Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(154)

But what kind of information?

And then she knew.

There are better ways to save your mom, she transmitted to Keefe. Let’s get out of here and we’ll figure it out together.

Not that she had any idea how they were going to get away. Her home crystal was gone, and Keefe didn’t seem to have one either. But the mountains weren’t that far away. If they made a run for it they might be able to get high enough to teleport—assuming she could get out of Alvar’s viselike grip.

“We should finish this at the hideout,” Alvar said, as if he knew what she’d been planning. “Ruy will be wondering where we are.”

“Not until he proves he can deliver the item,” Fintan said. “Show us the cache.”

“Let her go first,” Keefe snapped back.

“There you go again, making it hard to trust you. So let’s make this easier.” Fintan shoved Keefe to the ground and grabbed Sophie from Alvar. He squeezed her arm so hard she wondered if the bone might snap.

Everblaze erupted in his free hand and he held the flames under Sophie’s nose. “Give me the cache,” Fintan said, “or I’ll start giving her scars like the ones she gave Brant.”

“Okay,” Keefe said, stumbling to his feet. “I’ll get it right now.”

Sophie was trying hard to think of a way to help him out of his bluff when she heard the sound of her voice saying, “221B Baker Street.”

The cache dropped into Keefe’s palm with a plop, and Sophie’s jaw fell.

“How did you . . .”

Keefe wouldn’t look at her. “I pieced it together after I heard you training with Fitz. And mimicking’s easy.”

“Give it here,” Fintan ordered.

Don’t do it, Sophie transmitted.

Keefe kept his focus on Fintan. “You’ll honor the rest of our deal?”

“If you prove your loyalty,” Brant snapped.

“I brought the cache—what more do you need?” Keefe asked.

“You haven’t actually given it to us,” Fintan reminded him. He pointed to Alvar, who was the only one with free hands.

Sophie couldn’t breathe when she saw the look on Keefe’s face. There were so many emotions stretched across his features: Pain. Sorrow. Regret.

But the worst was shame.

“Don’t do it,” she begged. “That cache could destroy everything.”

“That’s the point,” Fintan agreed. “Three seconds, Mr. Sencen, then things get ugly.”

Sophie couldn’t fight back her sob as Keefe handed Alvar the cache. She tried to grab it telekinetically, but Alvar’s grip was too tight. And as soon as he had it, he leaped away.

Gone.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Fintan said, still holding the flames under Sophie’s nose. “But you still have one more test before I’ll trust you. And since the strongest bonds are created with fire . . .”

Brant smiled and picked up the bent frame of Sophie’s ruined monocle pendant. He passed the dented metal through the flames of Everblaze, then offered it to Keefe. “Brand her a traitor and maybe we’ll believe your commitment.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sophie asked as Keefe took the red-hot pendant. “How can you join them after everything they’ve done?”

Keefe’s eyes stayed focused on the brand. “I can’t pretend I’m who you want me to be anymore.”

“What does that even mean?” she screamed.

Keefe’s voice was choked now, but Sophie was too angry to cry.

“It means I got more memories back,” he said. “I’m not like you. You were made to be the hero. I was raised to be something . . . else.”

He reached toward her face, and she braced for searing pain. But all he touched was the necklace he’d given her. “I wanted you to have this before I left,” he whispered. “I thought it would be good for you to have something to remember me by. In case someday . . .”

“I’m growing impatient, Mr. Sencen,” Fintan warned.

“Give me a second!” Keefe traced his fingers over the beads, lingering on the one he’d made. “I know why my dad hated it now. It looks like our Exillium necklaces, doesn’t it? That’s why my mom must’ve liked it. She knew I was meant to be the outcast. You keep trying to fix everything, Sophie. You even fixed Exillium. But you can’t fix me.”

His eyes met hers then, and they held some sort of plea.

He glanced to his left, and she followed his gaze, spotting the faintest trace of a light path, glinting out of the tiny crystal on the new bead he’d painted for her.

“You understand, right?” Keefe asked.

“No.” But she did. Sort of.

Come with me, she transmitted.

“I have to do this,” he said. “Please don’t hate me.”

Their eyes met again and he nodded toward the faint trail of light he was still holding in place.

Sophie swallowed hard, wishing there was something—anything—she could do to take him with her. But her only choice was to channel the full force of her mental strength and twist free of Fintan’s iron grasp. She fell toward the path, taking one last look at Keefe’s anguished face as the light he’d created for her pulled her away.