Sophie tried not to shudder.
She tried even harder not to wonder what it had to feel like to believe you’d willingly killed your traitorous older brother—and then find out later that he managed to get away. It had to be such a strange mix of anger and guilt and frustration and pain.
And instead of being there for Fitz, she’d ignored him and avoided him.
Because of stupid matchmaking.
If she really was his girlfriend, that probably made her the Worst. Girlfriend. Ever.
“Whoa. The mood is getting low in here,” Keefe said. And when his eyes met Sophie’s, it looked like he wanted to ask her what was wrong. Instead, he turned to Fitz and added, “All the more reason we need to make Team We’re-Having-More-Fun-Than-You-Are! a thing. Come on, Fitzy—I’m sure Linh would be okay with you as our fearless leader. Then you can order everyone around and I can call you Lord Bossypants. It’s a win-win!”
“You know what I don’t get?” Fitz asked, turning back to Sophie—and even though he was ignoring Keefe, she noticed the corners of his mouth were twitching, like he might’ve been trying not to smile. “Everyone knows how rare Cognates are—and you and I are some of the most powerful Cognates ever. So why would the Council think splitting us up is going to be a good thing?”
Sophie shrugged. “They said they think it’ll help me focus on my other abilities, since I don’t use them very often and the Black Swan gave them to me for a reason. But honestly? I think they’re just randomly changing things up, trying to push us all out of our comfort zones to see if it makes a difference.”
“Yeah—it’ll make it worse,” Fitz muttered.
“Probably,” she agreed. “That’s why I already made them promise to add you to the team if I need you.”
“If you need me?” he repeated.
Sophie couldn’t tell if he was teasing or moping. Maybe a little of both.
And after all the ways she’d neglected him, she… owed Fitz a little reassurance. Even if Ro would forever torment her for it.
So she leaned a little closer, telling herself to be brave as she reached up and smoothed the crinkle between his eyebrows with the tip of her finger.
Pretty sure I’ll always need you, she transmitted.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand they’ve gone into full Fitzphie eye-staring mode—so that’s our cue!” Keefe announced, fumbling for his home crystal.
He hooked his arm around Ro’s, but she locked her knees. “Nope, I have one more question for Pretty Boy, first.”
Sophie and Keefe groaned.
Fitz crossed his arms and tilted his chin up. “Okay, hit me with it.”
Ro flashed all of her pointed teeth. “If Sophie can’t find out who her genetic parents are, does that change anything for you?”
He frowned. “Why wouldn’t she be able to?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ro told him. “Just answer the question.”
“But… the question makes no sense!” Fitz argued. “It’s not like the information doesn’t exist. If we needed to, we could pull it right out of Forkle’s brain.” He glanced at Sophie. “Wait—should we just do that?”
“It’s plan Z,” Keefe told him.
“Huh. Any reason why it’s not plan A?” he asked.
“Because… it’s icky,” Sophie mumbled, “and I don’t want to be that kind of person unless I have no other choice. Especially for something like this.”
“ ‘Something like this,’ ” Fitz repeated slowly.
Sophie sighed, trying to figure out how to explain without making everything worse. “It’s just… I already thought matchmaking was unfair to certain people. And now I’ve turned out to be one of those people. And that seems like proof that I was right and the system’s seriously broken—not something I should use as an excuse to violate someone’s privacy.”
All Fitz had to say to that was, “Hmm.”
Ro elbowed Keefe. “Nothing you want to say, Hunkyhair?”
“Yep! Time to go!” He held his crystal up to the fading twilight, and Sophie wondered when it had gotten so dark outside—and how she hadn’t noticed.
Ro shook her head. “Fine. Be that way. But you still didn’t answer my question,” she reminded Fitz.
“Because it was a dumb question,” he argued.
“I figured you were going to say that,” Ro told him. “So I have a new question for you. And be careful. In fact, don’t answer until you’ve put some serious thought into it. There’s no wrong answer—but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one that’s right.”
Keefe sighed. “You have ten seconds until I tackle you.”
“Try it,” Ro told him, keeping her focus on Fitz. “Ready for your question?”
“I’m definitely not scared,” he countered.
“We’ll see.” She batted her eyelashes—but her smile was anything but sweet as she asked, “If Sophie decided she didn’t want to find out who her biological parents are—and didn’t want anyone else to look into it either—what would you say?”
Fitz frowned. “Why would she do that?”
Ro clicked her tongue. “I told you not to answer.”
“I didn’t.”
“If you say so.” She glanced at Keefe. “And since you’re still not going to say anything, I guess that’s the best I can do. For now.”
“What does that mean?” Fitz asked, but Ro had already dragged Keefe into the light. They were gone the next second, nothing but a shower of glitter—though Sophie could’ve sworn Keefe mouthed the word Sorry as he left.
Fitz blew out a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well… that was weird.”
Sophie nodded, trying to figure out how to fill the silence now that they were alone—or as alone as they could be next to a hallway filled with eavesdropping bodyguards.
But her brain couldn’t come up with anything useful.
She missed how much easier things used to be between them.
Comfortable.
Friendly.
This dating thing was so much more complicated than she’d realized—if they even were dating.
And it got a whole lot worse when Fitz asked, “So… would you?”
“Would I what?”
“You know… do what Ro was asking. Decide you don’t want anyone to find out who your biological parents are.”
“Oh.”
She dropped her gaze to her hands, knowing this was another one of those questions where there was definitely a right answer.
But she couldn’t make herself say those words.
So she gave Fitz the same answer he’d given Ro. “Why would I do that?”
And Fitz looked relieved. “Exactly.”
THIRTEEN
I THINK I’M GOING TO CALL you the Droolmonster from now on,” Stina announced, and Sophie’s head snapped up so fast, she slammed the back of it against the braided bark of Calla’s Panakes tree.
She reached for her chin, sighing when she discovered that it was a little slobbery.
And the smirks on Dex’s, Wylie’s, Biana’s, and Stina’s faces made her wonder if she’d also been snoring.
She wiped the drool away with the side of her sleeve and scowled at Bo, Sandor, and Flori, who were patrolling the nearby pastures along with Lovise and Woltzer. Clearly her bodyguards had no interest in protecting her from humiliation.
The last thing she remembered was petting Wynn and Luna in the shade, waiting for the rest of her team to arrive for their first planning session. But the alicorn twins seemed to have abandoned her. And if the crick in her neck was any indication, she’d been conked out for a while.
“Couldn’t sleep last night?” Biana asked as Sophie rubbed the back of her head, finding the tender spot where she’d bonked it on the tree.
“Not really,” Sophie admitted.
No matter what images Silveny had tried sending—soaring through starry skies, galloping across pristine beaches, grazing in quiet meadows—Bronte always crept into the dream, lecturing her or sco
wling at her or threatening to exile her. And when he’d held out his arms and asked, “Who needs a hug?” she’d decided she was never sleeping again.
But then she’d gone outside to brainstorm for the first meeting of Team Valiant, and Wynn and Luna had been all snuggly, and the air had been filled with a soft, whispering breeze that felt like Calla was singing to her through the swaying leaves, and the day was warm and quiet, and the grass was soft and squishy, and… now she would probably forever be the Droolmonster.
But there were worse nicknames.
And thankfully, she didn’t remember dreaming at all—score one for Panakes-napping!
Maybe she’d start camping out there at night. At least until she got an answer to the Bronte conundrum. Which… might take a while, if she kept being such a wimp.
She’d planned to hail Bronte that morning to schedule the meeting with her and Keefe. But the thought of hearing his voice and seeing his face on that tiny screen—and then asking him the dreaded, potentially life-changing question, and having to face whatever new reality came with his answer…
“You okay?” Biana asked, plopping down beside Sophie on the grass and reaching out to brush some of the fallen pinkish, purplish, bluish petals out of Sophie’s hair. “Fitz wouldn’t tell me what you guys talked about last night. But he said it got a little… intense.”
“Uh, I think I speak for all of us when I say, ew,” Dex complained as he sat down next to Biana.
Biana shoved him. “That’s not what he meant. And gross—he’s my brother! He knows not to tell me that kind of stuff.”
“Um, there’s nothing to tell!” Sophie emphasized.
“Okay, but why not?” Stina asked, joining them on the grass. “We’re talking about kissing Fitz Vacker, aren’t we? Fitz! Vacker!” She curled her arms around her knees and stared dreamily at the swaying branches. “How are you not—”
“All right, just so we’re all clear,” Biana interrupted, holding out her hands like stop signs. “I’m good with Sophie dating my brother. It’s a little weird, but… whatever. But that doesn’t mean I want to hear about it.”
“YUP!” Dex agreed.
“And I really don’t want to talk about it,” Sophie added. “So how about we all just pretend it’s not happening?”
“But it is happening, right?” Stina pressed, tossing a handful of flowers at Sophie like confetti. “You’re done with all the pointless denial?”
Sophie honestly wasn’t sure if she knew the right answer to that question.
And all of her friends were watching her now, waiting to hear what she had to say—though Wylie looked like he was mostly wondering how much of this kind of drama he was going to have to deal with as a member of Team Valiant, and when he sat, he positioned himself a couple of extra inches away from them.
Sophie knew she could change the subject—demand they focus on the reasons they’d met up in the first place. But… Dex and Biana still didn’t know about her unmatchable status. And Stina and Wylie should probably be in the loop too, thanks to the potential Bronte ramifications.
“Fine,” she said, tugging out an itchy eyelash and making a mental note that the next time she had huge, life-changing news, she needed to gather everyone together and tell them all at the same time so she didn’t have to keep reliving the same stressful conversation. “There’s something I should probably tell you guys, and I really don’t want it to be another big, drawn-out thing. So I’m going to say it really fast, and then you guys each get to ask one question, and then we’re done talking about it. Deal?”
Stina’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. The Droolmonster’s bossy today.”
“That’s because she’s Lady Fos-Boss,” Dex said, flashing a smug, dimpled grin.
“And we’ll take the deal,” Biana decided for all of them.
Which meant it was time for Sophie to explain the whole messy situation again—though she was pretty proud of herself for condensing it down to one long run-on sentence. She blurted it out as fast as she could, then leaned back against Calla’s tree and focused on arranging some of the Panakes blossoms into a tidy circle.
She didn’t want to see how much pity was now being directed her way.
“All right,” she said, clearing the squeak out of her throat, “one question each. Who wants to go first?”
“I will.” Dex leaned closer, and Sophie braced herself for something especially awkward. But all he asked was, “Are you okay?”
When she looked up, she found his eyes shining with the kind of deep, honest worry that could only be found in the stare of someone who’d “been there.”
That’s when she realized…
Even knowing firsthand how much scandal and scorn came with defying the matchmaking system, Dex still talked about how he might choose to not register, as a protest. So… rough as the drama would be—it also had to be manageable.
And he must also believe he’d find someone who wouldn’t care whether or not his name was on their lists, or how the rest of their world would label their relationship.
She needed to remember all of that, in case the search for her biological parents spiraled into disaster.
“It hasn’t been fun,” she told him—but she actually felt like she meant it when she added, “but I’ll get through it.”
“If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” he promised.
“Thanks.”
He started to lean back, but Sophie reached out and pulled him in for a hug.
Dex lost his balance for a second. Then he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing as tight as he could. And when he let go a few seconds later, his cheeks weren’t red, and he didn’t look shy or nervous or fidgety.
He looked… like her best friend.
“Okay, my turn,” Stina announced, reminding Sophie that she still had three more questions to go. “And I won’t be getting all sappy.”
“Shocking,” Sophie deadpanned, leaning back against the Panakes again.
“You really think Bronte’s your biological father?” Stina asked, crinkling her nose like she couldn’t picture it—which might’ve been the best compliment she’d ever given Sophie.
Sophie added a few more blossoms to her flower circle. “I think there’s a strong enough possibility that I need to look into it—and not just because of the matchmaking stuff.” She glanced at Wylie, wondering how much more she should say. It seemed wrong to raise the horrible possibility when she could be on the complete wrong track.
But… if it was true, he could probably use some time to mentally prepare.
“The thing is,” she said carefully, still holding Wylie’s stare, “if Bronte was part of Project Moonlark, it makes what happened to your dad a whole lot creepier.”
Wylie straightened—and his voice was about fifty degrees colder when he said, “I want to know the second you find out anything.”
“You’ll be the first person I hail,” Sophie promised.
“Before you hail Mr. Forkle,” Wylie clarified. “If this is true, I want to be there when you confront him—make him look me in the eyes while he explains what happened.”
Sophie nodded. And when she saw how tightly his skin was stretched across his fisted knuckles, she added, “Remember: I’ve had wrong theories before.”
Wylie frowned. “Like who?”
Sophie hesitated, so he added, “That’s my one question.”
“Welllllllll,” Sophie said, shifting her weight as she tried to figure out how honest she should be. “I’m not sure if it’s weird to tell you this, but my first theory was actually your dad—because everyone kept mentioning his name and getting strange looks and not telling me why. But that was before I knew how Project Moonlark was connected to what happened to him. And it was before I met you…”
“And saw how much we look alike?” Wylie finished for her, grinning as he pointed to his dark skin.
Sophie laughed and nodded. “So after I ruled him out, I thought it might be Mr. Forkle, since he’s a Telepath
and he was the one who rescued me from the kidnappers and healed my abilities and stayed in the human world to keep an eye on me. But… he says it’s not him.”
“He could be lying,” Stina noted.
“Oh, I know. But… the longer I’m around him, the more it doesn’t feel like he’s the one—especially when you consider the whole ‘secret twin’ thing. The Forkle brothers were the only people who could do most of the stuff they did for me, which makes those good deeds seem way less significant and more like… they were just doing their job, you know?” Sophie shrugged. “I also wondered if it was Councillor Kenric, since he was always so nice to me and he was a Telepath and he gave me his cache. But Forkle said he’s not—and with Kenric being dead… I don’t really see why he’d bother lying.”
And now that she’d fully realized what it would mean if one of the Councillors had been a part of Project Moonlark, she really hoped Kenric was not her biological father. The thought of him letting Prentice get hurt to keep his secret safe made her insides churn.
Plus, it would devastate Oralie.
Then again, she supposed all of that could be a reason for Mr. Forkle to lie to her about Kenric. Maybe she shouldn’t rule him out as her biological father after all.…
“What about your biological mother?” Stina asked, and Sophie pulled her legs into her chest, needing to be in another Sophie-ball.
“You already had your turn,” Biana reminded her.
“Yeah, but Wylie asked her about ‘other theories’—that covers both parents,” Stina argued. “Besides, I’m sure this little search is going to keep popping up in all kinds of messy ways, so we should be prepared.”
Sophie went back to arranging fallen flowers, definitely not loving when Stina made good points. “I’ve only had one theory for my genetic mom,” she said through a sigh, “and you can’t repeat it to anybody. I don’t want it getting back to Grady and Edaline.”
Stina’s eyebrows practically launched off her forehead. “You think it was Jolie?”
Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8) Page 22
