“It will be over soon enough,” Nubiti told him, slowly rising to her furry feet.
King Enki resumed pacing. “Let’s hope that’s the case.”
Sophie couldn’t have agreed more.
She’d lost track of how long they’d been waiting in that shivery, shadowy room, but her legs were growing wobbly and her arms were feeling twitchy and she was ready for something to happen.
“Is your king always this cuddly?” Ro asked Nubiti—louder than she should have.
King Enki laughed. “Oh, I assure you, I am far from cuddly.”
He stomped his foot, and a low rumble reverberated through the room, followed by the sound of crumbling earth.
It was too dark to see the crack heading for Ro until the ground beneath her feet had already fallen away—but somehow the ogre princess managed to leap to safety, tumbling into the shadows and stopping with a painful grunt, followed by a lot of spitting and coughing.
“Anyone else have anything they want to say?” King Enki challenged.
Councillor Liora stepped toward him, and her glowing clasp illuminated enough of her face to show the tension in her expression as she dipped her head in a bow and told the dwarven king, “Only if you’ll allow me to fully express our gratitude for your hospitality.”
King Enki inclined his head for a long second, and Sophie found herself holding her breath until he said, “You may.”
Liora dipped her chin again and launched into a list of such exaggeratingly magnanimous praise that Sophie wondered how Liora managed to say it all with a straight face.
“I’m sorry,” Nubiti whispered, suddenly at Sophie’s side. The tiny dwarf’s voice was barely audible when she added, “My king is in a very strange mood today. I suspect his crown is affecting his temper.”
“Ethertine can do that?” Sophie asked, careful to keep her voice hushed.
Nubiti nodded. “It’s been known to heighten emotion and dull inhibition—at least for those in my species. Something about the way the light affects our eyes… It’s why some choose to adorn themselves with it in battle—though I’ve never seen my king with that headpiece before. He must be very worried for our people.”
None of that was good news.
But Sophie tried to set aside the fear and focus on the useful information. “So ethertine affects every species differently?”
“We’re all unique creatures, aren’t we?” Nubiti countered.
They were.
And that could mean that Sophie was right about the theory slowly pulling together in her brain—but it also sounded so absurd that she needed a deep breath before she whispered, “Do you think, on an elf, ethertine might work like… mind control?”
Nubiti dragged her foot slowly through the sand. “Your species is very sensitive to light—more sensitive than any other. And your minds are known for their power. So… anything is possible.”
It was.…
“And ethertine is really made of starlight and lightning?” Sophie asked.
“That’s one of the common stories,” Nubiti told her. “But if that were true, every thunderstorm with a break in the clouds would create more, and ethertine is incredibly rare. So I think it must require a specific kind of starlight.”
“You mean quintessence,” Sophie guessed.
“That has always been my presumption—more so now that I better understand the origin of magsidian.”
“So… ethertine from quintessence, and magsidian from shadowflux,” Sophie said, mostly to herself.
And if Lady Gisela wanted to control a Shade…
“I’m going to check on the other group,” Nubiti said as Sophie’s mind raced through the possibilities. “I’ll be moving back and forth between you as needed. Hopefully you’re never both in dire straits at the same time.…”
“Hopefully they’re never in dire straits—period,” Flori corrected from somewhere in the nearby shadows.
“Of course.” But Nubiti’s grim tone made it clear how little hope she held for that. “Stomp in your regular pattern if you’re in trouble while I’m gone,” she told Sophie. “I’ll check back as soon as I can.”
She dived back into the ground, disappearing without a word.
And then there was silence.
Restless, endless silence.
Stretching so long that Sophie realized they surely had to be past the Neverseen’s deadline.
And still, there was nothing—and Sophie wondered if she should reach out to Fitz telepathically, to see if his group had seen or learned or discovered anything.
But the thought of hearing his voice in her head made her chest feel much too heavy.
“Think the Neverseen are playing with us?” Maruca called from the darkness after several more painfully long minutes.
“Oh, I’m sure they are,” Wylie muttered, the glow from his circlet swaying slightly, as if he were shaking his head. “I wonder if we should—”
Blaring sirens cut him off—and the high-pitched wails stabbed Sophie’s ears like tiny needles.
“What is that?” Councillor Noland shouted as three of the king’s guards locked arms in the dim glow near the door to form a furry barricade.
Sandor and Ro appeared behind them, their blades glinting in the flickering light.
“That is a warning alarm that Nubiti installed at the main entrance of the marketplace,” King Enki explained. And he seemed so calm—so steady—as he stood before his throne with the glow from his crown making the magsidian shimmer all the more.
He didn’t even flinch as a second siren joined the other, adding shrill, screechy sounds to the headache-triggering din.
“And that’s the alarm Nubiti installed at the market’s back gate,” King Enki informed them.
“Does that mean we’re in the wrong place?” Maruca yelled to Sophie.
“Or it means they’re coming for us next,” Wylie reminded her.
“Take cover!” Sandor ordered—but there was no way that Sophie was hiding.
She pulled two throwing stars from her pockets, aiming them toward the door.
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
But the door stayed safely barricaded.
Not even a thump on the other side.
And a third siren blared to life with a series of painful squawks.
“Additional alarm in the heart of the marketplace,” King Enki told them.
And still nothing happening at the Grand Hall.
“Shouldn’t we go help them?” Maruca asked, voicing the question that Sophie was pretty sure they’d all been thinking.
And Sophie had no idea—she’d been so certain that the Neverseen would come find them that she’d never considered a backup plan.
“I think we should go!” Maruca decided, and her silhouette sprinted toward the door.
“Wait!” Sandor commanded, waving his sword to block her as he sniffed the air. “Something’s… shifted.”
“You’re feeling that too?” Ro asked, ducking into a crouch and pointing her daggers toward the darkness.
“It’s the shadows,” Flori added—and Sophie followed her voice to a spot behind King Enki’s throne. Flori’s huge gray eyes shone in the darkness—looking so heartbreakingly sad as she said, “I should’ve seen this.”
Then the alarms went silent.
And all the shadows shifted—the entire room lightening.
Brightening.
Revealing three black-cloaked figures in front of the throne.
“Finally,” Lady Gisela said, tossing back her hood and offering a cold smile as her eyes met Sophie’s. “I wondered how much longer it would take you to notice us. Now, where’s my son?”
FORTY-EIGHT
YOU GUYS CAN STAY RIGHT there!” Maruca shouted at the Neverseen, and Sophie squeezed her eyes shut as a searing white flash shredded the darkness.
She held her breath, counting the next few seconds—waiting, waiting, waiting to see if the light would trigger a reaction from the magsidian.
> And when she made it to ten with no fiery explosions, she opened her eyes, and…
Safe.
It was a strange word to think, given their current situation—but it mostly summed up what Sophie felt when she saw that Lady Gisela and both of the other cloaked figures were now trapped under Maruca’s force field.
She just wished Lady Gisela would’ve looked a little more upset about it.
Instead, Lady Gisela clapped her hands and said, “Well! This is a surprise! And once again—bravo for your brilliant recruiting, Sophie. You found yourself a Psionipath—those are very hard to come by! I would know—I’ve been looking. Maybe someday I’ll take this one.…”
Maruca’s smile glinted in the light of her force field as she told Lady Gisela, “Try it.”
But Sophie’s eyes locked with Wylie’s, and she knew he was feeling the same sickening dread that she felt.
Especially when Lady Gisela told Maruca, “Maybe I will,” before she turned back to the two cloaked figures trapped under the glowing dome with her. “Then again, you might be a little too inexperienced for me.”
“Uh, I caught you, didn’t I?” Maruca argued.
“Did you? Am I trapped?” Lady Gisela wondered. “Or am I just enjoying some rather convenient protection from Sophie’s inflicting?”
“I don’t like this,” Ro whispered in Sophie’s ear—and Sophie barely managed not to squeal, wondering when the ogre princess had snuck up beside her. “She’s way too happy to be under that little shield,” Ro added. “So I say you tell your girl to drop her force field and let me and Sandor take them down. We should have them on the ground in seconds—and if things get weird, you do your rage-girl thing. Either way, we save all the talky talk for once Lady Creeptastic is locked in a cage.”
It was actually a smart plan.
But before Sophie could give Maruca the suggestion, Lady Gisela called out, “Whatever you and the princess are plotting over there, Sophie, I wouldn’t recommend it. Clearly you haven’t noticed how off your Psionipath’s aim was.”
“Psh, my aim was perfect!” Maruca snapped back.
“It was,” Lady Gisela agreed. “For me. You trapped us in here with some very handy hostages. Show them, Tam.”
Sophie was too stuck on the word “hostages” to feel the full impact of the name—until the shadows within the force field shifted, revealing the reality of their situation. Then her stomach lurched and her heart stopped and her head was pounding, pounding, pounding—and Sophie didn’t want to know which one of the black-cloaked figures was her friend.
Because the figure on Lady Gisela’s left had a dagger pressed against King Enki’s throat.
And the figure on Lady Gisela’s right held a dagger to Flori.
“I think we all understand the situation a little better now, don’t we?” Lady Gisela asked as Sophie tried to remind herself, Tam’s being controlled.
It wasn’t him doing this horrible thing.
It had to be the ethertine.
He didn’t have a choice—even if another part of her brain was screaming, THERE’S ALWAYS A CHOICE!
“Ah ah ah,” Lady Gisela said as Maruca raised her arms. “No unraveling my precious force field—not unless you want the dwarves to be without their king, or Sophie to live without her favorite little gnome. That’s how hostages work—in case you didn’t realize. Now you have to do what I tell you or…” She nodded at the cloaked figures, and they pressed their blades even farther into King Enki’s and Flori’s skin.
Maruca’s hands curled into fists, and her eyes were so wild with panic and fury and regret that Sophie stole a second to transmit to her, This isn’t your fault. Accidents happen. You were trying to help, and no one blames you. Just try to stay calm now, okay?
She didn’t have time to see if Maruca nodded, because Lady Gisela was telling Wylie, “No Flasher tricks either. And don’t look so devastated, Sophie—this is honestly a good thing for everybody. I’d imagined we’d be stuck fighting a big annoying battle until all of you were sufficiently subdued. This was such a time-saver! And if you feel that rage of yours brewing, perhaps you should remind yourself that right now, no one’s gotten hurt—and you can keep it that way if you cooperate.”
“Cooperate how?” Sophie spat back, meeting Flori’s eyes and mentally promising to get her out of this.
Lady Gisela clicked her tongue. “That doesn’t sound like the tone of someone ready to play nice. So let’s do a quick show-and-tell to make sure you fully understand the stakes—especially you three in the silver over there!” She waved at the three Councillors before stomping her foot in a very specific pattern.
Five dwarves burst out of the floor near the Grand Hall’s entrance. And when they stomped their feet, cracks snaked every direction until the room was a maze of deadly pits and ledges.
“Is that clear enough for you?” Lady Gisela asked, pointing to the deep gouge in front of Sophie, which had stopped mere inches from her toes. “Are we ready to have a nice, calm conversation about the fact that I gave you one very clear, very simple instruction and you thought it would be fun to disobey me?”
“See, but there isn’t much to say,” Sophie told her, feeling her confidence return—because this was why she hadn’t let Keefe come with them.
This was what always happened when they faced the Neverseen.
They’d make a mistake, or a small miscalculation, and the Neverseen would seize the advantage.
But there was nothing to seize.
Lady Gisela could make all the threats she wanted—cause all the theatrics. And Vespera was welcome to show up too. Or Gethen. They could have a great big Neverseen reunion.
And nothing would change the fact that Keefe wasn’t there.
Sophie mentally repeated the reminder as she tapped her foot, trying to be subtle with the motion.
She had no idea what was happening in the marketplace, or how much danger the group over there was in. But surely if Nubiti was busy, there were other dwarves she could send as backup.
Lady Gisela sighed. “I don’t understand why you insist on being so afraid of my son’s legacy, Sophie. I’m trying to give him the best life—the best world—I can possibly give him. That’s what parents do. We reach for the stars for our children.”
Sophie snorted. “This isn’t about Keefe—this is about you! You’re so desperate to be right about whatever creepy thing you’re planning that you’ll do anything to keep it going. No matter how much it hurts your son—or how clear he makes it that he wants nothing to do with you.”
“He doesn’t know what he’s resisting!” Lady Gisela argued.
“That’s because you keep refusing to tell him!” Sophie snapped back. “It’s almost like you know he’ll still reject it—and reject you.”
“What a strange conclusion for the moonlark to come to,” Lady Gisela murmured. “You’ve never rejected your creators, have you? And they made you their experiment.”
Sophie had to laugh at that. “You love to get all high and mighty about how you’re not like the Black Swan. But at least the Black Swan lets me have a choice in what happens to me! Oh, and by the way—that treatment you did to yourself and Lord Cassius? That totally counts as an ‘experiment.’ And I’m sure whatever you’re planning to do next is even worse. So you can stop deluding yourself. You’ve been experimenting on your son his entire life.”
Lady Gisela shook her head. “Trust me, there’s no delusion. Project Moonlark twisted and tweaked your genetics until you became something other. And the Black Swan may be okay with that—but I would never do that to my child. All stellarlune does is use the natural forces in our world to bring out someone’s full potential!”
“Stellarlune?” Sophie repeated, trying to stay focused—trying not to glance at the blond, ringleted Councillor across the room to see how she was reacting to all of this.
Lady Gisela smiled. “I see what you’re doing, Sophie. Stalling. Keeping me talking. Hoping I’ll say too much, all wh
ile waiting for the others in the marketplace to come save you. But I assure you, Vespera is keeping them very busy. Her plans are always so much more convoluted than mine.”
“Right, because this isn’t convoluted,” Wylie muttered, waving his arms around the room. “And I love how you’re totally ignoring the fact that your boy’s not here.”
“He’s not.” Lady Gisela turned to glare at Sophie. “And clearly you’re very proud of the stand you’ve taken.”
“I am,” Sophie agreed.
“And yet, for all your bluster, you failed to consider that I might be stalling as well. And you forgot the most important truth.” Lady Gisela stalked to the edge of the force field before she added, “I know my son way better than you do. That’s why I left him his own message.”
Ro groaned and muttered a string of words that seemed to cover every ogre insult ever created. “I’ll kill him.”
“I’m sure you’ll try,” Lady Gisela told her, stomping her foot again, making two more dwarves crawl out of the floor.
And with them was a sand-crusted, disheveled blond guy who was very clearly not tied up or restrained in any way.
Keefe coughed a few times and shook the dirt out of his hair before he stole a quick glance at Sophie. And his smile looked more sad than sheepish as he shrugged and told her, “Couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”
FORTY-NINE
YOU PROMISED!” SOPHIE SHOUTED AS Ro screamed, “WE HAD A DEAL!”
“I know.” Keefe shuffled his feet, tapping his toe against the floor as the dwarves who’d dragged him there disappeared into the sand. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s it?” Sophie glanced at Ro, wondering which one of them looked more eager to launch a dagger at Keefe’s head.
“That’s all you have to say?” Ro added.
And Lady Gisela must’ve seen the murder in their eyes because she clapped her hands and called out, “All right, everyone—take a deep breath! Let’s not forget that there are hostages to consider! So keep those weapons tucked away. And I don’t like the way that some of you are trying to move right now either—especially you three.” She pointed to the Councillors, who’d been silently skirting the perimeter of the Grand Hall, moving toward the door. “Wishing you could go back to cowering in your crystal castles?”
Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8) Page 60