Keeper of the Lost Secrets

CHAPTER ONE: In which I Realise Humans are not the Only Incompetent Beings

I sat on a bench in the crowded museum. People flocked to displays, the constant chatter of children and adults more of an earache than the annoying customer he'd met at McDonalds. I blocked the thoughts echoing in my head and kept my eyes open for any elfy-looking people. Meaning, anyone who looked like they went to the salon every day and used three tubs of foundation for a walk in the park.

I opened a newspaper I'd picked up earlier. The sound of the thin paper crinkling was the only thing I wanted to hear. I closed in again in surprise. The front cover... That's why I had picked it up to begin with.

In black and white was a picture of a girl, smiling widely, but her sleepy eyes gave her away. She had straight, smooth light hair that covered the sides of her face. Thinned-out eyelashes framed her dark, reflective eyes. Could she be...

The title blared in bold on the page: CHILD PRODIGY CHOOSES CITY COLLEGE OVER IVY LEAGUE – and an obviously placed exclamation mark at the end. I studied the picture. Sophie Foster. The name rang a bell to me, and so did the girl. She might have looked tired now, but I remembered a girl – likely the same – I tracked four years ago. My totally competent twelve-year-old self went back to my father, defeated, after finding out about her brown eyes.

I hummed some more, a habit I had picked up from my mother. And look, I'm a lot of things. Smart, kind, modest (though Biana disagrees, but let's not dwell on that). Skilled telepath fell into that list, but even I couldn't block my own thoughts – though that was on my to-do list, right below finding an elf girl we're hopeful exists.

Being clever was nice and all, sure, but that didn't mean not going to Foxfire so much didn't have a toll on me.

"It'll pay off in the end, I promise." My father insisted. "Just a couple more months. I can feel it this time." Alden Vacker smiled at me pitifully, and closed his office door, leaving annoyed, thirteen-year-old me bored enough to bake, which was the only thing in my life that had a good payoff.

I flipped the page and turned to an article about fires all across San Diego. I hummed and shook my head. Humans and their pollution, I thought. I wondered which angry person let a matchstick do the work.

I titled my head up, and leaned back, my back aching from my posture, and caught eyes with a girl, a couple years younger than me, staring at me. She had the same shoulder-length hair, the same sleepy eyes, and the same face as the girl in the picture. I smiled at her and pointed to the newspaper cover. My smile dropped momentarily upon noticing her brown eyes, with specks of gold hidden in them – and I hoped that wasn't the only thing she was hiding.

"Is this you?" I spoke. She looked shocked at my question. I smiled wider and straightened up a bit, as if I wasn't already feeling guilty for my posture.

She nodded, a curious expression on her face, as if she were judging my every move. Luckily, I was used to being under scrutiny (though, I phrased it like that to my father, he would have more than a few words to say to me).

"I thought so." I muttered, squinting at her eyes in the picture, then back at the girl. "I didn't realise your eyes were brown."

Sophie looked confused, squinting her brown eyes at me. My heart dropped to my chest. Had I deterred her away from me?

"Uh... yeah," she said, staring at me with a peculiar expression on her face. "Why?"

I shrugged, wishing I hadn't asked the question. "No reason." Her every word made me cringe internally. I was used to touring around the world, and meeting people with many accents and languages (Word of advice? Don't anger an Indian bus driver, the swearing isn't worth the 10% price decrease), but the American accent was one I'd never get used to.

"Are you in this class?" She asked, and flinched as she said the question. No, but I should be in another one, I thought bitterly. I quickly put on a smile.

"No." I said. Sophie looked around the museum and took a step back absentmindedly. I turned from her for a second, so sure I had seen a funky chicken, and locked eyes with a funny creature. With its large mouth, sharp, pointy teeth, and comically short hands, it looked like something straight out of an action-adventure show. "Tell me something," I said, Sophie latching eyes with mine. "Do you really  think what they looked like? It's a little absurd, don't you think?"

Sophie stared at me, lifting her eyebrow, and tilting her head down slightly. "Not really,"

I smiled. I'd never not find it funny how humans stupidly believe everyone with the ability to type on the rectangle brick things – phones if I remembered correctly – and let them dictate their beliefs.

"Why?" She asked me, as a second thought. "What do you think they looked like?"

I laughed. Completely differently, I thought to myself, and certainly not like they were straight out of visual human literature. The more I looked at Sophie, it seemed less and less like she was an elf. Brown eyes? Really? And I was sure this was the same Sophie I had chased a few years ago (Another newsworthy story, really, but now isn't the time). I let my mind take a mental image of her and smile at her.

"Never mind. I'll let you get back to your class. It was nice to meet you, Sophie." I smiled politely He got up from my seat and turned to leave. I sighed, and dropped his blocking, not seeing too many people around me. I took a step back, flinching as millions of thoughts, each like a shooting star zipping through space, filled my head, bouncing off the walls of my mind. I groaned. I turned around momentarily, and saw Sophie react too. She rubbed her temples and flinched. I gasped perhaps a little too loudly. My eyes widened in realisation. She locked eyes with me, her mind looking as if it were trying to connect a complicated puzzle.

"Who are you?" She whispered, trembling slightly.

"You did – Didn't you?" I took a step toward her, and it felt like a huge burden had been taken off my shoulders. I lowered my voice. "Are you a telepath?"

Her eyes blinked a little too fast, and the corners of her mouth moved in a flash. "You are! I can't believe it!" I smiled so widely that my jaw hurt. My eyes looked to Sophie, and she looked scared. "It's okay, you don't have to be afraid. I'm one too."

I stood completely still, and I wondered if I should tap her to make sure she was okay but decided against the idea.

"My name is Fitz." I added, coming closer to her. Her face flashed to one of confusion. She looked me up and down, as if she were Lady Galvin judging... everything.

"I'm not joking," I said softly.

Sophie looked dazed. Her eyes looked around the room, but she had no idea what she was looking at. Her arms dropped lazily by her side, and she wobbled on her feet.

I grabbed her arm, without thought, gripping as tight as I could. "It's okay, Sophie." I smiled a little. "I'm here to help you. We've been looking for you for twelve years." A picture of my father, smiling pitifully, filled my mind. I tried to get the image out of my head.

Sophie, on the other hand, looked as if she were going to faint. Her breathing became quicker and shallower. Her feet wobbled again, but I held her steady. She grunted and jerked away from me, bolting for the door.

"No, no, no," I said to myself quietly. "Not after so long." I ran behind her, blocking the chatter of thoughts from people on the street. My feet were unsteady at first (Being surrounded by toddler humans does that to you). I heaved from the poor air quality and bolted down the tall stairs and wide fountain, only one thing on my mind: Sophie.

"Wait!" I panted. "You don't have to be afraid."

I was about the length of three cars away from her, but I was gaining speed. I kept my eyes on both Sophie and the ground, making sure not to lose sight of her and not to trip over loose pavers.

I kept running forward, but gasped as Sophie took a sharp right turn into the road. And I wasn't too confident on human systems – but I was sure that one had to look right and left before crossing – and Sophie hadn't. A car, a small, unstable human vehicle, screeched its wheels, and past the reflection of light on the glass front window, I could see a terrified driver leaning all the way back, his hands still gripping on the wheel. I hadn't read her mind, but I knew we both thought the same thing: Sophie was going to die.