The darkness in his tone was almost as unsettling as watching his shadow crawl back to its proper angle. Sophie could definitely see why Fitz would find Shades creepy. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that this one was worth knowing.
The gong rang again, ordering them back to their tents, and the stronger afternoon gales made the exercise even more challenging. Waywards were tossed around the tents, crashing into the poles and each other. Sophie tried to use the wind’s momentum to finally get herself moving, but the wind seemed to be a force she couldn’t manipulate.
She stretched out her mind, feeling for other forces to play with, and instead picked up a feint sound. It came from the withered woods, and after a minute of concentrating she realized it was a voice.
A word.
The same word over and over, growing more chilling every time.
Help.
FORTY-SIX
SOPHIE RACED TOWARD the cliff and jumped, planning to teleport into the woods to find whoever needed help.
But as the forces whipped around her, she realized that levitating would be easier. She could feel a strange rush of resistance in the air now that she felt the thrill of falling. And when she focused on that energy, she finally had the thrust she needed to propel herself forward. A little additional concentration and she was sprinting so fast it made her eyes water.
“Where are you going?” Fitz asked, racing up beside her—and triggering a panicked plummet.
“Sorry,” he said as she fought to regain her concentration. “Didn’t mean to scare you. When I saw you jump, I jumped. Biana tried to come too, but our Coach grabbed her. What’s wrong?”
“Someone needs help. I can hear them calling me, but I don’t know where they are. I’m trying to track them now.”
She closed her eyes, but all she could hear were the angry voices shouting from the cliff above. Sophie was pretty sure they were setting a record for Exillium disobedience.
Fitz grabbed her hand so they could keep pace together. “How can I help?”
“Can you boost my concentration? It might clear my head.”
“Done,” he said as warmth trickled into her mind.
The extra energy snapped everything into focus. “He’s that way,” she said, pivoting in midair and running toward the densest part of the woods.
They sank lower as they moved, until their feet were skirting the tops of the withered trees.
“Down there,” she whispered, pointing to a small clearing.
The speckled leaves made a sickening squish as they touched down.
“He’s here somewhere—I can feel it,” she said as they combed the ground, kicking up the fallen leaves.
Several agonizing minutes passed before Fitz shouted, “I found him!”
Sophie raced to his side, feeling her stomach lurch when she saw the body lying in the shadow of the tallest, most shriveled tree.
The frail gnome’s eyes stared blankly ahead, and his skin was covered head to toe in the same speckles as the leaves.
“What do we do?” Fitz asked, shaking the gnome gently by the shoulders. “He’s breathing—but only barely.”
Sophie’s brain felt like it was trying to run in sixteen directions at once.
She took a breath. “Okay, we need to get him to the physician. Maybe he has some medicine that would make the gnome stronger. And then we’ll have to figure out how to get him to the quarantine in Lumenaria.”
“So back up the cliff?” Fitz asked.
“Yeah, is your levitating strong enough for that?”
“No idea.” Fitz scooped up the unconscious gnome. “When I jumped I just focused on your mind and followed your lead, like our Cognate training.”
“Well . . . I guess we should do the same thing again, then.”
Her panic fueled her push as she shoved against the forces in the air and launched straight up, with Fitz keeping pace beside her. The shouting grew to a deafening roar as they landed on the cliff’s ledge and faced the gathered crowd.
“We need the physician,” Sophie said, running toward the small tent.
The purple Coach blocked her. “You’re exposing us all.”
“The plague only affects gnomes and plants,” Sophie said, but she noticed the other Waywards were still scrambling away from her. “Please, this gnome needs help—it’s not going to hurt anyone.”
“Stay right there,” the physician called, shoving his way through the cluster of onlookers with the help of the red Coach. He helped Fitz set the gnome on the ground and checked the gnome’s pulse. “I’m not familiar with gnomish medicine. Even if I had a full apothecary, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Then we need to get him to Lumenaria—quickly,” Sophie told Fitz.
“That’s impossible,” the red Coach called from the front line of Waywards. “All of us are banished from the Lost Cities.”
“Who cares?” Sophie asked.
“Yeah, do you seriously think the Council will arrest us for delivering a sick gnome?” Fitz added.
Councillor Alina probably would, but Sophie decided not to mention that.
“Even if the Council would spare you,” the blue Coach said. “You’re forgetting that none of us have crystals to leap you there.”
“We don’t need a crystal,” Sophie told him.