Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8)

by Shannon Messenger

  “They are pretty cute,” Fitz noted. “Though, if you’re looking for cute distractions, I’m more than happy to offer my snuggle services.”

  He flashed a teasing smile as he stretched out his arm and patted her shoulder, inviting her to lean against him.

  They both pretended not to notice how long it took her to accept the invitation.

  It wasn’t because she didn’t want to.

  The boyfriend thing was still just so… new.

  And she couldn’t help running through a Humiliation-Risk mental checklist, trying to figure out if he’d be able to tell that she’d only had sponge baths for the last few days, or feel the nervous sweat pooling in the small of her back.

  “Relax, Sophie,” Fitz whispered. “I just thought it might help you to lean your head down a bit.”

  It did help.

  And it definitely was distracting to feel his arm around her and hear the thump thump thump of his heartbeat against her ear.

  But she couldn’t relax.

  “Have Livvy or Elwin said how much longer they think it’s going to take before you’re back to one hundred percent?” he asked as his fingers played casually with a strand of her hair.

  “Not really,” Sophie admitted. “But I’m guessing at least another week, since they’re still trying to limit how much medicine I take. They also think it’s going to set me back when I first test my inflicting.”

  His arm tightened around her. “When will you be doing that?”

  “I don’t know. Once Elwin and Livvy say I’m ready, I guess—though if they keep babying me, I might lose my temper and then there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me.”

  She tried adding an evil laugh to the end of that statement, but the joke felt super forced. And she found herself once again missing the days when spending time with Fitz didn’t feel so painfully awkward.

  Sure, he’d always made her nervous—but most of those worries had been connected to the fact that she was super afraid he’d figure out that she liked him and not feel the same way.

  She didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

  After all, he’d come by to see her.

  They were snuggling.

  And yet.

  And yet…

  She couldn’t quiet the voice in the back of her mind that kept reminding her how important matchmaking was to Fitz.

  And how soon he’d be able to start picking up his lists.

  And how right now, there was no way her name would be on them.

  She also didn’t know how long it would take her to fix the situation or how Fitz really felt in the meantime.

  Which probably meant they needed to have a long conversation—put all those fears and doubts “out there” and see where they stood.

  That would be the mature, responsible way to handle the situation.

  But… Sophie couldn’t seem to make her mouth form those words.

  Or any words.

  So she just sat there, and the silence stretched between them, making Fitz feel farther and farther away even though they’d technically never been so close.

  Fitz finally ended her misery by clearing his throat and murmuring, “So… I brought you a present. Well, two presents, actually.”

  “You did?”

  Sophie turned her head enough to be able to see his face, and there was his perfect smile again, along with a teasing glint in his eye.

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” he told her. “I used to bring you presents all the time!”

  He had.

  It’d been one of her favorite things.

  Not for the gifts themselves, which were usually just silly trinkets. But for the fact that it proved he’d been thinking about her.

  It was always so easy for Sophie to convince herself that a guy like Fitz Vacker would never be interested in someone as weird as she was. But every time he brought her some sweet, thoughtful gift that proved how well he knew her, she’d think… maybe he could.

  “Anyway,” he said, and she realized she was probably supposed to respond to his other statement. “Sorry I’ve dropped the ball on the gift giving lately.”

  “You don’t have to apologize—”

  “I do, though,” he insisted, gently helping her sit up so they could face each other. “I totally meant to bring you something yesterday, after the Council’s Regent Announcement. But my mom planned this whole dinner for Biana, and Keefe’s dad nagged me to come over and work through more memories, and then I was worried it’d be too late and you’d be sleeping, and—”

  “It’s fine,” Sophie assured him. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

  Or, that’s what she’d been telling herself, since she’d had to miss the big announcement.

  She’d tried to go—that was why she’d dragged herself downstairs. But much as she hated to admit it, Sandor had been right to haul her back to bed. There was definitely no way she could’ve stood in a fancy gown with a crown on her head and listened to the Council answer everyone’s questions about the arrangement.

  She would’ve passed out for sure.

  So instead, she’d been the mysteriously absent team leader.

  The one everyone was probably wondering about. Whispering about—

  “Here,” Fitz said, distracting her with a tiny silver box tied with silky teal ribbon. “That’s what I meant to bring by yesterday.”

  Sophie hoped he didn’t notice the way her hands shook when she untied the bow and pulled open the lid to find…

  “You have a charm bracelet, don’t you?” Fitz asked as Sophie picked up the intricate silver charm—a howling dire wolf, just like her Regent patch.

  “I do.” She didn’t wear it very often because Grady and Edaline had bought it after she was kidnapped, when they thought they’d be extending their annual commemorative charm tradition to another lost daughter.

  But that didn’t make it any less thoughtful and amazing of a gift.

  It was perfect.

  Just like Fitz…

  “I love it,” she told him, tucking the tiny wolf safely back into its box and wishing she could think of something more meaningful to add than, “Thank you so much.”

  But she wasn’t perfect—especially when it came to romantic gestures.

  Fortunately, Fitz didn’t seem to notice.

  “Don’t thank me yet! You still have one more gift—and this one’s special. So special it comes with a speech.” He held her gently by her shoulders, waiting for her to meet his eyes. “I know this boyfriend-girlfriend thing is hard for you. Don’t shake your head—we both know it is. And that’s okay. I get it. And I’m sure you remember me telling you that we’d go at your pace. I asked you to trust me. And then… I don’t know, somehow things got a whole lot more complicated, and I felt like I didn’t know what to do anymore. And I know that’s probably made it even harder for you to trust me, so I want you to know that nothing’s changed for me, okay? Nothing. Still no pressure. Still no time limit. Still your pace. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to prove that, and… this is the best I could come up with.…”

  He let go of her shoulders and reached into his cape pocket, retrieving something as wide as a book but much thinner, covered in shiny teal paper.

  And when Sophie unwrapped it…

  “Oh wow,” she breathed, needing a few seconds to even process what she was seeing.

  It was a picture of her and Fitz, sitting under Calla’s Panakes tree, just like they were right then. Only the scene was darker. And he was sitting even closer, with his hand cradling her cheek and…

  “This is a memory,” she realized.

  His memory.

  Of the night he’d just been talking about—when he’d promised he’d wait for her to be ready for all the relationship stuff.

  He’d even captured the tears that had slipped down her cheeks while they’d been talking—and Sophie could feel new ones burning her eyes.

  “How did you…?” she asked, still trying to understand what she
was seeing.

  The gift looked more like a painting—but Fitz didn’t paint, did he?

  And the style looked familiar.…

  “Keefe helped me,” Fitz admitted, before Sophie’s brain could get there. “I started out projecting the memory—but… it didn’t look quite right, because I don’t have a photographic memory like some people. So there were details missing, and parts that were a little blurry. So I paid Keefe to paint over it and add in all the stuff my mind didn’t get right.”

  “Wait—you paid Keefe?” Sophie asked, not sure why that was the part her mind had fixated on.

  Fitz nodded. “Otherwise it’s his gift—and it’s not. This is from me. Just like I’m the one who wrote the words on the back.”

  Sophie hadn’t thought to flip it over. But she did, and there, in Fitz’s neat handwriting, was his simple plea:

  Trust me.

  “I do,” she promised, feeling her tears spill over onto her cheeks. “I just—”

  “I know,” he interrupted, taking her hand and tangling her gloved fingers with his. “I get it. The unmatchable thing—it threw us both off. And I really wish I’d handled it better. I should’ve done everything I could to make it clear that it doesn’t change anything for me. I’m still here, still waiting on you to set the pace. And I know it’s all going to work out, Sophie. We’re going to work out. Just trust me, okay? Talk to me. Lean on me. Don’t hide or run away, or give up or… whoa.”

  “Whoa?” Sophie repeated, not sure what to make of the way Fitz was staring at their hands.

  “You have gloves on,” he said.

  “I do…,” Sophie agreed. “Is that a problem?”

  “What about your fingernail gadgets?” he asked, ignoring the question. “Are those on?”

  Sophie nodded. “I always keep them turned on. It just makes more sense that way. Why?”

  Fitz finally looked up at her, and his eyes were wide—and a little glazed—as he murmured, “It looks like your inflicting wasn’t the only ability affected by the reset. Right now, even with all of that to block it, I can feel you enhancing me.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  FITZ WAS RIGHT.

  Sophie’s enhancing was definitely stronger.

  In fact, it took four layers of gloves and her fingernail gadgets to block the ability’s effect on him.

  And when she tried holding his hand without any barriers between them, it felt like lightning striking each of their palms. Fitz had to let go after a few seconds, so they weren’t able to see exactly what the added boost allowed him to do with his telepathy. But Fitz did say it gave his mind a level of clarity he’d never experienced before.

  The strangest part, though, was what they discovered throughout the course of the day, after testing the ability on anyone else they could gather: Everyone had a different threshold—and there didn’t seem to be any logic to it.

  Edaline, Elwin, Livvy, Biana, Dex, and Wylie all felt her enhancing fade as soon as Sophie added a second pair of gloves.

  But Stina needed a third pair—and could feel a noticeable boost even without any physical contact.

  Keefe needed six layers of gloves—and even then, he could still feel a tiny hum across his senses. But Sophie couldn’t squeeze a seventh glove on over the others to see if it would help.

  She expected Keefe to be very smug about how strong that meant his empathy was—or at least make an abundance of jokes about the thrill of holding his hand. But Keefe actually seemed… a little shaken.

  Not as shaken as Grady—though that wasn’t totally a surprise to Sophie.

  The one and only time that she’d ever enhanced Grady, he’d told her afterward, “Never let me do that again.”

  But Sophie hated the distance it suddenly put between them.

  Grady didn’t want to risk exposure to the power, so he held back from hugging Sophie or reaching for her hand—or even standing too close. And the thought of that being her “new normal” made Sophie ill enough to reach out to Mr. Forkle and demand that he come to Havenfield immediately.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, after they’d discovered that Mr. Forkle needed her to wear four layers of gloves to fully block her enhancing, and experienced the same jolt that Fitz had when he made direct contact with her fingertips. “Why wasn’t it like this yesterday?”

  “Because your abilities, like your body, are still recovering from the reset,” Mr. Forkle explained. “As you grow stronger, so will they.”

  Sophie stared at her fingers, which looked like big marshmallows under all the layers of fabric. “So… this is how it’s going to be now? I’m stuck with puffy fingers and people afraid to touch me?”

  “No,” he assured her. “You’ve simply entered another period of adjustment. Try not to panic, Miss Foster. There’s always a solution. And while it may be hard to see it at the moment, this is good news. You’ve now become far, far more powerful than your enemies.”

  “No, anyone who touches me is more powerful,” Sophie corrected, “so really, I’m actually way more vulnerable.”

  Her imagination happily painted her a new nightmare.

  A moonlark in a cage.

  Forced to empower anyone who shoved their hand through the bars.

  And the truly terrifying part was how easily her captors shifted in her mind, from the Neverseen to the Council—even to the Black Swan.

  After all: Who wouldn’t want to exploit a resource like that?

  “We wouldn’t,” Mr. Forkle assured her, and she wasn’t sure if he’d read her mind or if he’d simply noticed the way her eyes had narrowed with suspicion. “We would never use you against your will, Miss Foster. You always have a choice.”

  “How?” She held up her marshmallow hands. “This ability is automatic.”

  “I actually wonder if that’s true anymore,” he murmured, scratching his chin. “With a power this strong—and a brilliant mind like yours—I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some sort of internal trigger you’ve yet to discover, one that allows you to rein in the ability through concentration or sheer willpower.”

  Sophie blinked. “If that did exist… how would I find it?”

  “That would be up to you to determine,” he told her. “Journeys of self-discovery must be embarked upon alone.”

  “Great,” Sophie grumbled, making no effort to hide her eye roll. “You realize that’s not actually an answer, right?”

  “It is—it’s just not the answer you seek,” Mr. Forkle countered. “You want a ready solution, and I cannot give that to you. But I can assure you that if you become more mindful as you use this ability—more aware of the tiny shifts and connections occurring within you as it works—you’ll likely discover whole new worlds of strength and control. Remember, this ability wasn’t one we chose for you—it was one your genetics naturally dictated. Which likely means your genetics have given you the means to manage it on your own.”

  Sophie sighed. “That’s still not helpful.”

  “It will be,” he insisted. “You just need to give yourself a chance to process.”

  “Yeah, well, in the meantime, I’m stuck with eight zillion pairs of gloves and trying not to let my enemies get anywhere near me. Might as well lock me in my room.”

  “I’m on board with that plan,” Sandor jumped in. “I’ll happily stand guard at the door.”

  Mr. Forkle smiled. “That won’t be necessary. Miss Foster simply needs to remember to rely on her friends.”

  He called Dex over and had Dex hold one of Sophie’s fingernail gadgets in one hand while letting her fully enhance him.

  “Oh wow,” Dex breathed, his knees buckling the second her fingertips touched his skin—and miraculously, no one made any jokes about Sophie knocking a boy off his feet as Stina and Biana lunged to hold Dex steady. No one mentioned how many additional times Dex whispered, “Wow,” before he pulled his hand free and sank to the grass, staring at the sky.

  “Think you can make some adjustments to Tinker’s desig
n?” Mr. Forkle asked him after several seconds. “Create a more powerful shield for Miss Foster’s ability until she learns how to manage it with her mind?”

  “I think so, yeah,” Dex mumbled, followed by a bunch of techy words that sounded like gibberish.

  “I’ll take him inside,” Biana volunteered, hooking Dex’s arm around her shoulders and hauling him to his shaky feet. “He’s going to need a notebook to write this all down and make some sketches.”

  “See?” Mr. Forkle said, turning back to Sophie. “Your teammates are already working on a technical solution. And while they do that, I want you to get some rest—and spend the whole day in bed tomorrow if you can. Try to clear your mind of all other worries and start that mental journey.”

  “How?” Sophie asked.

  Mr. Forkle smiled. “That’s up to you. But the first step is sleep.”

  * * *

  As it turned out, mental journeys were every bit as pointless and annoying as Sophie expected—and also, surprisingly exhausting.

  Her mind didn’t want to “clear.”

  Focusing on her breathing just ended up making her spend hours counting.

  And when she tried to listen to her body, all it told her was that she was restless. And hungry. And really hated wearing so many pairs of gloves.

  So Sophie literally tackled Dex with a hug the next day, when he showed up with Lovise and Mr. Forkle to deliver her newly designed fingernail gadgets.

  The gadgets were clear this time and had to be worn on every finger—and the sequence of taps to activate and deactivate them was much more complicated. But once the gadgets were in place and active, they seemed to do their job perfectly, blocking her enhancing both for Dex and Mr. Forkle.

  “You should probably test them on Keefe,” Dex suggested, “since he was even more sensitive to your ability than we were. And I’d still recommend wearing double gloves—and keeping a couple of extra pairs in your pockets.”

  Mr. Forkle clicked his tongue. “Have you so little faith in your talent, Mr. Dizznee?”

  “No. I just also know technology isn’t perfect. It breaks. Or other stuff interacts with it. So it’s good to have a backup plan.”