Apparently, she wasn’t just losing her boyfriend.
She’d lost her friend—and even Fitz’s faith and trust in her.
Which made her eyes sting and her nose burn, and she told herself, Breathe, breathe, breathe, because she was right about this, and if she started crying, she’d lose all of her credibility.
But the tears were still welling up, turning everything blurry, and—
“Okay,” Keefe said quietly, and Sophie spun toward him.
“Okay?” she asked.
He nodded, wrapping his hand around hers, twining her gloved fingers with his.
And Sophie almost started to smile—until Keefe’s back straightened and he said, “Wow, I can’t feel your enhancing at all right now.”
The change probably did surprise him—but there was something off with his tone.
That was when Sophie noticed the glare that Fitz had aimed at her and Keefe’s hands—and she couldn’t believe he’d look at them like… like…
She didn’t know.
But he was wrong.
And she didn’t want Keefe to feel awkward. So she pulled her arm back and told him, “Yeah… I learned how to control it.”
Which of course reminded her of the other person in the room she was trying so hard to avoid.
“Well,” Keefe said, frowning a little as her mood plummeted, “I knew you could do it.”
Her cheeks heated. “Thanks.”
“What do you mean by ‘okay’?” Fitz demanded, not letting them change the subject. “ ‘Okay’ what, Keefe?”
Keefe huffed out a breath. “I was saying okay, I think Foster’s right. If I’m there, then my mom’s pulled off at least half of her plan already, and I’m not really a fan of making it that easy for her. If she wants to force me to face my legacy, she should at least have to come and get me, right? Plus… I promised Foster I’d stay away from the Neverseen. And I don’t think this note gets to change that.”
“Seriously?” Fitz’s eyes narrowed when Keefe nodded. “Wow, you really hate Tam that much? Because he’s the one who’ll pay the price if you’re not there—you get that, right?”
“He’s also the one who told Keefe to stay away,” Sophie argued. “Twice.”
“Yeah, well… just because he’s willing to sacrifice himself, it doesn’t mean we should let him,” Fitz countered. “Plus, who knows? Maybe the way they’ll punish Tam is to hurt Linh. Did anyone think about that?”
All eyes turned to the silent Hydrokinetic, and Linh let go of Maruca’s and Marella’s hands and drew the moisture in the air toward herself, bending it into a small floating sphere. “Water’s felt different the last few days,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “Darker, somehow. And… I think that’s my brother. I think he wants me to see how powerful he is, so that I’ll be willing to trust him. And if that’s what he wants…”
No one seemed to know what to say to that.
Or maybe Sophie did. “He might also be warning you to stay away—and even if he’s not… that might be a really smart idea.”
“She’s right,” Marella told Linh. “If you’re there, the Neverseen can use you to control Tam.”
Linh stared at the swirling orb of water. “But if there’s a fight, you’re going to need me. You’re going to need me,” she emphasized to Marella.
“Actually, I don’t think an underground city is the best place to unleash a Pyrokinetic,” Bronte admitted. “Particularly after the fire we already started the last time.”
“Welcome to Team Too-Cool-for-Loamnore!” Keefe told Marella and Linh. “Are we all agreed that they need to bring us back souvenirs?”
“I’d rather they get back my brother,” Linh said, her voice barely louder than a whisper—which definitely brought home the full reality of what they were about to be facing.
“If there’s any way,” Sophie promised.
Linh nodded.
Mr. Forkle cleared his throat. “So this is our plan, then? Mr. Sencen, Miss Redek, and Miss Linh will remain behind while the rest of us head to the Grand Hall?”
“For the record,” Councillor Emery said before anyone could answer, “we”—he gestured to the other Councillors—“feel it’s unwise to completely ignore the dwarves’ main marketplace. And given that there are so many of us, surely it would be wiser to divide up and send some to each location?”
No one could think of a reason to argue with that.
“Additionally,” Councillor Emery added, “we’d like to make two things very clear. First: We want King Enki to see that the Council stands with his people. So six of us will be going with you—three to each location—while the other six will remain in Eternalia. And second: We’d prefer that any members of the Collective sit this one out, to add greater import to the presence of the Councillors.”
Tiergan raised his eyebrows. “If one of you gets hurt or killed—”
“Then we’re not as powerful as we should be,” Bronte cut in.
Grady started to insist on coming, but Sophie begged him and Edaline to stay at Havenfield to protect Silveny, Greyfell, Wynn, and Luna. She didn’t care that the alicorns could teleport. She wanted someone keeping an eye on them—and if it kept her parents safe, all the better.
Which left them with the question of who would go where—and Sophie told everyone, “I’ll be in the Grand Hall—and let’s not waste too much time arguing about this.”
Fitz immediately volunteered to be in the main marketplace.
He tried to cover it—tried to claim it would give the two teams a way to communicate telepathically through him and Sophie. And everyone seemed to buy that.
Except Edaline.
And Keefe.
“Anything I should know, Foster?” Keefe whispered as he leaned in, his eyebrows scrunching together.
Sophie nodded. “You should know that I’m very grateful you agreed to stay out of this so I didn’t need Ro to tie you up somewhere.”
“Though I’m game for that, if you change your mind!” Ro jumped in.
A tiny smirk curled Keefe’s lips. “Fine. Avoid my question. But know I’m onto you, Foster. And also know that my cooperation comes with one requirement.”
“Does it now?” Sophie asked. “And what’s that?”
He waited for her to meet his eyes. “You have to take Ro with you—you guys are going to need her way more than I do. And don’t look at me like this is all part of my evil plan to sneak into Loamnore. I’m the one who volunteered to stay back, right?”
“I’ll keep an eye on my son,” Lord Cassius offered, making both Sophie and Keefe cringe. “And I’ll ensure he stays where he should.”
“How convenient that it means you won’t have to risk your life either,” Keefe noted.
Lord Cassius shrugged. “Physical confrontation with your mother is something I’d prefer to avoid.”
Sophie couldn’t necessarily blame him for that.
And miraculously, it didn’t take that much longer to settle the groups.
Dex, Stina, Fitz, and Biana would go with Councillor Bronte, Councillor Darek, and Councillor Zarina to the dwarves’ main marketplace, along with Woltzer, Lovise, and Grizel.
And Sophie, Maruca, and Wylie would go with Councillor Noland, Councillor Liora, and Councillor Oralie to the Grand Hall, along with Ro, Sandor, and Flori. They’d have one less person—but they’d also have a Psionipath, which Sophie felt a little guilty about, since the other team was likely heading straight into a trap.
Then again, she also wasn’t sure how having Councillors who were a Vociferator, a Conjurer, and an Empath was going to do her group a whole lot of good—and she really wished she could think of an unsuspicious way to trade Councillor Lyingcurls to the other group.
“All right,” Mr. Forkle said, and then seemed to realize that he wasn’t technically a part of the mission—and definitely wasn’t in charge—before he turned to Councillor Bronte.
“Everyone should go change, gather any weapons, and say your goo
dbyes,” Bronte told them, being his usual uplifting self. “We’ll notify Elwin to make sure he’s on standby at the Healing Center, and meet back here in an hour and head to Loamnore. That should allow us to be in position about an hour before the Neverseen’s deadline.”
“And we’ll notify King Enki about what’s happening,” Emery added.
With that, everyone scattered to do as Bronte had suggested.
And it all felt very real as Sophie changed into one of the outfits that Flori had designed for her before their last showdown with their enemies, with all the extra pockets to hold goblin throwing stars and tiny daggers.
She also donned her Regent Articles—even the crown.
It was time to show the Neverseen that she was a leader.
And the glow from the lumenite would come in handy in the dark.
Keefe was still waiting for Sophie when she came back downstairs, his eyes widening as he studied her outfit. But instead of commenting on it, he asked, “So, what’s going on with you and Fitzy?”
“Seriously?” she asked, wishing she didn’t feel so much heat burning her face. “This could—potentially—be the last time you ever see me, and that’s what you want your final words to be?”
“I can think of plenty of things he’d rather say,” Ro offered from where she sat perched on the bottom stair. “One thing in particular.”
Keefe rolled his eyes at both of them and told Sophie, “This will not be the last time I see you, Foster. Don’t even say that!”
“I agree,” Grady said from the doorway, where he stood with Edaline before striding closer and dragging Sophie into a strangle-hug. “You will come home safely.”
“I’ll do my best,” she told him, wanting to stick with promises she could actually keep.
Edaline joined the embrace, whispering how proud she was, and how she knew Sophie could handle anything.
Then they were gone, and it was just Sophie and Keefe again. Alone—well, if they ignored Sandor and Ro.
And Keefe chose to ask, “Seriously, what’s up with you and Fitzy?”
And maybe it was because this really could be the last time they ever talked to each other—but Sophie didn’t want to lie, or dodge the question.
She just couldn’t seem to make herself say the words either.
So she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her collarbone—as close as she could get to her heart without it getting awkward—and said, “You’re the Empath. You tell me.”
Keefe closed his eyes, and his forehead got all crinkly.
And he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged, unable to talk—but proud of herself for not crying.
Their eyes met, and she could see the worried questions he wasn’t asking.
But all he said was, “Head in the game, Foster. Don’t you dare let this distract you.”
“I won’t,” she promised, dropping his hand and backing up a step.
“And when you see Mommy Dearest,” he added, his eyes darkening, “tell her next time I’m calling the shots.”
Sophie nodded.
But if things went the way she was hoping, there wouldn’t be a next time.
“Looks like everyone’s gathering outside,” Ro announced. “So we should probably join them—and whoa, the Councillors all have their hair pulled back, and they’re wearing these silver suit things that make them all look the same. It’s kind of freaking me out.”
“They do that sometimes,” Sophie told her. “Are their cloak pins shaped like glowing golden keys?”
“Yep—gotta love how you elves always have to be glowy or sparkly—even going into battle.”
The word was an icy splash of reality.
But Sophie also found it somewhat comforting knowing that the Council must have visited the Point of Purity on their way there, to remind themselves that there were bigger, brighter forces with so much more power than any earthly creature.
If only they weren’t going somewhere so very dark and far away from those Sources.
Sandor and Ro headed for the door, and Sophie fought the urge to turn and hug Keefe goodbye.
Instead she told him, “Stay safe.”
“I will if you will,” he bargained. “Oh, and Foster? Fight hard. Don’t hold anything back. And I’ll see you soon.”
FORTY-SEVEN
OKAY, WHOEVER CAME UP WITH the whole ‘let’s make the elves sink through a stinky bog in order to get to Loamnore’ idea needs a good, hard smack,” Maruca grumbled, shaking her dreadlocks to make sure the mud was truly gone—or that’s what Sophie assumed Maruca was doing.
It was hard to tell, since all Sophie could see through the dim, flickering light were the faint silhouettes of her group after they’d scattered to various positions around the bubble-shaped room. The Grand Hall felt so much darker and colder than it had during Sophie’s last visit, and she kept trying to let her darkness vision take over—but she had way too many worries shattering her focus. So the only other distinct shape she could make out was King Enki’s magsidian throne—a shimmering shadow in the center. Empty at the moment, since the king insisted on pacing the perimeter with two of his guards.
King Enki had evidently decided that it would be unwise to replace the ruined chandelier until all of the strange magsidian stones in the walls had been removed. And Nubiti hadn’t had a chance to extract them yet—which Sophie was hoping wouldn’t come back to haunt them.
The dwarves who’d defected to the enemy had likely planted those stones—and now Sophie was inviting the Neverseen to come to the room for a showdown. But by the time she’d realized the oversight, it was far too late to change their plans.
At least they were aware of the vulnerability.
And they were definitely used to improvising.
But King Enki had also forbidden Wylie from using his ability in case the light triggered another reaction. And Sophie doubted he’d be thrilled if Maruca formed any glowing force fields either. So they would have to save those tricks for absolute emergencies.
The only light that King Enki allowed in the Grand Hall came from two tiny, flickering sconces on either side of the massive door—though he’d permitted the Councillors to keep their glowing cape pins and let Sophie and Wylie wear their lumenite circlets. His own crown glowed as well, and was by far the brightest point in the room—flaring with a silvery gleam that made Sophie’s eyes water every time he passed by the position she’d chosen, which was an equal distance between the throne and the door.
“I didn’t realize tredgeon shell glowed like that,” Sophie admitted, surprised the dwarven king would want something so bright near his sensitive eyes.
“It doesn’t. This is my battle crown,” King Enki told her. And as he reached up to run his fingers across the smooth, simple band, Sophie realized the light reminded her of the cuffs she’d seen on Tam’s wrists in London—though Tam’s had glowed far brighter.
“Is the crown made of lumenite?” Sophie wondered.
King Enki snorted. “I would never wear a crown made of something so common.”
Sophie ignored the insult—but might’ve allowed herself half a smile when Ro coughed something that sounded like “awfully smug for a tiny hairless dude” from wherever the ogre princess had tucked herself away in the shadows.
“What is the crown made of, then?” Sophie asked King Enki.
He didn’t answer—but Nubiti crawled out of the sandy ground near the center of the doorway and told her, “Ethertine. It’s almost as rare as magsidian—but far less useful and therefore much less valuable.”
Which sounded like a strange choice as a material for the king’s battle adornment—but… his other crown was made from a giant sand crab’s exoskeleton, so clearly the dwarves had very different taste from elves.
“I’ve never heard of ethertine,” Councillor Noland said, his voice booming even from his post on the opposite side of the room.
“I have,” The Councillor That Sophie Wished Wasn’t There informed th
em—from a spot much closer to Sophie than Sophie wanted. “I believe it’s formed when lightning somehow connects with starlight, isn’t it?”
“Something like that,” King Enki hedged.
“Ethertine,” Sophie repeated, letting the word roll around in her head. “What does it do?”
“I wonder what makes you all think you have the right to ask me so many questions?” King Enki snapped. “Am I not a king? I may not be on my throne at the moment, but that does not lessen my authority! And is it not enough that I’ve given so many of your kind free rein in my city—and provided my guards to protect you? I’ve even allowed you to fill my halls with the stench of ogre sweat and goblin breath and gnomish feet!”
“Okay, whoa,” Ro said, stepping into the flickering light near the doorway, brandishing two of her daggers.
The metallic hiss of an unsheathing sword rang through the air on the other side of the room, and Sophie followed the sound to a massive shape that had to be Sandor.
“Save your weapons for the enemy,” Nubiti commanded. “In here you will only find allies.”
“Will they now?” King Enki countered, stalking toward Nubiti as two more dwarven guards popped out of the ground to flank him. “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak for me.”
Even in the dim light, Sophie could see Nubiti grit her teeth. But she dropped obediently into a deep bow and told King Enki, “I’m sorry, my king. I did not mean to offend.”
“I should hope not,” he told her, angling his head to sneer at her prostrated posture before turning back to pace.
Nubiti continued bowing until King Enki had completed five full circuits around the room. And she kept her chin tucked when she told him, “We may be grateful for their presence before this day is done.”
“I find that highly unlikely,” King Enki huffed, pausing to survey the silhouettes around him—which he could likely see clearly. “But if this is what it takes to protect my city… so be it.”
Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8) Page 59