None of them looked back as they sprinted into the trees. They wove around fallen branches and gnarled roots, making so many turns Sophie feared they were lost, until her ears picked up the telltale whoosh of waves. The forest parted a few steps farther, revealing a steep ocean bluff.
“I’m going to open my mind to yours so you can finally show me where we’re going,” she told Fitz.
“I don’t have anything to show you,” Fitz said. “I just know we’re supposed to start at the Path of the Privileged.”
Sophie dropped Fitz’s hand. “I have no idea what that is. And what do you mean by ‘start’?”
“That was the first instruction,” Fitz said.
“Instruction?” Sophie asked. “Or riddle?”
“I guess it could be a riddle,” Fitz mumbled. “But I didn’t think they’d do that this time.”
“Dude, have you met the Black Swan?” Keefe asked.
“I know,” Fitz said. “But I figured for something this important they’d be clear.”
Sophie backed away so she wouldn’t be tempted to shove Fitz off the cliff. “Okay”—deep breath—“what exactly did the riddle say?”
Fitz handed her a scrap of paper where he’d written the complete message.
Take the Path of the Privileged
Past eyes that watch eternal, and blood turned precious.
Seek the tower that would not yield for the next steps of your journey.
“Get anything from that, Foster?” Keefe asked, reading over her shoulder.
“Of course not,” Sophie grumbled. “Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier so we could’ve done some research?”
Fitz tore his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I guess I messed up.”
“And you didn’t see anything else?” Keefe asked him. “You searched Foster’s mind for a while.”
“Only a few minutes,” Fitz argued.
Keefe grabbed Fitz’s wrist and pressed his fingers against the exposed skin. “Hate to break it to you, but I can tell you’re hiding something.”
“Empaths,” Fitz grumbled.
“Just keeping you honest. So spill. What did you see in the Mysterious Miss F.’s mind?”
Fitz turned to Sophie, and even in the dim light she could see the red flush in his cheeks. “I might have seen some other stuff—but it wasn’t really thoughts. It was more like . . . feelings.”
“Oh?” Keefe asked as Sophie’s stomach filled with bubbling lava. “Does that mean you—”
“We’re wasting time!” Sophie interrupted. “The Council could be here any second, and I still have no idea where we’re supposed to be going.”
“Okay,” Keefe said, following her as she stalked to the edge of the cliff. “So . . . we still need to go to Florence, right? The Black Swan told you that?” When Fitz nodded, Keefe asked Sophie, “Doesn’t your photographic memory have a few pictures of the city tucked away?”
She had seen pictures of Florence, but . . . “That doesn’t tell us where we go after that.”
“We’ll figure it out. And once we do, we’ll all smack Fitz a few times and tell the Black Swan to knock it off with the lame, non-rhyming riddles. In the meantime”—Keefe grabbed Sophie’s hand again—“we’re doing this thing!”
They’d barely locked hands before Keefe pulled them off the cliff’s edge.
THREE
KEEFE LAUGHED WHILE everyone screamed and thrashed as they plummeted toward the ocean. “Wow, what a buncha babies. Don’t worry, Foster’s on it.”
His confidence melted some of the fog in Sophie’s head—enough to let her focus on the energy rushing with her adrenaline. She shoved the force out of her mind and thunder cracked the sky, sending them crashing into the void.
As they drifted with the darkness, Sophie imagined a picture she’d seen of Florence: Marble churches. Red rooftops. A golden river lined with colorful buildings.
She homed in on her favorite landmark: the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. Thunder clapped again, splitting the blackness with blinding light.
They slipped through the glowing crack and tumbled into a crowded courtyard, crashing into a marble wall and collapsing in a pile.
“Still gotta work out these landings,” Keefe groaned as he scooted out from under Fitz.
Sophie was much more focused on the pain in her head as hundreds of voices sliced through her mind. Human thoughts broadcast like radio waves, even with her impenetrable blocking. Luckily, she’d learned how to shield her mind by imagining an invisible barrier around her head.
Fitz rubbed his temples, clearly doing the same thing, but she refused to return the weary smile he gave her. Now they were lost in a Forbidden City and it was all his fault.
“It smells weird,” Biana said.
“Probably human pollution,” Fitz explained. “I don’t remember it being this strong, though.”
“Me either,” Sophie said. The air felt thick in her throat, and it had a bizarre caramel smell. Not at all what she’d expected for the land of pasta and garlic.
“So, are we invisible?” Dex asked, watching the crowds milling around them. “Or are they just more interested in that big domed thing.” He pointed to the famous Duomo across the courtyard.