Biana shuddered.
Fitz swallowed hard, blinking several times before he turned to Sophie, his eyes absolutely unreadable. “Is it wrong that I’m not sorry?”
Sophie needed a second before she could answer. “No. Not after what he did. And . . . he had lots of chances.”
Fitz nodded and went back to staring at the floating body.
What if I told you I stopped pressing buttons? he transmitted quietly.
I . . . don’t know what that means, Sophie admitted.
There was a moment, as the cubby was filling. Alvar was pounding on the glass, shouting things. And . . . I looked at the panel and realized one of the buttons probably opened up a drain. And I stopped pressing things.
Sophie’s mouth went dry with the confession, and her insides twisted all kinds of horrible ways. But . . . she knew what he needed.
She tapped her fingernails to trigger Tinker’s gadgets and gently twined her fingers with his scabbed hand, struggling to think of something to say. The best she could come up with was something Mr. Forkle had told her:
Life is a series of hard choices.
It didn’t sound very comforting. But Fitz tangled his fingers with hers and she tried to stand there with him, supporting him any way she could.
But every time the shadows shifted and she caught another glimpse of Alvar’s lifeless face, the walls closed in and her chest tightened and finally she had to drop his hand, mumbling about needing air as she stumbled for the exit.
And Keefe was right where she’d left him—right where he’d said he’d be—his arms stretched out and ready to catch her, like he’d known she’d be dizzy and heaving by the time she finally fled.
He didn’t say a word as he led her over to another cluster of trees, one that was far enough away that she couldn’t see or smell anything from that horrible place. He helped her lower herself to the grass, and she tapped her fingers to bring back her enhancing as he sat down beside her, holding her hands and filling her mind with soothing breezes.
“You okay?” he asked when her breathing steadied.
“I think so,” she whispered. “Just . . . kind of in shock.”
He nodded. “Sounds about right.”
“Pretty sure we all are,” Dex said quietly as he made his way over, followed by Linh, Marella, and Wylie.
“I have a feeling we’re going to have to drag them out of there when it’s time to seal the hive,” Tam added as he joined them.
Sophie blinked. Right. They had to seal the hive.
With Alvar in there.
Now she understood what Keefe meant by “complicated.”
“How much longer do we have before we have to seal it?” Sophie whispered, barely getting the words past her dry throat.
“Tarina said we could give them another hour,” Tam said. “But not much more than that.”
“I hailed Alden and Della,” Keefe added quietly. “In case they wanted to . . . you know . . . I think they’re going to try to rush over as soon as they can break free from all the chaos at the festival—and don’t worry,” Keefe added, sending another calming breeze into Sophie’s head, “he said everyone’s safe over there. It sounded like something big went down with my mom, but no one was hurt.”
No one was hurt.
Sophie clung to the words, repeating them over and over in her head, reminding herself how incredibly lucky they’d been. Once again they’d miscalculated the Neverseen’s plans—and hadn’t been nearly as ready as they should’ve been. And yet: No one was hurt.
The Neverseen couldn’t say the same. They’d lost two members. Maybe that made this a turning point in their ongoing game. The first time the other players truly slipped.
After all, the Neverseen had also miscalculated—scrambling almost as much as she and her friends had. And they’d ended up fleeing like cowards after losing two of their members.
Maybe they—
“Care to share any of the thoughts behind this sudden burst of confidence I’m picking up on, Foster?” Keefe asked, jolting her out of her interior monologue. “I’m pretty sure we could all use that kind of boost after what we just lived through.”
She supposed he had a point.
But before she could get more than a few words out, Silveny’s voice crashed into her head, shouting, SOPHIE! KEEFE! TAM! HELP! HURRY!
FIFTY-ONE
SILVENY ASKED FOR ME?” TAM murmured. “Why?”
“No idea,” Sophie admitted, trying to remember if Tam and Silveny had ever spent any actual time together. “All I know is, she keeps transmitting it over and over: ‘SOPHIE! KEEFE! TAM! HELP! HURRY!’ ”
“Do you think the babies are hatching?” Dex asked.
Sophie reached up to rub her temples. “They’re not supposed to be. But I can’t think of anything else Silveny would need.”
Not unless she let her mind imagine all kinds of terrifying things—and she was trying very hard not to do that. There had to be a logical explanation.
Silveny wouldn’t drag her into danger without any warning.
“But why would she want Keefe and my brother there, if this is about the babies?” Linh wondered.
“Uh, she wants me there because she knows I’m awesome at everything,” Keefe jumped in, “and she’s bringing in Bangs Boy because she clearly needs to rethink her life choices.”
He smirked as he said it, but it looked super forced, and Sophie knew he was only trying to ease her rising panic.
“We’re wasting too much time,” she realized. “Silveny wouldn’t push for help like this if it wasn’t important, so we need to go—now. Ro, since you’re right here, will you be our designated bodyguard?”
Ro raised one eyebrow. “I think what you meant to say is that since I’m the most powerful, amazing bodyguard you’ve ever met, you desperately need my protection during this risky endeavor you’re about to embark on with your friends.”
“Right,” Sophie mumbled. “That.”
“Deep breaths, Foster,” Keefe said with a quick glare at the ogre princess. “We made it through everything else tonight—we’ll make it through this.”
Sophie nodded blankly. “Okay, can someone please find Sandor and Tarina and tell them what’s happening?”
Linh promised she would—pulling her brother in for a hug and making him swear he’d be extra careful. Then Sophie was tapping her fingers to make sure she blocked her enhancing, and she reached for Keefe’s and Tam’s hands. As soon as Ro completed the circle, Tam launched them off the ground faster and smoother than Fitz ever had, thanks to his years at Exillium, leaving them hovering so high up, it looked like they could touch the moon.
The eclipse had completed its cycle, and it should’ve felt like proof that they were past anything the Neverseen had planned for that evening. But it mostly reminded Sophie that this endless night still wasn’t over. So when they crashed into the void, Sophie decided to set them down in the forest beyond the illusions that kept the alicorns’ hive hidden—that way she could check in with the guards and make sure there was nothing they needed to know before heading in.
But the guards were nowhere to be found.
“If the alicorns are hatching, the caretakers at the hive might’ve called the guards over to help,” Keefe suggested—which sorta made sense. Except . . . the guards weren’t supposed to know the hive existed.
The forest also felt much too dark and quiet.
And Silveny’s transmissions had reached a whole new decibel.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Sophie whispered as they reached the edge of the illusion—the point where their next step would take them into whatever reality was waiting for them over at the hive. “But . . . I’m getting a bad feeling. So promise me—no matter what happens—we’ll stick together, okay?”
Tam and Keefe eyed each other for a second before they nodded.
Ro drew her sword.
“All right,” Sophie murmured. “Here goes.”
She reached f
or Keefe’s and Tam’s hands again, taking a long breath to shove the monster somewhere she could manage it. Then together, they stepped through the illusion. It looked like they were tumbling off a cliff, but in reality, their feet touched down on the same solid ground they’d been standing on before, and the light and shadows rippled around them, revealing the alicorns’ tower silhouetted against the dark sky.
Silveny and Greyfell stood outside with their wings flared wide, and Silveny’s transmissions screeched to a halt as her eyes locked with Sophie’s. Silence swelled inside Sophie’s mind, along with a choking wave of regret and something that felt like desperation as both alicorns lowered their wings to reveal a female standing between them.
Keefe’s mom.
SORRY! Silveny transmitted as Keefe’s grip went slack from shock. BABY DANGER! BABY DANGER!
Sophie had no doubt of that.
It’s fine! she promised the guilty alicorn. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.
Out loud, she asked, “What do you want?”
Lady Gisela reached up to smooth a strand of her blond hair into her beaded headpiece—which she’d probably worn to block Sophie’s abilities—and it took Sophie a second to realize why that gesture felt so significant. For months and months, ever since Fintan had tortured her and locked her away in an ogre prison, Keefe’s mom had hidden her face behind the hood of her black cloak. But now she stood boldly uncovered before them. And there was no sign of the brutal scars that Sophie had been imagining. Instead, her pale skin looked sort of . . . stretched—like the human women Sophie sometimes saw growing up who’d had too much plastic surgery.
“You all look as tired as I feel,” Lady Gisela said, her ice blue eyes lingering on her son. “So let’s get right down to this, shall we?”
“Yes, let’s,” Ro agreed, whipping a dagger at Lady Gisela’s head.
Keefe’s mom sighed, looking gloriously bored as she reached up and snatched the dagger out of the air, mere inches from the tip of her nose. “Guess that means it’s my turn,” she said, raising her other hand, which held a familiar silver-nozzled weapon.
She aimed for Greyfell’s face, pulling the trigger in the same smooth motion and shooting the male alicorn right between the eyes.
Whinnies and screams pierced Sophie’s eardrums, and her knees threatened to give out as she imagined bullets and blood—but some tiny part of her brain reminded her that she’d seen that weapon before. And when she managed to focus, she found that the splatter covering Greyfell’s shimmering fur was blue, not red—and instead of an oozing wound, he had a congealed blue blob sinking into his skin.
“You remember how soporidine works, don’t you?” Keefe’s mom asked as black veins bulged across Greyfell’s body, and the mighty male alicorn collapsed. She said something else after that, but Sophie couldn’t hear it over her pounding heart and the roaring monster and Silveny’s panicked transmissions—until Lady Gisela shifted her weapon to Silveny and shot her just below her shimmering horn.
The mama alicorn crumpled like a piece of paper, and the only thing that stopped Sophie from doing the same was Keefe, who wrapped his arm around her waist as his other hand pressed his palm against hers. After a few seconds, Sophie remembered to tap her fingers to bring back her enhancing, and her mind flooded with calming breezes.
“Well done, Keefe,” Lady Gisela told him. “You’ve always been the best at keeping Sophie together during these stressful situations. That’s why I had Silveny ask for you when I made her send those transmissions. I need the moonlark to focus—you with me, Sophie?” She waited for Sophie to nod before she added, “Good. Now. As I was trying to say, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen us use soporidine. We have to conserve our supply, after all. So just to make sure we’re all on the same page: The dose I just gave your precious alicorns is half of what I gave Ro in Atlantis. Which means we have a little time to chat before things become fatal—but not too much, so I’d recommend keeping your interruptions to yourself. The sooner we settle things, the sooner I can give you this.”
She dropped Ro’s dagger, letting the blade sink point-first into the ground, so that she could reach into her pocket and retrieve two vials, each containing an orange blob. “This is the antidote that Silveny and Greyfell need. And I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she warned, pointing her silver weapon at Ro’s chest and freezing the ogre princess midlunge. “Another fun fact about soporidine: Your body reacts more harshly to it every time you’re exposed. So considering how close you came to dying last time, I’d recommend spending the rest of this conversation right where you are. Same goes for whatever you’re doing with those shadows, Tam.” Her eyes flicked to the Shade. “There’s no reason for you to bring pain upon yourself. How about we make a deal instead?”
Sophie stood up straighter. “We’ll never give you the baby alicorns.”
“Yes, I figured you might say that, considering our location. The good news is, I don’t want them. My plans now go far beyond trying to blackmail the Council with the Timeline to Extinction.”
“Then why are we here?” Keefe demanded.
His mom smiled. “Just because I don’t personally want the babies doesn’t make them any less valuable. I knew the second Umber followed you here that it would be a crucial bargaining chip. Mind you, I’d been planning to use it for something else, but . . . circumstances change.”
“When did Umber follow us here?” Sophie asked—then shivered when her brain dredged up the answer. “Wait—was she that presence Fitz and I felt in the forest?”
Lady Gisela nodded. “Umber can track your echoes—or . . . she could. Before . . .” She heaved a heavy sigh. “So much talent, wasted by such a senseless accident.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” Sophie argued. “Tarina warned her not to open that door.”
“Yes, I saw.”
“How?” Keefe asked. “I thought you were at the festival.”
“I was. You still haven’t pieced it together?” She laughed at their blank stares. “Well, I suppose you have been a bit busy tonight. But I thought for sure you would’ve realized that the reason Vespera kept talking about showing the world was because everything that happened at Everglen was broadcast at the festival—that way everyone got to see the truth about what Luzia Vacker has been doing. And they got to see proof that no matter how brave and determined the moonlark and her friends may be, they’re still no match for those with true power.”
“Really?” Keefe asked. “Seems to me like they got to see you guys unleash something you didn’t understand, then cower under a force field for a bit and finally flee without even recovering the body of your fallen friend. I’m sure everyone was super impressed.”
Lady Gisela’s eyes darkened. “I’ll admit—certain things didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. That’s the problem with letting Vespera arrange the plan. She overcomplicates everything. Leaves room for costly mistakes. I much prefer to keep things simple. Like what we’re here for right now: a simple exchange. I have what you want”—she waved the vials of antidote—“and you have what I need.”
“And what’s that?” Sophie demanded.
“Yes, I suppose we should get to that, shouldn’t we? After all, there’s no telling what kind of damage the soporidine is doing to your alicorns. Every minute we waste—”
“Then tell us already!” Keefe snapped.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Her eyes shifted to Tam. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering why I brought you here. And the simple truth is, I need a new Shade.”
Tam snorted. “So, what, you’re here to kidnap me?”
“No. Kidnappings never work—we learned that the hard way with Sophie. I’m here to recruit you—officially. We started the process months ago, after you made such an impression on us in Atlantis. Why do you think I sent Umber to attack Sophie and Fitz with shadowflux?” She grinned when Sophie flinched. “I knew their injuries would inspire you to finally start training in the power—and I must say,
it worked out even better than I anticipated. I saw you in action tonight. Very impressive. Still lacking Umber’s experience, but we should be able to get you up to speed in time—assuming we get started right away. Which is why I’m here.”
She jingled the vials of antidote again, and Sophie had to laugh. “You think you’re the only one with the antidote to soporidine? Fintan gave us a stash months ago.”
“I’m sure he did. But hasn’t that photographic memory of yours noticed that both the soporidine I used and the antidote I’m offering are different colors than the ones I used on the princess? We made dozens of variations, and you need this type to save your sparkly winged friends. They won’t survive without it. And if that’s not enough motivation for you, let’s not forget that I could march into that hive right now and shoot soporidine into the gel the babies are developing in. How long do you think they’d last? One hour? Two? Who knows if the cure could even undo the damage?”
“UGH—DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF RIGHT NOW?” Keefe shouted. “HOW CAN YOU BE THIS CREEPY?”
“I never said I want these things to happen, Keefe,” she said calmly. “I’m very much hoping it doesn’t come to that. But it’s not up to me. It’s up to him.” Her eyes focused back on Tam, who’d gone ghostly pale. “Oh, relax, it’s not nearly as traumatic as you’re thinking. All I’m asking right now is for you to give us a chance. Come with me. See what our cause truly is. As long as you don’t make any trouble, you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“You’ll also be their prisoner,” Keefe jumped in. “You think they’ll just let you go home after that? You think they won’t make more threats? Today it’s the alicorns—but what about tomorrow? Who will they go after next?”
“That’s easy,” Lady Gisela said, tucking another strand of hair into her hairpiece. “We’ll go after Linh. We’re already set up for it. If I give the word, chaos could rain down on your twin within a matter of hours. Is that really what you want?”
Flashback (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 7) Page 60