And now . . . she was terrified.
“So,” Fitz said, watching her fidget with some of the fallen blossoms. “Do you want to say it? Or do you want me to guess? Or do you want me to drop it and we’ll just sit here and stare at the stars?” He glanced over his shoulder and pointed to the sky, which had faded to a peaceful swirl of purple and blue, brushed with flecks of twinkling glitter. “Anything’s fine, Sophie. Seriously.” He reached for her hand, gently tangling her gloved fingers with his. “I told you my new goal is to get you to trust me. And I mean it. I know this is hard for you. It’s hard for me, too—but in a different way. I’m only worried you’re going to laugh or—”
“I would never laugh,” Sophie interrupted. “I do like you, Fitz. You . . . have no idea how much.”
His smile shone in the dim light.
“I might have some idea,” he said, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear—and Sophie couldn’t help leaning into his hand. “So why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on in here,” he added, tapping her temple as he made the request.
Sophie swallowed, fighting to find her voice. The most she could manage was a whisper. “I’m thinking . . . I want all of this to be real so badly, but . . . I can’t really control that. Even if I register for the match . . .”
Fitz nodded. “I figured that’s what you might be thinking.” His fingers trailed gently across her cheek, triggering so many tingles she almost missed it when he said, “You don’t have to worry about that, Sophie. There’s no way we won’t be matched.”
It was really hard not to laugh. “How can you say that?”
“How can I not?”
“Oh please, let’s . . . let’s be realistic. You’re this . . . golden child from this golden family, and I’m—”
“The most powerful elf our world has ever seen,” he finished for her. “I know you don’t see yourself that way—it’s one of the things I like about you. You could be the most arrogant, obnoxious person ever, and you’re not. But sometimes I wish you saw yourself a little clearer, so you’d actually believe me when I tell you this.” He waited patiently for her to meet his eyes. “You’re brilliant and talented and beautiful and—are you crying?”
“Sorry,” she said as his thumb brushed away the tears she hadn’t been able to blink back in time. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize!”
“Why? I’m being ridiculous. It’s just . . . no one’s ever said anything like that to me before.”
And to have it coming from him . . .
He brushed another tear away, and she pretty much melted against his hand. “I’m glad I got to be the first to do it,” he whispered, leaning close enough for his breath to tickle her damp cheek. “And I’m going to keep doing it until I make you believe me, okay? I mean it. I’m not giving up until you realize how awesome it’s all going to be. And until then . . . we’re good.”
“We’re good,” Sophie repeated, the words like a splash of cold water.
“I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I mean . . . we wait to do this for real until you’re ready. Until I can tell you I think you’re amazing and it doesn’t make you cry.”
“I might always cry about that,” she warned him.
He laughed softly. “Fine. Then until they’re only happy tears. Okay? No pressure. No time limit. You set the pace and I’ll just . . . follow your lead. But I’ll be right here whenever you’re ready—well, not right here because that’d get a little creepy. But . . . you know what I mean, right?”
She did, actually.
And it was . . . perfect.
All the panic had melted away.
“So,” he said slowly, “we’re good?”
“I think so,” she said, still worrying she was about to lose something special.
But Fitz shook his head, like he knew what she was thinking, and whispered, “Just trust me, Sophie.”
He leaned even closer and her heart became very aware that he might kiss her.
And she would’ve let him—and had zero regrets.
But when he closed his eyes, his lips only brushed her cheek, and he whispered, “Trust me,” again.
And even though it wasn’t everything . . .
It was a real beginning.
And for now, that was more than enough.
FORTY-FOUR
GRADY AND EDALINE TRIED TO pretend that they hadn’t been waiting for Sophie when she found them standing by the stairs after she’d finally said good night to Fitz. Just like they tried to pretend that they were simply making sure she didn’t need help when they stopped by her room three times as she got ready for bed.
The fourth time Edaline came alone, and Sophie knew she was in for it.
“Let me make this easy, okay?” Edaline said, leaning against the door frame, either giving Sophie space or blocking her escape—it was hard to tell. “I trust you, Sophie. So you don’t have to talk to me about how scared you were for Silveny and her babies. Or about what happened with Alvar at Everglen. Just like you don’t have to tell me what you said to Tarina to convince her to help, or where you guys went to get those transport pods. And we definitely don’t have to discuss what’s going on with you and Fitz. But. I’m your mom, so I have to at least make sure you know that if you need to talk about any of it, you can. I won’t get upset. I’ll even try my best to not make it embarrassing. And . . . you never know—I might be able to help. So . . . offer’s on the table.”
“Thanks,” Sophie mumbled.
They stared at each other for a beat. Then Edaline nodded and turned to go. But she’d only taken one step before she glanced over her shoulder. “While I’m being honest, I should probably confess to peeking out the window a few times tonight while you and Fitz were having your very sweet moment.”
Sophie groaned and covered her face with her hands. “I thought you said you wouldn’t make this embarrassing.”
“I said I’d try. Plus, there’s nothing embarrassing about the way he was looking at you, Sophie. That boy is smitten. You know that, right?”
Sophie groaned louder. But after a second, she had to peek through her fingers and ask, “You really think so?” Which was a mistake, because the next thing she knew Edaline was plopping down next to her on the bed, settling in for a long heart-to-heart.
“Oh, stop trying to hide under the covers,” Edaline said, grabbing Sophie’s blankets before she could pull them over her head. “You asked the question. And yes, I think he’s smitten. He has been for a while. And I know he’s always been special to you—don’t even try to deny it. So . . . I’m glad you guys are finally figuring that out. Just try to be prepared for the fact that dating changes things, and—”
“We’re not dating,” Sophie interrupted.
Edaline’s eyebrows raised.
“We’re not. We’re . . . waiting. Until it doesn’t feel so scary.”
“See?” Edaline said, leaning in to kiss her cheek “And that is why I trust you. You’ve always been such a smart girl, Sophie. And you’ve always been so good at staying true to yourself, despite the tremendous pressure you’re under. I hope you hold fast to that and never feel pressured to be anything other than you.” She reached for Sophie’s healing hand, checking each of her knuckles—which were slightly swollen from all the strain—as she added, “And I hope you know how proud we are of how you handled everything with Silveny today. Those babies are alive because of you.”
Sophie reached for Ella with her other hand. “I just hope they make it. I mean . . . they’re safe right now, but there are still so many things that could go wrong.”
“I know. But no matter what happens, you gave them the best possible chance you could. Be proud of that. Be proud of every choice you made today, even if you discover consequences later. And know that Grady and I are here to support you through whatever lies ahead.”
“As am I,” Sandor said from the doorway. “Though that’s difficult for me to do when you vanish without me. But”—he held up his hands t
o silence her explanation—“I realize I must accept the role I played in that decision. I chose to rely on your other bodyguards to keep you safe for a few hours. And that’s exactly what Tarina did, even if it turned out to include much more adventure than I’d anticipated. So I can’t fault any of you. But from now on, count on me not letting you out of my sight.”
Sophie nodded. “How’s the security at the hive?”
“Good. Tarina volunteered to stay the night to make sure the patrols are running smoothly. And none of them know what they’re protecting, because we’re trying to keep rumors to a minimum. So we stationed them all on the other side of the illusion. They think they’re guarding the bridge.”
“Smart,” Sophie told him. “Thank you.”
“Sure.” He moved to his usual post, just outside her door, and it felt like proof that life was shifting back to normal.
“I should let you rest,” Edaline told her, handing Sophie a vial of pink sedative. “Tomorrow will be another exhausting day.”
“It will?” Sophie asked, not sure why she was surprised.
Edaline nodded. “Grady had to contact the Council and tell them what was happening. They’ll be here first thing in the morning to have you answer some questions.”
Sophie sighed and knocked back her elixir. “Of course.”
• • •
When the Council said “first thing in the morning”—they meant it. The sun was barely beginning to warm the sky when Sandor, Grady, and Bo led Sophie into the pastures, where all twelve Councillors were lined up around Silveny and Greyfell’s enclosure.
Thankfully, both alicorns were still sleeping, too exhausted to notice their audience, who’d shown up in all their jewels and finery, likely trying to intimidate Sophie—though Oralie and Bronte gave her grateful smiles.
Lots of questions followed, many of which made it clear that the Council suspected another elf had been involved in her visit to the troll’s hive—had long suspected it, in fact. But Sophie refused to give Luzia away and stuck with short, simple answers.
Councillor Emery sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s my job,” Sophie countered.
“As the moonlark?” Councillor Alina asked with a notable scoff in her voice.
Sophie smiled sweetly at her. “As a teenager.”
Bo made a choked sound that might’ve been a laugh.
Then the Council demanded to see the baby alicorns, and Sophie found it particularly enjoyable when she got to drag them, as well as Sandor and Bo, off a cliff. She may have even waited a second longer than necessary before she split the sky and plunged them into the void. And the landing might’ve intentionally been a little bumpy.
“First order of business,” Councillor Alina said, shaking bits of grass out of her now disheveled hair. “We’re making a crystal to light leap to this place.”
“Agreed,” Councillor Emery said, his usually rich voice hoarse from all the screaming. “I’ve already noted the coordinates. And don’t worry, Miss Foster, we’ll only make one.”
“Which I’ll be in charge of,” Bronte added.
They had to take turns filing into the hive to inspect the babies, and no one seemed to know what to make of the tiny alicorns floating in the thick green goo. But Tarina assured them that everything was going well, and that as long as nothing changed, they’d have happy, healthy babies hatching in a few weeks.
“Weeks?” Sophie repeated, counting in her head. “I think Silveny was supposed to be pregnant for longer than that.”
“That won’t matter,” Tarina assured her. “I suspect they’ll progress faster in the hives. Especially with the coming eclipse.”
“What does the eclipse have to do with anything?” Councillor Terik wondered, beating Sophie to the question.
“Eclipses trigger hatchings,” Tarina said, as if that were self-explanatory. “Though I suppose it’s possible the effect won’t be the same for another species. But you’ll want to prepare for it just in case. The morning after the eclipse, you’ll likely have two healthy alicorn babies on your hands.”
• • •
Silveny and Greyfell were awake by the time Sophie leaped back to Havenfield with Sandor, Bo, and Tarina. And even though the recovering mama was too weak to stand up, she still managed to blast Sophie’s brain with an abundance of loud transmissions.
SOPHIE! HI! BABY OKAY? BABY OKAY? VISIT! VISIT! VISIT!
I’ll take you to see them as soon as you’re strong enough, Sophie promised. But you know you’re not up for that yet. They’re doing great, though.
She shared her memories of the floating babies, and Silveny’s mind clung to the images of their tiny sleeping faces. But the longer Silveny looked, the more Sophie’s head felt like it might burst from the love and happiness and worry and sadness and loneliness and relief that was swelling inside her.
I know you miss them, she said gently.
MISS! MISS! MISS!
With each repetition, Silveny’s sorrow seemed to deepen.
Hey, it’s okay, Sophie promised. You’ll see them soon.
And even though she didn’t want to get Silveny’s hopes up too high, she told her what Tarina had said about the eclipse. But Silveny didn’t seem as excited as she’d expected her to be.
WEEKS? WEEKS? WEEKS?
I guess that probably sounds like a really long time to you, huh? Sophie realized. But it’s less than it would’ve been if you carried all the way to your due date. And I’m sure it’ll go faster than you’re thinking.
Silveny and Greyfell shared a look. Then they both hung their heads.
Aw, none of that, Sophie told them, trying to think of a way to cheer them up.
Flying wasn’t possible until Silveny was stronger. And the swizzlespice she brought over barely got a reaction.
Come on, there must be something that would make you happy, Sophie insisted.
Which of course brought on a lot of VISIT BABY! VISIT BABY! even though Silveny seemed to realize she couldn’t handle teleporting yet. And the overwrought mama’s mood seemed to spiral ever downward.
And then Sophie had an idea. What about—
KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE! Silveny transmitted, with a blast of joy so strong it nearly knocked Sophie over. And Sophie assumed Silveny must’ve seen what she’d been thinking before she’d had a chance to finish saying it.
Until Keefe said right behind her, “I hear I missed all the excitement.”
“You’re here?” Sophie asked, spinning around and catching a quick glimpse of the epic Bo-Ro glarefest going on before shifting her focus to Keefe. “Does that mean you lost the bet?”
“It does! And I’m sure I’m going to regret all of my life choices when Ro figures out her dare, but . . . sometimes you win, and . . .” He shrugged, adding a smirk that felt a little forced. “I mean, the thing is—if you and Fitz are visiting troll-baby hives without me, I am definitely losing at life, you know? Plus, I knew Silveny was here, so of course she was going to be craving some quality Keefe time, isn’t that right, Glitter Butt?”
KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!
“See? She needs me. Can I go into the enclosure?”
“As long as Silveny doesn’t mind,” Sophie agreed.
A fresh round of KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE! made it clear Silveny was a big fan of that idea.
Sophie followed Keefe through the gate, stopping to stroke Greyfell’s neck as Keefe crouched near Silveny and trailed his fingers gently down her velvet-soft nose. “Hey there, pretty mama,” he said as she nuzzled his hand. “Should I call you Mama Glitter Butt now?”
Mama Glitter Butt! Mama Glitter Butt!
But the sadness had crept back into Silveny’s thoughts.
Keefe scooted closer, holding her face with both hands as he looked into her eyes. “Don’t be sad. Nothing bad is going to happen to those babies—not on Foster’s watch. So you just rest up, okay? It’ll all be better soon.”
Soon! Soon!
Soon! Silveny said with even less enthusiasm.
“Hmm. Feels like my brilliant pep talk isn’t doing its job—so how about we play Name That Baby Alicorn? Otherwise I’m going to call them Sparkle Tushie Number One and Number Two. Actually, I’m probably going to call them that anyway—but I might occasionally go with something more official, as long as Mama and Papa pick something that pleases me.”
Silveny didn’t seem to understand anything he was saying, so Sophie did her best to explain telepathically.
Name baby? Name baby? Silveny asked, glancing at Greyfell.
“I don’t think they’ve picked anything yet,” Sophie told Keefe.
He clapped his hands. “Perfect! It’s a girl and a boy, right? So how about Keeferina and the Keefster?”
“Keeferina?” Sophie had to ask.
Even Silveny looked like she was wincing.
“Or Keefette. Or Keefelle. Or Keefiana. Honestly, I thought you’d fight me harder on the Keefster.”
“How about nothing with Keefe?” Sophie suggested.
“See, but there really is no better name, is there?” He glanced at Silveny, who definitely did not chant any Keefes. “Fine. Your loss. How about an homage to the Mysterious Miss F instead? We could have a little Sophie and a little Foster—though now that I’m saying that out loud, I’m realizing how confusing that would get. What’s your middle name, again? Something with an E?”
“Elizabeth,” Sophie confirmed. “What’s yours?”
“It’s ‘Nope’—as in nope, we’re so not going there.”
“Why not?” Ro asked, momentarily breaking the Bo-Ro glarefest.
“Because I have enough humiliation in my immediate future, thanks to you,” he told her.
“Yeah, I think you’re going to have to tell me now,” Sophie insisted.
“See, but I’m too busy naming alicorn babies. They’re silver, right? So how about Sterling and Argent?”
“Argent?” Sophie repeated.
“Yeah, wow, I’m pretty bad at this. You might want to help, or I’m going back to Keeferina.”
Sophie pictured the babies’ tiny faces. “What about Luna for the girl? It means ‘moon,’ and she kinda looked like she was dipped in moonlight.”
Flashback (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 7) Page 49
