nodded again, exhausted from the effort.

The warm liquid soothed her dry throat and sent cool, tingling sensations rushing through her body. After a few minutes she could swallow normally again. “What happened?”

“I’m not exactly sure. Dex said you told him it was an allergy. He thinks it might be the limbium in a solution he gave you, because you’d never had it before.”

Her fuzzy memories focused. “Where is Dex?”

“I made him and Fitz wait outside till I had things under control. Things got a little too messy for spectators.”

Fitz?

She vaguely remembered stronger arms carrying her to safety. Had that been Fitz? She was about to ask when she caught what Elwin said. “Messy?”

“Don’t worry, I cleaned up all the vomit. But you need to change your shirt.”

She bolted upright. “I threw up?”

“Everywhere. Never seen anything like it. It’s always an adventure with you, isn’t it? But don’t worry, I don’t mind—and neither did Fitz. It was only his PE uniform.”

She threw up on Fitz?

“Oh no,” she wailed, wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment.

“What’s the matter? Are you in pain?”

“No,” she moaned, trying to crawl under the blankets and disappear. She could smell the mess on her uniform now and she couldn’t decide which was worse, knowing it was on her or knowing it was on Fitz, too. “Why? Why did this have to happen?”

“I don’t know much about allergies. Never seen one before—and I can’t say I’d like to see another. Bullhorn screamed his head off when you came in. Scared the wits out of me.”

She cringed. “It was that close?”

He bit his lip. “Bullhorn’s never done that before.”

They both shivered.

“How did you know what to do?” she whispered.

“I didn’t. I just took my best guess and hoped it would work. When Bullhorn left you alone, I knew I was on the right track.”

“Well . . . thank you.” The words felt trite, considering he’d saved her life. But what else could she say?

“Just don’t ever do that to me again! I’m going to make up a bottle of what I gave you, and I want you to keep it with you in case you ever have another reaction—and stay away from limbium.”

“I’ll try.”

He gave her one of his huge tunics and left her alone to change. Her soiled uniform went into an airtight bag to block the smell.

“You up for company?” Elwin asked when she finished. “Fitz and Dex won’t leave until they see that you’re okay.”

She sank lower in her bed and nodded, wondering how to apologize to someone for vomiting on them.

“You guys can come in,” Elwin called.

Dex rushed to her side, followed closely by Fitz.