“Yes, well, Glimmer has much to learn as well. There’s a way to be bold and brave and stand up to your enemies without forgetting that actions have consequences.”
Sophie nodded, twisting a loose string on the edge of her sleeve as she worked up the courage to ask, “What consequences are going to come from what I did today?”
Mr. Forkle blew out a breath. “I wish I knew. But that’s how it always goes with hard decisions. I had no idea what would happen when I helped create a powerful young girl—a fearless moonlark. I just knew she was going to change the game. And now… she has. You have. And I’m proud of you. I believe in you. And I’m here to help you and guide you as much as I can.”
Sophie couldn’t think of what to say to that.
Was she supposed to say “thanks”?
Be grateful he’d dumped this impossible responsibility on her shoulders?
Maybe.
And maybe someday she’d even feel that way.
Someday when this was all over and life was normal again, maybe she’d look back and be glad she got to play a part.
Assuming that day ever happened.
But for now, she let her silence speak for itself—let it hold all her fear and uncertainty.
“I believe in you,” he repeated. “I believe in my moonlark. In fact, I’d love to see the symbol you created. Will you show it to me?”
Sophie stood, making her way to Tiergan’s desk and grabbing a pen and paper. She wasn’t an awesome artist like Keefe, but she sketched the simple lines she’d carved into the ground, adding a few extra curves and flourishes before she handed the page to Mr. Forkle.
His lips curled with another smile. “Now, that’s a symbol. You should start using this.”
“For what?” Sophie asked.
“You’ll know when the time comes,” he told her, which was such a cheating way to answer.
He laughed when she scowled.
“Just let it bring fear and hope to people, Miss Foster. And let it remind you to be strong and smart. Use it to change the game—but make sure you win the right way. And never forget that moonlarks can’t do everything on their own. Not even you.”
Sophie nodded.
“Good.” He stuffed the paper into one of the pockets in his cape. “I’m keeping this. And I’m going to let you keep those caches—but don’t think we’re not going to talk about your plans for those very soon.”
“I don’t actually have any plans,” Sophie told him.
Which was true, since she really didn’t want to have to go back to working with Oralie.
But she would probably have to.
“I know you don’t,” he told her. “But you will. You’ll figure it all out in time. That’s what leaders do. For now, how about you sit back down and tell me more about destroying this storehouse?”
“Why?” Sophie asked—but she still returned to one of the ottomans.
He smiled his widest smile yet. “Because we need to celebrate the victories.”
- SIXTEEN - Keefe
I have no idea what I’m doing,” Keefe whispered, “but it’s going to be okay.”
He’d said those words to himself several dozen times since he’d fled Elwin’s house. And now he was saying them again to a tiny, caged imp—who narrowed his watery green eyes, looking about as dubious as Keefe felt.
“Trust me, this will be your best look yet—you’ll see,” he promised, keeping his voice extra soft in case his new ability worked on furry creatures. Plus, it’d be super bad if he got caught sneaking into Foster’s room and messing with her pet. “Just give this a little drinky-drink for me, and let the awesomeness happen.”
He pressed a vial against Iggy’s lips, and the feisty imp unleashed a cage-rattling fart to punish him. But he also slurped down the thick syrup—a mix of five different elixirs, which Keefe had concocted from one of his prank stashes during the quick stop he’d made at the Shores of Solace.
Thankfully, Daddy Dearest hadn’t been home, so he’d been able to grab the final thing he needed and get away without any drama.
“Ooo, it’s working—what did I tell you?” Keefe scratched Iggy’s fuzzy cheeks, filling the room with the sound of squeaky purring as Iggy’s fluffy fur slowly changed colors—green in some patches. Blue and purple in others.
Some spots even merged into a soft teal tone, which made Keefe want to roll his eyes and grumble about Fitzphie.
But Foster would love it.
And honestly, he hoped Fitz would step up and become whoever and whatever she needed him to be.
She deserved that.
She deserved to be happy.
“Huh, that’s unexpected,” he said as tiny black tiger stripes streaked across Iggy’s body. Keefe wasn’t sure which of the elixirs had caused something like that. He’d just thrown his favorites together, trying to create something memorable.
At least he’d gotten that right.
“You look fabulous,” he assured Iggy. “I’m definitely going to win the prize for Best Imp Stylist.”
Not that he’d be around to claim his victory.
Or to see Foster’s reaction.
But that was probably better, since a colorful, stripy imp wasn’t the only surprise he was leaving for her.
He pulled the letter he’d written from his pocket and carried Iggy’s cage over to the giant canopied bed, setting both on the pillow so there was no way anyone would miss them.
His brain kept screaming at him to tear the letter up and rewrite it. But there was no time for that.
Plus… it was better to be honest, wasn’t it?
“If you chew this,” he warned, showing Iggy the crinkled envelope, “I will shave you bald—you hear me?”
Iggy burped in his face.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” But just to be extra safe, he slid the cage on top of the letter to weigh it down.
And… that was it.
There was nothing left for him to do.
Except leave.
“Bite anyone who tries to hurt her, okay?” he told Iggy. “Or better yet, just fart in their face.”
Iggy burped again, making the room smell like rotting umber leaves.
Keefe gagged. “Burping works too. Just… take care of her.”
He might’ve been imagining it, but he could’ve sworn the tiny imp nodded.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
And now he was definitely stalling, so it was time to go.
But… his legs wouldn’t cooperate.
Or they wouldn’t until a familiar voice behind him said, “Keefe?”
Then Keefe was ready to smash a Keefe-shaped hole through the wall.
Instead, he squared his shoulders and forced himself to turn and face Sophie’s adoptive father—who looked…
Extra murder-y.
“What are you doing in my house—in my daughter’s room—without permission?” Grady demanded, which made it pretty clear the conversation was not going to go well.
Keefe couldn’t risk using his voice, so he shrugged and pointed at Iggy’s cage, wiggling his hands like, Ta-da—fancy new imp colors!
“That’s right—I heard you aren’t talking now.” Grady’s eyes focused on the sealed envelope with Sophie’s name written across it. “Is that what the letter’s for? Trying to keep in touch?”
Nodding would’ve been easier.
Grady probably would’ve dropped the subject.
But for some reason, Keefe shook his head.
Grady sighed. “Yeah. I was afraid of that. And I’m guessing I don’t want to know what you wrote in there.”
That time Keefe definitely nodded.
Grady’s jaw tightened—and his teeth made a painful grinding sound when he took a longer look at Keefe, focusing on Keefe’s backpack. “Going somewhere?”
Keefe nodded again.
“For how long?”
Keefe shrugged.
However long it took for all of this to be over.
That time Grady
’s sigh sounded more like a growl. “You tried this already, remember? And it was a total disaster! So why don’t you do everyone a favor and tear that letter up, go home, and not do whatever you’re planning? We’ll say you came here to change Iggy’s color and that’s it. Deal?”
He held out his hand for Keefe to shake, and Keefe really wished he could take it.
But he backed a step away, trying to think of some combination of gestures that would explain why this plan was way different from the last one.
“Look,” Grady told him, stalking closer and grabbing Keefe’s shoulders. “I’m sure you think you’re doing the right thing—but you’re not. This is not the time to run off and do something reckless.”
“I know,” Keefe whispered, deciding to risk using the two tiny words.
He wanted to say so much more, but he could feel Grady’s emotions swirling—a whole lot of stinging anger and bitter frustration—and didn’t trust his voice to stay even.
Grady shook his head and dropped his hands. “You don’t understand, Keefe. Everything’s about to get really messy. Sophie burned down the Neverseen’s storehouse today.”
Keefe’s eyebrows shot up so high, they felt like they were stretching his face.
“Yeah,” Grady said quietly. “Apparently she gets in even more trouble without you there. Who knew?”
Keefe’s lips pulled into a smile, even though it really wasn’t funny.
He closed his eyes, taking several calming breaths before chancing one quick question. “Is she okay?”
“For now.” Grady made his way over to the bed and sank down on the edge, looking more exhausted than Keefe had ever seen him when he added, “I’m sure it won’t be long before the Neverseen retaliate. And I have a horrible feeling it’ll be their cruelest attack yet. Sandor’s working on new security strategies, but you and I both know how stubborn Sophie can be about that kind of thing. And… honestly… as much as I don’t understand your friendship… she does listen to you sometimes. And rely on you. And… I think she’s going to need you for this next part.”
Keefe wasn’t sure that was true.
But Grady had to be pretty desperate to tell him that.
In fact, he could feel Grady’s worry hanging over them like heavy storm clouds.
It made him want to shred that letter and run back to Elwin’s and tell Ro, JUST KIDDING—DON’T BE MAD.
But he was right this time.
He could feel it.
“I really have to go,” he whispered.
Grady closed his eyes.
“I’m not going to pretend like I know what you’re going through,” he told Keefe. “But… I do know what it’s like to have a daunting power. And I respect how hard you’re fighting to get control. You just need to believe in yourself. You will figure this out, with time and training and practice and—”
Keefe grabbed Grady’s arm, waiting for him to look at him before he shook his head.
“I have to go,” he said, risking that tiny bit of emphasis. “I’m sorry. I wish…”
There were so many ways he wanted to finish that sentence—so many hopes and dreams and fears and frustrations.
But he kept them all to himself.
None of them were options anymore.
He had one choice left.
And he had to make it.
No matter what it cost him.
Grady tilted his head to study him, like he was trying to solve a riddle.
He must’ve found some sort of answer because he stood and said, “Okay. If that’s what you need to do, I’m not going to stop you.”
Keefe nodded, feeling his chest tighten and his eyes burn as reached into his pocket for his pathfinder.
He had to get out of there before he broke down crying.
But Grady put a hand on his shoulder. “Wait, I need you to take this with you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Imparter. “I promise, I’ll only use it for an emergency. I just… I have a feeling Sophie’s going to need you before this is all over. So please, keep it in your pocket—and swear to me that you’ll answer if I hail you.”
Keefe swallowed hard, clearing his throat several times to make sure the words were a request, not a command, before he said, “You can’t tell Foster you have a way to reach me.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Grady promised.
Keefe nodded, grabbing the Imparter and shoving it into his pocket as Grady’s words replayed in his head.
Sophie’s going to need you.
He didn’t think she would.
He knew she would keep right on being her brave, powerful, awesome self and show his mom why the moonlark would always be better and smarter and stronger than anyone else.
“Thank you,” Grady said, giving Keefe’s arm a gentle squeeze before letting him go.
Keefe took one last look around the room, and when he got to Iggy’s cage—and the letter underneath—he realized he’d reached another point of no return.
He’d had a lot of those in his life.
But this was a big one.
And the right one.
He just had to be brave.
“Take care of yourself,” Grady told him as Keefe pulled out the pathfinder he’d stolen from his dad. And it was obvious that Grady noticed that the crystal was cobalt blue.
“I’ll try,” Keefe promised.
It was the best he could do.
Then he stepped into the path and let the blue light carry him far away.
To the Mysterious Miss F!
Ugh—I’m already regretting starting this letter that way. But I don’t have any extra paper, and crossing it out would look worse, so… I guess we’ll just have to add it to my list of mistakes.
And I know you’re going to think that everything I’m about to say should also be on that long list of Keefe Fails. But I swear—that’s NOT what this is. I’m not trying to fix everything or save everyone this time. I’m just trying to make sure I don’t hurt anyone.
I can’t tell you more than that without putting you in danger, so just… trust me when I say that the powers my mom gave me are super bad. There seriously aren’t strong enough words to explain how horrible they are. And I CAN’T control them—just like I can’t stop my mom from forcing me to use them.
So… this is the only way. I don’t want to do it. But I have to.
And I’m not going to ask you not to hate me. In fact, it might be better if you do, because I need you to PROMISE that you won’t try to find me. My mom will be waiting for you to track me down—and since I know how stubborn you are, I want to make sure you understand who you’d be putting in danger.
I’m going to be hiding the same way the Black Swan hid you.
That’s why you have to stay away. Well, there are lots of reasons. So again, please, just… trust me, okay?
And since this is the last time I’ll ever talk to you, I just… I want to say that I’m really going to miss you. You mean a lot to me, Foster. More than you’ll ever know.
Please be careful. Please be happy. And PLEASE forget all about me.
It’ll be better for everyone that way. You’ll see.
Love,
Keefe
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’m sure you guys all turned the page thinking, There’s absolutely no way Shannon Messenger would end this book without showing us Sophie’s reaction to Keefe’s letter! Even with all her evil cliff-hangers, she would never do THAT!
And yet…
Don’t worry, we’ll pick up Sophie’s story in Book 9—which I’m writing as fast as I can.
AND I REALLY DO LOVE YOU GUYS. I SWEAR!!! YOU’RE ALL AMAZING AND AWESOME AND FABULOUS AND BRILLIANT—AND HAVE I MENTIONED YOU’RE ALSO PATIENT AND FORGIVING???
*considers going into hiding*
Torturous endings aside, I hope you guys loved this book as much as I do. I’ve never written a project like this, and it was such an amazing experience working with a truly incredible team. So many brilliant pe
ople shared their time and talent to make Unlocked Book 8.5 come together, I don’t even know where to begin! But I guess I’ll start with the phenomenal illustrators who contributed their stunning art to this book.
To Francesca Baerald: Thank you for taking that horrible sketch I sent you and creating the most gorgeous map I’ve ever seen. You truly are a genius for figuring out how to organize everything.
To Jason Chan: Thank you, thank you, thank you for another perfect cover. Not gonna lie, I got a little teary seeing my brave girl flying all by herself on her alicorn.
To Felia Hanakata: Thank you for taking on the daunting task of trying to make drawings of plants and clothes and foods seem exciting—and then knocking it out of the park on every illustration. (Also: Those stuffed animal drawings have made my life.)
To Laura Hollingsworth: You seriously outdo yourself with every piece and have managed to capture my characters so perfectly that sometimes I wonder if you peeked inside my brain. (You’re not a Telepath, are you???)
Of course I also have to thank the myriad of people at Simon & Schuster who managed to make such a complicated project happen—and during such an especially complicated year, no less—including Liesa Abrams Mignogna and Jessica Smith (who truly were the wonder editing team!), Rebecca Vitkus and Elizabeth Mims (my copyediting and fact-checking geniuses, who—it should be noted—also helped compile everything I’d need to write the guide section, which was a Herculean task!), Karin Paprocki and Mike Rosamilia (who are the reason this book looks so beautiful), Jon Anderson, Valerie Garfield, Chelsea Morgan, Sara Berko, Adam Smith, Stacey Sakal, Lauren Hoffman, Caitlin Sweeny, Alissa Nigro, Anna Jarzab, Nicole Russo, Cassie Malmo, Michelle Leo, Mara Anastas, Chriscynethia Floyd, Jenn Rothkin, Ian Reilly, Christina Pecorale, Victor Iannone, and the entire sales team.
I also couldn’t do this job without the invaluable guidance from my agent, Laura Rennert (as well as everyone else at Andrea Brown Literary and Taryn Fagerness Agency).
And while all of my foreign publishers are seriously The Best, I have to give special thanks to Cécile Pournin and Mathilde Tamae-Bouhon—and everyone else at Lumen éditions—for taking such good care of me when I’ve visited you in France (and for always doing such fantastic work on my books).
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