Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8)

by Shannon Messenger

  Sophie snorted. “Right, because my very existence violates a ton more vows you made.”

  Oralie sighed, but admitted, “That too.”

  There was no warmth in her voice—no regret in her eyes.

  But… maybe Sophie didn’t need there to be.

  She didn’t need another mother.

  She needed answers.

  That’s what Oralie was offering her.

  One, at least.

  One truth that had been erased.

  And Sophie wanted it.

  Needed it.

  And Keefe might never wake up without it.

  But her conscience still forced her to say, “I thought the Forgotten Secrets were things that could damage your sanity if you remembered them.”

  “They are. That’s another risk I’m willing to take. The question is, are you?” She let the question dangle for a second before she added, “It’s going to get ugly, Sophie. And I can’t guarantee your safety—or mine. All I can offer is truth—and I’m ready to get started. If you’re ready to trust me.”

  She held out her hand, asking for her cache.

  And Sophie hesitated only a second before placing it gently in Oralie’s palm, pressing her hand over it to seal their bargain.

  She didn’t need to weigh her options or think through consequences or doubt herself or stress or panic.

  She could do all of that later, as she fought her way through.

  Right now, only one thing mattered.

  “I’m ready,” Sophie told Oralie, doing her best to channel Keefe’s confidence as she added, “Bring it on.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  So… raise your hand if you’re mad at me for that cliff-hanger!

  *pauses while the entire Keeper fandom raises their hands*

  I know… I know. I’m probably going to need to go into hiding until book nine comes out.

  Must. Write. Faster.

  In all seriousness, though, despite how cruelly I treat you guys with my endings, I hope you know how much I love each and every one of you. We’re on an epic journey together with this series—a glorious sleep-deprived adventure! (for me, at least)—and I truly wouldn’t be here without you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for trusting me to guide you through this story. And thank you, thank you, thank you for not throwing your books at my head (these things are heavy!).

  I worked some of the longest hours I’ve ever worked in my life to get this book done in time. But the truly amazing thing is how many people at Simon & Schuster suffered through the same schedule with me—and how many more work tirelessly every day behind the scenes to make sure this series finds its way to stores, schools, libraries, and readers. It’s such an honor and a joy to work with so many inspiring people, including Liesa Abrams Mignogna—my endlessly patient editor—and Jon Anderson, Mara Anastas, Chriscynethia Floyd, Katherine Devendorf, Rebecca Vitkus, Chelsea Morgan, Elizabeth Mims, Karin Paprocki, Mike Rosamilia, Adam Smith, Stacey Sakal, Cassie Malmo, Lauren Hoffman, Caitlin Sweeny, Alissa Nigro, Anna Jarzab, Nicole Russo, Jessica Smith, Sara Berko, Michelle Leo, Jenn Rothkin, Ian Reilly, Christina Pecorale, Victor Iannone, and the entire sales team. And Jason Chan never ceases to wow me with his gorgeous cover illustrations.

  I’m also incredibly lucky to work with my brilliant and supportive agent, Laura Rennert, who truly is my lifeline in this chaotic business (same goes for everyone else at Andrea Brown Literary and Taryn Fagerness Agency).

  And I’m in awe of how hard Cécile Pournin and Mathilde Tamae-Bouhon—and everyone at Lumen Editions—work to get my books translated for French readers every year, despite my down-to-the-wire deadlines.

  To all the booksellers, the teachers, the librarians, the bloggers, and the #bookstagrammers who go out of your way to support this series: Please know that I see you. I adore you. And I would not be where I am without you. You truly are my heroes.

  This year has been an interesting year for me, filled with some of the greatest joys and biggest challenges I’ve ever faced. And all of that madness might’ve unraveled my creativity if it weren’t for a host of supportive, inspiring people.

  Debra Driza: I know I already dedicated the book to you—but I have to thank you here, too, because I truly wouldn’t have survived this deadline without you. Thank you for the snacks, for the abundance of iced tea, and for talking me through Every. Single. Plot hole. Here’s hoping for many more Shannon-and-Deb writing days in the future!

  Thank you, Faith Hochhalter and Brandi Stewart, for being an endless source of wisdom on all things book/event related, and for all of the texts, calls, and hilarious GIFs. I’m so glad this business brought us together. *jazz hands*

  Thank you, Kelly Ramirez, for proving that some friendships truly do last a lifetime, and for providing excellent pep talks, perfect distractions, and an abundance of Instagram wisdom.

  Thank you, Kari Olson, for always making yourself available for a desperate brainstorming session—and for all the cute animal picture motivation. (The aardwolf mention in Legacy is for you!)

  Thank you, Alexander Morelli, for teaching me about mindfulness exercises (best deadline coping mechanism ever!) and then not judging me for twisting one of them around to serve my plotting purposes. You saved the hardest scene in the book!

  Thank you, C. J. Redwine, for being my writing check-in buddy on the longest deadline days, Sarah Wylie for the wonderful e-mails (and for not judging my long gaps between replies), Amy Tintera for putting up with my really long text messages, and Roshani Chokshi for always being fabulous (and inspiring me to try to be the same).

  Thank you, Kasie West, Renee Collins, Bree Despain, Jenn Johansson, and Candice Kennington, for letting me crash your writing retreat—it was just the boost I needed to get back into the rhythms of writing.

  Thank you, Allison Bennett, for being there for that first very long, very hard phone call, and for all the advice after. And thank you, Nadia and Roland, for continuing to be the best niece and nephew ever. (And I have to give Jeff Bennett a shout-out here too!)

  And of course—of course—thank you, Mom and Dad, for helping me get my house reorganized into perfect writing spaces, for bringing me meals and groceries and anything else I needed. I know I say this every year, but maybe this time it’ll actually happen: Here’s hoping the next book will cooperate and I’ll actually get to sleep!

  Hi there, Keeper fans! Consider this your friendly reminder: If you snuck back here to spend a little time with our favorite silver-banged Shade before reading Legacy—STOP! TURN BACK! SPOILERS AHEAD! Even the next paragraph is iffy, so I’d recommend fleeing now.

  *pauses for one more SPOILER ALERT*

  Okay! The scenes you’re about to read take place simultaneously with what’s going on throughout the course of Legacy, to give you some glimpses into Tam’s side of the story. There are several references to moments you’ve already seen through Sophie’s eyes, but now you’ll get to see Tam’s reactions and hopefully get some deeper insights into what our sweet, angsty boy is going through.

  Happy reading!

  First Day

  Don’t talk to anybody.

  Don’t listen to anybody.

  Don’t make friends.

  Don’t let them break you.

  * * *

  They were the words that Tam had repeated to himself every morning before he headed off with Linh to Exillium.

  The rules he forced himself to follow.

  The only way to survive.

  And they were going to get him through this.

  Hopefully he’d learn something useful too.

  Tam studied his tiny, stuffy room, smirking at the ridiculous touches someone had added—as if they thought he’d look at the embroidered pillows and the jeweled moon jars and think, Oh, I guess I’m not a prisoner, because they gave me a mirrored tray with…

  Is that a sparkly cat statue?

  He rolled his eyes and tried to decide if it would be better to gather up all of that junk and shove it under
the bed to show them exactly what he thought of it, or to leave it where it was.

  What he really wanted to do was shred the pillows, fling the moon jars against the walls, and smash that stupid, shiny cat.

  But this was a long game.

  Best to start slow. Test the water.

  “How did you sleep?” Lady Gisela asked behind him, and Tam kicked himself for flinching—but he hadn’t heard the door open.

  “Awesome,” he told her. “Nothing says ‘sweet dreams’ like a concussion. You should try it sometime. I’d be happy to knock you out.”

  Lady Gisela sighed. “This will go much easier for you if you cooperate.”

  “Pretty sure it will go easier for you,” Tam countered, spinning around to face her.

  Her hair was pulled back into this supertight bun that looked like it had to be giving her a headache, and the skin on her face had this weird, stretched look to it. It almost looked like it hurt when she moved her mouth.

  Tam really hoped it did.

  “I know how to deal with stubborn, snarky boys,” Lady Gisela told him.

  “I can tell. Thanks for the cat statue!”

  Her eyes narrowed, and Tam realized he should probably ease off a bit. It was only day one. He needed to figure out the boundaries before he started slamming against them.

  “I’m not the enemy, Tam,” she told him, and it was really, really hard not to laugh—until she added, “But I can be if you insist on being difficult. You’re here for a reason, and I will make sure you fulfill it.”

  “Great. Looking forward to it.”

  “You should be. Now come on. Gethen’s waiting.”

  Tam’s stomach dropped. “Gethen?”

  “Our Telepath.” Lady Gisela’s smile stretched wider. “He’s very much looking forward to spending the day with you.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Tam mumbled as he followed her down a dim, narrow hallway, trying to keep his back straight, head held high.

  But a whole day with a Telepath…

  Tam wouldn’t be able to hide much.

  And this prisoner-of-the-Neverseen thing just got a whole lot more complicated.

  After the Warning

  “So settle a bet for me,” one of Them said, dropping into the chair across from Tam in the hideout’s small study.

  Tam gripped his book so hard, the spine crackled.

  Her face was hidden by the cowl of her cloak. But he recognized her voice.

  It was the one who’d put the bonds on his wrists.

  The one who’d told him, It’ll be easier this way, I promise, as she’d turned him into Lady Gisela’s little Shade pet.

  The Flasher who called herself “Glimmer.”

  Apparently she thought he didn’t care about what she’d done to him, because she pointed to his forehead and asked, “So, the fact that you never wear your hood—is that a protest? Or because you want everyone to see your awesome bangs?”

  Tam went back to reading.

  “You don’t talk much, do you?” When he still didn’t respond, she sighed—then leaned closer and whispered, “Gethen’s mad at you.”

  Tam gripped the book again.

  Of course Gethen was mad at him.

  He couldn’t hide his whole conversation with Sophie—he’d known that the second he’d let her into his mind.

  But hopefully he’d hidden the part that mattered.

  And hopefully Sophie believed him.

  “Be careful, Tam,” Glimmer told him as she stood. “I don’t think you realize what you’re doing.”

  No. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  Don’t let them break you.

  After Linh

  “I seriously don’t know how you can make any sense out of that journal,” Glimmer said, taking the seat across from Tam and plopping a book about light theory down on the study’s table. “Shades are weird.”

  She sat at his table a lot, either ignoring him or trying to trick him into talking to her.

  So Tam tried to tell himself it was nothing unusual.

  Nothing to worry about.

  No one knew anything.

  He’d shrouded his conversation with Linh in hundreds of layers of shadows. There was no way Gethen could’ve found the memory.

  And yet, Glimmer leaned close and said, “I know something’s wrong.”

  Tam kept his eyes on Umber’s precise writing.

  “I heard you crying last night,” Glimmer added, her voice softening in a way that reminded him of his sister.

  And it made him break his rule and talk.

  “What do you want?” he asked, keeping his voice low—sharp.

  “I just… don’t understand why you have to be so stubborn,” she said to him. “You don’t have to be all alone here. You could have friends.”

  Don’t make friends.

  Not that he needed the reminder. He snorted and held his arms up, showing her the bonds she’d put there. “You think we can be friends.”

  Her head angled down, making her cloak fall even farther forward. “I think there’s a lot you don’t understand,” she murmured.

  “And I think there’s a lot you don’t understand,” Tam countered. His voice low. Ominous. “Whatever reasons you have for being here are wrong. And whatever you think you know about these people is wrong too. They only care about themselves, and when the time comes, they will betray you.” He pointed to his bonds again and told her, “Just like they made you trap me.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  Then Glimmer grabbed her book and stalked away.

  After London

  “What happened?” Glimmer demanded, shoving her way into Tam’s room and closing the door behind her, pressing her back against it like she was trying to keep everyone out. “Where did you go? Why is Lady Gisela unconscious?”

  Tam curled up tighter on his bed.

  He couldn’t talk.

  Couldn’t think.

  Couldn’t stop shaking, shaking, shaking.

  Glimmer crouched beside him, and her hood shifted in the process, giving Tam a glimpse of her long black hair.

  Not that it mattered.

  Nothing mattered.

  Not after what he’d just done.

  “What happened?” Glimmer asked again. “You can tell me.”

  Don’t talk to anybody.

  “You can trust me,” she added.

  Don’t listen to anybody.

  “I’m your friend,” she promised.

  Don’t make friends.

  And it hit Tam then, the absolute absurdity of his situation.

  Friend.

  She was the reason he’d just had to help Lady Gisela escape!

  Laughter burst out of him at the reminder—cold, erratic sputters.

  And when the frenzy passed, he told her, “You’re not my friend.”

  The room dimmed with the words.

  “I could be,” Glimmer said quietly. “I keep trying.”

  “WHY?” Tam demanded.

  Glimmer shrugged, picking up the tiny cat statue from his bedside table and trailing her finger along its curved tail. “It gets lonely here.”

  “THEN GET OUT OF HERE!” he shouted. “Seriously, Glimmer. See these people for who they really are.”

  “I do!” she insisted, reaching up to adjust her hood. Covering the few strands of her hair that had broken free.

  Tam shook his head. “Then at least… just get out of my room.”

  Glimmer took the cat statue with her.

  Last Night

  “So… this is it,” Glimmer said, leaning against the side of Tam’s doorway. “One more thing and… then you’re out of here.”

  Tam let out a dark laugh. “One more thing.”

  “What else am I supposed to call it?” Glimmer countered.

  Which was true.

  There were no words for the horror Lady Gisela was going to force him to do.

  Or try to force him.

  Please don’t let Keefe be ther
e.

  Please, just ONCE, let Keefe do what someone tells him to do.

  Another dark, bitter laugh slipped through his lips as he considered the chances of that.

  And please don’t let Linh be there.

  Don’t let her see me like this.

  “Wow, you really are always gloomy, aren’t you?” Glimmer asked, crossing her arms. “I thought you’d at least be relieved that it’s almost over.”

  Tam shook his head, trying to decide if Glimmer could really be that naive, or if she was following some script Lady Gisela gave her to keep him hopeful and compliant.

  “You really think she’s going to let me go after I ‘do the thing’ or whatever you want to call it.”

  Glimmer nodded without the slightest hesitation. “You guys have a deal. Once you hold up your end, she’ll hold up hers.”

  “Wow, you really believe that, don’t you?” Tam wondered.

  “Of course. It’s only fair.”

  “Fair,” Tam repeated, wondering why he was still talking. It didn’t matter.

  Don’t make friends.

  But he had to know. “Okay, tell me this, then,” he said slowly, stalking closer. “If I’m right—if Lady Gisela goes back on her word—would you do anything about it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean”—he held up his wrists, showing her his bonds—“you’re the one with the power to set me free. And you think our deal is fair. So if I hold up my end—and Lady Gisela doesn’t hold up hers—would you step in and let me go?”

  Glimmer backed up a step. “I… I don’t know.”

  Tam snorted. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Hey—you’re asking me if I’d betray—”

  “Someone who would’ve just betrayed me,” Tam finished for her. “I’m asking if you’d betray a traitor to do the right thing.”

  “I… I don’t know,” Glimmer repeated.

  “Well,” Tam said slowly, pulling his sleeves back down to cover his bonds. “Maybe you should figure that out.”