So… I guess I can’t really hold it against him.
(But I will keep right on making fun of his stupid silver bangs!)
As for Foster… I probably shouldn’t admit this because it’s super selfish and horrible, but… I’m really glad she was there. It killed me seeing her bound and helpless like that—kills me now just remembering it. And I can only imagine what kind of nightmares she must have.
But… if she hadn’t been there—and hadn’t gone all mega-powerful Telepath and kept our minds connected when the shadows hit me—I don’t know what would’ve happened.
Actually, maybe I do know.
I wanted to retreat into that darkness and never come back. But Sophie called for me. And I came back for her.
I’ll always…
Ugh, I’m back to more sappy, pointless rambling. Pretty sure that proves this project is a waste of time. It hasn’t triggered any new memories. I haven’t learned anything new about stellarlune, or those humans my mom killed, or the letter I delivered, or anything else. Seems like a pretty epic fail. But what else is new?
I guess I can try again later. But I think I’d better take a break, before I write something really embarrassing. Like how I’m pretty sure I’m—
HA!
I’m reckless, but I’m not that reckless!
Not that it matters. I’m going to hide this notebook so well, I doubt I’ll even be able to find it. And I should probably do that now because my ridiculously annoying bodyguard is getting bored. (YEAH, RO—I HEAR YOU LOUD-SIGHING OVER AND OVER. I’M PRETTY SURE EVERY PERSON ON THE PLANET CAN HEAR YOU!!) And when she gets bored, she gets really humiliating ideas.
So… Hunkyhair → out.
Novella
Hi again, everyone!
Yay—you’re still here! I hope that means you enjoyed the first half of this book—though I have a feeling some of you have snuck back here before reading all of that other awesome stuff because you’re dying to know what’s going to happen next to Sophie and her friends. And that’s fine. I won’t judge.
BUT.
Like I said earlier, the novella you’re about to read takes place right after the ending of Legacy, so I need to interrupt this letter for yet another gigantic SPOILER ALERT !
If you haven’t read Legacy yet—and don’t want any of the twists and surprises spoiled—turn and flee immediately! Even the rest of this letter isn’t safe!
I’m going to pause one final time to make sure everyone has heeded my warning.…
…
Okay, back to what I was saying!
The novella you’re about to read is what I’d originally planned as the beginning of Keeper #9—until I realized that I could tell this part of the story better if I broke the usual pattern for the series. The Keeper books are limited to Sophie’s point of view, meaning the only scenes we see are scenes where Sophie is present, and the only thoughts we hear are Sophie’s. And to show how Keefe discovers the ways he’s been affected by what his mother put him through in the final scenes of Legacy, I needed to be able to include his thoughts and show certain moments that he would try to hide from the rest of his friends. So I decided to move this section of the story to here, where I can alternate between Sophie’s and Keefe’s POVs. Each chapter is labeled to let you know whose head we’re in. And don’t worry, this novella may be a little shorter than the Keeper books usually are, but it’s packed with huge revelations! You also definitely need to read it before you read Book 9.
I hope you enjoy every single page. And I promise, I’m writing Keeper #9 as fast as I can!
Happy reading!
xo
- PREFACE - KEEFE
I CAN’T DO THIS.”
The words felt desperate and terrifying—but Keefe could taste the truth behind them. So he didn’t lie or take them back or try to twist them into a joke.
He wanted to.
He missed laughing and pulling pranks and messing around with his friends.
But he wasn’t that guy anymore.
He didn’t know who he was.
All he knew was that he’d changed.
And the powers he’d been given were much too dangerous.
He needed to accept that, and make everyone else accept it too.
They were too busy hoping and planning and pretending that everything was okay.
But it wasn’t okay.
He couldn’t control this—not unless he did something drastic.
Something he definitely didn’t want to do.
But he would.
He had to.
He wasn’t giving up.
He was fighting back his own way.
- ONE - Sophie
SO… HOW DO WE ACCESS the memory?” Sophie asked, pulling free from the deal-sealing handshake to uncover the clear, marble-size gadget that had been pressed between her palm and Councillor Oralie’s.
The tiny blue jewel set into the center of the cache glinted in the afternoon sunlight seeping through the swaying Panakes branches.
Inside was a single Forgotten Secret.
Hopefully filled with the answers Sophie needed.
That was why she’d agreed to work with Oralie, despite barely being able to look at the pretty blond Councillor now that she knew the truth about her.
“Don’t even think about telling me we have to wait,” she warned when Oralie’s delicate features pulled into a frown.
Sophie didn’t have time to be patient anymore.
Or cautious.
Or afraid.
She needed to figure out how to help Keefe, then get back to the Healing Center.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Oralie assured her.
But the crease between her perfectly arched eyebrows deepened, and she kept shifting the way she sat, streaking the skirt of her fluttery pink gown with mud and bits of grass.
“The cache is designed to erase itself if I perform the access sequence incorrectly,” Oralie eventually admitted, “and I’m having a difficult time determining the proper order of the steps.”
“Access sequence?” Sophie repeated. “I thought the memory just needed a password.”
That was what Dex had told her when he was trying to access the secrets hidden in Fintan’s cache—though he’d technically been trying to hack into a fake cache without realizing it at the time.
“The password’s part of it,” Oralie agreed. “But first I have to prove that I’m ‘authorized.’ And no, a Technopath won’t be able to bypass any of the security, if that’s what you’re about to suggest. Even someone as talented as Dex.”
Sophie groaned, wishing she could grab the cache and fling it off one of Havenfield’s cliffs—or maybe at Oralie’s head. But the memory inside had something to do with stellarlune—the term Keefe’s mom had used for the creepy things she’d done to herself and her husband before she got pregnant.
An experiment of sorts.
Designed to make Keefe ready for whatever “legacy” his mom had been planning for him.
And there had turned out to be a second, horrifying step to the process.
Sophie tried everything to stop it, but in the end, all she could do was watch as Lady Gisela forced Tam to use his ability as a Shade to dissolve the dwarven king’s magsidian throne after Keefe had been bound to it—and then ordered a Flasher who called herself Glimmer to blast the ethertine crown that had been placed on Keefe’s head. Exposing Keefe to massive amounts of shadowflux and quintessence to trigger…
Something.
Sophie had no idea what.
Lady Gisela had managed to escape—again—without giving any further insights into her son’s condition. And Keefe had been unconscious ever since.
But Elwin could tell that Keefe’s cells were going through some sort of transformation—which was the same horrible word that Lady Gisela kept using to describe what she hoped would happen to her son if he “embraced the change.” And while Elwin seemed convinced that Keefe was simply manifesting a new speci
al ability—that still sounded absolutely terrifying. Especially since Sophie had a feeling that would only be the beginning.
They wouldn’t know for sure until Keefe woke up.
If he—
She managed to shut down that bleak thought before it could fully form. But she couldn’t stop the bigger worries from screaming around her brain like a freaked-out banshee.
What if Keefe wasn’t Keefe anymore?
What if he joined the Neverseen for real?
What if he turned into—
“No.”
She said the word out loud to silence all the mental noise.
She’d stayed telepathically connected to Keefe the entire time the shadowflux and quintessence were tearing through his system, and he’d still been him.
He’d also been having some very Keefe-like dreams now that he was safely in the Healing Center.
Plus, Keefe was much too stubborn to ever let his mom win.
But Lady Gisela is just as stubborn, her brain had to remind her. And she isn’t done with Keefe yet.
She’ll never be done with him.
Not until she gets what she wants.
Or someone kills her…
“What are you doing?” Oralie asked as Sophie jumped to her feet, needing to move—pace—something.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t look up the sequence to open the cache before you came here,” Sophie grumbled. “You knew we were going to need it.”
Oralie’s pink lips flickered with a hint of a smile. “It’s not as if there’s an instruction manual, Sophie. Quite the opposite, actually. The knowledge was divided into pieces and scattered throughout my consciousness—and sadly, using your telepathy won’t help, since false instructions were buried with everything else, and you’d never be able to tell which are which.”
“Okay,” Sophie said, tugging out an eyelash as she walked a slow circle around the trunk of Calla’s Panakes tree. “Then how do we figure it out?”
“We don’t—though I appreciate your spirit of teamwork. And I understand your urgency. I feel it too. But I’m still going to need a minute to think.”
Sophie gritted her teeth and went back to circling, tapping her fingers against the coarse, braided bark to distract herself.
But one minute turned into two.
Then three.
Four.
“You know, for years I’ve had to hear about how perfect and safe your world is supposed to be,” Sophie muttered, kicking the grass. “And yet you guys sure did put a lot of obnoxiously complicated security measures into place.”
“I think you mean our world,” Oralie corrected.
Sophie shrugged.
The Lost Cities were her home now—and she wouldn’t ever want to leave them.
But sometimes she felt… disconnected.
“You’re not wrong about the contradiction,” Oralie admitted, reaching for a fallen Panakes blossom. “We’ve been playing both sides for far too long. Convincing ourselves that we’re above the problems plaguing the other intelligent species, all while still attempting to prepare for any worst-case scenarios—through rather convoluted methods, I’ll even admit. We wanted to believe that we’re superior. And we are, in certain ways. But… I can’t help wondering if things would be different right now if we’d simply accepted from the beginning that the power we have is both our greatest asset and our largest vulnerability.”
“Or maybe things would be different if you stopped trying to control everyone all the time,” Sophie suggested.
That was what the whole mess boiled down to.
A ridiculous power struggle.
The Neverseen thought they should be in charge—and they’d convinced others to join their cause by pointing out the Council’s mistakes.
Uncovering lies the Councillors had told.
Highlighting injustices they’d allowed.
And the scariest part was: The Neverseen weren’t wrong.
They just had really cruel solutions to all of the problems—at least as far as Sophie could tell. She’d only uncovered tiny fragments of their plans, and she still had no idea how to fit the pieces together.
The Neverseen were too smart to give anything away until they were ready to put their schemes into action.
But Sophie had to get ahead of them this time—had to stop them from dragging Keefe in any deeper.
Unless she was already too late…
“Ruling this planet is no easy task,” Oralie told her. “We do the best we can.”
Maybe they did. But the Council’s “best” didn’t seem to be good enough anymore—assuming it ever had been. And Sophie was tempted to remind Oralie that no one had asked the elves to put themselves in charge.
But she needed to stay focused.
“What exactly do you remember from the instructions?” she asked, pointing to the cache.
Oralie stood, holding the tiny crystal up to eye level. “I know it needs my blood, sweat, and tears. I’m just not sure if that’s the right order to give them in. It might be tears, sweat, then blood. Or sweat, tears, then blood. Or sweat, blood, and tears. Or blood, tears, then—”
“Is there someone you can ask?” Sophie cut in. “What about Bronte?”
“Councillor Bronte would not support my decision to come here. Nor would any of the other Councillors. They believe the Forgotten Secrets should remain forgotten.”
“Then why bother storing the memories in the first place?” Sophie countered.
“Because it’s important to have a record somewhere, in case of an extreme emergency.”
“Well this—”
“Isn’t,” Oralie finished for her. “At least not as far as the rest of the Council is concerned. In fact, several Councillors feel that the uncertainty behind Keefe’s condition would best be managed medicinally—or by containing him.”
Bile soured Sophie’s tongue. “They wouldn’t order Elwin to keep him sedated, would they? Or lock him away in Exile?”
Or both.
She couldn’t bring herself to voice the last option, in case it gave the Council ideas.
Exile’s somnatorium was real.
Sophie had walked through its disturbingly silent halls.
“I won’t let that happen,” Oralie promised. “But the more information we have about what the Neverseen are planning for him, the better. Why do you think I’m here? I told you, I’m done hiding from the darker truths in our world. I’m ready to face them—even if it means violating my oaths. I just can’t count on any help from the rest of the Council. Particularly because I’m working with you.”
Sophie frowned. “But, I’m a Regent now. And the leader of Team Valiant! If they don’t trust me—”
“This isn’t about trust. It’s about risk. Like you said, you’ve become quite valuable to the Council. They’ve finally realized exactly how much they need you. So to put you in danger this way—”
“I’m always in danger!” Sophie pointed to where Sandor stood sentry by Verdi’s pasture—then to where Flori watched them from the edge of the tree line.
She’d gotten so used to being shadowed by bodyguards that she could almost forget they were there—particularly since she was down to only two now that Nubiti was the new queen of the dwarves. Tarina was still ironing things out with her empress after the incident with the illegal troll hive, and Bo was protecting Tam and Linh.
“This is a different level of danger,” Oralie insisted. “You’ve never dealt with a Forgotten Secret before.”
“Uh, pretty sure I have,” Sophie argued, loud enough to make sure Sandor heard the reminder. The last thing she needed was to have him think she was stepping into a new level of uncharted dangerous territory and shift into overprotective-goblin mode. “Someone’s cache has to be filled with all of the things Vespera did to get herself locked up in Lumenaria’s dungeon. But the Council didn’t bother coming clean after she escaped, so I got to learn about her crimes the hard way.”
The very hard wa
y.
Like, having her human parents captured and tortured after Vespera went back to work on her evil experiments.
And Biana had scars all over her back, arms, and shoulders from when Vespera tried to kill her.
“I suppose you’re right,” Oralie murmured. “But that should make you all the more cautious. Forgotten Secrets aren’t erased simply to protect the sanity of the Councillors. They’re often truths that could send our world spiraling into chaos.”
“Yeah, well, what else is new?” Sophie’s eyes locked with Sandor’s, and thankfully he didn’t argue.
But he did seem to be gripping the hilt of his giant black sword a whole lot tighter.
Oralie stepped closer. “I’m not telling you this because I’m going back on our deal—or because I’m trying to scare you. I just… need to make sure you’re truly prepared for the turbulent waters ahead. I can’t bear having any more regrets when it comes to you.”
Sophie rolled her eyes.
The words were probably meant to be touching—but she knew all Oralie was really trying to do was allay her own guilt if something bad happened.
Oralie sighed. “I realize you’re angry with me, Sophie. And I’m not trying to start another fight. But regardless of what you may think, I do… care about you. And someday I hope you’ll understand the difficult position I—”
“I won’t!”
“You might. Things feel so much bigger when you’re young. So much more absolute. But… love isn’t as black-and-white as you believe it to be. It comes in many colors, many forms—”
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure none of them involve lying to someone for years, or signing your daughter up to be part of a genetic experiment!”
“It can,” Oralie whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist, “when that’s the only way to have a daughter.”
The last word sounded different than the others, and for a second, Sophie found herself meeting Oralie’s stare and wishing the Black Swan had made her an Empath. Then she would’ve been able to tell if the sadness and longing she could see in Oralie’s eyes were actually real.
But it didn’t matter.
Unlocked 8.5 (Keeper of the Lost Cities) Page 27