Keeper of the Lost Cities (14 page)

“Is that your dad?”

“Yeah. Well—um—that’s the guy who raised me,” she corrected, blinking away the tears that had formed. It was going to be hard to get used to saying that. But she had to. She wasn’t his daughter. He didn’t even know she existed anymore.

Dex frowned. “What happened to them?”

“I’m not allowed to know.” She couldn’t keep the sadness out of her voice. As much as she didn’t want it to matter, it was hard not knowing where they were or how they were doing.

“Sorry.” He shuffled his feet. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” She wasn’t sure she was ready to look through the scrapbook, but Dex already had it open and was flipping through the pages. She hoped there weren’t any naked baby pictures in there.

“Why did you take your picture with a guy in a giant mouse suit? Actually—better question: Why would anyone wear a giant mouse suit?”

“We’re at Disneyland.”

His head snapped up. “I have my own land?”

“What?”

“My last name is Dizznee.”

She laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s a coincidence.”

He squinted at the picture. “Are you wearing fairy wings?”

“Okay, I think we’ve had enough fun with the photos.” She pulled the scrapbook away from him before he found anything else to make fun of.

“Sorry. I just can’t get over it. I mean, I’ve never seen a human, in real life. And you
lived
with them.” He shook his head. “How come you live with Grady and Edaline? Are you related to them?”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not related to anyone.”

“You’re alive. You must have parents.”

She shook her head. “My real parents didn’t want me to know who they are, so as far as I’m concerned, they don’t exist.”

Dex didn’t seem to know what to say to that. Honestly, she didn’t either.

“Hey, this is one of those music things,” he said, picking up her iPod.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“My mom’s into human movies. She doesn’t have many, but one of them had one of these things in it, and I’ve always wanted to see one. We don’t have anything like them.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Elves aren’t really musical—not like dwarves. They have some awesome music.” He slid his fingers across the screen. “It’s dead.”

“No outlets here. No way to charge it.”

Dex flipped it over. “I don’t know much about human technology, but I bet I could make it solar powered.”

“Really?”

“Well, I can give it a try.” He slipped it into his pocket and went over to her desk, rifling through all her Foxfire stuff. He scanned her schedule. “Sir Conley’s pretty cool, I hear. But good luck with Lady Galvin. She has the highest fail rate of any Mentor—ever. I’m pretty sure she failed her last prodigy a few weeks ago.”

Sophie’s heart slammed so hard she was surprised it didn’t punch through her chest. Were they
trying
to make her fail? She wouldn’t put it past Bronte to rig her schedule.

But . . . this was school. She’d always been great at school.

She took a deep, calming breath.

“Hey, I could help you find your way around tomorrow,” Dex offered.

Relief flooded through her. She wouldn’t have to do this alone. Except . . .

“You wouldn’t mind being seen with the weird new girl with the weird brown eyes and the weird human past?”

“Are you kidding? I can’t wait to tell everyone you were my friend first.”

She smiled. “We’re friends?”

“Yeah. I mean—if you want to be.”

“Of course!”

Dex’s smile widened, flashing his deep dimples. “Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

S
OPHIE WAS STILL TRYING TO FIGURE OUT
which of the strange gadgets from Della were school supplies when the chimes rang. Dex had arranged to meet her at Havenfield so she wouldn’t have to arrive at Foxfire alone.

She laughed as she let him inside. “And I thought my uniform was bad.”

She couldn’t believe she had to be seen in a blue pleated skirt with black leggings and shirt-vest-cape combo. Dex’s was worse, though. The blue lace-up jerkin over a black long-sleeved shirt and blue slacks with pockets at the ankles wasn’t so bad. But the waist-length cape made him look like a really lame superhero—Captain Blueberry to the rescue!

“What’s with the capes?” she asked.

“I know, they’re stupid, right? But they’re a sign of status, so we have to wear them.”

“Capes?”

“Yeah, haven’t you noticed that only the nobility have them? Foxfire is the only
noble
school—meaning you have to go there in order to be in the nobility—so we wear half capes to demonstrate that. At least next year we get rid of the wimpy halcyon.” He pulled on the blue, jeweled bird that clasped the cape against his neck. “We’ll be mastodons.”

He laughed when he caught her confused expression. “Each grade level has a mascot. Level Two is a halcyon, these dumb birds that can sense when a storm is coming. But Level Three is a mastodon, so at the opening ceremonies on the first day of school we get to dress in these cool elephant costumes. Be glad you missed wearing the halcyon costume. We looked like idiots.”

Dressing like an elephant didn’t sound nearly as appealing as Dex seemed to think, but she’d worry about that next year. Assuming she was allowed to stay at Foxfire.

One problem at a time,
she reminded herself.

“Hey, you’re wearing the Ruewen crest,” Dex said, pointing to the triangle patch sewn where her cape hung over her heart: a scarlet eagle soaring with a white rose in its talons. His patch was square and looked like a bunch of chemistry equipment twisted into a tree. “We wear our family’s crest on our uniform. If Grady and Edaline are letting you wear theirs, they must be serious. Are they adopting you?”

“I don’t know.” She’d never thought about adoption—she was still getting used to the idea of being an orphan.

What if they didn’t adopt her?

Everything in her life was so temporary. Her enrollment at Foxfire. Her home. It felt like any second it could all be ripped away.

“Where are they, anyway?” Dex asked, looking around.

“A gnome ran in during breakfast and yelled something about a manticore stinging a stegosaurus, and they both ran off.”

“And people say my parents are weird.”

“It’s pretty crazy here. But they seem nice enough.”

“Grady and Edaline? Oh yeah, they’re great. They keep to themselves a lot because of what happened to Jolie. I never knew them before it happened, but my mom said they used to throw these huge parties everyone looked forward to all year. Now they never leave the house. So weird.”

Sophie shrugged. “A lot of people are never the same after someone they love dies.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She started to ask why he seemed surprised, but then she remembered what Alden had explained about the elvin life span. Death was probably a rare thing in this world. Which must make it even harder for the few elves who’d had to cope with it.

“My mom thinks it’ll be good for them having you around,” Dex told her. “Maybe they’ll get over it.”

She wasn’t sure they would ever
get over it
, but his words calmed her panic. If she was good for them, maybe they’d want to keep her. She did understand what they were feeling—maybe better than most other elves.

“Hey, wait a minute,” she said, frowning. “How do you know about adoption? I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of orphans around here.”

“We don’t,” Dex agreed. “We had a big drama a few years back—some kid named Wylie whose dad was exiled had his mom die too. Something broke her concentration while she was leaping and she faded away, I guess. I don’t know much, just that Sir Tiergan adopted him and retired from Foxfire.”

“Sir Tiergan—the telepathy Mentor?”

“Yeah. Wait—how do you know about him?”

“Uh, Alden mentioned him,” she mumbled, trying to recover. She’d forgotten to pretend she had no connection to Tiergan.

“Oh yeah, he
hates
Alden. Blames him for the dad being exiled or something. But I might be remembering wrong. Wylie’s a few years older than me, so I’ve never met him or anything. You ready to go?”

She slipped her satchel over her head. “Yep. How do we get there?”

He led her up to the cupola and pointed to hundreds of crystals hanging in a round chandelier. “The Leapmaster 500. You’re lucky. My parents aren’t nobility, so they’re only authorized to have the 250—it’s missing tons of cool places.
Foxfire!
” he shouted.

The crystals rotated until one lowered, casting a beam of light toward the ground.

“You ready?” he asked.

She wasn’t. But she forced a smile across her lips, took a deep breath, and let the warm feathers whisk through her and pull her away to her first day at Foxfire.

“THAT’S A SCHOOL?” SOPHIE ASKED,
trying to make sense of the bizarre structure spread before them.

A five-story glass pyramid towered over everything from its place in the center of a wide stone courtyard. The main building wrapped around the pyramid in a sharply angled U and was made entirely of stained glass. Six towers—each a different color—separated the wings, and a seventh tower—another Leapmaster—stood in the center, taller than the others.

To the left sat a domed amphitheater and two smaller buildings, all built from the same glowing stones as the castle Fitz had shown her in Lumenaria. To the right, two giant towers, one gold and one silver, twisted around one another. Combined with extensive fields of purple grass, the place seemed more like a small city than a school, and Sophie tried not to imagine how hopelessly lost she would be.

Dex led her into the bottom floor of the glass pyramid, which was packed with prodigies in uniforms the same colors as the building’s six towers. All hope of finding Fitz faded when she saw the chaos, and Sophie ducked behind Dex, hoping no one would notice her.

“What are we doing here?” she leaned in and whispered.

“Every morning starts with orientation. It’s no big deal. Dame Alina—our principal—just reads off any announcements while they take attendance.”

“How can they take attendance with this many people?”

He pulled his registry pendant out from under his collar. “They track us with these.”

Thousands of bells chimed an intricate peal, and everyone faced the far wall, which now showed a close-up of Dame Alina, a stunning beauty with porcelain skin and fragile features.

She smoothed her caramel-colored hair and pursed her lips. “Good morning, prodigies. First and foremost, whoever put reekrod in my desk over the weekend
will
— It’s not funny!” she snapped as everyone cracked up. Her eyes narrowed. “Mark my words—whoever it was
will
be punished to the fullest extent of my abilities.”

She let the threat dangle before she continued. “Last week we had fourteen prodigies detect special abilities—a new record.” She clapped and everyone joined her. “And—last but not least—where is she? . . . Ah, there!”

A spotlight focused on Sophie.

“Everyone, please welcome Sophie Foster—a Level Two prodigy, starting her first day at Foxfire.”

Every eye turned to look at Sophie. Her name hissed around the room like a viper’s nest. “Ssssssophie.”

Dame Alina cleared her throat. “Is that how we welcome someone?”

A second of silence passed before everyone clapped. Sophie looked around for a hole she could crawl into.

“That’s better,” Dame Alina said. “That concludes today’s announcements. Have a wonderful day!”

Everyone applauded as Dame Alina flashed a brilliant smile and blinked off the screen. Then all eyes returned to Sophie. The whispering started again.

“Get me out of here,” she begged Dex.

He laughed and led her out the nearest exit.

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“She had to force them to clap, Dex.” She buried her face in her hands.

“Everyone was just surprised. We’ve never had a prodigy start in the middle of the year.”

She groaned. Why did she have to be the exception to
everything
?

“Just relax. You’ll be fine. Come on.”

He led her into the main building, which was divided into six different wings by the towers, one wing for each lower grade level. The walls of the Level Two wing were the same blue as her uniform, and the banners bore a halcyon in midflight.

Dex switched halls so many times Sophie lost count, and she was beyond confused when they entered an enormous quad with glittering crystal trees scattered throughout the room. A statue of a halcyon filled the center, sparkling like it was carved from sapphire instead of stone. Prodigies chatted as they put books and supplies into the narrow doorways lining the walls, but everyone fell silent when they noticed Sophie.

“Okay, this is the atrium,” Dex explained, ignoring the spectacle they were creating. He checked her schedule and led her toward the far wall, to a door marked with a rune she couldn’t read. “This is your locker. See that silver strip?” He pointed to a shiny mirrored rectangle just underneath the symbol. “Lick it. The lock uses your DNA.”

“That’s gross.”

“It tastes good.”

She doubted that, but she could feel everyone watching her so she licked the silver rectangle. “Mallowmelt?”

“The faculty picks the flavors. They change every day—but watch out for Elwin’s picks. Last week it was pepper. Made everyone sneeze like crazy.”

Dex’s locker was two doors down, and a loud
croak
sounded as he opened the door. Dex yelped and slammed it closed, but the whole room filled with the stench of rotten eggs mixed with morning breath and a dash of dirty diaper.

“She put a muskog in my locker!”
he screamed.

A high, wheezy snicker erupted behind them.

They whirled around to face a girl towering over them like a giant stick insect. The girl’s head was covered with a mass of frizzy brown curls, so it took Sophie a minute to recognize her as the bald girl from Slurps and Burps. Two girls stood next to her cackling like evil hags.