Blurry, fractured memories swam through Sophie's mind, but she couldn't piece them together. She tried opening her eyes and found only darkness. Something rough pressed against her wrists and ankles, refusing to let her move.
A wave of cold rushed through her as the horrifying realisation dawned.
She was a hostage.
A cloth across her lips stifled her cry for help, and a sedative's sweet aroma stung her nose when she inhaled, making her head spin.
Were they going to kill her?
Would the Black Swan really destroy their own creation?
What was the point of Project Moonlark, then? What was the point of the Everblaze?
The drug lulled her toward a dreamless oblivion, but she fought back--clinging to the one memory that could shine a tiny spot of light in the thick, inky haze. A pair of beautiful aquamarine eyes.
Fitz's eyes. Her first friend in her new life. Her first friend ever.
Maybe if she hadn't noticed him that day in the museum, none of this would have happened.
No. She knew it'd been too late even then. The white fires were already burning--curving toward her city and filling the sky with sticky, sweet smoke.
The spark before the blaze.
One
"Miss Foster!" Mr. Sweeney's nasal voice cut through Sophie's blaring music as he yanked her earbuds out by the cords. "Have you decided that you're too smart to pay attention to this information?"
Sophie forced her eyes open. She tried not to wince as the bright fluorescents reflected off the vivid blue walls of the museum, amplifying the throbbing headache she was hiding.
"No, Mr. Sweeney," she mumbled, shrinking under the glares of her now staring classmates.
She pulled her shoulder-length blond hair around her face, wishing she could hide behind it. This was exactly the kind of attention she went out of her way to avoid. Why she wore dull colors and lurked at the back, blocked by the other kids who were at least a foot taller than her. It was the only way to survive as a twelve-year-old highschool senior.
"Then perhaps you can explain why you were listening to your iPod instead of following along?" Mr. Sweeney held up her earbuds like they were evidence in a crime. Though to him, they probably were. He'd dragged Sophie's class to the Natural History Museum in Balboa Park, assuming his students would be excited about the all-day field trip. He didn't seem to realise that unless the giant dinosaur replicas came to life and started eating people, no one cared.
Sophie tugged out a loose eyelash--a nervous habit--and stared at her feet. There was so way to make Mr. Sweeney understand why she needed the music to cancel the noise. He couldn't even hear the noise.
Chatter from dozens of tourists echoed off the fossil-lined walls and splashed around the cancerous room. But their mental voices were the real problem.
Scattered, disconnected pieces of thoughts broadcast straight into Sophie's brain--like being in a room with hundreds of TVs blaring different shows at the same time. They sliced into her consciousness, leaving sharp pains in their wake.
She was a freak.
It'd been her secret--her burden--since she fell and hit her head when she was five years old. She'd tried blocking the noise. Tried ignoring it. Nothing helped. And she could never tell anyone. They wouldn't understand.
"Since you've decided you're above this lecture, why don't you give it?" Mr. Sweeney asked. He pointed to the enormous orange dinosaur with a duckbill in the center of the room. "Explain to the class how the Lambeosaurus differs from the other dinosaurs we've studied."
Sophie repressed a sigh.
