“It’s going to be an exercise in patience,” Councillor Darek agreed, tearing a hand through his dark, curly hair.
“Hey, we’d be fine without Stina,” Biana pointed out. “She’s the one causing all the drama.”
“And Keefe’s a way more powerful Empath than she is,” Dex added. “So it’s a super-easy fix.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Grady said, “but… Keefe would be a better fit for this.”
Councillor Emery shook his head. “Mr. Sencen’s ties to the Neverseen pose too great of a risk.”
“Keefe’s on our side,” Sophie argued—even though this was exactly the kind of assignment she had to keep Keefe far away from. But that didn’t mean they needed to be stuck with Stina Heks in Team Whatever-They-Were-Going-to-Call-It—assuming she was willing to go along with this. “Shouldn’t we get to pick who we work with?”
“Absolutely not!” Councillor Bronte said, shaking his head so hard, the points of his Ancient ears flapped against his crown. “You chose your group for the Black Swan—and we’ve all seen how far from ideal things have gone for you. A change in strategy is essential for you to become truly successful.”
“And Stina Heks is your big solution?” Dex asked. “Like… for real?”
“I don’t appreciate the way you all keep singling out my daughter!” Vika snapped.
“Um, your daughter was the first to complain,” Biana reminded her. “She also called us losers, so…”
“Right, and you guys weren’t already looking at me like you’d rather work with a muskog,” Stina countered.
Dex flashed his most wicked grin. “A muskog would smell better.”
Grady coughed through another laugh—and Sandor’s shoulders shook like he was holding in a fit of goblin giggles.
“Enough!” Councillor Emery cut in, before Stina could respond, and Sophie was grateful for the outburst.
They couldn’t afford to waste the rest of the day cracking jokes and bickering—even if it was mildly entertaining.
“Miss Heks is a talented Empath who’s proven to be clearheaded under pressure,” Emery continued. “And since her father is already affiliated with the Black Swan—”
Vika sucked in a breath. “That information isn’t meant to be public knowledge.”
“Yes, well, we are not the public.” The diamonds in Emery’s crown seemed to shine brighter with the words. “And we’re working hard to remove the veils of secrecy separating ourselves from that order. Which is why we felt it would be best to draw from a family with an existing connection to the Black Swan, since that would make for a smoother process when we need to rely on the Collective for these projects. And we have no doubt that once the five of you learn to work together”—he turned back to Sophie, Biana, Dex, Wylie, and Stina, eyeing them each in turn—“Miss Heks will prove to be a valuable teammate.”
“She will,” Vika agreed. “But I don’t understand how this is such a big ‘change in strategy.’ You’re pulling almost everyone from the same failing group that Sophie already works with.”
“They haven’t failed,” Councillor Terik corrected, taking a slow step forward. His prosthetic leg still wobbled—and he still leaned heavily on his cane—but the movement did seem smoother than it did the last time Sophie had seen him. “And Miss Foster needs to trust her teammates—and trust takes time to build. Time we cannot afford to lose, given the severity of the challenges we’re facing. So yes, we did pull primarily from the core group of friends that we knew Miss Foster would be most comfortable with—but we specifically selected those whom she doesn’t rely on as closely. Those whom we believe have far more to give than what they’ve currently been allowed to offer.”
“Uh, I rely on Dex and Biana all the time,” Sophie argued, holding up her hand—and then realizing the panic-switch ring that Dex had designed for her was hidden under her glove. “The only reason I haven’t relied on Wylie as much is because he’s newer to working with the Black Swan.”
She glanced at her friends, expecting to find them nodding along. But they were all staring at their feet. “What?”
“Well… I mean… you do leave us out sometimes,” Biana mumbled. “Or you only include us if we force you to.”
“And it’s never like that for Keefe and Fitz,” Dex added.
“It totally is for Keefe,” Sophie argued. “He just doesn’t take no for an answer—you know how Keefe is. Plus, we’re fighting his mom. And Fitz and I are Cognates—”
“Yes, we’re all very aware of that connection,” Councillor Alina jumped in, tilting her head just so, to make the highlights in her dark hair gleam under the spotlight. “And sometimes it can be quite useful. So if it turns out that we need Mr. Vacker, we’ll add a sixth member to your team. But we also fear that you’ve come to rely on your telepathy as a crutch—and no one is saying the ability isn’t valuable,” she added, before anyone could protest, “or that we don’t want you using it. All we’re saying is that if it was the only ability that mattered, your order wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths to give you four others. Isn’t that right, Tiergan?” She flashed a gleaming smile when she noticed the frowns on Vika’s and Stina’s faces. “I’m guessing your husband never told you that Tiergan is a member of the Black Swan’s Collective?”
“Timkin doesn’t know,” Tiergan corrected. “And since you seem bent on outing those of us in the order today, I feel the need to add that just because the Neverseen have some extra knowledge about our members, that doesn’t mean we want you to share that information whenever and wherever you please.”
“Why do the Neverseen know…?” Biana started to ask—but then her eyes widened. “Did Tam tell them?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Sophie assured her. “Gethen probed his memories.”
She didn’t have to use her telepathy to see the news snowballing inside her friends’ minds.
“Does that mean you’ve talked to him?” Biana asked.
“And didn’t tell us?” Dex added.
“See?” Councillor Terik said when Sophie nodded. “This proves my point.”
“No it doesn’t,” Sophie argued. “I talked to Tam yesterday—and I would’ve told them about it by now if you guys hadn’t made me come here today.”
“And you haven’t told Fitz?” Biana clarified. “Or Keefe?”
There was something pointed about the way she said the second name—something that made Sophie a little nervous to admit, “I… actually talked to Keefe last night—but you’ll understand why once I explain what’s going on. As soon as we’re done here, I’ll—”
“Why wait?” Stina interrupted. “Sounds like pretty crucial information. And I’m part of the team now, so…”
“Technically not yet,” Sophie reminded her. “I haven’t agreed to be the leader.”
Stina rolled her eyes. “But we all know you’re going to. That’s what you do. You pout and stall for a while—but eventually you give in because you can’t help being the good little moonlark! So I should be there for the big explanation.”
“We all should,” Councillor Emery added. “Team Prodigious is meant to be a collaboration between the five of you and the twelve of us.”
“Dude, you have to stop calling it that,” Dex told him. “How about Team T. Rex?”
“Or Team Alicorn?” Biana added.
“If we go that route, why don’t we just call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix?” Sophie couldn’t resist suggesting—but of course no one appreciated her reference. “Never mind.”
“Human thing?” Dex guessed.
“A super-famous one,” she agreed, kinda wishing she had a few more shared life experiences with her friends.
At least Stina wasn’t still pushing for information.
They’d managed to sidestep that for the moment.
“What about Linh?” Wylie asked, and it took Sophie a second to realize he wasn’t suggesting that as a team name. “She should be a part of this. She’s way mor
e powerful than I am. Probably more powerful than all of us—except Sophie.”
“She is,” Emery agreed. “But the Neverseen have control of her brother, which makes her vulnerable at best and completely unreliable at worst. Not to mention the fact that we also selected each of you for your unique abilities, and hydrokinesis will serve us little use in the desert.”
“Desert?” Dex, Biana, and Wylie repeated.
Councillor Emery glanced at Sophie. “I assume you also have yet to tell them about Mr. Forkle’s suspicions regarding Loamnore?”
Sophie sighed when she saw the scowls on her friends’ faces. “I was going to cover everything at once.”
“Well then,” Emery said, “no time like the present.”
All eyes focused on Sophie, and she could tell that no one was going to let her drop this. So she gave them the bullet points of Mr. Forkle’s theory, even though it felt wrong discussing Black Swan stuff with so many extra people. And when Biana started to argue that Tam would never play a role in something like what Sophie was fearing, she went ahead and told them about the warning Tam had given her and the basic details of the deal she’d made with Ro to keep Keefe safe. The only stuff she left out was the matchmaking nightmare, because there was no way she was admitting that to Stina Heks—or letting Della and Biana hear it before Fitz.
Wylie turned away when she’d finished, his spotlight fading to a dull gray. “I should be the one to explain this to Linh.”
Sophie wasn’t about to argue. She didn’t know how to define Linh and Wylie’s friendship, but the two of them were very close. And since Linh lived with Wylie’s adoptive father, they spent a lot of time together.
“Do you want us to be there when you talk to her?” Biana offered.
Wylie shook his head. “It might be better one-on-one, so she won’t feel like she has to be brave. But I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
“Thank you,” Sophie told him.
His smile looked grim.
“Well,” Councillor Emery said, clapping his hands to call everyone’s attention back to him. “This is all the more reason for you five to get to work. The first assignment we’d planned to give you was to meet with King Enki in Loamnore, so he can show you his security concerns and catch you up on the projects we’ve already been assisting him with in recent months—a meeting the Black Swan would never be able to properly arrange, regardless of what they might claim. In case you still need proof that it’s both necessary and beneficial for you to begin your own investigation into the threat on the dwarves through our more official channel. And yes, Grady, you would be there for that meeting. But before we can move forward with scheduling that, we need Miss Foster to accept her role as leader. And if she does, we need all five of you to swear your oath as Regents.”
“And if I don’t accept?” Sophie had to know.
Emery rubbed his temples. “We would ask you to reconsider.”
“We realize you struggle with authority,” Councillor Terik added, before Sophie could push the issue. “Particularly our authority. And I, at least, won’t deny that you’re justified to feel that way. But… the dwarves need to be handled with care in order to avoid any interspeciesial incidents—ask your father to share his stories about some of his more interesting encounters with King Enki if you don’t believe me.”
“Okay, but… you guys remember this is Sophie, right?” Stina jumped in. “The girl who almost started a war with the ogres—twice. Or was it three times? And she formed an alliance with the trolls without getting anyone’s permission. I also doubt the goblins are thrilled that one of their best soldiers keeps almost dying while trying to protect her—especially since she’s supposed to be this all-powerful thing who can protect herself.”
“Protecting Miss Foster is my honor,” Sandor assured her.
“If you say so,” Stina told him. “All I’m saying is, if you want her on the team because she’s the moonlark—fine. I sorta get that. I still think she’s overrated, but… whatever. But what I don’t understand is why you’d make her our leader—especially since it sounds like King Enki’s going to be tough to deal with. Shouldn’t you go with someone who isn’t a walking interspeciesial disaster?”
“Sophie is far from a disaster,” Grady argued, placing a reassuring hand on Sophie’s shoulder.
“Yeah, the only disaster I see here is you,” Dex told Stina. “And let me guess. You think you’d be a better leader?”
Stina laughed. “You think I want that kind of responsibility? Uh, yeah, hard pass. Wylie’s the obvious choice. He’s older, with more training and experience, and—”
“Not necessarily,” Wylie interrupted. “Sophie may be younger, but she’s lived through more than all of us combined.”
“Since when is ‘not dying’ a qualification for leadership?” Stina countered.
“That’s not what I meant,” Wylie argued. “Though you should try braving a few attempts on your life before you discount the wisdom and strength gained from that kind of experience—”
“Ugh, if you’re going to be all grumpy, never mind,” Stina interrupted. “Forget I suggested it.”
“We will,” Councillor Emery told her. “And let me make this clear: Sophie must be the leader of Team Prodigious in order for it to exist. That is nonnegotiable—and why we tried to gauge her commitment before we started this conversation. The public will likely consider the formation of this team to be a rather odd decision on our part, given your ages and levels of experience. And Sophie is the key to winning them over. She’s gained a level of notoriety in our world—and lately, a bit of respect. It’s time we send the message that the Council sees her value and is utilizing her to the fullest extent possible.”
The words didn’t want to fit in Sophie’s brain—even though they matched things that Grady and Mr. Forkle had already told her.
After years of threats and Tribunals, did the Council actually… like her?
Or believe in her, at least?
And why did that feel like both a good thing and a bad thing?
“Okay, but what about the team name?” Dex asked. “You have to let us change it. Trust me, if you announce that you formed Team Prodigious, people are going to laugh.”
“They really will,” Biana agreed.
Councillor Emery’s sigh sounded like a muffled scream as it bounced around the room. “Fine. You may call yourselves whatever you’d like, on two conditions,” he told them, holding up a hand and counting off his fingers. “One: You must choose something respectable—something befitting the noble status the team will bear. And two: We must approve your selection.”
Dex’s dimples returned. “I can live with that.”
“Good. Does that mean we have a deal?” Emery’s gaze homed in on Sophie.
“Your choice, kiddo,” Grady whispered as he leaned in. “I’ll back you up, whatever you choose.”
She nodded, fighting the urge to tug on her eyelashes as she turned toward Dex, Biana, Wylie, and Stina. “If I’m the leader of this… group thing… I’m going to have to give you guys orders. Won’t that be weird?”
“Uh, I don’t know if you realize this,” Dex told her, “but… you already boss us around all the time.”
Biana grinned. “Exactly. Nothing new there!”
“As long as you let us have some input, we should be good,” Wylie added.
Stina bit her lip.
“You’d have to listen to me,” Sophie pressed, not letting her off the hook. “Even if you don’t like it.”
“Not if you’re wrong,” Stina countered.
“Actually, working as a team sometimes means going against your own judgment,” Councillor Emery told her. “You can voice your dissent—respectfully—but if you disagree with Sophie’s ultimate decision, you will still be expected to complete whatever orders she gives you.”
“Fine,” Stina said, tilting up her chin. “But if I turn out to be right, expect a lot of ‘I told you so’s.”
Sophie had zero doubt of that.
“We’re also going to have to spend a lot more time together,” Biana reminded Stina. “So… you’ll have to be nice to us.”
“And you’ll have to be nice to me,” Stina reminded her.
No one looked particularly happy about these revelations.
“We don’t expect you to become best friends,” Emery assured them. “But we do expect you to be respectful.”
Stina shrugged. “I guess I can live with that.”
“But… why?” Sophie had to ask. “You’ve never wanted to be involved with this kind of stuff before.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Dex cut in. “She wants the title.”
“Like you don’t!” Stina snapped back.
Dex didn’t deny it. And the intensity in his eyes made Sophie realize how much this opportunity had to mean to him.
He’d spent his whole life being bullied because his parents were a bad match and his siblings were triplets. In fact, that was probably why Della had to be the one to bring him to Eternalia with Biana, since neither of his parents had access to the Seat of Eminence.
So to go from that to being one of the youngest Regents ever?
Appointed to the nobility before even completing the elite levels?
To be Lord Dex.
Even Biana looked pretty dazzled by the title, and she’d grown up with the elitest of the elite.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting recognition for your talents,” Della told all of them. “But make sure you aren’t forgetting the serious responsibilities you’ll be taking on if you agree to this—and I don’t mean the danger. Most of you are getting frighteningly used to that. But for this, you’ll not only be swearing an oath to put the needs of our world, and its people, ahead of your own lives, but you’ll also be vowing to give complete allegiance to the Council. That’s not something to take lightly.”
“It isn’t,” Councillor Emery agreed. “But it’s also nothing to fear. We’re on the same side.”
“Are we?” Tiergan asked, beating Sophie to the question. “Truly?”
Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8) Page 13
