Read Online Exile (Keeper of the Lost Cities) by Shannon Messenger - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shannon Messenger
Ads: Link
for Sophie’s hand. “Are you sure? Seeing Brant is the most upsetting part of this whole process.”
More upsetting than visiting their daughter’s grave?
“Brant’s not himself anymore,” Grady said, like he knew what she was thinking. “It’s not easy to see him so . . . broken.”
His face was as haunted as his tone, and Edaline looked just as pale.
“I go where you go,” she told them, sounding like Sandor—minus the squeaky voice. She hadn’t been much help to them at Jolie’s grave, but she wasn’t letting them do this alone. Not anymore.
Not ever again.
“AN ELF LIVES HERE ?” SOPHIE couldn’t help asking as the scenery came into focus.
Everything she’d seen in the elvin world was enormous andmade of jewels or crystal or glass, with elaborate architecture and gold or silver accents.
The square, windowless stone structure in front of them looked more like it belonged to a human. A poor, reclusive human, with ugly taste in houses.
Edaline fidgeted with the velvet satchel clutched in her white-knuckled hands. “We had to move Brant somewhere he felt safe.”
The house didn’t look “safe.” It looked cold and bleak. Even the land around it was nothing but jagged rocks and dark, dusty soil.
“Brant’s afraid of fire now, as I’m sure you can understand,” Grady said quietly. “He couldn’t sleep until we found him somewhere that wouldn’t burn. All his furnishings are fireproof—we even have his clothes specially made.”
“What about his family? Don’t they help you guys take care of him?”
Grady shifted uncomfortably, and Edaline’s eyes dropped to the ground.
“It’s . . . dangerous for them—not that Brant’s dangerous. He barely moves. Just stares at the wall, mumbling to himself. But the guilt . . .” Edaline’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before she whispered, “The guilt could break them apart.”
Grady took Edaline’s hand. “There’s a reason violence and cruelty are unheard of in our world, Sophie. Our mindsaren’t capable of processing the guilt that comes with such atrocities—or they aren’t supposed to be, at least. It’s why no one suspected kidnapping when you and Dex vanished. Why no one wanted to believe that the Everblaze was burning. Because if one of us were to do something like that, the guilt would splinter our minds and let the darkness seep through the cracks.”
“But why would Brant’s parents feel guilty?” Alden had told her the fire was an accident.
“They shouldn’t . But guilt is an insidious thing—especially mixed with severe grief. It slips inside, casting doubt, making you wonder if there was anything you could have done, anything that would have changed . . .” Grady stared into the distance, and Sophie wondered if Brant’s parents weren’t the only ones wrestling with guilt.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said quietly.
“I know.” The anger in his tone was unmistakable, and he didn’t look at her as he walked away. But he’d only gone a few steps when he spun back to face her. “Before we go inside, you have to promise that you will not—under any circumstances—try to read Brant’s mind.”
“I know the rules of telepathy.” Telepaths had their own code of ethics to follow, rule number one of which was Never read a mind without permission .
“It’s more than that. Brant’s sanity cracked during the fire. Watching the house burn, knowing Jolie was inside, knowinghe couldn’t save her—it was too much.” Grady’s voice vanished for a second and he had to swallow to bring it back. “The trauma and guilt broke part of him. He’s not completely catatonic, like someone whose sanity is shattered . But reading Brant’s mind is extremely dangerous. Promise me you will not open your mind to his thoughts.”
“I promise.”
He stared her down, like he was searching for the truth in her words. Then he nodded, turned back toward the gray stone house, and climbed the
More upsetting than visiting their daughter’s grave?
“Brant’s not himself anymore,” Grady said, like he knew what she was thinking. “It’s not easy to see him so . . . broken.”
His face was as haunted as his tone, and Edaline looked just as pale.
“I go where you go,” she told them, sounding like Sandor—minus the squeaky voice. She hadn’t been much help to them at Jolie’s grave, but she wasn’t letting them do this alone. Not anymore.
Not ever again.
“AN ELF LIVES HERE ?” SOPHIE couldn’t help asking as the scenery came into focus.
Everything she’d seen in the elvin world was enormous andmade of jewels or crystal or glass, with elaborate architecture and gold or silver accents.
The square, windowless stone structure in front of them looked more like it belonged to a human. A poor, reclusive human, with ugly taste in houses.
Edaline fidgeted with the velvet satchel clutched in her white-knuckled hands. “We had to move Brant somewhere he felt safe.”
The house didn’t look “safe.” It looked cold and bleak. Even the land around it was nothing but jagged rocks and dark, dusty soil.
“Brant’s afraid of fire now, as I’m sure you can understand,” Grady said quietly. “He couldn’t sleep until we found him somewhere that wouldn’t burn. All his furnishings are fireproof—we even have his clothes specially made.”
“What about his family? Don’t they help you guys take care of him?”
Grady shifted uncomfortably, and Edaline’s eyes dropped to the ground.
“It’s . . . dangerous for them—not that Brant’s dangerous. He barely moves. Just stares at the wall, mumbling to himself. But the guilt . . .” Edaline’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before she whispered, “The guilt could break them apart.”
Grady took Edaline’s hand. “There’s a reason violence and cruelty are unheard of in our world, Sophie. Our mindsaren’t capable of processing the guilt that comes with such atrocities—or they aren’t supposed to be, at least. It’s why no one suspected kidnapping when you and Dex vanished. Why no one wanted to believe that the Everblaze was burning. Because if one of us were to do something like that, the guilt would splinter our minds and let the darkness seep through the cracks.”
“But why would Brant’s parents feel guilty?” Alden had told her the fire was an accident.
“They shouldn’t . But guilt is an insidious thing—especially mixed with severe grief. It slips inside, casting doubt, making you wonder if there was anything you could have done, anything that would have changed . . .” Grady stared into the distance, and Sophie wondered if Brant’s parents weren’t the only ones wrestling with guilt.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said quietly.
“I know.” The anger in his tone was unmistakable, and he didn’t look at her as he walked away. But he’d only gone a few steps when he spun back to face her. “Before we go inside, you have to promise that you will not—under any circumstances—try to read Brant’s mind.”
“I know the rules of telepathy.” Telepaths had their own code of ethics to follow, rule number one of which was Never read a mind without permission .
“It’s more than that. Brant’s sanity cracked during the fire. Watching the house burn, knowing Jolie was inside, knowinghe couldn’t save her—it was too much.” Grady’s voice vanished for a second and he had to swallow to bring it back. “The trauma and guilt broke part of him. He’s not completely catatonic, like someone whose sanity is shattered . But reading Brant’s mind is extremely dangerous. Promise me you will not open your mind to his thoughts.”
“I promise.”
He stared her down, like he was searching for the truth in her words. Then he nodded, turned back toward the gray stone house, and climbed the
Similar Books
