“Maybe the ability reset amped up some of your skills, too?” Keefe suggested. “And your channeling is stronger now?”
“Maybe,” Sophie agreed, not sure if she liked that idea.
Obviously, the stronger she was the better, but…
She was starting to feel like she was losing control of her own body, between the new enhancing gadgets and the extra layers of gloves—and pockets full of even more backup gloves—and the fact that she still had no idea how her inflicting worked.
“Don’t worry about Sandor,” Keefe told her, probably misunderstanding her mood shift. “Unlike my bodyguard, he’s not one for revenge. You just have a lot of lectures in your future.”
“Probably,” Sophie said, trying not to think about the last thing Sandor had shouted before she’d cracked the sky and slipped into the void.
If something happens to you or your friends, you’re going to have to live with it!
“Anyway,” she said, choking down the bile on her tongue, “we should head out.”
They’d be fine.
This was just a quick trip.
They were being spontaneous.
Spontaneous. Spontaneous. Spontaneous.
“I’m sure Sandor’s guessed where I’m going and woken Grady and Edaline by now,” she added, squinting at the dark silhouette of the Shores of Solace, half expecting lights to flare and shouting to erupt any second.
“What about Fitz?” Keefe asked, and Sophie could’ve smacked herself.
Had she seriously forgotten about her boyfriend again?
“I’m here,” Fitz’s accented voice whispered from somewhere over by the sand, and Sophie was glad the darkness hid her embarrassment from him. “Sorry to be a little late.”
“Problems getting past Grizel?” Keefe asked.
“Nah, she was easy. I made it sound like I was sneaking off to talk to Sophie about something, and she agreed that we could use a little snuggle time.”
No one seemed to know what to say to that.
Fitz cleared his throat. “Biana’s the one who slowed me down. She cornered me with a billion questions, and I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she’s about to appear with a ‘TA-DA! I followed you!’ ”
She didn’t.
“Well, that’s good,” Fitz said. “Does that mean we’re ready?”
“I think so.” Sophie took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Will you do the levitating, Fitz?”
She wasn’t sure how long her energy was going to hold, so she needed to conserve it. Plus, after the weirdness with her channeling, there was a chance she’d blast them all the way up to the Point of Purity or something.
“Of course,” he told her. “Happy to be needed.”
There was no chiding subtext to his tone—but Sophie still felt her cheeks burn when she thought about how little she’d relied on Fitz lately.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she took his hand, holding her breath for the first few seconds, wondering if Dex’s gadgets—and the three pairs of gloves she was wearing—would do their job.
They did for Fitz.
Not so much for Keefe—though he assured her the effect wasn’t a problem.
“Do you think Mr. Forkle’s right?” she asked as Fitz floated the three of them off the ground, fast enough to make her stomach lurch. “Did that green breeze you sent me during the reset change our connection, and that’s why you’re so sensitive to my enhancing now?”
“I guess it’s possible,” Keefe admitted.
“What green breeze?” Fitz asked.
“Just an Empath trick,” Keefe told him. “Nothing special.”
Sophie was pretty sure it had been special—but she stopped herself from saying that. Because Fitz had helped her that day too. And even though she couldn’t remember anything specific about it, she knew he’d done everything he could to guide her through.
“I do think Forkle’s right about you being able to control the ability, though,” Keefe added quietly. “I mean, I’m sure all of his ‘journeys of self-discovery’ stuff made you want to throw things at his head—”
“Yep,” Sophie agreed.
“But, I don’t think you have to be all deep and fancy-pants about it. I bet if you just treat it like solving one more Foster Mystery, you’ll figure it out.”
“Okay, but how?” Sophie countered.
“I think it’s mostly about finding the source,” Fitz told her. “Following the power in your fingertips to the reserves it’s coming from and building some sort of… inner barrier that you can raise and lower whenever you want. Setting boundaries for yourself, if that makes sense.”
“It does and it doesn’t,” Sophie hedged.
Several long seconds passed before Keefe told her, “See, I think it’s simpler than that. I think the boundaries are already there and you just need to start bossing your abilities around. Think of it like… leading Team Awesome!”
“Team Valiant,” Sophie corrected.
“Nope, I’m now officially naming your abilities Team Awesome,” Keefe decided. “And it’s time for you to show them you’re their Lady Fos-Boss.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “You can’t boss an ability around.”
“Oh, I think you can, I think you can.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Sophie told him.
“Neither do I,” Fitz agreed. “But more important, I’m pretty sure we’re high enough now, and it’s not exactly easy keeping us steady with all of this wind, so… think we can get to the teleporting part of this journey?”
Sophie stared at the glints of moonlight reflecting off the ocean far below, realizing this was one of those turning-point moments—the kind that could all too easily end up being something they’d look back on and think, That’s where it all went wrong.
“Before we do this,” she said, clearing the catch out of her throat, “I need you to promise me, Keefe, that you’ll remember why we’re there. I’m bringing you to London to see if it triggers your memories—not to go Neverseen hunting. So if we find a crystal to a hidden path, we’re not using it.”
“But—”
“We’re not using it,” Sophie repeated. “We’re being spontaneous—not insane. Promise me you understand that.”
It got really, really quiet.
“In case it matters,” Fitz murmured, “I understand. And I promise.”
More silence.
“I mean it, Keefe,” Sophie told him. “Tonight is about investigating only—not taking dangerous risks. If you won’t promise that—and mean it—then I’m having Fitz set us back down.”
Keefe sighed. “Fine, I promise.”
“And mean it,” Sophie emphasized. “Convince me that I can trust you.”
“You can trust me, Foster,” Keefe assured her, tightening his grip on her hand. “I know I’ve made huge mistakes in the past, but I’m trying to learn from them—and the last thing I ever want to do is let you down. Okay?”
Nothing about what they were doing felt okay anymore.
But… she believed him.
And they’d come this far.
Please don’t let this be a mistake, Sophie thought, sending the plea to every star twinkling around them before she told Fitz, “Drop us!” and they plummeted into the void.
* * *
The time on Big Ben said 11:11 p.m., which probably meant that London was somehow on the same time zone as the Lost Cities—something Sophie would have to put more thought into later.
At the moment, her focus was on staying out of sight.
London was busier than she’d been expecting at such a late hour—a steady stream of cars and buses on the roads, pedestrians wandering every shadowed sidewalk—and while Sophie had managed to swipe Grady’s obscurer before she left, their little group still felt very exposed.
It didn’t help that their clothes stood out a lot more than Sophie had wanted. She’d tried her best—her magenta jacket and white ruffled tunic didn’t look that different from the
coats and shirts that some of the humans were wearing, and she’d layered different socks over her leggings to try to make the layered gloves on her hands seem like a fashion statement. But she’d decided to wear her cape, thinking its warmth might come in handy given London’s reputation for cold, foggy weather. And Fitz and Keefe looked like boy princes in their capes and embroidered jerkins.
“We have to stay together,” Sophie reminded Keefe, pulling him back to her side when he tried to head toward what might’ve been Westminster Abbey—she wasn’t sure. She was still getting her bearings, trying to match the famous landmarks in front of her—each lit with a warm, golden light against the night sky—with the pictures she’d seen in human books and the photo they’d seen of Keefe’s mom.
“Then come with me,” Keefe told her. “The point is for me to wander around, right?”
“It is—but I didn’t know it was going to be so crowded, so we need to figure out a strategy,” Sophie warned. “It’s not going to be easy moving as a group of three without bumping into anybody—and don’t step into the street unless I tell you it’s safe,” she added, jerking him to a stop as he moved toward the crosswalk. “There are all sorts of rules about when it is and isn’t your turn, and if you don’t follow them…”
She didn’t say any more, certain he remembered Ethan and Eleanor’s obituary.
“Fine, but can we please get moving?” Keefe asked, and the frantic edge to his voice made him sound a lot more like he had earlier. He trailed his hand along the iron fence and narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to concentrate on the feel of the metal. Or maybe he was taking in all of the nearby sounds. “Nothing’s familiar here. I need to find something familiar.”
“You’re going the wrong way,” Fitz told him, pulling something crumpled out of his pocket.
It took Sophie a second to realize he’d brought the photograph of Lady Gisela—and it was hard not to hug him for thinking of that.
He pointed to the parliament building. “This is what your mom was standing in front of. It’s just hard to tell which part of the building specifically, since it all kind of looks the same—and the clock is so huge that you can see it from lots of angles. Hmm.”
He held up the photo and waved it around, like he was trying to piece it into a puzzle.
“Okay, but none of this is triggering any memories. Even the smell isn’t familiar.” Keefe sucked in a deep breath through his nose, coughing in the process.
“Yeah, the air here’s really thick,” Fitz said, crinkling his nose, “between the fog and the pollution and that weird damp smell. Are we near a river?”
“The Thames,” Sophie agreed, pointing to the lights on the bridge ahead, which happened to be the same direction that Keefe’s mom had been looking in the picture. “That might be a good way to go,” she told Keefe, “since you can see a lot from the river, like the London Eye and the Tower Bridge and the Tower of London and—”
“A river doesn’t sound familiar,” Keefe interrupted. “What about the library? Which way do we go to find that?”
“I… don’t know,” Sophie admitted. “I’ve never been there before—or seen pictures.”
And she hadn’t bothered to look it up before they’d left, because she hadn’t planned on walking that far.
Fifty minutes.
At night.
Just the three of them.
That would be a little too much spontaneity.
And they couldn’t take the Tube. Not dressed the way they were—and not without knowing what stop they’d need to take. Plus, they didn’t have any money to buy tickets, or a handy Technopath to help them make a birth fund withdrawal.
More important, though…
What happened if she brought Keefe to the scene of the accident and something about it felt familiar?
That was a kind of truth that there would be no going back from.
She hadn’t considered that when she’d offered to bring Keefe to London—hadn’t realized this little visit could make everything So. Much. Worse for him.
“Think we can ask someone for directions?” Keefe wondered.
Sophie shook her head a little too vigorously. “We can’t let anyone see us.”
“Why not?” Keefe argued. “You bought gelato in Florence! And you bought those super-dry biscuits with Dex!”
“I know, but…” She tried to think of a good excuse, and the best she could come up with was “We’re already taking enough risks. No bodyguards. Elvin clothes. Zero preparation. Dark streets with too many shadows—and we know the Neverseen come here. I don’t think we should add anything else to the mix.”
“Fine,” Keefe said, running a hand down his face. “We’ll just… start walking and hope we see a sign or something.”
“I think we should start by figuring out what your mom was looking at,” Fitz told him, locking his knees so Keefe couldn’t drag their group forward. “Once we start wandering, we might never find our way back here.”
“I agree,” Sophie said, jumping on any excuse to keep Keefe away from the library. “We need to know if there’s a hidden path.”
“Why?” Keefe demanded. “You already said we’re not going to follow it. And Forkle’s going to look for it later. And let’s not forget that there’s a chance Sandor’s let him know we snuck off—and if he has, I’m sure Forkle will guess we came here. So we want to get as far from this place as possible, so he can’t haul us back home before we’re ready.”
“But what if it’s not a hidden path?” Fitz countered, dragging Keefe and Sophie down the sidewalk. “Knowing might be important. Come on—it’ll only take a few minutes to find it.”
But it took them ten minutes just to find the exact spot where Lady Gisela had been standing.
Then the real work began.
And with each passing minute, Keefe got antsier and antsier.
“It’s hard to tell,” Fitz said, squinting in the same direction that Lady Gisela was looking in the photograph. “I think it might have something to do with that sign for the Underground, but… I don’t know.”
“Maybe,” Sophie agreed. “They could probably hide something pretty easily in all of that wrought iron. Though… would the beam of light really be able to reach her all the way over here? Seems like the crystal would have to be closer, wouldn’t it?”
“Probably true,” Fitz admitted, “unless the crystal’s up high and angled to hit a pretty strong beam of sunlight.”
“I guess,” Sophie said. “But this is London. It doesn’t get that many bright sunny days, so it seems like they’d have a lot of times when their path wasn’t usable.”
Keefe paced around the limited space covered by their obscurer. “Why are we still here? None of this is familiar.”
“That’s good, though, isn’t it?” Sophie asked, keeping her voice extra chipper. “If you’ve never been here, then—”
“Then I still have no idea where I actually went,” Keefe cut in, “or what I did. I thought that’s why we came here—you said this was about triggering my memories.”
“I know. Just… give us a few more minutes,” Sophie pleaded. It was now 11:39. If she could stall the wandering a little bit longer—like, maybe until 11:45—they’d definitely have no time to get anywhere near the library, because she was planning to use midnight as the “we need to get home and face the consequences of our actions” handy cutoff, but Keefe would still get fifteen solid minutes of exploring time. “I promise, we’ll—”
“Wait,” Fitz interrupted, placing a hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “Did something just sparkle in that metal piece under the light bulb of the streetlamp?”
Sophie followed the angle of his stare, which did look similar to the angle that Lady Gisela’s head had been tilted in the photograph.
And there did seem to be something glittering where he was pointing—but it was hard to tell with it being so dark.
“I guess it’d make sense to build the path into a streetlamp,” she realized. “That w
ay it’s still usable on a rainy day. Maybe that’s why they chose the lantern in Paris, too.”
“Oh, that’s true,” Fitz said. “I didn’t think of that. I’m going to levitate up there and check.”
Sophie tightened her grip on his hand. “You can’t. We only have one obscurer—and people would definitely notice a cute guy in a cape flying up to the top of the streetlamp.”
“So what you’re saying is… you think I’m cute,” Fitz noted with a grin.
Keefe groaned. “If you guys go Fitzphie on me right now, I swear, I’ll drag us all into the river.”
“Or how about I levitate us up to the top of the streetlamp and we check for a hidden crystal?” Fitz countered.
“There’s no need,” a familiar voice informed them—a voice that made Sophie want to scream or hide or find something really sharp to fling.
But she did none of those things.
Neither did Keefe or Fitz.
They simply stared in fascinated horror at the black-cloaked figure striding through the middle of the street, making all the cars honk and swerve around them.
“Congratulations!” Lady Gisela shouted, tossing back her hood. A net of beaded silver covered her immaculate blond updo—probably some gadget meant to block abilities—and her ice blue eyes studied her son with the strangest mix of delight and disdain as she added, “You found what you were looking for!”
THIRTY-FIVE
A THOUSAND THOUGHTS SCREAMED THROUGH SOPHIE’S head.
Strategies.
Problems.
Solutions.
But one word clawed its way to the front of the chaos.
Inflict.
This was why she’d reset her abilities.
The thing Lady Gisela wasn’t prepared for.
Their chance for escape—for victory!
Inflict. Inflict. Inflict.
But when Sophie dived into her rage and terror, the darkness didn’t boil over.
It stayed deep in her mind, stewing and brewing—waiting for… something.
Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8) Page 48