Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8)

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Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8) Page 64

by Shannon Messenger


  Nubiti shook her head. “That’s not what you think it is. This is the problem with battle—you lose proper communication and…”

  Her gaze focused on Keefe, and her voice trailed off.

  “I need to get him to Elwin,” Sophie said, not bothering to get into the whole messy story because she’d realized something way more important. “You can take me to the better path! Glimmer said they used one that goes straight from here to the surface, but that I’d need a dwarf to take me down a level to use it. And since all the dwarves here were trying to kill us, I didn’t think it was an option, but now you’re here! Please tell me you know what I’m talking about.”

  “I do,” Nubiti said, leaning closer to Keefe and waving a hand in front of his open eyes.

  He didn’t blink.

  “I can take you to that path,” Nubiti said slowly. “And I can distract the guards who patrol it as much as I can. But you will need to run very fast—and you’ll be carrying—”

  “I can do it,” Sophie promised, refusing to share Nubiti’s worries.

  She’d just been given a much better chance of getting Keefe to Elwin, and she wasn’t going to waste it because of doubt.

  “I’ll run faster than I’ve ever run before,” she added, saying the words out loud to make them real. “I’m getting Keefe to the Healing Center.”

  THUMP!

  “Ah yes,” Nubiti said, “I should let them in before you go—let them know this area’s been secured.”

  “Them?” Sophie asked, struggling to heft Keefe back into her arms and shift his weight to maximize running speed.

  And she assumed Nubiti was going to tell her about a loyal band of dwarves she’d been fighting with.

  But when Nubiti cranked open the door, it was one of those movie moments, where all of the heroes find their way back to each other and they can’t decide if they want to laugh or cry or make the biggest group hug ever.

  Because there, standing in the doorway, looking like they’d definitely been fighting some epic battles—but winning them—were Councillor Bronte, and Councillor Darek, and Councillor Zarina, and Woltzer, and Lovise, and Grizel.

  And Dex.

  And Biana.

  And Stina.

  And Fitz.

  Fitz.

  His eyes only held hers for a second—but it was enough for Sophie to see that he was alive, so she’d happily take it.

  And she tried to figure out the right thing to say to all of her friends—some sort of celebration and apology for forgetting to check in on them.

  But then she realized…

  None of them were smiling.

  None of them were really even looking at her—their focus instead on the pale, unconscious, blank-stared boy in her arms.

  And the devastation in their expressions was both a gut punch and a jolt of energy. Because it reminded Sophie of where she needed to be focusing.

  She’d save the hugs and stories for later.

  Right now…

  “Sorry, I have to go,” she mumbled. “Things… haven’t gone very well—though there has been one really good thing. But I’ll let Tam tell you about it.”

  “Tam?” Biana asked, her eyes scanning the room—and getting caught on all the unconscious forms spread across the floor.

  “Tam will explain that, too,” Sophie promised. “And tell you who Glimmer is. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

  She avoided all of their stares as Nubiti crouched to dig a hole in the sandy floor.

  But right before Nubiti dragged her in, Fitz’s accented voice filled Sophie’s head.

  You don’t have to be sorry, he transmitted. You’re doing the right thing. Take care of him, and we’ll take care of whatever else we have to deal with here.

  Thank you, Sophie transmitted back as the sand swallowed her whole, scraping and scratching and scuffing her skin raw while her lungs burned and burned, desperate for a fresh breath.

  But she barely noticed the discomfort, because Fitz sent her one more transmission.

  I’m glad you’re okay. And… I’ve really missed you. All of this is so much harder without you.

  I feel the same way, Sophie agreed.

  She wanted to say more, but the sand spat her back out, and she gulped down the fresh air, coughing bits of sand out of her lungs.

  “Honestly, I think I’d rather sink though mud,” she told Nubiti, shaking her feet, trying to get the sand off her boots—and then she lowered her voice to a whisper as she studied the long, empty hall stretching in either direction. “Is this the path?”

  Nubiti nodded, pointing to the left. “That will take you to the surface. I’ll go the other way and see if I can draw the guards to me.”

  “Okay, then,” Sophie said, not wanting to waste any time or strength on lingering or worrying.

  It was time to just… begin.

  She took one second to stare into Keefe’s unblinking eyes and transmitted, Stay with me. I’m getting you to Elwin.

  “Run fast, Sophie,” Nubiti whispered as Sophie hefted Keefe over her shoulder and took off down the hall, starting with a jog, giving her legs a moment to find their stride before she pushed them to go faster.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  She didn’t think about what might be behind her, or how much farther she had ahead. She just centered her mind on one foot in front of the other.

  Go.

  Go.

  Go.

  Her muscles throbbed, and her chest heaved, and the hall echoed with scurries and hisses and screams—but she tuned it all out.

  Stay with me, Keefe.

  Stay with me.

  Stay with me.

  Almost there.

  And they were.

  The path curved enough to show her the exit—still forever away. But she could make it.

  Go.

  Faster.

  Stay with me, Keefe.

  We’ve got this.

  But some of King Enki’s guards had clearly been waiting for her—jumping out of the shadows.

  Stomping their furry feet.

  And the ground rumbled hard, nearly knocking Sophie over as cracks shredded the path ahead, trying to force her to turn around.

  But she’d come too far.

  Too far.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  She’d jump the cracks if she had to.

  Or levitate.

  Or…

  She didn’t finish the thought, because her instincts took over.

  Focusing on the friction of her feet.

  The rush of her sprint.

  The thrill of the speed.

  It felt like flying.

  No.

  It felt like falling.

  And with that thought, warm, tingly energy burst out of her mind, unraveling a tiny thread in the space in front of her, a gap just wide enough for her to charge through, and…

  She didn’t know how to describe it.

  Somehow she just sort of… skipped.

  One second the cracks were there.

  The next, they were already behind her.

  And when she pushed more energy out of her mind…

  She skipped again.

  And again.

  Farther leaps each time.

  The energy replenishing itself by the power of her sprint.

  And she realized she was no longer in Loamnore.

  She’d made it to the desert, kicking up clouds of sand as she ran.

  Which meant it was time to levitate, but…

  Maybe she didn’t need to.

  A fresh rush of warm energy flooded her brain. Fueled by the triumph of freedom and escape. And she shoved it out of her mind, telling Keefe, Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me, as a crack split the space in front of her and she charged into the void.

  FIFTY-TWO

  THE GOOD NEWS IS, HE’S alive,” Elwin said, snapping his fingers to form an orb of purple light around Keefe’s to
rso. “And his vitals are strong.”

  That was good news.

  And Sophie was grateful for every heartbeat and every rise and fall of Keefe’s chest—even if both were definitely a little too fast at the moment.

  She was also extremely happy that Bullhorn was paying them zero attention. He’d barely lifted his little banshee head when Sophie had stumbled into the Healing Center and handed Keefe over to Elwin.

  But.

  “What’s the bad news?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her knees and curling into a Sophie-ball.

  Elwin had made her lie down on the cot next to Keefe’s when he saw how wobbly she was from her crazy run. And of course he’d also insisted on checking her for injuries.

  But she was fine.

  Nothing to worry about.

  Except the fact that Keefe was still staring blankly at nothing. And when she’d tried listening to his thoughts, his mind was gray and silent.

  “The bad news,” Elwin said, running a hand down his face before adjusting his iridescent spectacles, “is that I have no idea what’s going on. I’ve never heard of the treatments you described. I mean… obviously Lady Gisela’s been playing with the elements, trying to affect abilities. And I’m assuming the reason she used magsidian and ethertine instead of pure shadowflux and quintessence is because the elements would’ve been more… I guess ‘organic’ is the word I’m looking for, since they’d fused with the earth when the stones were formed. And I think that was probably a smart call, by the way. I think that’s why I’m not seeing any echoes.”

  “None?” Sophie asked, sitting up.

  Recovering from her own echoes had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. So if Keefe wouldn’t have to endure that…

  “See?” Elwin said. “More good news.”

  “It is.” And she tried to smile.

  But she still noticed the way Elwin’s frown deepened every time he flashed another orb of light and squinted through his spectacles.

  First blue.

  Then red.

  Orange.

  Yellow.

  Green.

  And Keefe just kept right on staring at nothing.

  “Is he in a coma?” she had to ask.

  Elwin shook his head. “I think it’s more that his consciousness is tucked away right now, because the rest of him is in so much flux.”

  “Flux?” Sophie repeated, hating that word.

  “Well… judging by all the shifts I’m seeing in his cells, I’m pretty sure he’s going through a kind of… transformation.”

  “Great,” Sophie mumbled, hating that word so much more.

  And she couldn’t stop her brain from flashing to the nightmares she’d seen in Keefe’s head—the scenes that had reminded her too much of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

  “Easy now, Miss Dramatic. For the record—I see these same kinds of shifts whenever anyone manifests. So my guess is, Keefe’s getting a brand-new ability.”

  That… sounded less scary—and matched the things Alvar had told them.

  But…

  “What ability?” she wondered.

  “I guess we’ll find out when he wakes up.”

  Sophie sighed, telling herself not to cry—but her tear ducts wouldn’t obey. “I hate that his mom gets to change him like this.”

  Elwin sat beside her on the cot, offering her a soft handkerchief. “Okay, I’m usually not the one who has to say all the smart, pep-talky things. So bear with me on this, okay? The thing you have to remember is… everything changes us. Every day we live. Every person we meet. Every experience, good or bad. That’s what makes us who we are. What shapes our thoughts—our decisions. And the changes always work on two levels: what happened and how we respond. So, yes, this… is going to change Keefe—just like it’s going to change you and me and everyone else who cares about our favorite Lord Hunkyhair. But… that’s just what happened. We all still get to decide how we’ll respond. And if I know Keefe, he’ll find a way to become even more awesome. Trust me, Sophie. Nothing will ever stop Keefe Sencen from being Keefe Sencen. Think of how many things have already tried.”

  And that… was probably the best point he’d made.

  Keefe had survived huge betrayals and years of mind games and abuse.

  And he’d still sounded like him before his mind went quiet.

  Just tired.

  Which made her wonder. “Do you think we should give him a sedative?”

  Elwin clutched his chest, then spun her toward him and flashed an orb of orange light around her head. “Okay, who are you, and what did you do with the sedative-hating Sophie Foster?”

  “I wasn’t saying for me,” Sophie reminded him. “I just know Keefe really wanted to sleep when it was all over. And that doesn’t look like sleep.”

  “It is and it isn’t. It’s a kind of restful wakefulness—and yes, I realize those seem like opposite things. But that’s the only way I can think to describe it. And since I know so little about what’s happening to him, I’m a little reluctant to mess with it. I think it’s better to keep a very close eye on him and let this run its course.”

  “Wait—you’re not giving him any medicine?” Sophie asked. “Not even a painkiller?”

  “I’m not sensing any pain. And like I said, I don’t want to interfere.”

  Sophie slumped out of his grasp, curling into a ball again. “So… I brought him here for nothing.”

  Elwin snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Sorry. It’s just… I left everybody in Loamnore because I thought I was helping Keefe—”

  “You did help Keefe.”

  “Yeah, but… not enough to make up for leaving my friends to face an army of angry dwarves without me—not that I was much help, honestly. Or any help.” She shook her head, resisting the urge to punch her pillow—that was never as satisfying as she wanted it to be. “I don’t get it. Sometimes I’m so powerful—like in London, when I inflicted. Or when I was running here, and I figured out this new way to teleport—”

  “You did?” Elwin interrupted.

  She shrugged. “I think that’s what happened. I’ll have to test it later—but, so… How come I can do that—and then other times be basically useless? My plans fail—or are ‘predictable,’ apparently. Or I get overpowered by dwarves. Or I get sidetracked by the wrong things, or—”

  “Okay, I’m sensing that you could keep this Sophie-bashing going for quite a while, so I think it’s best to stop you right there. And first: I have to say, I love that in the same conversation, you can tell me you figured out a new way to teleport without really even trying and then beat yourself up for not being powerful enough. Sounds like someone’s expectations for themselves might be a little too high.”

  “But… I’m the moonlark!”

  “You know what, Sophie? I’m going to tell you something I don’t think people tell you enough, even if it means I’m going to have to be smart and pep-talky again. You are the moonlark. But you’re also Sophie Foster. A real person with real flaws and real limitations—and that’s not a bad thing! Honestly, if you got everything right all the time, you’d probably be kind of annoying.” He grinned when her eyebrows shot up. “You know it’s true. No one likes a show-off. And you know what else you’d be if you did everything perfectly all the time? Boring. And you know that’s true too. Just look at the friends you’ve chosen. Are any of them perfect?”

  She wanted to say that Fitz seemed pretty close sometimes.

  But she wasn’t sure if they were still friends.

  That moment when she was leaving… the things he’d said…

  She wasn’t sure that was really enough to fix them.

  And she couldn’t decide how she felt about that.

  She also didn’t understand why things between them always had to be so fragile.

  And she definitely couldn’t believe she was obsessing about this when Fitz was probably still down in Loamnore fighting traitor dwarves.

  She really didn’t have
the energy for an endless conversation with all of the gruesome play-by-play. But she had to know one thing.

  Are you safe?

  She transmitted the words over and over, wondering if they’d even reach him. She didn’t want to distract him if he was still in the midst of everything.

  But Fitz heard her.

  And he must’ve been just as worn out as she was because he transmitted back, Everyone safe. Please don’t worry. We’ll talk soon.

  “Well,” Elwin said, standing and stretching, “I should hail your parents and let them know you’re here—and safe. Should I tell them you’ll be staying here tonight?”

  “Is that okay?” Sophie asked.

  She knew she was definitely avoiding reality, and all the “what happened” conversations, followed by everyone asking her, “What now?”

  But she’d also promised Keefe she’d be there for him through this. And she wasn’t done yet.

  So once she’d assured her parents that she was fine and safe and sorry for not coming home and would tell them everything later—and of course that she loved them—she opened a tiny channel between her mind and Keefe’s.

  I’m here, she told him.

  He didn’t respond.

  But she didn’t need him to.

  She just wanted him to know she was there.

  So she told him about her new teleporting.

  And her conversation with Elwin.

  And how she was so scared for him—but also so proud of him—and that it didn’t matter if some things about him changed.

  He’d always be her friend.

  Always be Keefe Sencen.

  And when she couldn’t stay awake anymore, she let her eyes flutter closed. And in that last flicker of her vision, she saw Keefe’s eyes close too.

  * * *

  Keefe slept through the next day—and Sophie chose to stay in the Healing Center with him.

  And everyone else in the Lost Cities woke up to a forever-changed world.

  It definitely wasn’t every day that a dwarven king faced a multispeciesial Tribunal in Eternalia, where all twelve Councillors—as well as the leaders of the four intelligent species that had been affected by his crimes—unanimously voted that he be exiled for high treason and sentenced to the somnatorium.

  And since Nubiti had been the one to capture and overthrow King Enki, by dwarven law, she had inherited the dwarven crown.

 

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