Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(42)

“Are you throwing shoes at me?” Keefe asked, sliding open the window.

“Seemed like a good idea. Now I don’t have to wear them.”

He gave her a half smile, but it faded as he waved the air away from his face. “Wow, that is a lot of worry you’re hurling at me.”

“You kind of deserve it.”

Keefe mussed his still-unstyled hair.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Not really.”

She dragged out her sigh. “Is there anything I can do?”

He started to shake his head, then stopped. “Actually . . . yeah.”

“What?” Sophie asked, leaning out her window.

She didn’t hear him the first time, and had to make him repeat.

“Promise me you won’t hate me,” he whispered.

“Why would I hate you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll decide I wasn’t worth sacrificing your shoes.”

“Now, that’s never going to happen.” She’d hoped that might earn her a smile, but Keefe wouldn’t look at her. “I would never hate you, Keefe. Why would you even think that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just feel like I don’t belong here anymore.”

“You do. But . . . I know how it feels to be the outsider. The one with the past. The one with the shaky future. But you know what I’ve realized—or what I’m trying to realize, at least?”

“Is this the part where you give me some speech about how it’s our choices that show us who we truly are?”

“Nah, that sounds like something an old guy would say.”

Finally, he gave her a real smile!

“What I’m trying to realize is that it’s okay to be different. If everyone were the same, we’d all make the same mistakes. Instead we all face our own things, and that’s not so bad because we have people who care about us to help us through. You have that, Keefe. We’re all here for you. No matter what. Okay?”

Several seconds crawled by before he nodded.

“You should go to bed,” Keefe said as a gust of wind made Sophie shiver in her furry pajamas.

The suggestion was tempting—Alluveterre was so much colder than Havenfield. But she was afraid the glints of progress she’d made would be snuffed out when she left Keefe alone.

“I’ve got a better idea,” she said, racing to her bed and grabbing Ella, her pillow, and the thickest quilt. She coiled the blanket around her and waddled back to the window like a fluffy burrito. “See? Window slumber party!”

Keefe laughed—laughed—and, after a slight hesitation, disappeared and returned with his own blanket and pillow.

The floor felt hard and cold. The problems ahead of them unimaginable.

But they weren’t alone.

And that made all the difference.





EIGHTEEN


SOPHIE WOKE WITH the sunrise and found Keefe still asleep by his window, his cheek smashed against the glass.

She smiled at how peaceful he looked—no signs of any nightmares.

She smiled even wider when she noticed the tiny trail of drool near his lip.

“You slept on the floor?” Calla asked from the doorway.

Sophie clutched her chest to calm her startled heart. “It was for a good cause.”

She took one last look at sleeping Keefe before pulling her drapes closed. “How come you’re up so early?”

“I’m always awake at this hour. I take my ten minutes at midday, under the warmth of the high-noon sun.”

Sophie couldn’t imagine living on so little sleep, but she was more worried about the way Calla was nervously twiddling her green thumbs.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

Calla’s wide gray eyes met hers. “I . . . need help from the moonlark. There’s something I need you to check for me—a whisper in the forest I do not understand.”

The words felt colder than the floor as Sophie fumbled to change into pants and a tunic. She was still struggling into her boots as she followed Calla to the waterfall common room.

“We should leave a note for the others so they do not wonder where you are,” Calla whispered, plucking a dry leaf from the carpet and carving a message with her thumbnail.

“Wait—are we leaving Alluveterre?” Sophie had assumed the forest Calla meant was the trees right outside.

Calla handed her the message she’d cut out in frilly lettering:

With Calla in Brackendale. Be home soon.

~Sophie & Biana

“Biana?” Sophie asked.

Calla pointed to the corner. “I assume you’re planning to join us?”

“I am,” Biana agreed, appearing in the shadows. “But how did you know I was there?”

“Gnomish eyes are not fooled by tricks of light,” Calla told her.

“Seriously?” Biana asked. “How did I not know that?”

“It’s not something we think to mention,” Calla said. “Elves have no reason to hide from us. Are we ready? The journey ahead is long.”

“Just let me grab my shoes,” Biana said, and Sophie was relieved to see her return from her bedroom in a pair of sturdy walking boots.