“You think that’s bad, try the Digestives,” Keefe told him.
“Yeah, uh, pass.” Fitz finished his Custard Cream anyway—and reached for another, Sophie noticed—as he told Keefe, “I know learning anything useful from your dad is a long shot. But I’m not making any progress on my own, so…”
“I get that,” Keefe promised. “I do. But what I don’t get is thing three.” He counted it off on his fingers as he asked, “Why didn’t you just tell me this had to do with Alvar from the start? Did you really think I wouldn’t understand?”
“Honestly?” Fitz stuffed the rest of his second cookie into his mouth, spritzing crumbs when he said, “I don’t know.”
Keefe nodded slowly, grabbing another Custard Cream and prying the two halves of the sandwich apart. “Life’s… getting complicated, huh?”
“It is,” Fitz agreed, examining a Jammie Dodger like it held the secrets of the universe.
“I swear, watching boys try to communicate is like watching amoebas,” Ro told Sophie during the long silence that followed. “You just stare at their blobby little bodies and think, ‘How do these things even function?’ ”
“Hey, who you calling blobby?” Keefe complained, pulling back his tunic sleeves and flexing his arm muscles, which were pretty impressive—not that Sophie would ever tell him that.
Ro snorted. “You elves are so adorably puny.”
“Aren’t they?” Grizel asked. “I swear, I have swords that weigh more than some of them.”
“Um, excuse me, I complete your training regimen every day,” Fitz reminded her, “even with my healing leg.”
“You do,” Grizel agreed, before turning toward Ro and stage-whispering, “Do you think I should tell him that it’s the same workout we have our toddlers start with in Gildingham?”
Fitz scowled.
Keefe smirked. “I think the moral of this conversation is, females are cruel.”
“They can be,” Fitz said quietly.
He didn’t look at Sophie as he said it—but the not-looking almost made it worse.
And Sophie was fairly certain that another apology wasn’t going to get her out of this new mess she’d created, but she still had to transmit a quick I’m really sorry.
I know, Fitz transmitted back. We’ll… talk later.
Sure, she thought, regretting every biscuit she’d eaten.
All the sugar and carbs churned in the pit of her stomach as Fitz cleared his throat and told Keefe, “I guess I shouldn’t keep your father waiting.”
“You shouldn’t—and don’t go easy on him in there,” Keefe warned. “You’ll never find anything my mom hid if you let him push you around.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I have big plans to make this as miserable as possible for him,” Fitz assured him.
Keefe grinned. “That’s what I like to hear! If you need pointers for maximum annoyance, you know where to find me.”
“I do,” Fitz agreed.
“Wow, did they just fist-bump?” Ro asked.
“You bet we did!” Keefe told her. “That’s what besties do, right, Fitzy?”
Fitz’s nod couldn’t necessarily be described as “enthusiastic.”
But he still made the gesture.
Even gave Keefe half a smile as Fitz turned to head down the hall.
“Ugh, the one time I’d been counting on you to annoy Fitz into storming off so I wouldn’t have to stand guard duty around your father,” Grizel grumbled to Keefe, “you have to go and be all mature.”
“What can I say? I like to keep people on their toes. Biscuit to ease the pain?” Keefe held out the pack of Jammie Dodgers.
Grizel snatched the cookies and stomped off after Fitz.
“Oh, but Fitzy?” Keefe shouted as Fitz reached the bend in the hall. “I want to know all the memories you see, okay? Not because… whatever. It’s just possible there’s something in his head that’ll knock something loose in mine, you know?”
Fitz gave him a thumbs-up.
“Boys,” Ro told Sophie. “They really are high-functioning amoebas.”
“It’s a good thing we’re cute, right?” Keefe countered.
When Ro didn’t agree, Keefe launched into a long pondering on whether Ro considered Bo to be a “hunky ogre,” and Sophie decided to flee before the bacteria started flying.
But she couldn’t leave without making sure Keefe was okay.
He assured her he would be—and the third time he said it, he almost sounded convincing.
He also promised he’d try to come up with a subtler plan for investigating the names on his list of possible biological parents. But Sophie wasn’t holding out much hope on that front.
“Subtle” wasn’t really a word that fit with “Keefe Sencen.”
“Thanks again for the biscuits,” he said as she dug out her home crystal. “And don’t think I’m going to forget about the E.L. Fudges you owe me.”
Sophie had no doubt she’d be hearing about them endlessly.
“I’ll find a way to get you some,” she promised, ignoring Sandor’s protests—though those weren’t as spirited as they normally were.
She wondered if that meant Sandor had already resigned himself to the fact that elf-shaped cookies were going to have to happen.
And Sophie was about to leap away when she realized she had one more thing she wanted to tell him. “Thanks for listening, Keefe. It… really helped.”
Keefe’s smile was slower than usual—but it lit up his whole face. “Anytime, Foster. And I meant what I said. You’re not doing anything wrong. But if you change your mind and go ahead with the reset? I’ll be right there to make sure you get through safe.”
Sophie nodded. And she’d just pulled Sandor into the light when Keefe called after her, “Oh, and don’t worry about the Fitzster. I’ll talk to him.”
Lots of ogre curses filled the air as the rushing warmth swept Sophie away.
* * *
Back at Havenfield, Sophie lasted about ten minutes in her bedroom before the walls closed in. And she had to give Grady and Edaline credit. When they saw her stumbling down the stairs with her comforter, pillows, and Ella, all they’d said was, “What else do you need?”
Even Sandor and Bo didn’t argue with Sophie’s plan. They just set to work rearranging the nightly patrols to better cover Calla’s Panakes tree. And thanks to Edaline’s conjuring, it only took a couple of minutes to get a hefty mound of pillows and blankets neatly arranged under the swaying branches.
Wynn and Luna seemed to think the campout was the greatest idea that Sophie had ever had, and were snuggled up in her makeshift bed even before Sophie had added the final pillows.
Iggy didn’t mind it either. He was snoring like a garbage truck within about thirty seconds of Grady setting his cage next to Calla’s trunk.
“So… is this going to be a regular thing?” Edaline asked as she and Grady helped Sophie crawl past the tangle of alicorn legs to get under her covers.
“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted. “I just… couldn’t breathe inside tonight.”
“I know the feeling,” Edaline told her, kissing Sophie on her forehead.
“And I’m not trying to be nosy, kiddo,” Grady added. “But… I have to ask if this has anything to do with your meeting with King Enki.”
“I have a meeting with King Enki?” Sophie asked.
Grady nodded. “The Council’s taking you, me, and your team to Loamnore in two days—and since you clearly didn’t know that, I guess that answers my question.”
“Yeah,” Sophie said, feeling a whole new set of worries stack up inside her brain. “Wow. I’m… getting really bad at this.”
“Bad at what?” Edaline asked, lowering herself to the grass and petting Luna’s sparkly rump.
“Juggling,” Sophie admitted. “I used to be so much better at keeping track of all the things I needed to focus on. But now…”
She’d barely thought about the dwarves.
Or Team Valiant.
<
br /> Or Tam.
The last one hit the hardest.
Especially when she considered how much time she’d spent focusing on herself—fighting about healing her abilities. Stressing about boy stuff, and matchmaking stuff, and her biological parents.
“Why is it so hard to remember what really matters?” she asked quietly, staring up at the stars.
“Because it all matters,” Edaline told her, reaching for Sophie’s hand. “And for the record, I think you do a pretty amazing job of juggling everything.”
“Thanks,” Sophie mumbled.
But she still needed to do better.
And she would.
Her mind put together a long to-do list as Grady and Edaline finished tucking her in. And she buried all the silly, selfish stuff down at the bottom.
She put Team Valiant at the top, since she’d never checked in with Wylie and Stina about their meeting with Lady Zillah. And even though she was dreading it, she needed to check in with Bronte and Oralie—find out when the Council would be announcing their Regent appointments.
Priorities, she told herself. It’s all about priorities.
She repeated that over and over—along with a vow to not let herself get sidetracked again—as she closed her eyes. And as she slept, it felt like Calla’s tree was cheering her on.
Singing about the perfect balance of the forest.
How every tree has its place.
And Sophie woke with the sunrise, ready to start fresh in the new day.
TWENTY
FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND!
No—that’s absolutely NOT your friend! Sophie transmitted for what had to be the twentieth time.
And once again, Wynn immediately countered with another burst of FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND!
Sophie reached up to rub her temples.
Bits of torn grass showered her lap, and she didn’t want to know how much more was tangled in her hair. Probably half a pasture’s worth, thanks to all the rolling around she’d done while tackling two baby alicorns and dragging them away from the gorgodon’s enclosure.
Sandor had offered to help, but she’d wanted to handle this on her own. After everything she’d been through with Silveny and Greyfell, Wynn and Luna kinda felt—in a weird way—like a new obnoxious baby brother and sister.
Sophie wanted to prove that she could take care of them.
She just wished they’d cooperate a little.
FOR THE LAST TIME, she said, trying not to think about how sore she was going to be the next day, or how muddy her clothes were, THE GORGODON IS NOT YOUR FRIEND!
Wynn looked at his twin sister—some secret thought passing between them—before they both filled Sophie’s head with a fresh chorus of FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND! FRIEND!
Sophie groaned, wondering if her brain could actually explode from the sheer volume of their transmissions.
Or maybe from her own frustration.
She’d thought dealing with Silveny was exhausting, thanks to the mama alicorn’s demanding side, and her tendency to transmit almost everything in blocks of three. But that was nothing compared to the intensity of simultaneous mental shouting from two baby alicorn troublemakers.
And they showed no sign of stopping, or any remorse for how badly they’d frightened her.
In fact, they seemed to be building steam, their chants growing faster—louder. More high-pitched.
ENOUGH! Sophie snapped after the thirty-first FRIEND! crashed into her head.
She jumped to her feet, looming over the sparkly winged horses and giving them each her sternest glare.
She’d tried reasoning.
Tried begging.
All she had left was threatening.
If you won’t promise to stay away from the gorgodon, she warned, then I’m going to tell your parents where I found you guys today and let them decide how to punish you!
Sadly, the words didn’t have as much impact as Sophie had hoped.
Or any at all.
The stream of FRIEND! transmissions held steady, and Sophie was tempted to let Sandor take a stab at putting fear into them after all. Or maybe she’d call Bo over from wherever he was patrolling and let them face down an angry ogre warrior.
Instead, she stalked off through the pastures, making it clear that she was prepared to make good on her threat.
And Wynn and Luna galloped happily after her, as if they were heading off for an afternoon of adventure together.
It didn’t help that Sophie had no idea where to actually find Silveny and Greyfell, and kept guessing places that turned out to be busts. The alicorns weren’t confined like the other animals, because it was safer for them to have the option to teleport—though she might need to tell Grady and Edaline to reconsider that arrangement if Wynn and Luna didn’t get over their inexplicable obsession with the gorgodon.
Sophie truly didn’t understand the creature’s appeal to the stubborn baby alicorns. Sure, sometimes she felt a little sorry for the unruly beast, since it was the last of its kind and had lived through some particularly horrible things. But it was also ugly and angry and seemed determined to destroy anyone and everything simply because it could.
Definitely not an ideal playmate.
And yet, Wynn and Luna were convinced that the gorgodon was their FRIEND!
No barrier seemed capable of keeping them away, either.
Sophie still had no idea how the twins had slipped past all the wire that Grady and the gnomes had carefully wrapped around the enclosure after the last time Wynn had paid the gorgodon a visit. She’d checked everywhere for a gap, or a spot where the wire was loose, or for some sort of tunnel near the base—anything she could use to get Wynn and Luna out of there.
But there was nothing.
Even the gnomes who’d rushed over when they’d realized what was going on couldn’t figure it out, and Sandor had been forced to slash a new opening with his sword for them to use as an extraction point.
And all the while, the gorgodon had been striking at Wynn and Luna with its venomous, scorpion-like tail—coming so close to death blows that Sophie had to keep shutting her eyes, unable to watch the horror that seemed about to unfold.
But somehow, each time, Wynn and Luna managed to keep on flying.
And when the gnomes had finally coaxed them out of the enclosure with an absurd amount of swizzlespice, they didn’t even have a scratch on them—which was why Sophie hadn’t felt guilty about channeling all of her mental strength into a baby-alicorn tackle and hauling them far away by their gangly little legs.
She’d tried her best to make them understand how lucky they were that she’d been outside and realized what was going on with enough time to get them away from the deadly beast before something seriously tragic had happened. But none of that had gotten through to the stubborn twins.
So it was time to let their parents take over—and when Sophie finally found Silveny and Greyfell grazing near the pterodactyl enclosure, she braced for some epic freaking out.
But both the mama and papa alicorns kept right on munching as Sophie recounted the story.
And when Sophie finished, Silveny didn’t even bother raising her head when she transmitted, BABY OKAY! BABY OKAY!
It wasn’t a question.
It was a reassurance.
As if she wanted Sophie to know that she’d been worrying for nothing.
Sophie glanced at Greyfell, hoping he’d take over as Overprotective Daddy. But he just shook his mane and chomped down another mouthful of grass.
I don’t think you understand, Sophie told them, wondering if the danger had been somehow lost in the translation between their languages. Or maybe they didn’t realize how bad it had been because she hadn’t let herself scream while it was all happening, trying not to escalate the situation.
So she shared her actual memories from the morning, letting Silveny and Greyfell see exactly how close they’d come to losing one or both of their children.
And
still, Silveny simply nuzzled Sophie’s shoulder and transmitted, BABY STRONG! BABY STRONG!
Then Greyfell told Wynn and Luna to run along and play.
* * *
“I don’t get it,” Sophie grumbled after she’d stomped inside and recounted the whole harrowing tale again. Edaline had definitely looked shaken, and Grady had raced outside to check in with the gnomes at the gorgodon’s enclosure—the kinds of reactions she should have gotten from Silveny and Greyfell. “How can they not care? They were so overprotective when Silveny was pregnant—shouldn’t they be even more so now?”
“I don’t think this has anything to do with not caring,” Edaline assured her. “You’ve seen how they both dote on Wynn and Luna. I think… they just trust their children to handle themselves. Like Silveny said, ‘BABY STRONG!’ ”
“But Wynn and Luna almost died!” Sophie argued.
“I know. But… they didn’t. And obviously I can’t speak for Silveny’s decision-making—or Greyfell’s, for that matter. But we all know that they both went through some pretty difficult things before they came to live with us. And even with our protection, they’ve still endured several attempts on their lives. The world isn’t safe for sparkly flying horses. So maybe they’re trying to prepare their children for that reality, knowing that Wynn and Luna are going to need to be strong and fast and brave if they want any shot of surviving. It’s the struggle every parent faces as their children grow up. Trust me, we all wish we could lock our kids in a bubble and never let anyone or anything go near them—”
“And I’d be happy to arrange that,” Sandor jumped in.
“I’m sure you would,” Edaline said with a teasing smile. “But we’re not going to. Because that’s not how life works. If parents did that, our children would be miserable—and they’ll inevitably step into reality someday anyway, whether we want them to or not. So the best thing we can do is teach them the skills they need to survive, even when that means letting them take big risks.”
“Right, but… Silveny and Greyfell weren’t teaching them anything today,” Sophie argued. “They weren’t even there watching!”
Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8) Page 32
