“I hope not,” Linh said, “but I’ll feel safer knowing we still have a backup plan. Plus, we try not to leave a trace of anywhere we’ve lived.”
“You’re going to wash the campsite, right?” Tam asked her.
Linh nodded and raised her arms, gathering a storm over their former home. As soon as the clouds were in place, she clapped her hands and the storm burst, raining so hard the trees bent.
The rush of water flooded the river, but before it overflowed Linh waved her hands, wiping out the storm even faster than it had formed.
“Impressive,” Mr. Forkle told her. “You show more control than you realize.”
“I’ve learned to create fixed points,” she said. “Tiny drops of steady among the chaos. They give me something to focus on and help me to keep a tighter hold. But the more water there is, the more it slips beyond my control.”
“Of course,” Mr. Forkle said. “Water is an element, no less volatile than fire or air. All you can hope for is exactly what you’re achieving—victory within limits. I know someone who might be able to help.”
“Who?” Sophie asked.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Mr. Forkle reached into his pocket and pulled out two simple chains hanging with a tiny piece of magsidian shaped like a star. “The dwarves gave me these. They will take you to your new home and signal that you have permission to be there. Keep them safe, and never take them off. King Enki said he’d have provisions sent to you this afternoon. If there’s anything you’re missing, bring Miss Foster a list to Exillium and I’ll make sure you get it.”
“You’re not coming with us?” Linh asked as she looped her pendant around her neck.
“No. These are your lives. We won’t interfere.”
Tam looked relieved until Mr. Forkle added, “But before you go, I do have a request for Mr. Song.”
“There’s the catch!” Tam said, as if his world finally made sense. “And don’t call me that.”
“Is Mr. Tam acceptable?” Mr. Forkle asked. “I prefer to keep things formal. And it most definitely is not a catch. You’re free to leave right now if you’d like—that is your choice. But I hope you’ll consider my request and read the shadowvapor of the Wildwood Grove.”
“You want me to do a reading on a bunch of sick trees . . . ,” Tam said slowly.
“Assuming you’re willing,” Mr. Forkle agreed.
“I can already tell you it’ll be off the charts,” Tam told him, “since, y’know, the trees are dying.”
“That is what one would expect from a plague. But as I said before, I plan to improve upon my previous investigation. This time I intend to be incredibly thorough.”
Tam shrugged and stretched out his shadow, letting the darkness cover the grove in a smoky blanket.
“I don’t understand,” Tam said as the seconds ticked by.
“So it is as I thought,” Mr. Forkle said. “Thank you—you’ve been very helpful.”
“Wait,” Tam said as Mr. Forkle pulled out his pathfinder. “How did you know I wouldn’t feel anything?”
“I didn’t. But I’d hoped that would be the result.”
“Why?” Sophie asked. “What does that mean?”
“It means the plague feeds off shadowvapor. And hopefully we are one clue closer to a cure.”
FIFTY-FOUR
YOU WERE RIGHT,” Fitz said as they climbed the stairs to their tree houses. “I do like the twins.”
“So do I,” Dex agreed.
Mr. Forkle had left to update the physicians in Lumenaria on their findings about the plague. Sophie tried to feel his optimism, but she couldn’t quite get there.
Knowing more about how the plague worked was a good thing. But it still didn’t feel like enough.
“Someone needs to tell Shade Boy the role of Troublemaker with Daddy Issues is already filled,” Keefe mumbled, pulling her back to their conversation.
“You could’ve told him that when you warned him about the Foster fan club,” Biana suggested.
“Or not,” Sophie jumped in. “Seriously, why don’t you like Tam?” she asked Keefe.
“What’s to like?” He pretended to flip imaginary bangs, deepening his voice before saying, “The only people who refuse readings are those with darkness to hide.”
His impersonation was spot-on. But Sophie could hear a trace of something deeper behind the tease—the same thing she’d seen on Keefe’s face when he’d refused Tam’s reading.
He’d turned into the boy in the boobrie dude’s tent again—scared and angry and lost.
“I think you’ll change your mind when you get to know him,” Sophie said. “It sounds like you guys have a lot in common.”
They’d reached the tree houses by then, and Granite was waiting in the girls’ common room, along with Della, who looked wrung out after another visit with Prentice.
“The Council has decided to keep Silveny’s pregnancy secret,” Granite told Sophie. “And they’ve accepted your offer to help them communicate. In fact, they gave me some questions they’d like you to ask her today, so Vika can prepare before she visits.”