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Prentice collapsed as he landed and let the infliction run its course, amazed he’d made it through in one piece. He’d had just enough time for exactly one action before he leapt away: jettisoning his registry pendant, looking at which emergency crystal he was using, or avoiding Bronte’s attack. He would take the pain and the risk of fading over putting the others of the Black Swan at risk. He just hoped he’d chosen a location that wouldn’t be the first place the Councillors would come looking for him.
Running footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and Prentice groaned and rolled over, looking around. Despite the lingering pain, he smiled as he recognized the surrounding foyer, and sagged with relief when Tiergan’s face suddenly filled his view.
“Prentice, what--” Tiergan shook him slightly, and paled. He grabbed a vial from a shelf nearby and thrust it at Prentice.
“They’re onto me,” Prentice said, his voice coming out in a rasp. “The Council came to arrest me, I only just got away.”
Tiergan’s eyes widened, and his gaze went to Prentice’s neck.
“I managed to ditch my pendant,” he said. “Thank the stars. Had to let Bronte hit me for my trouble, though.”
“And you leaped?” Tiergan exclaimed. “You leaped while being inflicted on? It’s a miracle you even made it!”
“It was better than putting you at risk!” Prentice spat. “Any of you; I didn’t have time to check which crystal I was using either. And I would have picked one of the hideouts if I could have, so you wouldn’t be at risk now. I need to get away from you before they think to check here, or on your coordinates.”
Tiergan’s face softened a little. “You need to rest ,” he tutted. “You’re in no shape to leap.” He held up a hand as Prentice opened his mouth to protest. “But you are right,” he conceded. He consulted his pocket watch and then pulled out his pathfinder. “If we go now I can help you through the leap and still be back here before the next check-in. And then I’ll hail Forkle to go check on you.”
“That’s still a big risk, what if you can’t get back in time? What if--?”
Tiergan’s hand closed around Prentice’s wrist as he held the pathfinder up to the light. “It’s better than putting you at risk,” Tiergan said firmly, and Prentice sighed before letting Tiergan and the light pull him away.
*****
The Alluveterre hideout was deserted when they arrived. Tiergan helped Prentice into a chair and shoved another bottle of fade fuel at him, then obeyed Prentice’s frantic shooing with a frown and a final, “I’ll hail the Collective and make sure someone’s here as soon as possible.”
Prentice sagged a little as Tiergan vanished, but he realized he couldn’t sit still. He got up and began to pace around the small room, considering his options. It was possible they could mount a legal defense, but he would have to willingly enter the Council’s custody, and that seemed not worth the risk. The Black Swan could hide him for a long time, he knew, but he didn’t want to be forever stuck in their hideouts. And Cyrah, and Wylie -- He didn’t want to abandon them, either of them, but he couldn’t let them bear the consequences for his fall either -- and Cyrah would insist on visiting him in any sort of self-imposed exile, and sooner or later they’d both be caught. It broke his heart, but there was no way around it. To them, he’d simply have to disappear. But where? If not one of the Black Swan’s hideouts? Some of the dwarfs would welcome him, but he would stick out there. He needed somewhere he could blend in, somewhere that wasn’t the Lost Cities. The Forbidden Cities, then.
Prentice had studied the Forbidden Cities while he worked on Project Moonlark. He knew enough about them to pass as human for a short while, long enough to learn whatever else he needed to survive there. They had needed someone to be near the Moonlark anyway - it might as well be him, and he’d have more time now, than Forkle would have. And Forkle at least would be able to visit him, probably Tiergan too once the suspicions died down. Maybe even Cyrah and-- no, he couldn’t let them get mixed up in this. It wasn’t worth putting them at risk.
Prentice turned as he heard a figure touch the ground behind him. Forkle looked grave, but he managed a small smile as he looked Prentice over. “Welcome to the pendantless life,” he said.
Prentice grimaced. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was sloppy--”
Forkle waved a hand. “We all knew the risks. And you’re here now, not on your way to Exile, be thankful for that. I’m thankful for that.”
Prentice nodded glumly. “I can watch over the Moonlark,” he said. “I know it was meant to be you, but I can do it.”
Forkle nodded. “I was thinking that too. It’ll be a good place to hide, and a useful one. It may take a couple of weeks to get things settled, but you should be safe here in the meantime, and I’m sure we can keep you busy studying up so that it’s not too bad of a stay.”
Prentice nodded, relieved.
Another figure began to materialize, and Prentice began to smile as he recognized Tiergan, and then began to panic as he saw who else had come through. He stared as Cyrah’s form solidified, and his heart plummeted as he saw Wylie’s small form emerge. Cyrah’s gaze found his, and she rushed him as soon as her solid feet hit the ground.
“You’re okay?” She asked as she collapsed into him, Prentice’s arms automatically wrapping tight around her and holding her up.
“I’ll be fine,” Prentice said. “But you shouldn’t be here.”
"You shouldn’t be here!” Cyrah hissed. “But since you are--”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Prentice insisted.
“I know enough,” Cyrah retorted. “You really think I haven’t known you were into something big? Something risky? And Tiergan told me enough of the rest just now, and we’ve already severed our pendants, so whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, I am here for you, understand?” Her grip on him tightened.
Prentice’s voice failed him, but he nodded into Cyrah’s hair and kissed the top of her head.
“I have to go to the Forbidden Cities,” Prentice whispered. “It’s as good as a banishment, and I can’t do that to you, we can’t do that to Wylie--”
“I want to come with you, Dad,” Wylie’s voice piped up as the boy wrapped himself around one of Prentice’s legs.
“We’re coming, darling,” Cyrah said. “The Forbidden Cities can’t be so bad. They can’t be as bad as losing you.”
“Okay,” Prentice breathed, and he felt his eyes fill with tears of gratitude as he reached down with one hand to ruffle Wylie’s hair. “Okay.”
*****
Their new home was roughly the size of some of the smaller Black Swan hideouts, a far cry from their old vast mansion, but it was at least blissfully above ground and had a small bit of grounds--a yard , Prentice reminded himself, the word for a small amount of grounds was yard --for them all to absorb the natural light and for Wylie to play.
They had all worked hard over the past couple of weeks to prepare for their new life, and Prentice hoped that it would be enough. He was fluent in English already from his work with the Black Swan, and Cyrah had taken it as an elective during her time in the elite levels. It had been rusty, but she had gotten herself up to fluency again, and Wylie had made excellent progress in his lessons. They'd learned the basics of electricity and appliances and telephones - Tinker had even managed to blend a human mobile telephone with an imparter so that he could use it for both human calls and calls to the Collective, though the shape of the human phone still felt odd in the pocket of his equally odd-feeling trousers-- jeans , Prentice remembered, was their name. Forkle had helped them establish a cover as an immigrant family from a rural area, which would hopefully excuse any anomalies in their language, knowledge, or behavior.
Prentice was unpacking their kitchen supplies when there was a knock on the door. Warily, Prentice set down the pan he had just picked up and went to answer it.
A woman stood on his doorstep, a sling with an infant bouncing softly stretched across her chest. Prentice blinked as he recognized the human they had chosen to carry Project Moonlark, but he tried not to let the recognition show in his face.
“Hi,” the woman said. “I'm Emma Foster, from number 18.” She gestured to the house to the left of Prentice's, then stuck out her hand.
Prentice contained the instinct to bow and shook the offered hand instead.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, trying his best to minimize his accent. “My name is Prentice Endal.”
“Welcome,” Mrs. Foster smiled. “And this is Sophie,” she added, gesturing to the infant strapped to her chest.
Prentice's heart soared at the excuse to look closely at the tiny elf, his Moonlark.
“Suldreen,” Sophie said, and Prentice started. Mrs. Foster laughed. “I know,” she said, “she's very talkative already, most babies don't start to babble until four months, and she's already got half her name! Clever girl.” She smiled fondly at her daughter.
“Hello,” Cyrah's voice sounded from behind Prentice, and he turned to wave her forward.
“This is my wife, Cyrah,” Prentice said, “and our son, Wylie.” Wylie gave a shy wave from his half hiding place behind his mother. “This is Mrs. Foster and Sophie,” he added.
“Oh please, call me Emma,” she said. “It's lovely to meet you,” she told Cyrah, “and aren't you precious?” She added to Wylie, who ducked back behind Cyrah.
Cyrah smiled at the other woman and shook her offered hand. “It's nice to meet you too,” she said warmly, her accent a little thicker than Prentice's.
“Oh, I love your earrings!” Emma said. “Where did you get them?”
Cyrah reached up to tug lightly on her jewelry. “I made them,” she admitted.
Emma beamed at her. “Do you sell them?” She asked.
Cyrah blinked. “I--I did,” she said. “Where we used to live. But I confess I’m not sure how to go about it here.”
“Well I’d love to buy some if you do!” Emma exclaimed. “And I can help you find craft markets, if you like. There’s a wonderful farmers market on Saturdays that some of the local artisans come to, you’d fit right in.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Cyrah smiled. “I don’t have all of the supplies I used to, but maybe I’ll look into getting some new ones. It would be lovely to be able to make things again.”
“Just let me know!” Emma promised. “Anyway, I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself,” she said. “I’ll let you get back to unpacking, but don’t be afraid to drop by if you need anything!”
“That answers the question of what I’ll be doing here,” Cyrah murmured to Prentice as they watched Emma walk back to her own home. “Now we just have to find a job for you.”
*****
Prentice slipped the book out of his satchel and started the process of putting it into the library’s system. Working at the circulation desk had been one of the easier jobs to apply for when he had started looking, but he soon came to love the work. Books carried much less of the pollution present in many of the things that humans produced, and his role helping people learn and grow through reading gave him a sense of purpose even when there was no work for the Black Swan to be done. That the Moonlark also loved the library and frequently spent time there was an additional advantage.
He finished processing the book and ran his hands over its cover. Meditations for Overstimulation, it read, in soft silver letters. It had taken him the better part of a year to put together, reading all he could about human psychology and meditation practices, cross-referencing human knowledge with his own knowledge of telepathy techniques, and agonizing over how much advice he should impart, but he was happy with it, and both Tiergan and Forkle had given the final draft their approval.
While he understood why it had made sense to trigger Sophie’s telepathy a year ago, it had been heartbreaking to watch her struggle with the thoughts constantly assaulting her brain. She had just started public schooling, and he could see the exhaustion when she returned home every day, as well as the glazed, hurt look in her eyes when she could tell people weren’t being entirely honest with her. He suspected part of her love for the library was that there were not normally very many people about, and that her attachment to Wylie was that his thoughts were quiet to her.
Wylie, for his part, had thrived over the past six years. He was happy to act like a big brother to Sophie, and while Prentice and Cyrah had decided to homeschool him, he had taken some music and dance classes in the community and made some friends. While he still missed parts of the Lost Cities, he seemed genuinely happy, and Prentice couldn’t be more grateful for it.
Deciding he had delayed long enough, Prentice hefted the book and walked over to where the two children were currently studying. Sophie was engrossed in the encyclopedia sitting in front of her, her eyes scanning the pages at an impressive rate. Wylie sat with his head propped on one hand and a novel propped open with the other, his eyes drifting in and out of focus as he alternated between reading and daydreaming. A bowl of grapes sat on the table between them, and every so often one of their hands would dart out to pluck a couple before returning their focus to their reading.
Prentice cleared his throat lightly as he approached, and they both looked up. Sophie took a moment to focus on him, but then she smiled warmly. Wylie just raised his eyebrows questioningly at his father.
“We just got a new book in, and I thought it might interest you,” he told Sophie. “I’ve noticed that you sometimes seem overwhelmed when there are a lot of people or noise, and this book has some suggestions of mental exercises that can help with that.”
Sophie’s eyes gleamed in excitement for a moment before she contained her response, and her brow furrowed as she tugged at a loose eyelash.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Prentice assured her. “It’s a problem I had when I was younger, too, and a lot of other people have had. And you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, of course. I just thought you might like to see some suggestions.”
Warily, Sophie nodded and reached for the book. She peered at the cover for a long moment, brow still furrowed, then nodded. “I’ll give it a look,” she promised. “Thank you for thinking of me, Mr. Endal.”
“Of course,” Prentice said. “Book recommendations are part of my job, after all.” He winked and walked back to his desk, but caught a glimpse of a slight smile on Sophie’s face before he turned. He made himself focus on processing returned books for a while, but when he peeked over at Sophie again, he saw her with the book open, her eyes wide, and he hoped it would be enough.
*****
“Whoa, did you see that?”
Prentice stiffened in alarm as he heard Sophie’s shout through the open window.
“Uhh…” There was fear in Wylie’s voice.
Prentice rushed outside. “Is everything alright?” he asked, trying not to show any of his suspicions of what could have happened.
“Wylie glowed!” Sophie exclaimed. “We were running and suddenly there was all this blue light, and…whoa,” Sophie said.
Say that you thought you saw a flash, but weren’t sure Prentice transmitted to Wylie.
“Uhh, I thought there was a flash,” Wylie said. “But I’m not sure.”
“Light can do strange things sometimes,” Prentice said aloud, “especially for those who are already very sensitive. It was probably an odd reflection.”
Sophie frowned at him. “But it was blue ,” she repeated. She looked back at Wylie. “Maybe you’ll get superpowers!”
Prentice’s heart melted at the look of hopefulness on Sophie’s face, but he made himself laugh. “We’ll have to keep a close eye on you, I suppose,” he told Wylie.
“If it was a trick of the light, it might be a sign that your eyes are overstimulated,” Prentice told Sophie. “It might do you some good to lie down, or to meditate.”
Sophie sighed. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” she said reluctantly. She had taken much of the book’s teachings to heart, and Prentice had seen her look less and less overwhelmed over the past couple of years. She’d even asked him some questions about some of the techniques a few times, and Prentice had done his best to guide her through them.
Sophie’s gaze flicked back to Wylie. “You’ll tell me if you get superpowers though, right? I swear I’ll keep it a secret.”
Wylie looked uncomfortable, and Prentice cleared his throat. “Superpowers can be a very dangerous business,” he said sternly. “I’m not sure you know what you’re asking, young lady.”
That won him a reluctant smile, and she sighed. With a final pleading look at Wylie, Sophie turned and trudged back to her own house.
Prentice wrapped his arm around Wylie’s shoulders and guided him inside and down to their basement. The only part of their home with no windows, it was where they went to talk about sensitive subjects or to practice anything they couldn’t be seen doing.
“I’m sorry,” Wylie blurted out as soon as they were secure. “I didn’t mean to, it just happened--”
“I’m so proud of you,” Prentice said, cutting off his son’s explanation with a hug. “And your mother will be delighted.”
“But--”
“Hush,” Prentice insisted. “It wasn’t your fault. Living here has asked so much of you, and you have handled it so well, including just now. You realized you might have given something away, you stalled until I could get there, and then you followed my lead. Humans will believe what they want and expect, and they’ll dismiss the rest as an anomaly. I don’t think you’ve made any trouble, and even if you have, it’s for your mother and me to deal with, not you.”
Wylie’s arms tightened around him, and Prentice squeezed tight and then pushed back so he could see his son’s face.
“Now, let’s see it,” Prentice said, grinning. “Can you do it on purpose?”
Wylie’s face screwed up in concentration, and a pulse of blue light spiked out of him.
Prentice clapped in excitement.
Wylie continued to concentrate, but no further light came. He sagged.
Prentice chuckled. “It’s alright,” he assured him. “Control takes time. And your mother will know better how to help you when she gets home. Stay down here if you want to practice, alright? And take a break if you start feeling tired.”
“Yes, dad.” Wylie was beaming now, and Prentice smiled warmly at him. “I’m going to make a few calls,” he said. “I’ll come check on you in a bit.”
****
The doorbell rang, and Prentice blinked down at Sophie when he opened the door. “Hello,” he said.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Endal,” Sophie said, tugging out an eyelash. “I just wanted to make sure Wylie was still alright.”
“He is,” Prentice assured her. “Have you had any more problems?”
“No,” Sophie admitted. “Can I see him?” She asked.
Prentice considered. Tiergan was due any minute, and it would be better if Sophie were not here when he arrived. On the other hand, sating a little curiosity now could prevent it from festering, and they did not want Sophie’s curiosity festering at this stage. He was still making up his mind when he saw Tiergan materialize in the yard.
Tiergan’s eyes widened as he took in Sophie. Is that the Moonlark? He transmitted to Prentice.
Yes.
What luck. Tiergan smiled, but his eyes held Prentice’s questioningly. Unfortunately, before he could decide, Sophie noticed Prentice’s gaze and turned.
Tiergan made his way to the door and smiled at Sophie. “I’m Cyrah’s brother, Tiergan,” he told the girl.
“I’m Sophie,” she replied and stuck out her hand.
Tiergan shook it.
She’s the one you had to lie to earlier about the flash? Tiergan transmitted, though his eyes didn’t leave Sophie.
Yes.
I’d say she deserves some mallowmelt to make up for that. Tiergan’s eyes twinkled as he turned back to Prentice.
Exposing her to anything from the Lost Cities risks revealing ourselves too soon. Prentice insisted. And the lie was for her own good, if she knew the truth of it, or even enough to guess--
I know the lie was necessary, Tiergan conceded. But I still think she deserves some mallowmelt. I’ll say it’s a secret family recipe.
Prentice sighed, and Tiergan grinned.
Sophie looked curiously between them.
Now look what you’ve done , Prentice transmitted, shooting Tiergan a glare, though there was no actual heat behind it, and Tiergan grinned even wider behind Sophie’s back.
“Prentice keeps telling me I need to cut my hair,” Tiergan said to Sophie. “He gets all disappointed every time he sees me and it’s still long.”
“You’d look so much better with it cropped,” Prentice said, playing along.
Sophie’s look of concern faded and Prentice internally breathed a sigh of relief.
“Uncle Tiergan!” Wylie called, rushing to the door.
He hesitated when he noticed Sophie, but Tiergan pulled him into a hug before he had time to react any more than a brief, bewildered look. Tiergan ruffled his hair. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by with some-” he stumbled over his words as he processed Prentice’s quick transmission. “-buttercream pudding,” he finished.
Wylie hid his puzzlement well and smiled.
“Sophie came by to check on you,” Prentice explained. “To make sure you were still alright after earlier.” He turned to Sophie, “You’re welcome to stay to have some of the pudding, if you’d like.”
Sophie eyed him curiously and then looked at Wylie.
Wylie smiled. “I’m fine, really,” he said. “And anything Uncle Tiergan brings is always amazing.
“My nephew exaggerates,” Tiergan said, ruffling Wylie’s hair again. “But the pudding is quite good. It’s an old family recipe.”
“Alright,” Sophie said. “I don’t think I can stay very long, but I’d love to try it.”
Prentice moved aside and headed towards the kitchen, where he could hear Cyrah already getting out dishes and spoons.
Thank you. Tiergan sent him as he, Wylie, and Sophie filed into the house behind Prentice. For letting me meet her at last.
*****
Prentice started at the sudden pounding at the door. He opened it to see Sophie standing on the doorstep, and she barreled past him as soon as the door was open.
“What…?” Prentice began, his heart starting to race.
“I found someone else like you, and he said he's been looking for me, and I don’t know if I should trust him,” Sophie said in a rush.
Prentice’s eyebrows rose, and his mind began to race as well. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “What do you mean?” He asked.
Sophie glared at him. “You know perfectly well what I mean!”
“I don’t,” Prentice insisted. He held up a hand when Sophie’s glare deepened. “I do know part of what you’re referring to, but I really can’t talk about it unless you tell me exactly what happened.”
Sophie sagged.
Prentice glanced up towards the ceiling and sent a quick transmission, then guided Sophie into a chair.
“Now,” Prentice prompted, “What happened? From the beginning.”
“From the beginning is that you all have some kind of superpowers and so do I, I’ve just been being really nice and pretending I didn’t notice,” Sophie said.
Prentice sighed. “From the beginning, today ,” he amended.
Sophie huffed. “There was a boy at the museum, and he kept staring at me,” Sophie said. “He asked me if I was the girl from the paper, and when I said yes, he said he knew it, and then he told me to just trust him and go somewhere, and I tried to see what he was thinking and I couldn’t , and the only other person like that is Wylie most of the time, and you and Mrs. Endal when you don’t know I’m nearby, and I know you, but I don’t know this guy and--”
Prentice pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked back at her with a wry smile. “You are truly remarkable,” he said.
“I don’t want to be remarkable, I want to know what’s going on!”
“Sophie?” Wylie had come down the stairs and was looking curiously between the two of them.
Prentice gestured for him to take a seat. “It appears,” he said wryly, "that we have not been as careful as we hoped, on two counts,” he said. “One, Sophie has had some…suspicions…for quite a while that she has chosen to keep discreet, and two, someone else from the Lost Cities has apparently come snooping for her.”
There was a light knock, and the front door opened. Prentice tensed, but relaxed as he saw Tiergan walk in, with Cyrah not far behind him.
“Aha, I thought he might be one, too,” Sophie said.
Tiergan laughed. “Oh, so that’s what this is about.”
“Partially,” Prentice said. “But there is also someone else who seems to know who she is.”
“Which I still haven’t been told, by the way,” Sophie pointed out.
“Are we safe?” Cyrah asked. “All of us?”
“I don’t know yet,” Prentice admitted. “Sophie was just telling me about a boy who approached her.” He turned back to Sophie. “I know you’ve learned to shield your mind, but can you loosen those guards for me? Think very hard about the boy you saw and everything he said, and then try to push those thoughts towards me. Can you do that?”
Sophie frowned, but she closed her eyes, her face tensing up in concentration. A few moments later, Prentice saw the memory play in his own mind. He didn’t recognize the boy, but his eyes were an unmistakable shade of teal.
“Fitz Vacker,” Tiergan said aloud. “Alden and Della’s younger boy.”
“Did I just give that memory to all of you?” Sophie asked.
Tiergan smiled at her. “No,” he said, “I’m just very good at eavesdropping in Prentice’s mind, and it seemed expedient to do so, since I’d be more likely to recognize someone young.”
“So can everyone here read minds?” Sophie demanded.
“No,” Tiergan replied. “Only you, me, and Prentice. The others just know how to shield their thoughts to some degree.”
“Is that because Wylie can glow instead?” Sophie asked.
Wylie grinned at her. “Oh, I can do more than glow ,” he said.
“You can show off later,” Prentice interrupted, though not harshly. “But yes, Wylie can flash, as can Cyrah.”
“Fitz won’t mean you any harm,” Tiergan assured Sophie. “He’ll be reporting to his dad, who’s a decent sort.”
“He might mean us harm,” Prentice said, gesturing to himself and Cyrah. “But he’d turn us into the Council, not do anything himself.”
“And he’d have an eckodon of a time catching us,” Cyrah said.
Prentice grimaced. “That would depend on whom he brought to help.”
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, Prentice and Cyrah are here because they’re outlaws,” Tiergan told Sophie, who was eying the other two adults warily. “But only for knowing about you.”
Prentice inhaled sharply. “I…did a little more than just know about her,” he said.
“What did you do to me?” Sophie demanded. “Are you why I have superpowers?”
Prentice sighed. “You’re familiar with the concept of genetic engineering, yes?”
“I’m a mutant?!” Sophie exclaimed.
“You are a person , first and foremost,” Prentice said firmly. “You are an individual who is free to make your own choices. But yes, we-- the organization Tiergan and I are a part of-- modified your genes to give you more special abilities than our people usually have. But you would have had some of them anyway, because we--all of us in this room--aren’t humans, either.”
“I--how am I not human?” Sophie asked. “I’ve seen my birth certificate. Are my parents human?”
“Yes,” Prentice said. “The people you know as your parents are human, and your mother carried you, but you were implanted as an embryo. As far as your parents were concerned, it was a successful fertility treatment.”
“Then who are my real parents?” Sophie demanded. “Are you--”
“Your genetic parents,” Prentice stressed the word. “Are classified for their own and your protection.”
“Then who are you?” Sophie pressed.
“We’ve been keeping an eye on you, to make sure you stayed safe and your abilities didn’t cause you too much trouble or draw too much attention.”
Sophie scowled.
Prentice sighed. “We’re not perfect people, Sophie, and this wasn’t a perfect plan, but there are reasons we did it anyway. And letting you grow up thinking you were human, understanding human perspectives from the inside, was an important part of it. And I know there were times where that asked a lot of you, but I tried wherever I could to make it not too hard on you. Can you see that?”
Reluctantly, Sophie nodded. After a few moments she asked, “Are we aliens?”
Tiergan laughed aloud, and the others all hid smiles with varying degrees of success.
Prentice shot Tiergan a glare. “No,” he said firmly, “Though that’s as reasonable a guess as any from where you’re standing. But no, Sophie, we’re elves.”
“Elves?!” Sophie exclaimed. “Like--like in Lord of the Rings?”
Prentice smiled. “That is one of the closest representations I’ve encountered, yes, though it is still very flawed.”
Sophie stared at him. Prentice watched, resisting the urge to try to invade her mind as she processed everything he had said.
“And I’m just supposed to believe you?” Sophie asked after a while.
Prentice smiled wryly. “Is it so far-fetched, when you already know mind-reading is possible?” He asked.
Sophie frowned.
“But we can show you, if you like,” Prentice added. “The Lost Cities-- that’s what we call our part of the world-- are hidden away from human view, but we can take you there.”
Sophie blinked at him.
“We’d bring you right back afterward,” Tiergan said. “There are…preparations that should be made before you, before any of you, return to our world for the long term.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Sophie remarked.
Tiergan shrugged. “You won’t be in any danger, nor will Wylie, but certain parties responsible for you being here might be. But we all knew what we were getting into.”
Prentice snorted. “ We did.”
Cyrah backhanded his arm lightly. “I did too, and you know it, and we’re not having this argument again,” she said firmly. “I made my choice, and I wouldn’t take it back for the world.”
The two stared at each other for a long time, both of their faces softening.
“If Sophie’s visiting the Lost Cities,” Wylie asked quietly, “Could I--?”
Prentice took a deep breath and exchanged a glance with Cyrah and Tiergan. After a moment, both of them nodded.
“Yes,” Prentice said. “Cyrah and Tiergan will stay here, but the three of us will go. If Sophie agrees,” he added.
Sophie glanced uncertainly between the adults, but her gaze settled on Wylie’s hopeful face. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go with you.”
Wylie let out a soft whoop, and Prentice nodded gravely.
Tiergan pulled a pathfinder out of his pocket and held it up to the light.
“Nexuses first,” Prentice said, and he pulled out a small bracelet like the one Wylie always wore and held it out to Sophie. “We travel by light leaping,” he told her. “We become part of the beam of light and then reform on the other end. Mature elves can do this just by focusing, but in case we get separated or anything happens, it’s safest for you to have a nexus, which will do the focusing for you.”
Sophie eyed the bracelet warily but put it on.
“Now, I’ll pull us into the beam. It will probably feel very odd, but it is perfectly safe. And on the other side, we’ll be in…” he shot Tiergan a questioning look.
“Eternalia.”
Prentice nodded slowly. “That’s our capital city,” he told Sophie. “Doubtless it’ll be very busy, so we should be able to blend in. And I’ve got a crystal that will let us leap back here afterward. Alright?”
“Alright,” Sophie said uncertainly.
“Excellent,” Prentice said. “On three then, one, two, three,” he wrapped his arms around each of the two children’s shoulders and pulled them into the beam of light.
He felt Sophie stiffen, but then they were in the beam. She staggered as they landed, and Prentice braced her so that she didn’t fall over. Wylie wobbled slightly but recovered and stood, bouncing lightly up and down as he took in the view.
Sophie, too, was staring, the look on her face one of complete wonder as she took in the glittering jeweled buildings and sparkling crystal castles.
Prentice squeezed her shoulder warmly. “Welcome home, Sophie,” he said. “Welcome to the Lost Cities.”
