“Here,” Fitz said as she tried to lean against the freezing wall again. “Lean on me—that’s what I’m here for.”
Sophie doubted the Black Swan had meant it quite so literally. But he was much warmer than the wall. Fitz wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and Sophie was grateful Keefe wasn’t there to feel her mood shift—though she was proud that her heart kept an even tempo, even when Fitz leaned closer and whispered, “You can do this.”
She pinned the words in her mind, saving them in case she needed them later.
Three . . .
Two . . .
One.
She spread out her consciousness, and hundreds of voices rampaged into her brain.
Just take it one mind at a time, she told herself as their thoughts scraped and clawed at her defenses like wild animals. She concentrated on the nearest memory.
A starved, rabid troll chased two teenagers through a lonely forest. The teens were fast, and for a second it looked like they might get away. Then the troll was on top of them, raising its clawed hands over their stomachs and— Sophie shoved the memory away.
She’d thought she understood what evil looked like—but clearly she’d only experienced the PG version. The uncensored director’s cut was a thousand times worse.
Every memory she searched was madness and mayhem, blood and gore, death and destruction. It didn’t matter what species they were—though the ogres’ minds were surprisingly the most bearable, their hidden thoughts like sticky spiderwebs.
“You okay, Sophie?” Fitz asked.
“They’re so awful,” she whispered. “I can’t . . .”
“Yes you can,” he told her. “You’re stronger than them.”
Maybe she was. But she needed something good to cling to.
“I need a happy story,” she said. “Something that always makes you feel confident.”
“Okay. Um . . . Gah—I’m drawing a blank.”
“I’ll do it,” Dex offered.
“No wait—I’ve got it! When I was five, my dad brought me with him to pick Alvar up after he’d been descryed. I’d been so jealous, since Councillor Terik was making a huge exception to his no-descrying policy just for my brother. But when we got to Councillor Terik’s castle he offered to descry me, too. It was the best surprise ever. And then he told me I’d grow up to become an even more powerful Telepath than my dad, and . . . that was the first time I ever thought I could be special. It made me feel unstoppable. And you’re a thousand times more talented than I am, Sophie. I know you can do this.”
Sophie stacked his words into a wall, and the violent noise seemed to dim, clearing her head enough to think.
The last time she’d been in Prentice’s mind, he’d responded when she’d transmitted her name. She tried that again, powering the words with the last of her mental strength.
Agonizing seconds slipped past, but eventually she caught a faint whisper through the darkness.
Swan song.
“I found him!” She pointed the way Della, Biana, and Wraith had gone.
“You’re sure?” Mr. Forkle asked. “It’s strange that they would place him near the exit.”
Sophie checked again, and the sound was definitely coming from that direction. But Prentice’s voice was slipping away.
She took off running.
Dex caught up with her first, “You okay?”
“I’ve been better,” she said as the path forked, and she turned down the narrower hall. No one questioned her, even as the hall shrank with each curve of the spiral.
The third turn led them to another fork.
“An adjunct within an adjunct?” Granite asked. “How is that even possible?”
“One path goes up to higher ground.” Mr. Forkle turned to Sophie. “Which way?”
Sophie listened for Prentice, but his ghostly voice had gone silent. She transmitted her name again, and when he didn’t respond, she tried Black Swan! Follow the pretty bird across the sky! Wylie!
The last word brought him back.
“Left,” Sophie said, taking the path that went up.
“Why would they want him closer to the surface?” Mr. Forkle asked Granite as they followed. “That seems illogical.”
“Perhaps there was no more room for additions. Or—”
A groaning alarm drowned out the rest of Granite’s sentence.
Sirens rumbled and croaked, reminding Sophie of a didgeridoo.
“Sounds like they know we’re here!” Mr. Forkle shouted.
Their run turned to a sprint, leaving them breathless as the hallway widened again. Sophie could feel Prentice ahead, each step turning his presence warmer.
Warmer.
WARMER.
“There,” she said, dashing up a flight of stairs.
They dead-ended in an unmarked silver door and Dex set to work on the enormous padlock.
“This is different than the one you gave me to practice on,” he grumbled.
“But you can open it?” Granite asked.
“I hope so.”
“How are you feeling?” Fitz asked Sophie as she shivered against the frozen wall. “Have you blocked out the voices?”