Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8)

by Shannon Messenger

  “We accomplished some of it,” Sophie argued.

  “Yeah, we found their hidden path,” Fitz added.

  And if Lady Gisela was to be believed, they’d also gotten an answer to whether or not Keefe was involved in what happened with the accident—though Sophie was still holding out hope that his mom had been playing one of her mind games in that moment.

  “We also learned that Lady Gisela’s planning something for Keefe soon,” Sophie added. “And that Tam’s warning about what she wants him to do is probably true. And we saw those weird glowing bracelet things they’re using to keep Tam in line—”

  “Yeah, about those,” Elwin interrupted, “when you get a minute, I’d love to see a projection of what they looked like.”

  “So would I,” Wylie agreed. “I don’t understand how light would control a Shade.”

  “I have a few theories,” Elwin said, mostly to himself.

  “Do any of those theories involve quintessence?” Mr. Forkle asked him, and Sophie’s insides tangled tighter at the word.

  “All of them, actually,” Elwin admitted, which did not help Sophie’s knotted-up feeling.

  “Then it sounds like you and I need to have a longer conversation,” Mr. Forkle said, rubbing one of his temples. “I’ll project some images of the bonds for you—I’ve already seen Miss Foster’s and Mr. Vacker’s memories of them.”

  “You have?” Sophie and Fitz asked in unison.

  “Yes. When you run off in the middle of the night, sending everyone you care about into a panic—and then turn up with stories of accidental showdowns against our enemies—you lose the right to insist I follow the rules of telepathy. Though, for the record, I only searched your London memories.”

  Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t be okay with that logic if we tried to use it on you,” she snapped back—but now wasn’t the time for a huge fight. “Next time try asking. And… at least we learned something useful, right?”

  “The showdown wasn’t an accident, either,” Fitz corrected. “Lady Gisela said the Neverseen have been watching that path, waiting for us to show up. She just didn’t count on Sophie’s inflicting being so strong.”

  “Which is the most important thing that happened tonight,” Sophie jumped in. “We proved that I can handle problems by myself.”

  “Sounds like you handle them best when you’re with Mr. Sencen and Mr. Vacker,” Bronte noted.

  “They did help,” Sophie agreed. “So they should probably be a part of Team Valiant—but we can argue about that later. Right now, my point is”—she turned to Mr. Forkle—“you guys did your job. Now that my abilities are working right, I can tell, I’m… pretty powerful. And I have a bunch of crazy-powerful friends—and I can enhance them to make them even more awesome if I need to. So now… I think you guys need to realize that sometimes you’re going to have to trust that we’ll be okay without you—and yes, I am including you in this, Sandor. I’m honored that you’re willing to risk your life to protect me—and most of the time I’m happy to have you at my side—”

  “Happy?” Dex repeated. “I dunno—I’ve heard an awful lot of bodyguard grumbling.”

  “So have I,” Biana agreed.

  “As have I,” Sandor emphasized.

  “You’re right,” Sophie admitted, meeting Sandor’s eyes. “And I shouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t be alive right now if it wasn’t for you—and I’m not saying I don’t want your help anymore. I’m just saying… sometimes I’m going to need you to trust me to do things on my own—and while I know that’s not going to be easy for you, at least tonight proves that I can protect myself.”

  Sandor gripped his sword, and Sophie braced for his usual determined declaration of “I go where you go.”

  Instead, Mr. Forkle jumped in. “We know, Miss Foster.”

  “You do?” Fitz asked, pointing to the rest of the bodyguards in their group, who were all grinding their teeth. “Do they know? ’Cause it doesn’t really look like it.”

  “They’re not happy,” Mr. Forkle admitted, “which proves how fortunate we are to have their protection. Not only do they defend their charges faithfully, but they’ve even allowed themselves to care—which is truly remarkable when you think about it. But there’s a reason I didn’t leap to London and drag you all home by your ears—and I assure you, it’s not because I didn’t consider it, or because your families and bodyguards didn’t want me to. In fact, there were times tonight when I suspected Sandor was considering taking my head off.”

  “I was,” Sandor told him, his squeaky voice deeper than usual.

  Deadly serious.

  Mr. Forkle grinned. “Again, such astounding loyalty. And yet, despite that pressure, I chose to leave the three of you alone to fend for yourselves—and it was also not because I enjoy allowing you to risk your lives more than anyone else standing before you. Nor did I expect an uneventful evening. And still, I left you alone because I fear that as these challenges continue to escalate, our enemies are going to target each of you individually. And the better prepared you are for those moments, the more likely you’ll be to survive them.”

  Dex cleared his throat. “Well, I feel all warm and fuzzy now.”

  “You’re not meant to,” Mr. Forkle informed him. “You’re meant to take this very, very seriously. The stakes have never been higher—and I fear we’re still far from the pinnacle. So if you want us to trust you, you must prove yourselves capable and ready. Which means, Miss Foster, that the next time you decide on a bodyguard-free mission, you’ll discuss that plan before you put it into effect.”

  “I can do that,” Sophie agreed, “as long as it doesn’t turn into hours and hours of debating.”

  “It won’t,” Mr. Forkle assured her. “If you can articulate valid reasons that the task will have a better chance for success with a smaller group—and outline a brief plan of action—your parents and bodyguards have assured me that they’ll agree. You’ll also run into no problems from anyone in the Black Swan—or the Council.”

  “Really?” Sophie asked, studying the twelve intimidating faces she’d been doing her best to ignore up until that point.

  “Trust is a powerful thing, is it not?” Councillor Emery asked.

  “But it must not be abused,” Tiergan added.

  “It won’t be,” Sophie promised everyone.

  “I hope not,” Mr. Forkle told them, “because I’ve also convinced your parents and bodyguards not to punish you for running off the way you did tonight.”

  “I tried to tell Mom and Dad not to listen, but they’re being boring,” Biana told Fitz, “so hopefully they’ll remember this the next time I cause a bunch of drama.”

  “Or you could choose to not cause any drama,” Alden suggested, looking a little more tired than Sophie was used to.

  But it was the middle of the night.

  “It should be noted,” Lord Cassius said, “that my son’s bodyguard was not here to concede to this agreement—and considering the state I last saw her in, and her general temperament, it might be best for Keefe to not come home tonight. Not until I’ve had a chance to discuss all of this with the ogre princess.”

  Sophie couldn’t imagine a single scenario where that conversation would end well. But when she glanced over to where she’d left Keefe, he was nestled into the pillows, sound asleep. So it didn’t seem weird at all to say “he can stay here”—until Stina, Dex, Biana, and Grady all stared at her like she’d offered to cuddle with the gorgodon.

  “I meant he can stay there,” she explained—then quickly added, “and I’ll obviously stay in my room tonight. I just—”

  “That makes sense,” Fitz jumped in. “If he actually fell asleep, we shouldn’t wake him up.”

  And he sounded like he meant it—which made Sophie want to throw her arms around him and tell him he was the best, most understanding boyfriend ever.

  But that also would’ve earned her weird stares.

  So she kept her mouth shu
t, grateful when Edaline broke the silence by yawning and suggesting they all call it a night.

  No one argued. Even when Sophie told her teammates she’d check in with them the next day—and told Mr. Forkle and Elwin she wanted to know what they had discussed about Tam’s glowing bonds.

  “Thank you,” she told Fitz when he pulled her in for a goodbye hug before he leaped away.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “For trusting me,” she whispered. And when he gave her one of his perfect smiles, she really, really, really wanted to kiss him.

  But it had been a very long day.

  And the timing still felt wrong—especially after everything that happened in London.

  So she just hugged him again and told him, “Good night.”

  * * *

  “I get why you’ve been sleeping out here,” Keefe called without turning to look at Sophie as she made her way over to check on him the next day. “I seriously can’t remember the last time I slept for so long.”

  It was already a little past noon.

  But no one had wanted to wake him up earlier.

  Even Grady had begrudgingly admitted that after the emotional turmoil of the day before, Keefe probably needed all the rest he could get.

  “I think it must be Calla’s songs,” Sophie told him, trying not to grin when she noticed Keefe’s hair, which looked like it had been chewed on by baby alicorns. “But Wynn and Luna help too.”

  “They do.” He patted one of the pillows piled next to him, and Sophie took him up on the invitation, fidgeting a little when he turned to study her. “So.”

  “So,” she repeated, not sure what else to say to that.

  “I’m guessing you didn’t sleep much, since you let me steal your spot, huh?” he asked.

  “Actually, I did. Really,” she added when he raised one eyebrow. “Silveny helped me fall asleep, which was nice, since she hasn’t done that in a while.”

  “Aww. Is Mama Glitter Butt overwhelmed by the twins? I can see why. I woke up about an hour ago, and I’ve been watching them wreak havoc all over the pastures. That teleporting thing they do is crazy.”

  Sophie frowned. “Teleporting thing?”

  “I think that’s what it is. That thing where they slip in and out of sight?”

  Sophie shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Really?” He craned his neck, trying to find Wynn and Luna—but they didn’t seem to be anywhere nearby. “They only do it when they’re running really fast. At first I thought they were vanishing or something, but then Luna ended up ducking in and out of the pterodactyl’s enclosure, and you guys keep that locked, right? So I don’t see how she could do that unless she’s slipping in and out of the void.”

  Sophie’s frown deepened.

  Keefe’s theory would solve the mystery of how Wynn and Luna kept sneaking into the gorgodon enclosure.

  “But… you have to free-fall to teleport,” she said, not sure if she was arguing with him or herself.

  “That’s what I thought too,” Keefe admitted. “But you know what it kind of reminded me of? Remember that time at Everglen, not long after you and Dex were rescued? We were playing base quest and you did that Amazing Flying Foster routine, and we all wondered when you’d learned how to blink? Wasn’t that before you figured out that you could teleport?”

  “It was,” Sophie said as her mind slowly dredged up the memory. She hadn’t thought about that moment in months and months and months. “I actually realized later that some of the things I’d felt when that happened were things that reminded me of teleporting.”

  “See?” Keefe said. “Maybe it’s something all baby alicorns do when they’re learning how to master their power.”

  “Uh, except I wasn’t a baby alicorn—and I’d be very careful with the next joke you make, Smirking Boy,” Sophie warned, “because if it has the words ‘horse girl’ in it, I’m not giving you your present.”

  “You got me a present?” Keefe asked, his eyebrows rising when she patted the satchel slung across her shoulders.

  “I did. Had to make a very special trip to go get it for you too—and enlist a little help to make it happen. So what were you going to say?”

  “I… I don’t know.” He reached up to run a hand through his hair and seemed to realize for the first time that his current hairstyle could serve well as a nest for small animals—and his cheeks turned very, very red. He cleared his throat. “Does that mean I get my present?”

  “I suppose,” Sophie said, tempted to tease him more first, since he was so clearly thrown off his game. But she flipped open the satchel and pulled out the crinkly yellow-and-brown package, setting it proudly in his lap.

  “You… got me E.L. Fudges?” Keefe asked, doing an adorable double take between her and the cookies.

  Sophie nodded proudly. “Well, technically my sister stole them from my parents’ pantry so I wouldn’t have to deal with converting lusters to dollars and finding a grocery store and whatnot. It was hard enough convincing Grady and Edaline to let me teleport to see Amy without all of that. So a couple of cookies are missing, but Amy said they opened the package last night and they’re still fresh. Besides, we all know what you really care about is—”

  “The fact that they’re shaped like tiny elves!” Keefe said, clapping his hands before he pointed to the label. “Hang on—they call them ‘elfwiches’?”

  “They do, Keefe. They do. And that’s not even the best part.”

  “AHHHHHH LOOK AT THEIR LITTLE FACES!” Keefe shouted as he peeled back the plastic cover. “THIS IS THE GREATEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN—EVER!”

  “Greater than when you discovered Fitz slept with Mr. Snuggles?” Sophie had to ask.

  “Um. Yeah. They have names, Foster. NAMES!” He held up one of the cookies and pointed to the name tag the little elf was holding. “This one’s Ernie! AHHH AND THIS ONE IS FAST EDDIE!” he said, snatching a different cookie. “And this one is Buckets! And Elwood! I don’t know who named these guys, but whoever they are, they’re a genius, I tell you—a GENIUS. Also, I think Elwood kind of looks like me, doesn’t he?”

  He held the cookie up to his face and raised his other hand in a wave, just like Elwood’s pose, and Sophie couldn’t hold back her giggle.

  “He has your smirk,” she agreed.

  “Yup, he’s a good-looking elf-y cookie. And wait—there’s writing on the back.” He flipped the cookie over. “What does ‘from the Hollow Tree’ mean?”

  “That’s where the Keebler elves make their cookies.”

  Keefe snorted. “Of course they do—why didn’t I think of that? Humans are my favorite. Though, this one says ‘uncommonly good,’ and this one says ‘uncommonly made’—so it sorta seems like the dude deciding this stuff was running out of words, doesn’t it? But whatever, he gave us Fast Eddie, so I’ll forgive him. And wait, why does this one say ‘dunk head first’?”

  “The cookies taste best dunked in milk, so they’re saying to dunk the head first before you eat it.”

  He blinked, turning the cookie back over to stare at the little elf. “Woooooooow, that got DARK. Poor Buckets. I didn’t really think about how weird it was going to be, eating food with a little face on it staring at me—especially a little elf-y face. Look at his little ears! And his little hat! Humans are cruel. But here we go.… Sorry, Buckets, dude—know your sacrifice was for a noble cause.” He raised the cookie to his mouth and flipped it at the last second, biting off the feet instead of the head. “I don’t know why that seemed less brutal, since he totally has no legs now. But it made sense in the moment—and more important… eh.”

  “Eh?” Sophie asked.

  “I mean—don’t get me wrong. It’s way better than those biscuit things you brought me last time. But it’s still kinda dry and boring.”

  Sophie had to agree. And yet she still helped herself to a cookie, each bite tasting like childhood.

  “Thank you, by the way,” he said, tuck
ing the extra cookies he’d pulled out carefully back into the container. “This was really amazing, Foster. No, I mean it—don’t try to shrug it off. This… is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me—by a lot.”

  “Well… I think that’s mostly because your parents have set the bar really low.”

  “They have,” Keefe agreed, and as his smile faded, Sophie wished she could take the words back.

  But she’d gotten the E.L. Fudges for him because she knew he was going to need them.

  “I’m done freaking out,” he told her, clearly picking up on her worries. “I mean… the next time I see Bangs Boy, I’m going to kick him somewhere extra sensitive. But until then… there’s nothing I can do, right? My mom’s still out there, still planning my great ‘legacy’—which apparently includes murdering a guy and his ten-year-old daughter—”

  “You don’t know that,” Sophie interrupted. “That easily could’ve been another one of your mom’s lies. And I thought of something we can do that might help us get a little closer to the truth—or find some other clues about what she’s planning.”

  “Hmm. That sounds like good news—until your emotions hit me and it’s a whole lot of DOOM and WORRY, so I’m guessing I’m not going to like this new tactic?”

  “I’m sure it won’t be your favorite, but… I also think it’ll be worth it.” She finished the last of her cookie, trying to get rid of the sour taste on her tongue. But nothing could block the fresh surge of bile that came with having to tell Keefe, “Fitz hasn’t gotten anywhere with his search of your dad’s memories. And I’m starting to think you’re right. That kind of search might be a little more than his telepathy can handle. So…”

  “You want to make it a job for Fitzphie?” Keefe guessed—which she probably should’ve expected, since the whole Cognate thing usually made them stronger together.

  But…

  “Actually, I think your dad has gotten too good at pushing Fitz around,” she told him. “And the best way to find what we need is for me to take him on, one-on-one.”

  Keefe closed his eyes, looking about as green as the tree on the E.L. Fudge package.