Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities #8) - Shannon Messenger Page 0,194

very red. He cleared his throat. “Does that mean I get my present?”

“I suppose,” Sophie said, tempted to tease him more first, since he was so clearly thrown off his game. But she flipped open the satchel and pulled out the crinkly yellow-and-brown package, setting it proudly in his lap.

“You… got me E.L. Fudges?” Keefe asked, doing an adorable double take between her and the cookies.

Sophie nodded proudly. “Well, technically my sister stole them from my parents’ pantry so I wouldn’t have to deal with converting lusters to dollars and finding a grocery store and whatnot. It was hard enough convincing Grady and Edaline to let me teleport to see Amy without all of that. So a couple of cookies are missing, but Amy said they opened the package last night and they’re still fresh. Besides, we all know what you really care about is—”

“The fact that they’re shaped like tiny elves!” Keefe said, clapping his hands before he pointed to the label. “Hang on—they call them ‘elfwiches’?”

“They do, Keefe. They do. And that’s not even the best part.”

“AHHHHHH LOOK AT THEIR LITTLE FACES!” Keefe shouted as he peeled back the plastic cover. “THIS IS THE GREATEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN—EVER!”

“Greater than when you discovered Fitz slept with Mr. Snuggles?” Sophie had to ask.

“Um. Yeah. They have names, Foster. NAMES!” He held up one of the cookies and pointed to the name tag the little elf was holding. “This one’s Ernie! AHHH AND THIS ONE IS FAST EDDIE!” he said, snatching a different cookie. “And this one is Buckets! And Elwood! I don’t know who named these guys, but whoever they are, they’re a genius, I tell you—a GENIUS. Also, I think Elwood kind of looks like me, doesn’t he?”

He held the cookie up to his face and raised his other hand in a wave, just like Elwood’s pose, and Sophie couldn’t hold back her giggle.

“He has your smirk,” she agreed.

“Yup, he’s a good-looking elf-y cookie. And wait—there’s writing on the back.” He flipped the cookie over. “What does ‘from the Hollow Tree’ mean?”

“That’s where the Keebler elves make their cookies.”

Keefe snorted. “Of course they do—why didn’t I think of that? Humans are my favorite. Though, this one says ‘uncommonly good,’ and this one says ‘uncommonly made’—so it sorta seems like the dude deciding this stuff was running out of words, doesn’t it? But whatever, he gave us Fast Eddie, so I’ll forgive him. And wait, why does this one say ‘dunk head first’?”

“The cookies taste best dunked in milk, so they’re saying to dunk the head first before you eat it.”

He blinked, turning the cookie back over to stare at the little elf. “Woooooooow, that got DARK. Poor Buckets. I didn’t really think about how weird it was going to be, eating food with a little face on it staring at me—especially a little elf-y face. Look at his little ears! And his little hat! Humans are cruel. But here we go.… Sorry, Buckets, dude—know your sacrifice was for a noble cause.” He raised the cookie to his mouth and flipped it at the last second, biting off the feet instead of the head. “I don’t know why that seemed less brutal, since he totally has no legs now. But it made sense in the moment—and more important… eh.”

“Eh?” Sophie asked.

“I mean—don’t get me wrong. It’s way better than those biscuit things you brought me last time. But it’s still kinda dry and boring.”

Sophie had to agree. And yet she still helped herself to a cookie, each bite tasting like childhood.

“Thank you, by the way,” he said, tucking the extra cookies he’d pulled out carefully back into the container. “This was really amazing, Foster. No, I mean it—don’t try to shrug it off. This… is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me—by a lot.”

“Well… I think that’s mostly because your parents have set the bar really low.”

“They have,” Keefe agreed, and as his smile faded, Sophie wished she could take the words back.

But she’d gotten the E.L. Fudges for him because she knew he was going to need them.

“I’m done freaking out,” he told her, clearly picking up on her worries. “I mean… the next time I see Bangs Boy, I’m going to kick him somewhere extra sensitive. But until then… there’s nothing I can do, right? My mom’s still out there, still planning my great ‘legacy’—which apparently includes murdering a guy and his ten-year-old daughter—”

“You don’t know that,” Sophie interrupted. “That easily could’ve been another one