Keeper of the Lost Cities (2 page)

“I’m not joking,” he said, like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Maybe he did
.

She wobbled on her feet.

She’d spent the past seven years wishing she could find someone else like her—someone who could do what she could. Now that she’d found him, she felt like the world had tilted sideways.

He grabbed her arms to steady her. “It’s okay, Sophie. I’m here to help you. We’ve been looking for you for twelve years.”

Twelve years?
And what did he mean by “we”?

Better question: What did he want with her?

The walls closed in and the room started to spin.

Air.

She needed air.

She jerked away and bolted through the door, stumbling as her shaky legs found their rhythm.

She sucked in giant breaths as she ran down the stairs in front of the museum. The smoke from the fires burned her lungs and white bits of ash flew in her face, but she ignored them. She wanted as much space between her and the strange boy as possible.

“Sophie, come back!” Fitz shouted behind her.

She picked up her pace as she raced through the courtyard at the base of the steps, past the wide fountain and over the grassy knolls to the sidewalk. No one got in her way—everyone was inside because of the poor air quality. But she could still hear his footsteps gaining on her.

“Wait,” Fitz called. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

She ignored him, pouring all her energy into her sprint and fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder to see how far back he was. She made it halfway through a crosswalk before the sound of screeching tires reminded her she hadn’t looked both ways.

Her head turned and she locked eyes with a terrified driver struggling to stop his car before it plowed right over her.

She was going to die.

T
HE
NEXT SECOND WAS A BLUR.

The car swerved right—missing Sophie by inches—then jumped the curb and sideswiped a streetlight. The heavy steel lantern cracked from its base and plummeted toward Sophie.

No!

It was her only thought as her instincts took over.

Her hand shot into the air, her mind pulling strength from somewhere deep in her gut and pushing it out through her fingertips. She felt the force collide with the falling lantern, gripping on like it was an extension of her arm.

As the dust settled she looked up, and gasped.

The bright blue lantern floated above her, somehow held up by her mind. It didn’t even feel heavy, though she was sure it weighed a ton.

“Put it down,” a familiar, accented voice warned, bringing her out of her trance.

She shrieked and dropped her arm without thinking. The streetlight hurtled toward them.

“Watch out!” Fitz shouted, yanking her out of the way a split second before the lantern crashed to the ground. The force of the impact knocked them over, and they tumbled to the sidewalk. Fitz’s body broke her fall as she landed across his chest.

Time seemed to stop.

She stared into his eyes—eyes that were now stretched as wide as they could go—trying to sort through the flurry of thoughts and questions swirling around in her head to find something coherent.

“How did you do that?” he whispered.

“I have no idea.” She sat up, replaying the past few seconds in her mind. Nothing made sense.

“We need to get out of here,” Fitz warned, pointing to the driver, who was staring at them like he’d witnessed a miracle.

“He saw,” she gasped, feeling her chest tighten with panic.

Fitz pulled her to her feet as he got up. “Come on, let’s get out of sight.”

She was too overwhelmed to figure out a plan on her own, so she didn’t resist when he dragged her down the street.

“Which way?” he asked when they reached the first intersection.

She didn’t want to be alone with him, so she pointed north, toward the San Diego Zoo, where there was sure to be a crowd—even during a firestorm.

They took off running, though no one was following, and for the first time in her life, Sophie
missed
hearing thoughts. She had no idea what Fitz wanted—and it changed everything. Her mind ran through terrifying scenarios, most of which involved government agents throwing her into dark vans to run experiments on her. She watched the road, ready to bolt at the first sign of anything suspicious.

They reached the zoo’s massive parking lot, and Sophie relaxed when she saw people outside, milling around their cars. Nothing would happen with so many witnesses. She slowed her pace to a walk.

“What do you want?” she asked when she caught her breath.

“I’m here to help you, I promise.”

His voice sounded sincere. Didn’t make it easier to believe him, though.

“Why were you looking for me?” She tugged out a loose eyelash, more than a little afraid of the answer.

He opened his mouth, then hesitated. “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you.”

“How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t answer my questions?”

He considered that for a second. “Okay, fine—but I don’t know much. My father sent me to find you. We’ve been looking for a specific girl your age, and I was supposed to observe and report back to him, like always. I wasn’t supposed to talk to you.” He frowned, like he was disappointed with himself. “I just couldn’t figure you out. You don’t make sense.”

“What does
that
mean?”

“It means you’re . . . different from what I expected. Your eyes really threw me off.”

“What’s wrong with my eyes?” She touched her eyelids, suddenly self-conscious.

“We all have blue eyes. So when I saw them, I figured we had the wrong girl again. But we didn’t.” He looked at her with something like awe. “You’re really one of us.”

She stopped and held up her hands. “Whoa. Hang on. What do you mean, ‘one of us’?”

He glanced over his shoulder, frowning when he spotted a crowd of fanny-pack-wearing tourists within earshot. He pulled her toward a deserted corner of the parking lot, ducking behind a dark green minivan.

“Okay—there’s no easy way to explain this, so I’m just going to say it. We’re not human, Sophie.”

For a second she was too stunned to speak. Then a hysterical laugh escaped her lips. “Not human,” she repeated, shaking her head. “Riiiiiight.”

“Where are you going?” he asked as she moved toward the sidewalk.

“You’re insane—and I’m
insane for trusting you.” She kicked the ground as she stomped away.

“I’m telling the truth,” he called. “Just think for a minute, Sophie.”

The last thing she wanted to do was listen to another word he said, but the plea in his voice made her stop and face him.

“Can humans do this?”

He closed his eyes, and vanished. He was only gone for a second, but it was enough to leave her reeling. She leaned against a car, feeling everything spin around her.

“But I can’t do that,” she argued, taking deep breaths to clear her head.

“You have no idea what you can do when you set your mind to it. Think of what you did with that pole a few minutes ago.”

He seemed so sure—and it almost made sense.

But how could that be?

And if she wasn’t human . . . what was she?

S
O . . . WHAT?” SOPHIE MANAGED TO SAY
when she finally found her voice. “You’re saying I’m . . . an alien?”

She held her breath.

Fitz erupted into laugher.

Her cheeks grew hot, but she was also relieved. She didn’t want to be an alien.

“No,” he said when he’d managed to compose himself. “I’m saying you’re an elf.”

An
elf
.

The word hung in the air between them—a foreign object that didn’t belong.

“An elf,” she repeated. Visions of little people in tights with pointy ears danced through her brain, and she couldn’t help giggling.

“You don’t believe me.”

“Did you really expect me to?”

“I guess not.” He ran his hands through his hair, making it stick out in wavy spikes—kind of like a rock star.

Could someone
that
good looking be crazy?

“I’m telling you the truth, Sophie. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Okay,” she agreed. If he refused to be serious, so would she. “Fine. I’m an elf. Am I supposed to help Frodo destroy the ring and save Middle-earth? Or do I have to make toys in the North Pole?”

He let out a sigh—but a smile hid in the corners of his mouth. “Would it help if I showed you?”

“Oh, sure—this ought to be good.”

She folded her arms as he pulled out a slender silver wand with intricate carvings etched into the sides. At the tip, a small, round crystal sparkled in the sunlight.

“Is that your magic wand?” she couldn’t resist asking.

He rolled his eyes. “Actually, it’s a pathfinder.” He spun the crystal and locked it into place with the silver latch at the top. “Now, this can be dangerous. Do you promise you’ll do
exactly
what I tell you to do?”

Her smile faded. “That depends. What do I have to do?”

“You need to take my hand and concentrate on holding on. And by concentrate, I mean you can’t think about anything else—no matter what happens. Can you do that?”

“Why?”

“Do you want proof or not?”

She wanted to say no—he couldn’t actually prove anything. What was he going to do, whisk her away to some magic elf land?

But she was curious. . . .

And, really, what harm could come from holding someone’s hand?

She willed her palms not to sweat as their fingers laced together. Her heart did that stupid fluttery thing again, and her hand tingled everywhere their skin touched.

He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the parking lot again. “Okay, we’re alone. We go on three. You ready?”

“What happens on three?”

He shot her a warning look, and she scowled at him. But she bit her tongue and concentrated on holding his hand, ignoring her racing heart. Seriously—when did she become one of those silly girls?

“One,” he counted, raising the wand. Sunlight hit a facet in the crystal and a bright beam refracted toward the ground.

“Two.” He tightened his grip. Sophie closed her eyes.

“Three.”

Fitz pulled her forward, and the warm tingling in her hand shot through her body—like a million feathers swelling underneath her skin, tickling her from the inside out. She fought off a giggle and concentrated on Fitz—but where was he? She knew she was clinging to him, but it felt like her body had melted into goo, and the only thing keeping her from oozing away was a blanket of warmth wrapped around her. Then, faster than the blink of an eye, the warmth faded, and she opened her eyes.

Her mouth fell open as she tried to take it all in. She might have even squeaked.

She stood at the edge of a glassy river lined with impossibly tall trees, fanning out their wide emerald leaves among the puffy white clouds. Across the river, a row of crystal castles glittered in the sunlight in a way that would make Walt Disney want to throw rocks at his “Magic Kingdom.” To her right, a golden path led into a sprawling city, where the elaborate domed buildings seemed to be built from brick-size jewels—each structure a different color. Snowcapped mountains surrounded the lush valley, and the crisp, cool air smelled like cinnamon and chocolate and sunshine.

Places this beautiful weren’t supposed to exist, much less appear out of thin air.

“You can let go of my hand now.”

Sophie jumped. She’d forgotten about Fitz.

Her hand released his, and as the blood tingled in her fingertips, she realized how hard she’d been squeezing. She looked around, unable to make sense of anything she saw. The castle towers twisted like spun sugar, and something seemed oddly familiar about them, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. “Where are we?”

“Our capital. We call it Eternalia, but you might have heard it called Shangri-la before.”

“Shangri-la,” she repeated, shaking her head. “Shangri-la is real?”

“All of the Lost Cities are real—but not how you’d picture them, I’m sure. Human stories rarely get anything right—think of all the ridiculous things you’ve heard about elves.”

She had to laugh at that—and the sharp burst of sound echoed off the trees. It was so quiet there, just the gentle breeze brushing her face and the soft murmur of the river. No traffic, no chatter, no hammering, unspoken thoughts. She could get
very
used to the silence. But it felt strange, too. Like something was missing.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, rising on her tiptoes to get a better view of the city. The streets were a ghost town.

Fitz pointed to a domed building that towered over all the others. The green stones of its walls looked like giant emeralds, but for some reason the building sparkled less than all the others. It looked like a serious place, for serious things. “See the blue banner flying? That means a tribunal is in progress. Everyone’s watching the proceedings.”

“A tribunal?”

“When the Council—basically our royalty—holds a hearing to decide if someone’s broken a law. They’re kind of a big deal when they happen.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Laws are rarely broken.”

Well,
that
was different. Humans broke the law all the time.

She shook her head. Was she really thinking of humans as something
other
?

But how else could she explain where she was?

She tried to wrap her mind around the idea, tried to force it to make sense. “So,” she said, cringing over her ridiculous next question. “This is . . . magic?”

Fitz laughed—a full body laugh, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

She glared at him. It couldn’t be
that
funny.

“No,” he said when he’d regained control. “Magic is a stupid idea humans came up with to try to explain things they couldn’t understand.”

“Okay,” she said, trying to cling to the remaining strands of her sanity. “Then how can we be here, when five minutes ago we were in San Diego?”

He held the pathfinder up to the sun, casting a ray of light onto his hand. “Light leaping. We hitched a ride on a beam of light that was headed straight here.”