Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 8)

by Shannon Messenger

  “As opposed to cowering behind a force field?” Councillor Noland shouted back.

  “Wait—what hostages?” Keefe asked.

  And then his eyes seemed to notice, for the first time, the daggers being held at Flori’s and King Enki’s throats—and he stumbled back, shaking his head.

  Sophie assumed he was fighting the same mix of frustration and horror and disgust that she was.

  But Keefe had focused on the piece she’d missed. “You’re holding the DWARVEN KING hostage?” he shouted at his mother. “In the middle of HIS CITY? Right by HIS THRONE?”

  Lady Gisela shrugged. “It’ll be fine, so long as you cooperate.”

  Keefe whistled. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You’re in a way bigger mess than we are.”

  Sophie had to agree—but she couldn’t share Keefe’s smugness.

  The Neverseen rarely made mistakes—and when they did, they were disasters.

  Vicious, bloodthirsty newborn troll–level disasters.

  And now they had a dwarven king being held at knifepoint.

  And while King Enki was being shockingly quiet and submissive for the moment—surely it was only a matter of time before his guards came charging in.

  What if they blamed her and her friends, since one of them had made the force field that first trapped him?

  Would the Councillors be able to smooth over a situation that fraught?

  “Oh, stop with the wide-eyed-glancing-over-your-shoulders-with-panic thing,” Lady Gisela told her. “You look as pathetic as your little friends cowering behind your goblin—who’s supposed to be protecting you, isn’t he?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Sophie told her, glad to see that Sandor had positioned himself between Wylie and Maruca, since she had Ro near her. “You’re the one who’s going to be facing down an army of angry dwarves. Is all of this really worth it?” She waved her arms around the damaged throne room, imagining the depths of King Enki’s fury. “Whatever crazy thing you’re planning—”

  “There’s nothing crazy about this!” Lady Gisela corrected. “Though those who lead the charge are often seen as such. And I’ll endure the scorn, and the risk, and the sacrifice, and the work, because I’m building something lasting. I’m building a—”

  “If you say ‘legacy’ right now,” Ro interrupted, “I’m seriously going to hurl—and it won’t smell good, so others will follow, and it’ll be a great big barf-fest. And usually I’m all for that! But… you’ve got a knife pressed to my sweet little gnome-y friend’s neck, so I’d rather we all stay focused, okay? At least till the army of angry dwarves gets here.”

  “Shouldn’t be too much longer!” Keefe added.

  Lady Gisela smiled. “Oh, but it will be—because that army is currently very, very busy in the main marketplace, thanks to Vespera’s intricate little plan. Her style’s a bit much. Though she has a true flair for the dramatic—but you know that already, don’t you, Sophie? I’ll admit, I’m a little surprised that you haven’t so much as asked about your other friends. You really should be much more worried.”

  “They can handle themselves,” Sophie assured her, choking down a tiny stab of guilt.

  Lady Gisela smirked. “You mean like your group? You lasted, what? Thirty seconds? Long enough to form one very foolish force field and end things before they even began?” Her smile widened when Maruca hung her head. “And now here we are, me in complete control and—”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call this complete control,” Keefe corrected, “since, you know, the second you tell Tammy Boy to lower that force field, you’re going to have to face the wrath of Foster’s inflicting—which, bad news for you, is even more powerful when I’m here. Why do you think I decided to stop by?”

  “That’s why?” Sophie asked, reeling toward him. “Seriously?”

  “Much as I’d love to watch my son try to dig his way out of that,” Lady Gisela jumped in, “that’s not why he’s here—nor is it because of any threat you think I made in the note I left him. Or whatever mind games you think I’ve played. The simple truth is, my son is here because deep down he wants to fulfill his legacy. He wants to become everything he was made for.”

  “Wow, you know me so well,” Keefe deadpanned. “Please, tell me more about my hopes and dreams.”

  “Go ahead, hide behind your sarcasm and your attitude,” Lady Gisela told him. “I see the truth in you, Keefe. I always have. You’re an artist. A visionary. And you know the future I’ve created for you is your chance to be on the right side of history.”

  Keefe blinked for a second, his mouth forming several different words before he choked out a laugh. “A visionary. Sure—that’s exactly why I’m here.”

  “Then why are you?” Sophie asked again. “Why couldn’t you just keep your promise?”

  Keefe sighed and shuffled his feet. “I… kept thinking about what you said—about wanting to come to Loamnore on our terms. And I realized that in all your talk about taking a stand, you never said anything about an exit strategy. So I thought I’d bring you one just in case—and… it looks like we’re going to need it. Good thing Linh has dwarven bodyguards.”

  The words were still swimming through Sophie’s head when he tapped his toe again, and she finally realized what he was doing.

  Dwarven bodyguards.

  A signal.

  And sure enough, the floor rumbled, and two dwarves burst into the room—directly under Maruca’s force field—and before Lady Gisela could finish shouting, “Stop them!” the new dwarves grabbed their king and Flori and dived back into the sand.

  Safe.

  “There go your hostages!” Keefe taunted while Lady Gisela turned to the cloaked figure on her left and told him, “NOW.”

  Then everything went dark.

  The force field.

  Sophie’s and Wylie’s circlets.

  The Councillors’ cloak pins.

  The sconces by the door.

  It was disorienting.

  Overwhelming.

  And Sophie wanted to run—wanted to hide—but this was her chance.

  Focus, she told herself, opening her mind, searching for Lady Gisela’s thoughts.

  If she could find her, she could inflict, and this would all be over.

  But the darkness was so thick, it seeped into her consciousness.

  Making her eyes heavy.

  Her mind foggy.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” a new voice asked—one that felt familiar, but Sophie’s cloudy brain couldn’t place it, until a blazing ball of orange flared to life, stinging Sophie’s eyes and filling the room with heat and light from a flickering fireball hovering over the hands of a girl who wasn’t supposed to be there.

  “Did I not mention?” Keefe called from somewhere in the shadows. “I brought friends.”

  “And fire beats darkness—every time,” Marella added, her smile glinting in the light of her flames.

  “Does it?” Lady Gisela called—and Sophie tried to track the sound of the voice, now that her head was clearing.

  But the fire was snuffed out, and the sleepiness settled in and—

  Another new voice shouted, “Stop it, Tam!”

  Sophie was pretty sure every person was thinking the same question.

  But the only voice that whispered it out loud was dark and haunted.

  A ghost in the shadows.

  “Linh?”

  The darkness thinned, and a black-cloaked figure melted out of the shadows, tossing back his hood as he strode forward, and another fireball flashed to life—blue this time, and casting a wide enough glow to reveal Linh standing next to Marella, still shaking sand out of her hair.

  “How are you here?” he whispered, his silvery eyes turning glassy.

  “Our bodyguards,” she told him, reaching out to gather his tears, letting them shine through the air around them. “And Keefe.”

  The room dimmed again.

  Marella swelled her fireball brighter, and Linh grabbed her brothe
r’s arm, not letting him disappear.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured. “I told you not to be here.”

  “I know,” Linh said, adding his fresh tears to the others. Surrounding them in their own kind of starlight. “But I am here. Because we’re stronger together.”

  “For the record, Hunkyhair,” Ro called from somewhere behind Sophie, “that was the answer you should’ve given.”

  “And much as I hate to break up this touching brother-sister bonding moment,” Lady Gisela added, her voice echoing around the room—everywhere and nowhere—“NEUTRALIZE THE HYDROKINETIC!”

  Tam straightened, his body turning soldier-rigid, and his eyes clouded as he raised his hands, opening his mouth, but…

  He shook his head and stumbled back—crying out in pain and curling his arms around himself and shaking, shaking, shaking.

  Linh scrambled toward him, but Tam raised his hands again, this time like stop signs. “Stay back! It’s not safe! I’m not safe!”

  He pulled down his sleeves, revealing the glowing bonds on his wrists—which definitely were brighter than King Enki’s crown.

  Sophie could barely look at them.

  And every time she tried, it felt wrong.

  “Think there’s any way a Flasher can break those things?” Sophie asked Wylie, who was already making his way closer—with Maruca and Sandor right behind him.

  “I’ll try my best,” Wylie promised.

  “And it will never work,” an unfamiliar female voice told him. “Only the person who sealed the bonds can unseal them.”

  “And I’m guessing that was you?” Keefe called into the darkness.

  “It was,” agreed the voice, which had to belong to the other member of the Neverseen—who was clearly the person they needed.

  More fire, Sophie transmitted to Marella, and Marella made her blue fireball double in size.

  Heat licked Sophie’s cheeks as she searched the brighter space, relieved to finally see all of her friends.

  But there were still too many shadows and cracks and crevices.

  Keep her talking, Sophie transmitted to Keefe as she opened up her mind.

  She was finding this girl—now.

  And she was making her set Tam free.

  “That didn’t bother you? Treating someone like that?” Keefe called to the girl, obeying Sophie’s request. “Didn’t make you wonder what they’d do to you if they were willing to do that to him?”

  “You’re wasting your time,” Lady Gisela told him. “Glimmer’s more loyal to our cause than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Glimmer,” Keefe repeated. “Wooooow. Okay, then. How’d you pick that name?”

  “Am I the only one wondering what we’re still doing here?” someone whispered in Sophie’s ear—arguably the last voice that Sophie wanted to hear. “This is a standoff now,” her biological mother informed her, “and our side seems to be out of moves—and King Enki’s surely rallying the troops. We need to get out of here.”

  “How?” Sophie whispered back. “Tam can’t leave with those things on his wrists, and Linh’s not going to leave her brother, and I’m not leaving anyone behind. And even if we had a fix for all of that, how are we supposed to get out of the city?”

  Keefe was right—they didn’t have an exit strategy.

  And his hadn’t worked.

  Which was strange.

  He’d dragged even more of their friends into danger—he wouldn’t have done that unless they were essential to his plan.

  And all Marella had done was make a couple of flames.

  And all Linh had done was say hi to Tam.

  Was that really all that was supposed to happen?

  That was when she noticed the way Keefe kept shuffling his feet as he tried to draw out the conversation.

  The very deliberate, repetitive pattern—as if he were calling for more dwarves and nothing was happening.

  Which made her wonder how bad it was in the main marketplace.

  What was Vespera doing?

  It had to be something huge for King Enki to wait this long to come after the elves who’d pressed a knife to his throat.

  Bile soured Sophie’s tongue, and she wondered if it was a mistake that she hadn’t reached out to Fitz—but were they supposed to do that if things went bad?

  She closed her eyes, deciding it had to be better to know.

  But as she stretched out her concentration… she heard it.

  A low, audible rumble in the ground.

  “I guess that means it’s time,” Lady Gisela said, her voice echoing everywhere as the ground shook beneath their feet.

  “Time to find out what happens when you take a king hostage,” Councillor Liora told her. “Don’t expect us to speak in your defense.”

  “Oh, I won’t,” Lady Gisela assured her as a dozen dwarves burst out of the floor—and a dozen more after that.

  And Sophie shouted to her friends, “Raise your hands!”

  Like humans did when they faced the police, to make it clear they posed no threat.

  It’s going to be fine, she told herself. Keefe’s the one who helped rescue him.

  Surely this is only between him and the Neverseen.

  But when she glanced toward the dwarven king—who now stood blocking the door—his eyes were fixed on her.

  And they were not friendly.

  He held her stare as he raised his leg and slammed his foot down hard enough to crack the floor and…

  Then there was chaos.

  And Sophie understood why humans loved to say “it was all a blur,” because her brain had no way to process what had happened.

  Screams and gasps and grunts and pain—but only for a few heartbeats—and then Sophie realized she was now on the floor, limbs bound, something heavy on her back.

  And she wasn’t the only one.

  She couldn’t turn her head much, but she could see Keefe and Maruca and Wylie and Sandor and Ro.

  Only Keefe was conscious.

  And Sophie’s mind fixated on the “how”—how the dwarves could strike so fast, so true, and take out their group in seconds.

  But when she found her voice, she shoved down those questions, focusing on the fact that she needed King Enki to know. “We weren’t a part of this.”

  She expected him to argue.

  But he told her, “I know.”

  “Then why?” Sophie wondered, still trying to figure out the misunderstanding as King Enki crouched in front of her.

  “Your Council and your Black Swan have come to my city many times—telling me to trust them and no others. Begging for my help. My faith. My fealty. Offering their help in exchange, as if I haven’t noticed how many times they’ve failed. As if my people haven’t had to help them rebuild, over and over and over, after their defeats. As if I didn’t wonder if they ever had a victory. And then they came to me again, telling me they were now allies. Stronger. Smarter. And they told me the next attack would be in my city. Promised to stop it. Told me to trust. But they had no plan. And they sent me children. So I knew how it would end. And I made my own alliance. With the ones who win.”

  Sophie’s mouth went dry.

  And her heart pounded harder, harder, harder as she strained her neck, searching the prone figures around her for any sign of a black cloak.

  “Don’t struggle,” King Enki told her as she tried to twist free, reaching for the strength in her core. “And don’t dare use any of your abilities. Your friends are unconscious now—but I can finish them easily, starting with your goblin, ogre, and gnome.”

  Keefe barked a vicious laugh. “You’re seriously allying with the people who had a knife to your throat a few minutes ago instead of the people who helped you escape?”

  King Enki marched over to where Keefe lay struggling against the dwarf holding him. “If you think I couldn’t have knocked the Shade to the ground and stabbed him with his own weapon—or simply tunneled away—you’re a bigger fool than I imagined.”

 
“Then why…?” Sophie started to ask.

  But it wasn’t hard to figure out.

  Not with hindsight, at least.

  “You needed to wait for Keefe to arrive,” Sophie said, certain Lady Gisela was nearby listening. “So you let King Enki play hostage.”

  “It wasn’t my most clever improvisation—but it got the job done,” she agreed. “Though King Enki still owes me one more thing.”

  King Enki sighed. “If you go back on your word—”

  “I won’t,” Lady Gisela assured him.

  “Then so be it,” King Enki said, and Sophie twisted and fought, but it didn’t matter. She could only watch as he dragged Keefe over to his throne and dropped him onto the seat—then placed his crown over Keefe’s head.

  Keefe looked like he was trying to thrash and kick, but his body wouldn’t—couldn’t—move.

  “It’s the magsidian,” King Enki told him. “I carved new facets in the throne this morning to make it draw body heat. There’s no way you can resist the pull. So I’d save your energy. It sounds like you’re going to need it.”

  With that he stood tall and turned to Lady Gisela and said, “My debt is fulfilled—do your ceremony.”

  “It’s not a ceremony,” Lady Gisela corrected. “It’s a transformation. The beginning of a brilliant new legacy. And it starts now.”

  FIFTY

  SO… MY LEGACY IS… KING of the dwarves?” Keefe asked, trying for a smirk—but it looked too much like a grimace. “Gotta admit, I did not see that coming!”

  And somewhere out of Sophie’s line of sight, there was a very loud sigh.

  “You really will make a joke out of anything, won’t you?” Lady Gisela asked from the same direction.

  “Um, you just had King Enki shove me onto his throne and crown me—what else am I supposed to think?” Keefe argued. “Where is he, by the way? I feel like he owes me a bow—and an ‘As you wish, King Keefe!’ ”

  He tried to crane his neck to search the shadowy Grand Hall, but the pull of the altered magsidian throne must’ve been too strong to allow him the motion.

  Sophie wasn’t having much better luck with her own ability to move.