Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities #8) - Shannon Messenger Page 0,247

the changes always work on two levels: what happened and how we respond. So, yes, this… is going to change Keefe—just like it’s going to change you and me and everyone else who cares about our favorite Lord Hunkyhair. But… that’s just what happened. We all still get to decide how we’ll respond. And if I know Keefe, he’ll find a way to become even more awesome. Trust me, Sophie. Nothing will ever stop Keefe Sencen from being Keefe Sencen. Think of how many things have already tried.”

And that… was probably the best point he’d made.

Keefe had survived huge betrayals and years of mind games and abuse.

And he’d still sounded like him before his mind went quiet.

Just tired.

Which made her wonder. “Do you think we should give him a sedative?”

Elwin clutched his chest, then spun her toward him and flashed an orb of orange light around her head. “Okay, who are you, and what did you do with the sedative-hating Sophie Foster?”

“I wasn’t saying for me,” Sophie reminded him. “I just know Keefe really wanted to sleep when it was all over. And that doesn’t look like sleep.”

“It is and it isn’t. It’s a kind of restful wakefulness—and yes, I realize those seem like opposite things. But that’s the only way I can think to describe it. And since I know so little about what’s happening to him, I’m a little reluctant to mess with it. I think it’s better to keep a very close eye on him and let this run its course.”

“Wait—you’re not giving him any medicine?” Sophie asked. “Not even a painkiller?”

“I’m not sensing any pain. And like I said, I don’t want to interfere.”

Sophie slumped out of his grasp, curling into a ball again. “So… I brought him here for nothing.”

Elwin snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

“Sorry. It’s just… I left everybody in Loamnore because I thought I was helping Keefe—”

“You did help Keefe.”

“Yeah, but… not enough to make up for leaving my friends to face an army of angry dwarves without me—not that I was much help, honestly. Or any help.” She shook her head, resisting the urge to punch her pillow—that was never as satisfying as she wanted it to be. “I don’t get it. Sometimes I’m so powerful—like in London, when I inflicted. Or when I was running here, and I figured out this new way to teleport—”

“You did?” Elwin interrupted.

She shrugged. “I think that’s what happened. I’ll have to test it later—but, so… How come I can do that—and then other times be basically useless? My plans fail—or are ‘predictable,’ apparently. Or I get overpowered by dwarves. Or I get sidetracked by the wrong things, or—”

“Okay, I’m sensing that you could keep this Sophie-bashing going for quite a while, so I think it’s best to stop you right there. And first: I have to say, I love that in the same conversation, you can tell me you figured out a new way to teleport without really even trying and then beat yourself up for not being powerful enough. Sounds like someone’s expectations for themselves might be a little too high.”

“But… I’m the moonlark!”

“You know what, Sophie? I’m going to tell you something I don’t think people tell you enough, even if it means I’m going to have to be smart and pep-talky again. You are the moonlark. But you’re also Sophie Foster. A real person with real flaws and real limitations—and that’s not a bad thing! Honestly, if you got everything right all the time, you’d probably be kind of annoying.” He grinned when her eyebrows shot up. “You know it’s true. No one likes a show-off. And you know what else you’d be if you did everything perfectly all the time? Boring. And you know that’s true too. Just look at the friends you’ve chosen. Are any of them perfect?”

She wanted to say that Fitz seemed pretty close sometimes.

But she wasn’t sure if they were still friends.

That moment when she was leaving… the things he’d said…

She wasn’t sure that was really enough to fix them.

And she couldn’t decide how she felt about that.

She also didn’t understand why things between them always had to be so fragile.

And she definitely couldn’t believe she was obsessing about this when Fitz was probably still down in Loamnore fighting traitor dwarves.

She really didn’t have the energy for an endless conversation with all of the gruesome play-by-play. But she had to know one thing.

Are you safe?

She transmitted the words over and over, wondering if they’d even reach him. She didn’t