Keeper Of The Lost Cities Legacy Quotes

And keep in mind,' Oralie added, finally turning her azure eyes toward Sophie, ' true trust does not require absolute transparency. There is incredible power in accepting that there are some things you cannot know--and being willing to maintain your commitment to that person despite the secrets.

There’s never a good time to almost die.

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.

And it was hilarious,” Ro added. “One night he got out of bed and started doing a wiggle dance in his sleep and singing about Prattles pins. And another time he decided he was a baby alicorn and dropped to his hands and knees and galloped all over the house, whinnying. Greatest thing I’ve ever seen.

How could I lose that much time?” “It’s called almost dying,” Edaline said gently. “Actually, it’s called ‘Fostering’ now,” Keefe corrected

Ro blinked. “Wow! Okay—I officially take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about your Councillors! They’re my heroes! All hail the sparkle-fied twelve for breaking up the Great Fitzphie!

Having a family crest meant a lot to a girl who'd been adopted.

She was officially starting to hate everybody. And herself. And the world.

Maybe this was what growing up meant--tackling the huge challenges, whether you were ready for them or not. And trusting that you'd figure out a way to get through it.

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 'ELF WITCHES'?" "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! AHHHH AND THIS ONE IS FAST EDDIE!" he said, snatching a different cookie. "And this one is Bickets! And Elwood! I don't know who named these guys, but whoever they are, they're a genius, I tell you--a GENIUS. - Legacy, chapter 37, page 596-97 hardcover.

Sophie ignored the insult—but might’ve allowed herself half a smile when Ro coughed something that sounded like “awfully smug for a tiny hairless dude” from wherever the ogre princess had tucked herself away in the shadows.

I swear, watching boys try to communicate is like watching amoebas,” Ro told Sophie during the long silence that followed. “You just stare at their blobby little bodies and think, ‘How do these things even function?

Mr. Happy Shadow Thoughts.

She leaned over, pulling Keefe into the tightest hug possible, and whispered, “Thank you.

Bronte! The-Dude-Who’s-Tried-to-Have-You-Exiled-Almost-as-Many-Times-as-Dame-Alina-Has-Tried-to-Have-Me-Expelled,

Foster?” he asked, jolting upright—which only drew more attention to the fact that he was currently shirtless. He crossed his arms, his cheeks flushing with a hint of pink when his ice blue eyes focused on her. “I… um… what are you doing here?” Ro snickered from the corner, where she lounged on a cushioned chaise, painting her claws the same purple she must have recently dyed the ends of her choppy pink pigtails. “Smooth, Lord Hunkyhair. Smooooooooooooooooooth

Is it, now?” Ro patted the chaise next to her. “Well then, why don’t you sit right here and tell Auntie Ro all about it?” “Auntie Ro?” Sophie, Sandor, and Keefe all asked in unison. Ro shrugged. “What? I can be nurturing when I want to be.” That would’ve been a lot easier to believe if she weren’t using a dagger to clean beneath her claws.

Keefe gave her another reassuring shoulder pat—but when she flung the pillow aside and buried her face in her hands, she heard him growl something that sounded like “screw it.” Then his arms wrapped around her and she sank into the hug, not realizing she was crying until she felt her tears soak into his tunic.

Dude, you have to stop calling it that,” Dex told him. “How about Team T. Rex?” “Or Team Alicorn?” Biana added. “If we go that route, why don’t we just call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix?” Sophie couldn’t resist suggesting—but of course no one appreciated her reference. “Never mind.

Then again, she also wasn’t sure how having Councillors who were a Vociferator, a Conjurer, and an Empath was going to do her group a whole lot of good—and she really wished she could think of an unsuspicious way to trade Councillor Lyingcurls to the other group.

Okay. What if we went with something cool and space-y, like… Team Nebula?” “You realize that would technically make us Team Swirling-Cloud-of-Gas, right?” Biana asked, earning a choked laugh from Grady.

There's never a good time to almost die.

SO, QUESTION,” DEX SAID, BREAKING the uncomfortable silence. “Can we get a cooler name? Because ‘Team Prodigious’ is an epic fail.

Smooth, Lord Hunkyhair. Smooooooooooooooooooth.

Aw, come on, Gigantor!” Keefe whined. “We’re talking about elf-shaped cookies! I need this in my life!” “So do I!” Ro added. “Do you have any idea how much fun I would have smashing them?

Back to nag me already? You seriously need to get yourself a hobby. I hear spelunking’s fun. Oooh, or you could try swimming with the krakens! I doubt they’d eat you—but maybe we’ll get lucky!

I’d still be thinking I was being chased by kelpies and unicorns. There might’ve been a talking murcat, too, and maybe a flock of boobries? I don’t know—it was super weird and really overwhelming.

The question is”—his eyes locked with hers—“when are you taking me to go get some of these magical E.L. Fudge thingies? Because they’re officially a need, Foster. I neeeeeeeeeeeed tiny elf-shaped cookies in my life. I can’t believe you’ve never brought me any before! In fact, I kinda feel like that’s a betrayal of our friendship!” The question was so unexpected that Sophie couldn’t stop the loud snort-laugh from bursting out, which of course was followed by a fit of embarrassed giggles. “You’re not laughing your way out of this one either, Miss F!” Keefe warned her. “I expect another cookie delivery ASAP

That’s between us and Team Prodigious,” Councillor Emery said, glancing at Dex and reluctantly adding, “or Team Whatever-They-Decide-to-Call-Themselves.

Maybe you did important stuff,” Dex told her. “But I heard Stina put out some blankets or something? Good job! No one else could’ve done that.

Eh, let’s drink this stuff that’ll almost kill us and see what happens to our baby!’ And then it didn’t work, so she was like… ‘I know! Let’s make a Shade do some stupid trick when my son’s already way past manifesting age and see if that fixes it!’ And then her Shade died, so she was like, ‘No worries, I’ll kidnap this surly guy with ugly bangs and make him take over!

It's a tremendous responsibility. One that every young generation must learn to carry. Adults may have wisdom and experience. But our youth are bold and brave and willing to fight for what they believe in with a formidable kind of energy.

I tried to warn you." "I know," Keefe told him. "And I tried to listen." "I know," Tam said quietly. "And ... here we are." "I'm pretty sure that was inevitable," Keefe agreed. "So I want you to know three things, okay? The truest things you'll ever hear." He waited for Tam to nod before he told him, "Number one: I still don't like you."Tam's lips twitched at that, but he stayed silent as Keefe added, "Number two: I will always make fun of your bangs." That earned Keefe an actual smile.

Oh, I know you,” Sophie said through a sigh. “I’ll just never stop hoping you’ll decide to play things smart for once.” “See, but ‘smart’ really isn’t my brand. I’m more ‘reckless dream guy without a care’! It’s part of my whole ‘bad boy’ image.” He tossed his hair.

You changed Iggy’s color?” she asked, heading over to his cage, where, sure enough, the tiny imp had yet another new look. His neatly trimmed, gold, sparkly fur was now a much poofier ice blue with tiny crimps. “Huh, I figured he’d be pink and purple,” Sophie admitted, pointing to Ro’s colorful pigtails. Ro tossed her head, swishing her hair in the process. “Uh, no, I’m not sharing my fabulous style with anyone—much less a creature who spent the last hour eating his own toenails. But I thought it was only right to save your imp from being sparkle-fied—and I was going to be nice and turn him your favorite color. But apparently your favorite color is teal—and yeah, yeah, we all know why. But, um, do you realize how many of the nastiest little microbes are in that color?" She shuddered. "I couldn't do that to you—or the little dude. So I went with a nice ice blue. The kind of color you can't help but love. Classic. Reliable—

[I’M NOT YOUR LEGACY-BOY] Sencen NOTE: Despite numerous attempts—and lots of enhancements to registry security—the information in this file remains hopelessly altered, presumably by Keefe Sencen, who was likely given access by Dex Dizznee. Until we can figure out how they did it, we can’t seem to fix it.

Don’t feel bad, Fitzy—you’re not the only one who didn’t make the cut,” Keefe told him. “In fact, I’m kinda thinking you, me, and Linh should start our own team—Team We’re-Having-More-Fun-Than-You-Are! Instead of crowns, we can wear tunics that say ‘You Wish You Were This Hot.’ And all of our mascots will be gulons. You with me?

You changed Iggy’s color?” she asked, heading over to his cage, where, sure enough, the tiny imp had yet another new look. His neatly trimmed, gold, sparkly fur was now a much poofier ice blue with tiny crimps. “Huh, I figured he’d be pink and purple,” Sophie admitted, pointing to Ro’s colorful pigtails. Ro tossed her head, swishing her hair in the process. “Uh, no, I’m not sharing my fabulous style with anyone—much less a creature who spent the last hour eating his own toenails.

I also agree with Mr. Sencen—and you know how much it pains me to say that.

We will,” Grady agreed. “Though I gotta say, I hear staying single can be amazing.” He yanked his hand free before Edaline could pinch him again.

Hey, don’t dis the Dexinator!” Keefe told her. “He’s my hero. Master elixir maker, ultimate gadget manipulator, and he scored a Foster kiss before Fitzy.

Great. So… basically, you’re asking me to trust you with my life—again—while also admitting that you don’t actually know what you’re doing,” Sophie had to point out. “Awesome.

Keefe reached toward her, and for a second she wondered if he was going to take her hand—but he grabbed the Jammie Dodgers instead.

Ro peeked over Keefe’s shoulder. “Wow. Leave it to Mommy Dearest to make Lord Jerkypants seem like the good parent.

Said the guy who still won’t tell me who my biological parents are,” Sophie felt the need to point out. “Ohhhhhh, she has you there!” Livvy added.

Sandor had been complaining vigorously about the restrictions—right up until he saw the mire of steaming mud they all had to sink through. Then he’d become much more cooperative.

That’s our girl,” Keefe said quietly as Sophie snatched the green pill and gulped it down before she could change her mind. “Knew she was going to Foster it.

It’s like an Imparter saying, ‘Hey, I’m sick of you telling me who to hail all the time—I’m not going to do it anymore until you tell me why you made me a square!’ ” “Uh, but you’re not an Imparter, Foster—though I appreciate the little voice you just did there to really sell the character,” Keefe teased.

No offense to the Black Swan. The name they chose for you is not without its significance. But we think it’s high time for people to see you as more than an experiment. More than a survivor. More than a girl left to fend for herself in a world where she didn’t truly belong. You’re a leader now, Miss Foster. Not a defenseless little bird. And you’re part of a team, not struggling alone. So we wanted you to show our world—and your enemies—that you rule your pack, and have the claws and teeth to take anyone on.

You told That Boy about this?” Grady interrupted. “He didn’t make you feel embarrassed, did he? Or pressure you to—” “Actually, he told me no one would care about the unmatchable thing,” Sophie corrected. “Well, not anyone who mattered, at least.” Edaline’s smile practically glowed. “That was very sweet of him—not that I’m surprised.” Grady snorted. “And he’s absolutely right,” Edaline added, elbowing Grady in the ribs.

She tried to distract herself by staring into Bullhorn’s beady purple eyes, silently begging him not to freak everyone out as much as he had the last time. “I’m going to be fine,” she whispered to him. Bullhorn snorted.

Hmm, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should drag you off to a cave, then. Oh! Or to my dad’s palace! No one’s breached the security there in centuries.” “Sounds fun,” Keefe retorted. “I can teach King Daddy The Ballad of Bo and Ro!

Are Dex, Biana, Stina, and Wylie getting makeovers too?” Sophie asked, hoping Dex would show up with his hair dyed black and styled all shaggy—because Emo Dex would be hilarious—and that Stina would end up with giant hair-sprayed bangs.

And hey,” Grady added, “if this makes you decide to put the whole dating thing on hold for a while, I can definitely get behind that—OW!” He pulled back from the hug, rubbing the tender part of his arm where Edaline must have pinched him.

Better?” Sophie asked Bronte as Dex received a thorough Stina-dunking and Biana scrambled over and tackled her. “Not quite what I’d imagined,” Bronte noted, dodging several splats of flying mud. “But I suppose the method was still effective.

In fact, I’m kinda thinking you, me, and Linh should start our own team—Team We’re-Having-More-Fun-Than-You-Are! Instead of crowns, we can wear tunics that say ‘You Wish You Were This Hot.’ And all of our mascots will be gulons. You with me?

Sandor and Bo both snorted “allowed” under their breath. Mr. Forkle smiled. “Oh, I assure you—if I didn’t want you in my office, I could cast you out before you could even draw your weapons. It’s my favorite security feature that Tinker designed.

So... I guess that leaves us nowhere then. And for one second, she held her breath, hoping she was wrong. But Fitz sighed and said, "I think it does." And his eyes were heartbreakingly sad as he held his home crystal up to the moonlight and slowly glittered away.

Wait,” Sophie had to interrupt. “Aren’t you always saying that abilities can’t be switched off once they’ve been triggered?” “For ordinary elves, yes,” Mr. Forkle agreed. Sophie groaned, knowing this was going to lead to another “let me explain how very weird you are” speech.

Remember Dad’s blue car? The one that was in the shop so much, he called it his Lemonmobile? That’s… me. Everyone loves to tease me about how often I end up in the Healing Center—and some of that is the Neverseen’s doing. But I swear the rest comes from the fact that I’m basically defective.

And then there was Biana—proof that some people were born for moments like these. Now that she had a circlet, Sophie already couldn’t imagine Biana without it. And the look in Biana’s eyes seemed to say, I’ve just made my own Vacker legacy, and I can’t wait to show you what I’m going to do with it.

The mud completes the ensemble,” Grady teased, winking at her from near the center of the swampy pool, where he stood shoulder-deep, waiting for everyone to catch up to him. “Or maybe I’ll lose the stupid circlet when I get sucked under,” Sophie muttered under her breath. That might make the slimy experience worth it.

Adults may have wisdom and experience. But our youth are bold and brave and willing to fight for what they believe in with a formidable kind of energy.

And hey,” Grady added, “if this makes you decide to put the whole dating thing on hold for a while, I can definitely get behind that—OW!

She wished she could’ve come up with a stronger way to wrap up her response, but...hope was really all they ever had. And Sophie refused to treat it like it wasn’t enough.

Pretty sure he’s pouting,” Ro told her. “I’m not pouting,” Keefe argued—in a tone that definitely sounded pouty.

Sophie couldn’t tell if he was teasing or moping. Maybe a little of both.

The line between hero and criminal was sometimes very gray.

Discussing boy troubles with her mom was about as fun as being dropped into a pile of sparkly alicorn poop.

Nope. I’m in a cave. All I’ve seen are rocks. What color are they? They’re rocks, Sophie.

NEED YOU TO KEEP KEEFE AWAY UNTIL THIS IS OVER. IF YOU CAN’T CONVINCE HIM TO COOPERATE, MAKE UP A FAKE PROJECT TO DISTRACT HIM. OR LOCK HIM UP SOMEWHERE IF YOU HAVE TO.

This is how we reach the place where we’ll make our oaths,” Councillor Emery corrected, because nothing with the elves could ever be quick or simple.

Of course I am—how many times do I have to tell you I’m a genius before you start believing me?

Sophie’s face burned even hotter as he flipped to the last page of the blue notebook and wrote, “PLAN Z: UNLEASH THE FITZPHIE!!!

There were no names on the list at all—but Keefe had put “Foster Mommy” on one side and “Foster Daddy” on the other.

Keefe looked away, tapping the notebook harder—tap tap tap tap tap—before he blurted out, “Fitz’ll get over it.” Ro sighed super loudly,

That… doesn’t bother you guys?” “It does if the search is going to cause more Elwin visits or Tribunals,” Grady told her.

So are you going to tell us where we’re going?” Keefe asked. “Or do you want us to guess? My money’s on Fitz’s room, since the amount of hair products in there is kind of a legacy.

THE THING IS…” SOPHIE KNEW she was about to sound like one of the boring, lecture-y adults she’d rolled her eyes at lots of times over the last few years.

Don’t worry, my love, a bunch of snooty intellectuals are totally going to put your name on a piece of paper and give us permission to date each other’?

Though I gotta say, I hear staying single can be amazing.” He yanked his hand free before Edaline could pinch him again.

Maybe this was what growing up meant—tackling the huge challenges, whether you were ready for them or not. And trusting that you’d figure out a way to get through it.

If we go that route, why don’t we just call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix?” Sophie couldn’t resist suggesting—but of course no one appreciated her reference. “Never mind.

Uh, do I really need to remind you that I’m an Empath?” he asked. “Or can I just pelt you with the rest of these Digestives? It’d be way better than having to eat them.

Soooooooo, what you’re saying is, you think I’m the king of bad decisions,” Keefe said, laughing when Sophie fumbled for an apology.

Team Don’t-You-Dare-Let-Them-Convince-You-to-Risk-Your-Life-Again.

It’s worse,” Sandor told her, with a glare at Mr. Forkle to make it clear he was still bitter about the way his objections had been silenced earlier.

Amy gasped. “Did that hurt?” “Of course,” Mr. Forkle told her, lowering his shirt back into place. “Definitely one of the top ten most painful things I’ve ever experienced.

Well,” he said, turning back to the window. “This is my own personal theory, so take it with a grain of salt—as humans love to say.

I mean, you came to the right place—this is definitely a judgment-free zone. But it miiiiiiiiiiight help if you tell me what the decision actually was. Just, you know, for clarity.

[I’M NOT YOUR LEGACY-BOY]

The words might as well have been a giant pair of scissors, snipping the threads of excitement that had been stitching Sophie’s newfound hope together.

We could play something like Two Truths and a Lie?” Sophie suggested—and then immediately un-suggested it once she saw how excited Ro was by that idea.

Awwwwwww—good one, Hunkyhair!” Ro called, ruining the moment—not that it was a moment or anything like that. “Way to recover!

Sandor made several squealy sounds that Sophie couldn’t wait to tease him about later.

What about Linh?” Wylie asked, and it took Sophie a second to realize he wasn’t suggesting that as a team name.

Uh, I don’t know if you realize this,” Dex told her, “but… you already boss us around all the time.” Biana grinned. “Exactly. Nothing new there!

Why is it so hard to remember what really matters?” she asked quietly, staring up at the stars. “Because it all matters,

You can keep an eye on Wynn and Luna,” Sophie told them. “Apparently they have super-poor taste in friends. So if they try to go near the gorgodon—stop them.

Linh ignored Wynn and Luna as they trotted up beside her—even when they made some seriously adorable squeaky whinnies.

Grady sighed and reached for Sophie’s hand—which didn’t feel that strange until Bronte grabbed her other hand.

I’m pretty sure all you’d have to do is show them that trick you guys do with the stomping-and-opening-up-huge-cracks-in-the-ground thing,

You’re Lady Foster. The Dire Wolf of Team Fancypants. And I gotta say, you look awfully cute in a crown.

Ro muttered something about foolish boys, which made it impossible to translate Fitz’s tone when he told Keefe, “Yeah.

More silence followed, and Sophie went back to imagining which piece of furniture would be the best to fling through a window for her teleporting escape.

Does that mean you’re not going to try to talk me out of this?” “We can if it’ll work,” Grady offered, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from Edaline.

Fitz gave me this big speech about how there’s no way he and I wouldn’t be on each other’s lists.” Ro snorted. “Wow. Is that what you elves call romance? ‘Don’t worry, my love, a bunch of snooty intellectuals are totally going to put your name on a piece of paper and give us permission to date each other’? Ugh, no wonder you haven’t felt ready for any smooching.

And Keefe is really going to cooperate?” Stina asked. “ ’Cause… that doesn’t sound like Keefe Sencen.…” “But you’ve met Ro, right?” Biana reminded her. “She’d totally drag Keefe off to Ravagog and lock him in a dungeon if she had to.” Stina shrugged. “Not saying she wouldn’t try. But I bet you anything Keefe will find a loophole.” Sandor and Bo snorted their agreement.

I can’t tell you that, either,” Mr. Forkle said, and Sophie mouthed his answer along with him, nailing the words and his inflection. “I can’t,” he added, when he noticed Sophie’s mimicry.

And Keefe had gilded all of his secret memories—which made Sophie very tempted to grab the gold journal and teleport away before he could catch her. Somehow she found the willpower to resist.

Come on, Captain Sulky,” Ro said, elbowing him harder. “There’s really nothing you want to say?” “Nope.” He scooted away before Ro could elbow him again, earning himself an epic ogre eye roll.

The design is meant to ensure that by the time we reach the main chambers, we’ve cleared our minds of everything except the reason we’re here,” Grady explained—which she was absolutely failing at.

Linh let her watery stars evaporate. “Being created doesn’t make it any less real. Look at Sophie.” Sophie definitely wasn’t sure what to do with that comparison—or Linh’s point about the gorgodon.

We left once,” Ro admitted, “but only because I made Hunkyhair shower and change—and you’re welcome, by the way. I swear the stench radiating off of him was making the flowers in your carpet wither.

His jaw locked with a furious click. “What has that boy done now?” “Nothing.” All of her bodyguards looked dubious—which was fair, considering the amount of chaos that Keefe had caused over the years.

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!

The rare river pearls were known for causing frenzied dreams and flashbacks. “I was careful,” he promised. “And it was hilarious,” Ro added. “One night he got out of bed and started doing a wiggle dance in his sleep and singing about Prattles pins. And another time he decided he was a baby alicorn and dropped to his hands and knees and galloped all over the house, whinnying. Greatest thing I’ve ever seen.

It’s a huge relief.” In fact, her head felt lighter than it had in days. Minus twenty pounds of worry. “Good,” Bronte told her, his familiar scowl returning. “Because this is the end of this conversation.

Try it,” Ro told him, keeping her focus on Fitz. “Ready for your question?” “I’m definitely not scared,” he countered. “We’ll see.” She batted her eyelashes—but her smile was anything but sweet as she asked,

I like stories,” Ro called after her. “Unless it involves a lot of speeches about how you elves get to boss everyone around because you think you’re so pretty and powerful and sparkly. Then we can skip that snorefest.

Should I assume this means you haven’t followed up with young Miss Vacker since she spoke with me?” Sophie managed a nod. Bronte shook his head. “Wonderful, so I’m going to have to endure this conversation a second time.

The last verse I heard Keefe working on had a lot of Bo-Ro snuggling,” Sophie added when Bo didn’t let go. “Pretty sure there was some kissing, too.” Bo muttered an impressive string of ogre curses as he released her arm.

You have two choices,” Sophie decided, placing her hands on her hips—even though most of her torso was under the mud, so the effect was somewhat muted. “You can wade in now on your own. Or I can have Sandor pick you up and toss you in.” “Everyone votes for option B, right?” Dex asked. The chorus of “yes” was definitely unanimous. “I hate all of you,” Stina informed them as Sandor stalked toward her with a smile that looked downright gleeful. “Fine. I’ll do it on my own—back off!” She moved to the edge of the mud again. And then she just stood there. “Ten seconds,” Sophie warned. “Then it’s Sandor dunk time! Ten… nine… eight…” Biana, Dex, and Wylie joined in the countdown as Stina made a noise that was part growl, part moaning whale. “Four… three…” Stina muttered a string of words that would’ve made Ro proud. Then she shuffled into the mud, trying to move slowly and carefully. But two steps in, she lost her footing and… SPLASH! “For the record,” Dex said as Stina burst back to the surface looking like a sludge beast and screaming like a banshee, “this might be the greatest moment of my life.

It was bad enough walking through the halls of Foxfire surrounded by all of her bodyguards. If people were dipping curtsies or bowing, she might as well ask Magnate Leto to set up a permanent spotlight to follow her around.

You look better,” Biana told Sophie the next morning, glancing at Stina. “Doesn’t she look better?” “Does she?” Stina asked, with her trademark brutal honesty. “I mean, she’s not so greasy anymore, but she’s still awfully pale.

Hey, I still thought of you!” Sophie argued,ignoring the obvious nudge he was giving the conversation. “That counts for something.” “It does indeed, Foster,” Keefe said quietly, fidgeting with another Digestive. “It does indeed.

Sophie nodded, knowing it probably didn’t help instill Bronte with a lot of confidence when she gathered up her blankets, pillows, and Ella and stumbled toward the house with the giant bundle, tripping over her feet several times.

You need water,” Keefe told her, grabbing a bottle of Youth off the floor and handing it to her. “I’ve had a few sips from this, but if I head to the kitchen for a fresh one, Lord Annoyingpants will be waiting there with questions.

So you never told us,” Ro said, filling the tense silence. “What team name did you go with? Team Awesomesauce?” “Dex campaigned pretty hard for that,” Sophie admitted. “And Biana tried for Team Sparkles a couple of different times.

Dex leaned in. “Um, I’m pretty sure it’s your call, since you’re the one in charge—unless you want us to choose for you. How about Lady Sophie the Reluctant?” “Very funny,” Sophie told him as Biana covered her mouth to muffle her giggle. “I kinda like Foster the Great,” Dex went on, oblivious to her annoyance—or perhaps because of it. “But I still feel like we could do better. Hmmm. Wait! I’ve got it!” He paused for a beat, dragging out the suspense before he leaned in and whispered, “The Fos-Boss.” “Ohhhhh, I like it!” Biana breathed. “I vote for that too,” Wylie added as he leaned in. “Then it’s settled,” Dex decided. “Unless you think Lady Fos-Boss is better.” “Yes!” Biana said, fighting to hold back another giggle. “That’s the winner.” Sophie gave them each her deadliest glare. “If you call me either of those things, I swear I’ll—” “And she thought she was going to have a hard time bossing us around,” Dex whispered to Biana and Wylie. “Looks like our fearless Lady Fos-Boss is a natural leader.” This time even Wylie had to muffle his laughter. “You guys are worse than Keefe,” Sophie grumbled, wondering if she could smother them with her frilly gown.

Like… choosing moments to bend the rules of telepathy—or break them. Or when to teleport to important places, even if they’re technically forbidden.” “So… things you already do—but now you wouldn’t get in trouble for them,” Grady teased,

That doesn’t change the fact that no one could go near Hunkyhair without coughing!” Ro called from the closet. Keefe gritted his teeth, and Sophie had to laugh—and then whimper as the pain punished her for daring to use her chest muscles.

Never mind. Whenever Foxfire’s back in session, I’m going to have to train with her every week, and I’m pretty sure the only way I’m going to be able to do that without dumping curdleroots on her head is if I don’t let you finish that sentence.

in their current conversation, which had started out as a long, brutal accounting of everything that had happened in Loamnore, followed by lots of panicked speculation, and had now somehow dissolved into another round of “How do we protect Sophie?

All the more reason we need to make Team We’re-Having-More-Fun-Than-You-Are! a thing. Come on, Fitzy—I’m sure Linh would be okay with you as our fearless leader. Then you can order everyone around and I can call you Lord Bossypants. It’s a win-win!

If you do, you’re going to be sorely, sorely disappointed—and covered in biscuit crumbs.” “Don’t worry, she came here to talk to you about it,” Ro jumped in. “The cookies were just her excuse. You gonna deny it?” she asked when Sophie turned to scowl at her.

Maybe we can say I want to make a case for joining Team Fancypants—” “Team Valiant,” Sophie corrected. He smirked. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m never gonna call it that. Just like I’m pretty sure you’re gonna have to get used to me calling you the Lovely Lady F.

I mean… if you’re looking for a particularly inspired visual re-creation of the Great Gulon Incident, then you’re about to be super excited. Otherwise, not so much. Oh, and if you flip the pages at just the right speed, you can watch the moment the gas erupts.

The threat might’ve sounded more ominous if she hadn’t lost her balance on her next step—and she would’ve face-planted into the mud if Wylie hadn’t lunged to grab her shoulders. The poor guy ended up sunken all the way to his chest as a reward for his heroics.

Sophie shrugged. “There’s never a good time to almost die.” “Okay, someone needs to get that embroidered on a tunic for our Mysterious Lady F immediately!” Keefe called out behind her, and when Sophie spun around, she found him striding up the path along with Ro.

If this is how I’m going to have to dress all the time, I’m definitely passing on the Regent appointment,” Sophie grumbled, trying to lift her dark blue gown as she walked—but there were so many tiers of tulle, she couldn’t find the right layer of fabric to grab.

Dex snorted. “You want Sophie, Fitz, and Keefe to do trust exercises together.” “I think it would be very enlightening,” Mr. Forkle agreed. “Oh, it’ll definitely be that,” Dex said with a particularly huge grin. “Can I, uh, be there when you do?” he asked Sophie.

YOU REALIZE I’M NEVER GOING to remember to call you guys lords and ladies, right?” Sophie whispered, trying to keep herself distracted as she, Dex, Biana, Stina, and Wylie followed a single-file line of all twelve Councillors down a very dark, very quiet hallway.

I suppose,” Sophie said slowly. “But what happened to the whole ‘no one will be asking anyone to put their life in serious danger’ promise you made earlier?” “I was about to remind him of the same thing,” Sandor growled. “I said serious danger,” Mr. Forkle argued.

That’s always the problem with you elves. You like to be so dignified and diplomatic. This is war! If you want to send a message to your enemies, you form Team Ruthless. Or Team Bloodbath—though I guess you also don’t put a bunch of scrawny kids in Team Bloodbath.

Don’t forget about all of the self-sabotage!” Ro added. “I can happily provide numerous examples.” She ducked when Keefe flung the package of Digestives at her. “That all you got, Cookie Boy?” Keefe rolled his eyes and turned back to Sophie. “Anyway… how can I help?

By determining how the Neverseen can use shadowflux—and shadows or darkness in general—to weaken the dwarves while bringing further scandal to the Council.” “Oh, is that all?” she asked, her heart crashing back to reality. “And here I thought you were going to be vague.

Yeah, well… that’s why you’re Lady Fos-Boss. He winked as he said it, and Sophie clung to the tease, letting it rein her emotions back until they were much less sappy. That’s NOT what you guys are going to call me, she told him. Wylie grinned. Keep telling yourself that.

Thank you,” she told him. “You saved me from being Lady Marshmallow Hands.” Dex grinned, flashing his dimples. “See, now I kinda want to take back the gadgets.” “Don’t even think about it,” Sophie warned. “Oh, I’m thinking about it, Lady Marshmallow Hands,” Dex countered.

Right, and you guys weren’t already looking at me like you’d rather work with a muskog,” Stina countered. Dex flashed his most wicked grin. “A muskog would smell better.” Grady coughed through another laugh—and Sandor’s shoulders shook like he was holding in a fit of goblin giggles.

Keefe gave her another reassuring shoulder pat—but when she flung the pillow aside and buried her face in her hands, she heard him growl something that sounded like “screw it.” Then his arms wrapped around her and she sank into the hug, not realizing she was crying until she felt her tears soak into his tunic.

It’s Miss Foster’s decision,” Mr. Forkle interrupted. Sophie snorted. “Right. Just like it was my decision the day you reset my abilities. I could either stay malfunctioning, or risk my life to fix everything—and bonus: It was the only way I’d be able to heal Prentice and Alden. That’s not much of a choice, is it?

That does not mean there’s a way for an elf to pass from one to another,” Nubiti insisted. Stina rolled her eyes. “Well, there should be. Seriously, this is the most ridiculous arrangement I’ve ever heard of!” “Hey, we make everyone slide down a giant whirlpool to get to Atlantis,” Biana reminded her, sounding surprisingly chipper for a girl who usually obsessed about her hair and makeup and was currently thigh-deep in poop-colored muck. “Fitz still talks about how freaked out Sophie was the first time she had to try it. He said he was about three seconds away from having to push her over the edge because she was frozen in place.

Shouldn’t you go with someone who isn’t a walking interspeciesial disaster?” “Sophie is far from a disaster,” Grady argued, placing a reassuring hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “Yeah, the only disaster I see here is you,” Dex told Stina. “And let me guess. You think you’d be a better leader?” Stina laughed. “You think I want that kind of responsibility? Uh, yeah, hard pass. Wylie’s the obvious choice. He’s older, with more training and experience, and—” “Not necessarily,” Wylie interrupted. “Sophie may be younger, but she’s lived through more than all of us combined.” “Since when is ‘not dying’ a qualification for leadership?” Stina countered.

Eventually Keefe shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. Forkle would’ve snuffed out your Fitz feelings a loooooooooong time ago if you had any Vacker-family connection—and yes, I’m sure he knew about your crush. You really weren’t that great at hiding it.” Sophie tried to glare, but she was pretty sure it mostly looked sulky.

He tapped another rhythm against the table, and the pins shifted, making new landmarks emerge among all the others: Gildingham, the goblins’ golden capital, which seemed to be tucked among the Andes Mountains—and probably inspired the human myths of El Dorado. Ravagog, the ogre stronghold on the Eventide River, which was apparently hidden in the lushest part of central Asia. Loamnore, a city Sophie assumed was the dwarven capital, since the enormous metropolis was under the Gobi desert rather than above it. And Marintrylla, an island near New Zealand that was probably the trollish capital and seemed to be an intricate network of caves and bridges.

It’s one of those Things That Only Happen to Foster,” Keefe jumped in as Sophie tried to calculate the odds of successfully flinging a piece of furniture through one of her bedroom windows, levitating to freedom, and teleporting to a new life—maybe with Silveny, Greyfell, and their twin babies in a nice, peaceful meadow somewhere.

Three bodyguards is fine,” Sophie told Sandor as he paced back and forth across Havenfield’s living room. “Right now it’s only two,” he reminded her. “I’m still figuring out other arrangements for Linh.” “Then two is fine,” Sophie insisted, glad to know that Linh still had Bo protecting her. “Honestly, sometimes one feels like too many.

Sophie shook her head. “Uh, to quote you, ‘There’s no way you’re investigating my past without me.’ ” He smirked. “Yeah, that argument’s going to work about as well for you as it did for me. And come on, Foster, do you really think you’re up for spending hours brainstorming bio-mommy-and-daddy names? You almost passed out after two minutes

Ro giggled. “The adorable obliviousness strikes again!” Keefe rolled his eyes and tugged on the hem of his tunic—which was still inside out, Sophie realized. “Fine. Now that you and Fitz are dating—” “We’re not,” she interrupted. “I know, I know—not officially. But come on, Foster. You guys are totally a ‘thing.’ Fitz told me the whole sappy story about his big confession. And yours.” He kicked one of his shoes across the room. “That’s ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back,” Ro added as Sophie’s cheeks reached nuclear levels of heat. “Though I did enjoy the part where you bailed on Pretty Boy right before all the smooching.” “I didn’t bail on him,” Sophie mumbled, refusing to look at anybody. “Silveny went into labor, and we had to go save her and the babies.” “Don’t you just hate when that happens?” Ro teased. “And that doesn’t explain why you and Swoony Boy still haven’t…” She puckered her lips and made horrifyingly loud kissy sounds. “Or have you?” They… hadn’t—but no way was Sophie answering that question.

Anyway, back to my brilliant facts—and moving on to number three! Once you confront Bronte—” “Hopefully in a super-dramatic way,” Ro cut in, making Sophie and Keefe both jump so hard that Sophie’s forehead crashed into Keefe’s chin. “Forgot you weren’t alone?” Ro asked, raising her eyebrows as Keefe pulled away from the hug. Sophie totally had.

I’ll always be their moonlark.” “And what exactly does that mean?” he asked. “Honestly? I have no idea,” Sophie admitted, holding her breath through the silence that followed the confession. And she cringed at the sharp sound King Enki finally made—until she realized it was a single barked laugh. “I think I could enjoy your company, Lady Foster,

What about this, then?” The metal surface rippled at his touch, stretching and splitting into a million thin wires that made it look like a giant version of one of those pin art toys Sophie used to play with as a kid. He tapped his fingers in a quick rhythm, and the pins shifted and sank, forming highs and lows and smooth, flat stretches. Sophie couldn’t figure out what she was seeing until he tapped a few additional beats and tiny pricks of light flared at the ends of each wire, bathing the scene in vibrant colors and marking everything with glowing labels. “It’s a map,” she murmured, making a slow circle around the table. And not just any map. A 3-D map of the Lost Cities. She’d never seen her world like that before, with everything spread out across the planet in relation to everything else. Eternalia, the elvin capital that had likely inspired the human myths of Shangri-la, was much closer to the Sanctuary than she’d realized, nestled into one of the valleys of the Himalayas—while the special animal preserve was hidden inside the hollowed-out mountains. Atlantis was deep under the Mediterranean Sea, just like the human legends described, and it looked like Mysterium was somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle. The Gateway to Exile was in the middle of the Sahara desert—though the prison itself was buried in the center of the earth. And Lumenaria… “Wait. Is Lumenaria one of the Channel Islands?” she asked, trying to compare what she was seeing against the maps she’d memorized in her human geography classes. “Yes and no. It’s technically part of the same archipelago. But we’ve kept that particular island hidden, so humans have no idea it exists—well, beyond the convoluted stories we’ve occasionally leaked to cause confusion.

And you can ease up on the worry there, Pretty Boy. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to your sweet girl.” “Uh, you’re still going to give her something she’s deathly allergic to, right?” Fitz asked. Livvy’s smile faded. “Okay, I guess what I should say is that I’m only going to let some temporary bad stuff happen to your sweet girl—and then I’m going to fix it all and make her a thousand times better. So you don’t have to worry, even though I get that you’re all going to. And while we’re being honest here, I’ll tell you what I just told the worrying-adult brigade inside: Moments of this definitely aren’t going to be pretty. So if you don’t want to see that, you might want to skedaddle.

[WAIT—IT WON’T LET ME REDACT THESE LITTLE SUBHEADING THINGS? THAT’S SUPER ANNOYING!] [FINE, I’LL JUST GIVE YOU MY SUMMARY.] [SO, WHOEVER WROTE THIS WAS ALL BLAH-BLAH-BLAH-STELLARLUNE-SOMETHING-SOMETHING-LEGACY. BUT SERIOUSLY, NO ONE WANTS TO READ ABOUT THE CREEPY STUFF MY MOM DID BEFORE SHE GOT PREGNANT WITH ME! (AND WE’RE ALL SUPER SICK OF HEARING ABOUT MY “LEGACY,” AMIRITE?) SO, LET’S JUST LEAVE IT AT THIS: MY MOM IS EVIL. SHE THINKS SHE’S WAY SMARTER THAN SHE IS. AND NOTHING SHE DID IS GOING TO AFFECT MY GENERAL AWESOMENESS, OKAY?] A PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORY: [WOW, HOW DID YOU COME UP WITH SUCH A CLEVER TITLE?!] [AND YEAH, I HAVE A PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORY. NOT SURE WHY ANYONE CARES. BUT IT DOES COME IN HANDY DURING MIDTERMS AND FINALS.] AHEAD OF THE GAME: [BASICALLY: I’M A GENIUS. I SKIPPED LEVEL ONE AT FOXFIRE. YES, YOU SHOULD BE IMPRESSED.] UNREASONABLY HIGH STANDARDS: [GOTTA ADMIT, I WAS TEMPTED TO LEAVE THIS ONE ALONE, SINCE WHOEVER WROTE IT ACTUALLY GOT THINGS PRETTY MUCH RIGHT. I GUESS EVEN THE COUNCIL KNOWS MY DAD’S A JERK WHO FREAKS OUT ALL THE TIME BECAUSE I’M NOT A LITTLE MINI-HIM. WHO KNEW?] A POWERFUL EMPATH: [UGH, THAT’S THE BEST YOU COULD DO FOR THIS SUBHEADING???] [HOW ABOUT “LORD OF THE FEELS”? OR “TRUST THE EMPATH”! OR “HE KNOWS WHAT YOU’RE FEELING—AND YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF”?] [OOO! I’VE GOT IT! “HE KNOWS FOSTER BETTER THAN YOU DO! BETTER THAN SHE EVEN KNOWS HERSELF!”] [THOUGH… KEEPING IT REAL? THE FOSTER OBLIVION CAN BE KINDA NOT COOL SOMETIMES.] THE HEART OF THE MATTER: [I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GUYS NAMED A SECTION OF MY FILE AFTER MY FATHER’S SUPER-BORING BOOK—AND THEN RAMBLED ON FOR TWO PAGES ABOUT HIS SUPER-BORING THEORY!!!!!] [YOU DON’T NEED TWO PAGES ON IT. YOU DON’T EVEN NEED TWO SENTENCES. HERE’S ALLLLLL YOU NEED TO KNOW—BESIDES THE FACT THAT HE’S TOTALLY NOT THE FIRST PERSON TO COME UP WITH THIS (JUST THE ONE WHO LOVES TO TAKE CREDIT): OUR HEADS AND OUR HEARTS SOMETIMES FEEL DIFFERENT EMOTIONS, AND WHAT’S IN OUR HEARTS IS PROBABLY STRONGER.] [THAT’S IT!] [WELL… OKAY… I GUESS HE ALSO GOES ON A BIT ABOUT HOW EMPATHS PROBABLY ONLY READ THE EMOTIONS FROM THE HEAD.] [AND THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT HEART EMOTIONS BEING PURER BECAUSE NO ONE CAN CONTROL THEM.] [BUT THAT’S IT.] [AND DON’T TELL LORD BORINGPANTS I READ HIS DUMB BOOK! I MOSTLY SKIMMED.] PRANKSTER AND TROUBLEMAKER: [100 PERCENT ACCURATE. ALSO, I’M LEAVING YOUR LITTLE ATTACHED DETENTION RECORD BECAUSE IT’S THE GREATEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE!!!!]

Oh sure.” Sophie couldn’t tell if the tightness in her chest was from tears she was holding back—or laughter. “Just another typical day in my life as the moonlark. It’s always an adventure—and apparently I’m not the only one here who knows what it’s like to be an experiment.” “You’re not,” Mr. Forkle agreed, absently rubbing his hip. And Sophie wanted to keep sulking—

All elves were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but there was something particularly handsome about Keefe Sencen—and the boy was well aware of it. Though he seemed a little off his game at the moment. His smug smirk was noticeably absent as he scrounged around his blankets, searching for something. “Here,” Ro said, tossing Keefe a wrinkled black tunic from the floor. “Bet you’re wishing it didn’t smell so much like sweaty boy in here, huh?” “It’s fine,” Sophie promised, even if the room could definitely use some airing out. A good cleaning would work wonders too. Everywhere she looked were piles of crumpled clothes and scattered shoes and stacks of papers and plates of half-eaten food. And all the thick curtains were drawn tight, leaving the space dim and stuffy. The room was clearly designed to be beautiful, with marble floors broken up by rugs woven to look like pristine sand, and seafoam walls inlaid with starfish and anemone shells. But under Keefe’s care, it was a disaster zone. Even the furniture had a strange randomness to the arrangement that made Sophie wonder if he’d moved it all just to bug his dad.

Smoooooooooooooth, Hunkyhair,” Ro told him. “Really, really smoooooooooth.” It sounded like Ro was inside of Sophie’s closet, but Sophie wasn’t propped up enough to be able to tell for certain—and if she was right, Sophie could only imagine what kinds of chaos the ogre princess might cause in there. She sorta hoped it included shredding some of her ridiculously frilly gowns.

Thanks to you and Ro—and Bangs Boy—it’s not like I have a very busy or exciting schedule these days. It’s either this, or sit at home while Dad of the Year complains about how I should be studying or honing my empathy instead of drawing—which does at least give me an excuse to doodle some very unflattering cartoons of him and hide them around the Shores of Solace for him to find.

WHOA, EDALINE WASN’T KIDDING about the whole ‘Lady Sophie’ thing,” Keefe murmured, making Sophie jump—and then reel on Sandor for not giving her a heads-up that she had people waiting for her in her bedroom. Sandor shrugged. Clearly he was still annoyed with her for leaving the planet without him—as if the edge of the earth’s atmosphere was somehow the perfect spot for a Neverseen ambush.

Sophie held extra still, wondering if there was any way to trick her mind into playing possum for her. Lapsing into a vegetative state for a few hours seemed like the only viable option at that point. Until another voice said, “Maybe we should let her rest a little longer,” and Sophie’s eyes popped open—as if her brain had decided, You can ignore the grumpy Councillor, but not the nice one.

And Edaline must’ve gotten sidetracked by all the hugging and crying and asking fifty thousand questions and forgotten to mention that there were a smirking boy and an ogre princess waiting upstairs. All Sophie knew was, she was going to yell at all of them later, because now she had to face a Keefe-and-Ro Inquisition while still wearing a crown. Sandor and Bo were wise enough to wait in the hall.

Sorry, was I supposed to bow?” “If you had, I would’ve flung a pillow at your head,” she told him with a grin he didn’t return. “And you can forget the Lady Sophie thing, too.” “Thank goodness,” Ro said, dropping her feet from where she’d had them propped on Sophie’s desk. “I never would’ve been able to pull that off with a straight face. And, uh, please tell me this isn’t your permanent new wardrobe.

You would’ve enjoyed all the horrible team name suggestions that Dex and Biana kept bugging the Council with, though,” Sophie shouted over the abundance of snorts and gurgles. If that was what Ro actually sounded like when she slept, poor Keefe probably had to sleep with a pillow over his head. “I thought Emery was going to exile them at one point.” “Okay, now I’m interested,” Ro informed her. “And let’s hope Team Fancypants was the winner. Because I can almost forgive you for wearing all of those sparkly accessories if that’s what you’re making your stuffy Councillors call you.” “Wait,” Keefe said, before Sophie could respond. “Dex and Biana were there?” Sophie nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. Which actually made it a little easier to tell him. “Yeah. And Wylie. And Stina. I guess the Council decided I’m way more successful when I have backup—and they’re not wrong. But I’m still trying not to be insulted that they built this whole team because I’m useless alone. Oh—and you’ll love this. They wanted to name us Team Prodigious.” “Wow,” Ro said. “You guys shut that down, right?” “First thing we did,” Sophie agreed, pulling on a blissfully boring gray tunic and wishing all clothes could be

Exactly,” Ro said. “For the record, I’m totally on Team Not-the-Daddy.” “You are?” Keefe asked. “Yup! I’ve seen the dude, remember? I mean, personally I think all of you elves are scrawny and weird-looking—but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tell which ones of you are technically ‘prettier’ by your elf-y standards. And Councillor Pointy Ears? Meh. No way his daughter could be our little blond hottie right here.

Her knock was wimpier than she meant it to be—so wimpy that there was a second where she wasn’t sure if Keefe had actually heard her. But then he called out, “Back to nag me already? You seriously need to get yourself a hobby. I hear spelunking’s fun. Oooh, or you could try swimming with the krakens! I doubt they’d eat you—but maybe we’ll get lucky!” Which wasn’t exactly a “come in.” But Sophie still grabbed the silver handle and turned it—realizing only as she was yanking the door open that she should’ve made sure Keefe was dressed before she barged in. Thankfully, he was. Mostly… He lay sprawled across a huge bed that rested on a pedestal made of lacy bleached coral, wearing fuzzy blue pajama bottoms covered in tiny black gremlins, with his head propped against a familiar green gulon stuffed animal. “Foster?” he asked, jolting upright—which only drew more attention to the fact that he was currently shirtless. He crossed his arms, his cheeks flushing with a hint of pink when his ice blue eyes focused on her. “I… um… what are you doing here?” Ro snickered from the corner, where she lounged on a cushioned chaise, painting her claws the same purple she must have recently dyed the ends of her choppy pink pigtails. “Smooth, Lord Hunkyhair. Smooooooooooooooooooth

And for the record, I will be there when you confront Councillor Bronte—and I don’t recommend resorting to dramatics.” “Aw, come on, Gigantor!” Ro whined. “How many times does a girl get a chance to stomp into a room and demand to know if someone’s her daddy? Bonus points if she can squeak out a few tears—and then follow it up with a face slap!” She let out a wistful sigh. “Should we also take bets on what the verdict’s going to be?

There’s the smile I’ve been waiting for! It’s about time, Foster! I wasn’t sure how many more biscuits I’d be able to stomach. I mean, these weren’t too bad”—he picked up the Jammie Dodgers from the stack of cookie packages piled between them—“but note to self: Next time Foster shows up out of the blue, clearly upset over something she’s been worrying about all day and yet refuses to talk about, stick with mallowmelt for the cheer-up process.

I just… I’m sick of everyone telling me to trust them when they clearly don’t trust me. And I’m really tired of no one caring about what I want when it comes to… pretty much anything. I mean, would it be so hard for someone to say, ‘Hey, Sophie, we get how rough this is for you and we want to do something to make your life a little easier’? Is that such an unreasonable dream? Especially since all I’ve been asking for is a tiny bit of personal information?

You’ll wait until we have our much-cooler new team name, though, right?” Dex clarified. “So you won’t have everyone making fun of Team Prodigious?” Councillor Emery’s sigh echoed down the hall. “Yes, I suppose that would make sense. You five need to figure that out as quickly as possible.” Which foolishly opened the door to a whole lot of team-name brainstorming between Dex and Biana. Sophie tuned them out somewhere between Team Hotness and Team Awesomesauce.

Foster?” he asked, jolting upright—which only drew more attention to the fact that he was currently shirtless. He crossed his arms, his cheeks flushing with a hint of pink when his ice blue eyes focused on her. “I… um… what are you doing here?” Ro snickered from the corner, where she lounged on a cushioned chaise, painting her claws the same purple she must have recently dyed the ends of her choppy pink pigtails. “Smooth, Lord Hunkyhair. Smooooooooooooooooooth.

The thought of kissing Fitz in front of Keefe was more than just awkward. It felt… wrong, somehow. “I am staying out of it,” Ro insisted. “It’s not like I’m dragging them to separate corners—though we all know I could. I just figured I should make sure that our sweet, innocent little Blondie noticed that her teal-eyed wonder boy left out that crucial detail, since I know it’s kinda hard to think when a cute boy is leaning in with his eyes all heavy-lidded and his lips all puckery. And I thought she might want a little further clarification before she got lost in all the ‘YIPPEE! HE’S KISSING ME’—but what do I know?” Fitz’s glare could’ve withered forests. “And I thought the fact that I was about to kiss her made it pretty clear how I feel.” “Does it, though?” Ro asked, tapping her chin with a painted claw. “I mean, I guess it could. Or it could mean you’re in the mood for some lip-on-lip action—and hey, no one’s judging you. Smooching rocks!

Either way, they didn’t know how I’d turn out when they signed me up for this,” she argued. “For all they knew, I could’ve ended up with two heads or three arms or something.” “Ohhhhhh, that would’ve been amazing!” Ro jumped in. “The Black Swan should totally make that happen someday!” “I’m pretty sure everyone involved with Project Moonlark trusted that Forkle knew what he was doing,” Keefe said, ignoring his bodyguard. “He’s supersmart when he’s not being all curmudgeon-y.

Wylie will get over it. I’ll make sure of it. He needs to understand that just because he wants to keep me safe, it doesn’t mean he gets to control my life. I’m not a little kid. I get to choose how I use my ability. And I choose to fight. So if he wants to protect me, he can fight beside me—or get out of my way. And if he doesn’t? I’ll knock him into a pile of mastodon poop and put a force field around him so he can spend some quality time with all that stink.” Sophie couldn’t decide if she was intimidated or impressed

I’m just saying, I’m pretty positive that you and Fitzy could solve this thing in five minutes if you went all Cognate—RAWR on Forkle’s memories. You’ve broken through his blocking before.” “Yeah, but I’m sure he has other defenses he’d start using once he figured out what we were trying to do.” “And that’s why you do it when he’s asleep.” Sophie frowned. “We don’t know where he lives—and even if we did, I’m sure he has all kinds of security and…” Her voice trailed off as Keefe exchanged a look with Ro that seemed to say, Isn’t our moonlark the cutest?

Okay, but what about the team name?” Dex asked. “You have to let us change it. Trust me, if you announce that you formed Team Prodigious, people are going to laugh.” “They really will,” Biana agreed. Councillor Emery’s sigh sounded like a muffled scream as it bounced around the room. “Fine. You may call yourselves whatever you’d like, on two conditions,” he told them, holding up a hand and counting off his fingers. “One: You must choose something respectable—something befitting the noble status the team will bear. And two: We must approve your selection.

I’m not feeling a whole lot of gratitude from you here for all the effort I went through to bring you back your biscuit shopping list—plus bonus treats,” she pointed out. “You mean having Dizznee pull some money from your birth fund and then hitting up a shop for a couple of minutes?” Keefe asked. “Yeah, Dex told me all about how not exhausting that was last night, when he checked in to tell me how things went for you two in London, while someone was off doing something with Mr. Forkle that was clearly both frustrating and intense—as most things with Forkle tend to be.

SOOOOOOOO… THESE ARE DISAPPOINTING.” Keefe took a second bite from a round Digestive biscuit and crinkled his nose. “Are they supposed to suck up all the spit in your mouth and turn it into a paste? Is that, like, something humans find delicious?” “Maybe you’re supposed to dunk them in milk?” Sophie suggested, trying not to spray crumbs as she struggled to swallow the bite she’d taken. They really did win the prize for Driest. Cookies. Ever. “Actually, I think you’re supposed to eat them with tea.” “You think?” Keefe asked, shaking his head and stuffing the rest of the Digestive into his mouth. “You’re failing me with your human knowledge, Foster.” “For the thousandth time, I grew up in the U.S., not the U.K.!” she reminded him. “We had Chips Ahoy! and Oreos and E.L. Fudges!” “Hm. Those do sound more fun than a Digestive,” Keefe conceded. “I’m sure you’d especially enjoy the E.L. Fudges,” Sophie told him. “They’re shaped like tiny elves.” Keefe dropped the package of Jaffa Cakes he’d been in the process of opening and scanned the beach in front of them. “Okay, where’s the nearest cliff? You need to teleport me somewhere to get some of those immediately.

Absolutely not!” Sandor bellowed as she made her way to the largest window and flipped the latch to open the glass. “You’re not jumping off of any towers today.” “I wasn’t planning on jumping.” The fourth floor probably wasn’t tall enough to give her the momentum she’d need to teleport, so she was going to have to levitate higher first. Usually she leaped off of one of the cliffs at the edge of the property, but this was closer and faster—or it would’ve been, if she didn’t have two gorilla-size bodyguards shoving their way in front of her and forming a wall of impenetrable muscle.

If you go,” Sophie jumped in before she had to suffer through another round of the ogres-versus-goblins debate, “I’m sure Keefe will make you listen to more of The Ballad of Bo and Ro.” Bo’s lips curled back, revealing his pointed teeth. His relationship with Keefe’s ogre-princess bodyguard was equal parts tumultuous and complicated, a fact that Keefe never missed an opportunity to torment the two of them about—generally in the form of an epic poem that kept getting mushier with each new stanza. And Sophie couldn’t blame Keefe for the teasing. Not only did Bo’s and Ro’s names rhyme, but it turned out that they were also secretly married,

Hang on!” Ro said, stomping over to join them by the windows. “Did you just say that Pretty Boy’s not a part of this?” Her mouth fell open when Sophie nodded. “But… aren’t you two, like, a package deal? Team Obnoxious-Telepaths?” “We usually are,” Sophie agreed, ignoring the “obnoxious” part of that nickname. “But the Council wants to separate us. They think I rely too much on my telepathy and am not taking full advantage of my other abilities. So they want me to work on stuff without Fitz and see if it helps me widen my focus.” Ro blinked. “Wow! Okay—I officially take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about your Councillors! They’re my heroes! All hail the sparkle-fied twelve for breaking up the Great Fitzphie!

You know those sedative things you hate so much?” he asked. “We’d slip one into the Forklenator’s lunch when school’s back in session and he’s in Magnate Leto mode. Then you and Fitz would ditch your afternoon sessions, let me work my mad skills on the lock to his office, and ta-da! One conked-out Forkle drooling on his giant desk, just waiting to have his memories explored. You guys would have plenty of time to do your Telepath thing and slip back to study hall before he wakes up. I doubt he’d even know anything happened.” “Absolutely not!” Sandor snapped. “No one will be ditching sessions or drugging anybody!” Sophie had to agree, even if the less-than-noble part of herself couldn’t deny that the plan was solid.

Uh, I rely on Dex and Biana all the time,” Sophie argued, holding up her hand—and then realizing the panic-switch ring that Dex had designed for her was hidden under her glove. “The only reason I haven’t relied on Wylie as much is because he’s newer to working with the Black Swan.” She glanced at her friends, expecting to find them nodding along. But they were all staring at their feet. “What?” “Well… I mean… you do leave us out sometimes,” Biana mumbled. “Or you only include us if we force you to.” “And it’s never like that for Keefe and Fitz,” Dex added. “It totally is for Keefe,” Sophie argued. “He just doesn’t take no for an answer—you know how Keefe is. Plus, we’re fighting his mom. And Fitz and I are Cognates

Why does almost dying have to be the worst?” “Pretty sure the answer’s in the name,” Biana said gently. “So let’s rename it!” Keefe suggested, making his way over to Sophie and draping his arm across her shoulders. “From now on, any time there’s a disaster, we’ll say, ‘Wow, we almost Fostered it!’ ” Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m serious,” Keefe insisted. “We’ll make it your big claim to fame!” “So, when you challenged King Dimitar to a sparring match and he sliced a huge gash under your ribs…,” Sophie challenged. “I totally Fostered it!” Keefe finished without missing a beat. “And when you projectile vomit all over the Councillors today, you’ll be Fostering it hardcore—” “And some of us are super looking forward to that, by the way!” Ro cut in. “I’m just wishing I’d thought to bring snacks.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand they’ve gone into full Fitzphie eye-staring mode—so that’s our cue!” Keefe announced, fumbling for his home crystal. He hooked his arm around Ro’s, but she locked her knees. “Nope, I have one more question for Pretty Boy, first.” Sophie and Keefe groaned. Fitz crossed his arms and tilted his chin up. “Okay, hit me with it.” Ro flashed all of her pointed teeth. “If Sophie can’t find out who her genetic parents are, does that change anything for you?” He frowned. “Why wouldn’t she be able to?” “Doesn’t matter,” Ro told him. “Just answer the question.” “But… the question makes no sense!” Fitz argued. “It’s not like the information doesn’t exist. If we needed to, we could pull it right out of Forkle’s brain.” He glanced at Sophie. “Wait—should we just do that?” “It’s plan Z,” Keefe told him.

He reached for her other hand. “Speaking of helping—hear me out on this, okay? I know you and Keefe have a plan—and I’m not saying it’s a bad one. But I really think I should be the one to go with you when you confront Bronte.” Ro sniffed. “Of course you do.” “Um, reading his thoughts will be way clearer than trying to translate his emotions,” Fitz argued, “and this is the kind of thing we need to be absolutely certain about.” “It is,” Sophie agreed. “But… I’ve been in Bronte’s head. It’s really not a great place for a Telepath.” “But you went in alone,” Fitz reminded her. “Now we’d be taking him on together.” Ro clapped her hands, jumping up and down. “Oh! Oh! This is the part where he’s going to remind you that you’re Cognates!” “Well, we are!” Fitz snapped back, looking like he’d had about all he could stand of Ro’s interruptions. Sophie was equally done with them.

HIYA, FITZY,” KEEFE SAID, LOOKING and sounding infinitely calmer than Sophie was feeling as he gave Fitz a quick chin nod and stood up to greet him—though he also shot Ro a look that said, Your punishment for not warning us will be LEGENDARY. “Didn’t know you’d be stopping by.” Fitz snorted. “Clearly.” Keefe smirked. “Wow, someone’s grumpy. Did Biana kick your butt in bramble again? He haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaates to lose,” he stage-whispered to Sophie. “But I guess you probably already know that about your boyfriend.” Sophie had a feeling he’d used the last word intentionally—and she chose to not correct him for the same reason, even though the label felt especially tenuous at the moment. “Or is it because Biana’s making you call her ‘Lady Biana’ now?” Keefe asked. “Your girlfriend’s totally been doing the same thing, in case you were wondering. Isn’t that right, Lady Fos-Boss?” Sophie scowled.

We need to have a serious discussion about your leadership skills, Miss Foster,” Bronte’s sharp voice barked the next morning, jolting Sophie out of the dazed, half-sleepy state she’d been lingering in since sunrise. “And perhaps also about your strange choices for sleeping location.” Some part of her brain had been telling her that she needed to get up and get ready for a big day of super-important stuff. The other part had decided that all of that stuff could wait a tiny bit longer. And then a tiny bit longer after that. And a little more after that. As if she’d found some sort of strange mental snooze button—which she was happy to keep hitting as long as it let her stay surrounded by baby alicorns and Calla’s soothing songs instead of having to face reality. And now her entire brain was telling her that the best solution to her current situation was to pull her blankets over her head and wait for Bronte to go away.

That’s not fair,” Sophie grumbled through a yawn. “Yeah, wow,” Keefe said, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled to his feet. “If I don’t go now, I’m going to be drooling on your desk—unless you need me to stay.” Sophie couldn’t tell if he was asking her or her physicians. Either way, she told him, “Go home, Keefe. You’ve been stuck here long enough.” He shook his head, studying her with sleepy eyes. “I’m never stuck with you, Foster. Someday I’m going to make you see that.” “Sounds like I’d better get Hunkyhair home,” Ro said, striding out of Sophie’s closet in a silky pink gown that somehow looked both right and wrong with her armor strapped on top of it. “I was bored,” Ro added when she noticed the way everyone was staring, like that explained her new fashion choices. “I’ll bring the dress back tomorrow.” “Keep it,” Sophie told her. “You… look really good.” Ro glanced down, sliding her hands across the shimmering skirt, then rolled her eyes and muttered something about sparkles going to her head.

You know what Dex has everyone calling me now?” she asked. “I’m sure you’d be proud of him.” “The Mysterious Lady F?” Ro guessed. “Ugh, I wish. Nope, it’s… Lady Fos-Boss.” The confession was almost worth it when Keefe couldn’t help giving her a quick smirk. “I knew I liked that boy,” Ro announced. “In fact, I even tried out one of his little tricks—see?” She pointed to Sophie’s desk, and it took Sophie a second to figure out what she meant. “You changed Iggy’s color?” she asked, heading over to his cage, where, sure enough, the tiny imp had yet another new look. His neatly trimmed, gold, sparkly fur was now a much poofier ice blue with tiny crimps. “Huh, I figured he’d be pink and purple,” Sophie admitted, pointing to Ro’s colorful pigtails. Ro tossed her head, swishing her hair in the process. “Uh, no, I’m not sharing my fabulous style with anyone—much less a creature who spent the last hour eating his own toenails. But I thought it was only right to save your imp from being sparkle-fied—and I was going to be nice and turn him your favorite color. But apparently your favorite color is teal—and yeah, yeah, we all know why. But, um, do you realize how many of the nastiest little microbes are that color?” She shuddered. “I couldn’t do that to you—or the little dude. So I went with a nice ice blue. The kind of color you can’t help but love. Classic. Reliable—