Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities #8) - Shannon Messenger Page 0,29

wince underneath.

No matter how much he hated or feared his mom, some tiny, reluctant part of him was always going to care about her a little.

“Anyway,” he added, clearing his throat, “I guess that means we agree. I have all the protection I need.”

“Um, that’s not what we said,” Sophie argued. “I—”

“I appreciate the crinkly forehead concern,” Keefe interrupted. “More than you know.”

“Way more than you know,” Ro emphasized.

Keefe’s jaw tightened. “But you’re not going to change my mind on this, Foster. If something goes down in Loamnore like Forkle’s predicting, I will be there with you guys. Just like I’ll be there for anything else that happens—so let’s not make this into a fight, okay?”

“Kee—”

“Nope! No more ‘Keefe-ing’ me. I get that you’re worried, but… think about what you’re asking. You want me to hide like some frightened sasquatch while everyone I care about keeps right on risking their lives. How am I supposed to live with myself if something bad goes down and I wasn’t there to help?”

“And how are any of us supposed to live with ourselves if something happens to you?” Sophie countered.

“Easy. You’ll say, ‘Wow, that’s the hottest Wanderling I’ve ever seen! Who knew a tree could have awesome hair?’ And then you’ll all sit under my stunning leaves and write poems about my general amazingness.”

Sophie shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re trying to joke about this.”

“Well, believe it, Miss F. I can joke about anything!” He nudged her with his elbow, but she refused to smile. And she hated her brain for suddenly picturing his Wanderling. But she could see it so clearly now. The tree would have yellow spiky leaves and ice blue flowers and pale bark—and it would be lopsided somehow, mirroring his crooked smirk.

“The thought of you dying will never be funny,” she whispered, wishing her eyes weren’t burning.

Keefe sighed and scooted closer, keeping only a sliver of space separating them. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d really prefer to keep living.”

“Then stay away from the Neverseen!”

“See, I knew you were going to say that. And I swear I’ll be careful, but—”

“No! There’s no ‘but,’ Keefe! You can’t ignore vital intel just because you don’t like what it means.”

“Is that so? Then tell me this: If Bangs Boy’s warning had been about you, would you be like, ‘Cool, guys, I’ll be over here chilling at home while you go take on the Neverseen without me’?”

“Yes,” Sandor told him.

“No,” Sophie corrected. “But that’s different.”

“Why?” Keefe pressed. “And don’t say because you’re the moonlark—”

“But I am the moonlark! I was literally designed to be a part of everything that’s happening.”

“Yeah, well, so was I. I mean, no one gave me a cool code name, or a million fancy abilities—which is a serious bummer, by the way—but we both know my mom’s been preparing me for my legacy my entire life.”

“All that means is she’s been preparing you to be on her side—not ours.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sophie wished she could suck them back in. “Sorry.”

Keefe picked up his silver notebook, slapping the side against his palm with a steady thwap! thwap! thwap! “No need to apologize. You’re right. I am supposed to be part of the bad guys.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Relax, Foster. I’m not going to freak out on you. I’m aware of my situation—the question is, are you?” He thwapped the notebook harder. “I can swear fealty to anyone I want. Be friends with anyone I want. Fight on any side I want. That’s my choice, no matter what my mom wants—and I say, ‘Go, Team Good-Guys!’ But. I don’t get to stop being the dude who was raised by one of the leaders of the Neverseen. And it doesn’t make whatever plans my mom has for me go away. Just like it doesn’t erase the things she’s already had me do—like delivering that letter. Who knows what other stuff I’ve done and don’t remember?” Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! “That’s why I can’t let Mommy Dearest scare me away. We’re always complaining that we don’t have any good leads. But I’m the lead. And I can’t help you guys if I’m hiding.”

“Nobody said anything about hiding,” Sophie argued.

“No, you just talked about locking me up.”

“That was Tam,” Sophie corrected. “And I’m pretty sure he was joking. Or using hyperbole.”

“But I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea,” Sandor noted.

“Neither would I,” Ro agreed.

“All I’m saying,” Sophie said, snatching the silver notebook from Keefe’s hands, “is that you don’t