sit back down and unload everything—and made Sophie resent Oralie even more. Especially since it was only a matter of time before she’d have to lie to Edaline to protect Oralie’s secrets.
“What’s this for?” Edaline asked when Sophie turned back and threw her arms around her.
“Because I know it’s not easy being my mom—”
“Wrong,” Edaline interrupted, leaning back to meet Sophie’s eyes. “I’ll admit, the abundance of near-death experiences can be a bit stressful—but being your mom is easy.”
“Really?” Sophie whispered, blinking back tears.
She didn’t like to think about how it felt growing up hearing her human parents’ thoughts all the time, knowing how much they struggled to understand her. And it was even worse realizing how easily Oralie had cast her aside, as if having a daughter were just some item she’d checked off her to-do list.
“Really,” Edaline promised, kissing Sophie’s cheek. “You’re the single greatest gift I’ve ever been given, Sophie. And I’m so incredibly grateful that you trust me enough to be my daughter. I love you so much—and I always will. No matter what.”
“I love you too.” Sophie buried her face in Edaline’s hair and wished she could stay like that and never let go.
But she had work to do, so she forced herself to drop her arms and stand, promising one more time, “I’ll be careful, Mom.”
She didn’t use that title for Edaline very often—but she should.
“I know you will,” Edaline assured her. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Sophie changed quickly, pulling her hair into a simple ponytail and stuffing her pockets with weapons before making her way to the stairs.
“You’re not going to use the Leapmaster?” Edaline asked when Sophie started going down instead of up. “I thought you might be heading somewhere we have a crystal for.”
“I am,” Sophie agreed, deciding to give her mom that tiny clue. “But I need to practice my teleporting.”
Sandor groaned as he followed. “You’re really going to make us jump off a cliff when we could light leap?”
Sophie shook her head. “Not this time. All you’ll have to do is run beside me.”
Or she hoped that was how it would work.
She wasn’t 100 percent certain, since the times she’d teleported the other way, she’d either been alone or carrying somebody.
But they were about to find out.
She pulled open the front door and studied Havenfield’s pastures. Most of the longer paths went uphill, but the one that led to the cliffs stayed mostly flat, which would hopefully make it easier to build up momentum—and if it didn’t work, they could always change plans and jump off the edge.
“Okay,” she said, reaching for Sandor with one hand and Flori with the other. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to rally her concentration. “Here goes nothing.”
* * *
“For the record,” Sandor grumbled as they struggled to stop their sprint, “that was worse than jumping off a cliff.”
Sophie disagreed—though she also wasn’t sure if she knew exactly what had happened.
One second she’d been running—channeling energy to her legs to go faster, faster, faster. Then Sandor and Flori had started to lag behind, so she’d tightened her grip and pushed herself even harder. Next thing she knew, her feet were barely touching the ground, and Sandor and Flori were half floating, half flailing as she dragged them into the void.
Then she pictured Candleshade, and they were there, stumbling along the overgrown path that led to the main entrance.
“I thought it was exhilarating,” Flori breathed. “Such a special glimpse of the moonlark’s strength and power.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sophie mumbled, bending to lower her head between her knees.
Now that she’d stopped running, everything was spinning and her lungs felt like they were going to explode.
“I do,” Flori insisted. “You carried both of us as though we were dandelion seeds caught on a breeze. And while I may be small, Sandor definitely isn’t.”
Sandor straightened to his full height, and Sophie had to admit that it was kind of amazing that she’d been able to drag him along so easily. Her arms didn’t even feel sore—though that might change once the adrenaline wore off.
“Impressive or not,” Sandor said, arching his back into a stretch, “I prefer free-falling. Particularly since it encourages you to limit the ability to absolute necessity.”
“What he means,” Flori told Sophie, “is he doesn’t like that you can now go anywhere, anytime, without needing one of your crystals, or a cliff, or me to sing to the roots to carry you. All you need is a bit of