Elwin laughed. “Don’t worry, there’ll be lots more ooze tomorrow.”
“There will?” Sophie whined as Ro stalked forward, poking Elwin in the chest.
“You’d better wait until I’m here,” she told him.
“Yeah, what time should we arrive to catch the Great Fitzphie Ooze Fest?” Keefe asked.
“We’re not calling it that,” Sophie told him.
“Oh, I think we are. And don’t worry, Foster,” Keefe added, patting her on the head. “I’ll still love you when you’re oozy. Maybe I should get you a tunic that says Oozemaster.”
“Please don’t,” she begged.
He grinned, taking the tray of medicine from her lap and setting it aside. “You can have Fitzy feed you the rest of these when I’m gone—otherwise I’m going to puke. Right now, we need to find Krakie a new home.”
He grabbed a roll of wide gauze from one of the shelves and wrapped it carefully around her left wrist to form a loose-fitting cuff. Then carefully attached each of the pins.
“Is that a K ?” Fitz asked, tilting his head to study the new arrangement.
Keefe nodded. “Best letter in the whole alphabet! But don’t worry, Foster, this isn’t like when Dizznee gave you those bracelets.”
“What bracelets?” Fitz asked.
Keefe had the wisdom to look sheepish.
“They were . . . a prototype,” Sophie told Fitz. “Dex has been trying to design a gadget to help me control my enhancing, and he needed something to camouflage what they were, so he used some bracelets he’d bought.”
Fitz’s eyebrows shot up. “Cloth bracelets?”
She was pretty sure he already knew the answer. But even if he did, she’d promised Dex she wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened between them.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “They . . . didn’t work.”
“In more ways than one,” Keefe said under his breath—but Fitz still must’ve heard him.
His eyes narrowed. “How do you know so much about it?”
Keefe shrugged. “I’m the reigning president of the Foster Fan Club. It’s my job to know these things. But don’t worry, Fitzy, you’re still the runner-up.”
If he’d been standing any closer, Sophie would’ve smacked him. But he was just out of her reach.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be teasing Fitz,” Sophie reminded him instead.
“I’m not, but . . . he makes it so easy.”
Fitz rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I can’t remember why we’re friends.”
“Pretty sure everyone wonders that at some point,” Ro pointed out.
Keefe flashed the smuggest of smiles. “It’s because I make everything better.”
“Like giving Sophie the pendant that helped the Neverseen find her?” Fitz snapped back.
The question was like a record scratch, leaving the room agonizingly silent.
“Sorry,” Fitz mumbled, tearing a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t—”
“No, you’re right,” Keefe interrupted. “And no need for the cyclone of worry you’re hitting me with, Foster. I’m done freaking out. In fact, that’s why I’m here. Now that Fitz is awake, I thought we could move on from our skill lessons, because I’ve been thinking about what you said—about how the Neverseen think we’re predictable, and how they guess what we’re going to do ahead of time and use that against us. That’s what my mom’s been doing with me every time she mentions my legacy. She wants me afraid—that way I won’t ask my powerful telepathic friends to dig into my past and find whatever memories she erased. Then she can trigger them on her timeline. Maximum manipulation. And I’m over it.”
“So what are you saying?” Fitz asked.
“I’m saying . . . if you guys are up for it, I want the full Fitzphie experience! Dig around my head, stare into each other’s eyes—whatever you need to do to figure out what Mommy Dearest is hiding from me.”
“I’m in,” Fitz agreed immediately. “When do you want to start?”
“Hang on,” Sophie said, holding up her good hand like a stop sign and waiting for Keefe to look at her. “Let’s skip the whole ‘are you sure you can handle that’ conversation for a second because, uh . . . you realize Fitz and I have no idea how to trigger erased memories, right?”
“You guys can figure it out. I believe in the all-powerful Fitzphie! Actually, you know what? We should call this one Sophitz, since—let’s face it—Foster’s the real talent when it comes to this kind of thing.”
Fitz didn’t argue, but Sophie sighed. “Keefe—”
“Hear that, Ro?” he interrupted. “She’s giving me her serious voice.”
“And that pout she does, with the big eyes and the little crease between her eyebrows,” Ro noted. “She’s definitely figured out how to use her cuteness against you.”
Sophie scowled at both of them, wishing her echoes came with a “no teasing” requirement like Fitz’s. “No, I’m just trying to make sure you’ve thought this through.”
“Oh, are we already back to the ‘can you handle this’ conversation?” Keefe asked, stretching out on the empty cot on Sophie’s other side and propping his hands behind his head. “That was fast! And yes, Foster. I have thought this through. And I can handle it. I know my track record hasn’t been great when it comes to this stuff, but—”
“It’s been horrible,” Sophie corrected.
“Fair enough. But that’s because I wasn’t ready. Now I am.”
“Are you?”
“Uh—the Neverseen just tried to kill my best friend, and . . . you.” He rolled onto his side to face her. “Isn’t that why you’re so eager to start battle training?”
“Right, but—”
“This is my fight,” he interrupted again, standing up to pace with a twitchy sort of energy. “And the good news is, we can work on this while you guys are still recovering. Isn’t that what you wanted, Foster? To use that powerful telepathy as much as you can, in case the Neverseen were trying to stop you?”
She did want that—sort of. She mostly wanted another chance in Alvar’s head. But more important . . .
“That’s not what I meant,” she said, trying to figure out how to make him understand the minefield he wanted to charge full speed into. “You realize if we do this, we’re going to have to dig through all your memories, right? Remember what happened when I tried to help you in Alluveterre?”
Keefe stopped moving.
“What happened?” Fitz asked.
Sophie shrugged, leaving it up to Keefe to decide whether or not to answer.
He held her gaze for a long second, then spun to face Fitz. “She saw a bunch of stuff from my past that I hadn’t been planning to let her see, like the time my parents left me in Atlantis all day because they forgot about me. And the day my dad destroyed one of my sketchbooks to punish me for doodling during my sessions. And the night I wet the bed when I was way too old to be doing something like that. What?” he asked Sophie. “You thought I wouldn’t tell him?”
“I wasn’t sure,” she admitted.
He glanced back at Fitz, who didn’t seem to know where to look anymore.
“You’re going to see some dark stuff in my past,” Keefe warned him. “Both of you are. But . . . it doesn’t have to be an issue—as long as you guys agree to one thing: no feeling sorry for me.”
“I won’t,” Fitz promised.
“I don’t,” Sophie added.
Keefe nodded. “Does that mean I passed your little test?”
“It wasn’t a test. I just wanted to make sure you’re really thinking about what it will be like if we do this.”
“I am. I know it’s going to be rough. But . . . I can deal.”
She studied his face, searching for any trace of the scared, broken boy hidden underneath. But all she found was steely determination.
“I can handle it,” he promised.
Sophie glanced at Fitz. “What about you? I’m pretty sure some of the stuff we fin
d will make us angry.”
Or Keefe would get defensive and take his teasing too far—but bringing that up would only increase the chance of it happening.
“If I made it through that fun little chat with my parents,” Fitz told her, “I’m sure I can make it through this. What about you—will it give you nightmares, or will Silveny take care of that?”
“Aw, is Glitter Butt helping you sleep again, Foster?” Keefe jumped in.
“We tested it out last night,” Sophie confirmed. “And it was way better than sedatives.”
“So that’s why the Fitzster played creepy dream stalker. I guess that’s fair. How’s she doing? Still telling everyone I’m her favorite?”
“Still being weirdly stubborn,” Sophie corrected. “I’m worried she’s hiding something. But I’m hoping I can wear her down.”
Keefe laughed. “Sounds like what I’m always saying about you.”
“Oh—that was a good one!” Ro said, raising her hand for a high five.
“It was,” Sophie had to admit.
“So . . . does that mean Operation: Privacy Invasion is a go?” Keefe asked when the conversation dissolved into silence.
“I don’t know—you’re still assuming Fitz and I will be able to figure out how to trigger the memories.”
“True. But, I mean . . . it’s you guys. I know I make a lot of Fitzphie jokes—but that doesn’t mean I don’t get the hype. I was there when you snuck past Forkle’s blocking. Shoot—I watched you guys slip into Dimitar’s head and find out all that stuff about the cure for the plague.”
“I still can’t believe you were able to breach my father’s mind,” Ro muttered. “Or that he let you live.”
“He didn’t let us live,” Fitz argued. “We—”
He stopped himself, like he’d realized it probably wasn’t the best idea to remind Ro about their dramatic escape, given the death and destruction they’d left in their wake. There’d been bigger, darker forces at play that day—and Ro seemed to understand that. But it was still the kind of subject that needed to be handled delicately.
“I’ll let that go,” Ro told him, “if you tell me what it was like in my father’s head.”
Fitz let out a relieved breath. “Fluffy.”
“Like sinking into a giant marshmallow covered in feathers,” Sophie agreed.
Ro choked on her laugh. “Okay, I need to figure out how to blackmail him with that.”
“Maybe you can get him to reassign Bo,” Sophie suggested.
“Yeah, that’s never going to happen. Once my father gets an idea in his head, he can’t let it go.”
“What kind of idea?” Keefe asked. “The kind that involves smooching and weddings and little baby prince and princess BoRos?”
“Dude, she is seriously going to stab you,” Fitz warned.
“No, I’m thinking I’ll tunnel us deep underground and leave him in a dark little hole for a few days,” Ro corrected. “Just him and some of my favorite bacteria.”
“Sounds like the perfect place to add more verses to The Ballad of Bo and Ro,” Keefe noted.
“He really doesn’t know when to quit, does he?” Ro asked Sophie.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a disease,” Fitz told her.
“Coping mechanism,” Keefe argued. “Which you’d already know if you’d agree to Operation: Privacy Invasion.”
“I already said I’m in,” Fitz reminded him.
All eyes turned to Sophie—and she could think of a hundred ways this could go very, very wrong.
But Keefe’s eyes held the same plea that Fitz’s had when he’d begged her to let him monitor her dreams—the same desperation hers surely showed when she’d asked Keefe to give her skill lessons.
“I guess we can try.”
“WOO-HOO!” Keefe clapped his hands together, rubbing his palms back and forth. “So how do you want to do this? Should I sit between you guys, so it’s like a Sophitz sandwich? Or will that make it too hard for all the staring into each other’s eyes?”
“You want to start now?” Sophie asked.
“Why not? You’re awake. The Fitzster’s awake. I’m ready for a huge pile of humiliation. What more do we need?”
“Uh, a plan?”
“Eh. You guys are best when you make it up as you go along.”
“We kind of are,” Fitz agreed.
“See? This is why you’re my best friend! Let’s do this!”
“Not today,” Magnate Leto informed them as he marched into the Healing Center.
Keefe heaved a huge sigh. “Do adults have some sort of sixth sense that tells them when they should show up and stop us from doing something that’s actually productive?”
“No, but we do know when reckless decisions are being made—and I’m not saying that what I just overheard isn’t a potentially valuable course of action,” Magnate Leto told him. “But triggering memories is not a process that should be taken lightly—and it’s definitely not a process that two relatively untrained Telepaths who are still battling the unknown effects of shadowflux echoes should embark upon without consulting a Mentor. I’m going to insist that you speak with Sir Tiergan before you attempt this—and since I’m well aware of how limited your patience is, I’ll make sure he pays the Healing Center a visit tomorrow.”
And I’d like to weigh in as well, he transmitted to Sophie. But we can discuss that later.
Out loud, he added, “In the meantime, I need you to return to your session, Mr. Sencen. I realize elvin history isn’t your favorite subject, but it’s crucial that you attend, both for a better understanding of our world, and to prove you’re committed to your education.”
Keefe snorted. “We all know that’s not true.”
Magnate Leto ignored him. “I’ve spoken to Lady Sanja, and she’ll have an exam ready for you when you arrive, covering the lectures you’ve missed recently.”
“Please, like I need to be tested.” Keefe tapped the side of his head. “I skimmed through the reading material on the first day. Photographic memories are so handy that way.”
“I’m glad to hear it. But it won’t help you with the notes I expect you to take during the lecture Lady Sanja will give once you’ve completed the exam. I’ll be checking them in this afternoon’s study hall.”
“Aw, come on, Leto,” Ro whined. “I can’t take another speech on how the world would be lost if you guys hadn’t started bossing everyone around. I swear, for such a scrawny species, your egos are out of control!”
“Nonetheless,” Magnate Leto said, reaching up to rub his temples, “elvin history is an important segment of Mr. Sencen’s education. And his recent lack of attendance has drawn the notice of his father, who hailed me today to discuss his son’s absence records.”
“You’re going to let him bully you?” Keefe asked.
“I’d rather him bully me than bully you,” Magnate Leto said gently.
“I can handle him—”
“I’m sure you can. But I’d prefer you didn’t have to. Especially since—in this instance—he’s not completely wrong. I realize that traditional learning is not your favorite pastime. But being a Foxfire prodigy is not only an honor—it’s an advantage. One that not everyone receives. Even fewer are accepted to the elite levels, which you’ll be tested for at the end of the year.”
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that’s what this is really about. Father of the Year is worried I’m going to embarrass him by not being accepted, so now he’s got you hassling me—”
“Quite the contrary. My involvement stems entirely from my desire to see you succeed. You would be a valuable asset to the nobility if you could learn to exercise a modicum of discipline—”
“Not exactly the best sales pitch,” Keefe interrupted.
“Perhaps not. But deny it all you want—we both know you care about our world’s future. Why else would you spend so much time helping Miss Foster’s causes?”
“Uh . . . you’ve seen how cute she is, right?” Keefe asked.
> Sophie flung a pillow at his head.
Or, she tried to.
Throwing with her left arm was much harder than she’d expected, and . . .
She ended up nailing Magnate Leto in the face.
Keefe doubled over, clutching his sides and gasping between choking laughs: “THAT . . . WAS . . . THE . . . GREATEST . . . THING . . . I’VE . . . EVER . . . SEEN!”
“IT WAS!” Ro agreed, nearly collapsing to the floor in a fit of giggles.
Fitz and Elwin were cracking up too—though they at least tried to cover it with coughs.
Sophie slunk down under her covers. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right, Miss Foster,” Magnate Leto said, handing her back her pillow. “It’s good to see you regaining some strength.”
Keefe wiped the tears streaming down his cheeks. “You realize I’m going to call you Principal Pillowhead from now on, right?”
Magnate Leto’s smile was equal parts rueful and patient. “I’m sure you will. But getting back to our important conversation. I want to make sure you’re keeping in mind that Level Six is a turning point year. I’d hate to see you damage your future because of the Neverseen.”
“Is Fitz damaging his future by being here?” Keefe countered. “Or Foster?”
“They have no choice. They’ll also have an extensive amount of makeup work to tackle during the midterm break—and no, that option is not available to you, so don’t ask and don’t test my patience. I can become very creative with my punishments if you force me to.”
“See, but now you’ve got me curious,” Keefe told him.
“Uh-uh,” Ro jumped in. “I have to suffer through this stuff with you.”
“You do,” Magnate Leto agreed. “And I found an entire room filled with recordings of speeches from the Ancient Councillors that I think you’ll find particularly enjoyable.”
Ro grabbed Keefe’s arm and hauled him toward the door. “We’re going to your session, and you’re acing that test and taking lots of notes or I will hang a banner in the middle of this campus—and we both know what I will have that banner say!”
“Bo and Ro 4 Eva?” Keefe guessed, because he clearly had a death wish.
“That’s it!” Ro picked him up, hefting him over her shoulder and trudging toward the door. “We’ll be back after study hall.”
Flashback Page 23