Nightfall (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #6)

by Shannon Messenger

Time to stop believing the pretty stories they’d been fed all their lives. Time to see their world for what it really was. Time to take something back. So together—as one—they locked hands and started the long, slippery descent. Into the past. Into darkness.

We tell ourselves that we’re the superior creatures on the planet. And yet, we’ll scour the globe to preserve animals—we even had the dwarves hollow out an entire mountain range so we could build a Sanctuary for them. But we’ve stood back and let billions of humans die. Yes, their life spans are fleeting. And yes, they tried to betray us all those millennia ago—and I have no doubt that some of them would do it again if they knew we existed. But none of that—none of that—justifies letting innocent people suffer and die. Especially children.

We created you, yes. But your life is still yours. You get to decide what you want to do with it. That’s why we’ve never told you our hopes or goals—why we didn’t make a specific plan. We simply made you to the best of our abilities and let you find your own way. And now here you are, at this turning point in history, facing down enemies with unimaginably evil schemes. No one expects you to solve everything. And we certainly don’t expect you to fight alone. But I personally can’t wait to see what else you do with the gifts we gave you, whenever the time comes.”

Just trust yourself and your gifts—and your friends. And never doubt that wherever this is heading, we’ve done all we can to prepare you.”

“Okay, fine. I also know how it feels to be told to sit back while everyone else does all the important stuff,” Sophie said quietly. “But this is something you can’t help with. It’s too big. Too complicated. And you’re too… human.”

Maybe something good would come from all of this panic and ugliness. Maybe she really could have her family back in her life. It would be confusing and complicated—and probably change a ton of things for everyone. But it would be worth it. And she wanted it. More than anything.

He didn’t promise her that everything would be okay. Or tell her she had no reason to worry. He didn’t even try to interrogate her about whatever she was planning. All he said was, “I believe in you, Sophie Foster,” as he raised his pathfinder up to the silvery glow of the moonlight. And Sandor added, “We all do.”

Taking control. It sounded so simple. And so impossible. But Edaline was right—that was the only way to get through this.

“If you’re trying to impress me, it’s working,” he told her, and she felt her cheeks warm—until he added, “But, you always impress me, so maybe you were thinking of someone else?” Sophie took a step back. She knew he was only teasing, but that didn’t stop her face from experiencing an entirely different kind of burn.

“Probably.” He smiled, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d need a stuffed animal to sleep. But… I never knew I needed a lot of things before I met you.” Somehow he’d moved closer, and Sophie’s throat went dry as he reached up and touched her braid again.

And I know you’re going to tell me it won’t be that simple—and it probably won’t be. But whatever it takes, it’s going to happen. Do you know why?” When she didn’t answer, he took both of her hands, and she couldn’t ignore the rush of warmth that tingled through her when she met his eyes. There was no teasing glint to be found. Just pure determination when he told her, “Because Team Foster-Keefe is going to win.”

“I’m hoping Lady Cadence will agree to help. And, um… don’t freak out, but I think only Keefe and I should go.” Naturally, there was a whole lot of freaking out.

He headed for the first floating step, and Sophie half expected the stone to crumble under his weight. But it held steady, somehow not even shifting. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked when none of them followed. Everyone looked to Sophie to go first—the wimps.

“But favoring it gives beauty value—and therein lies the folly. Why is something valuable simply because it appeals to our senses? What good does that really do, in the grand scheme of things? My home may not have shimmering halls or sculpted gardens, but it allowed me to carve out a life between two drastically different worlds. And yet when you look at it, all you see are its quirks and oddities, and whether you realize it or not, you condemn it for them.

What some admire, others may not—and neither side is wrong. We should all be challenging ourselves to keep an open mind.”

“But… the Neverseen are elves too,” Biana reminded her. “Exactly. That’s the treachery of greed. Everything stops being about logic and becomes a simple matter of who tells you what you most want to hear.

The things he shouted—the horrors he chose to suffer… no one could fake that level of pure, poisonous hatred. Doubt me if you want. But keep in mind that the mark of most extremists is that they resist change, claiming they’re trying to protect something they fear they’re about to lose. Sound like anyone in this room?” “Now we’re extremists?” Woltzer asked. “Good intentions can be just as extreme as bad ones,” Lady Cadence told him. “Don’t let yourselves make that mistake.

“But,” she added, “the teachers were always telling us that if we didn’t know our history, it might repeat itself.” “Which would be a valid point if the humans truly were learning and improving,” Grady said gently. “But even with all that knowledge—all that history—don’t they still live with war and crime? Don’t they still cling to their same prejudices? The Councillors believe that the truer lessons don’t come from the facts or details. They come from the emotions triggered by the experiences—and those never get erased. If something inspires caution or reserve—or outrage and indignation—the Councillors still carry those feelings with them, even after the memories are wiped away.” “Yeah, but emotions can be warped,” Keefe said quietly.

“Every horrible thing my dad ever said to me came from his twisted idea of love. He was a jerk because he cared—or thought he did. We all know the only person he actually cares about is himself.”

“Nope. Not gonna tell you.” “Uh—they’re my feelings.” “Yeah, but once you know about them, it… changes things. That’s the part that’s missing from my dad’s theory. He never explained why the emotions in the heart and the head are different. But I figured it out. It’s because we’re aware of what goes on up here”—he tapped the side of his head—“so we control those feelings in subtle ways. We’ll encourage any emotions we’re comfortable with, and fight the ones we aren’t. But here”—he pressed his hands against his chest—“everything is beyond our control. And once you become aware of it…” He flicked his hands, like he was holding something that went poof!

“Don’t you miss when crushes were only silly, secret things?” she asked quietly. “Suddenly it’s all getting so… real—and not just because of this. I mean… Fitz already finished filling out his matchmaking packet. And you probably need to go pick up yours—if you haven’t already.” Keefe smirked. “So that’s what kept you up tossing and turning? Wondering if I’ve registered for the match?” “Ugh, that’s so not what I was saying.” “Suuuuuuurrrrre it wasn’t.”

“So… might as well find out if the whole ‘almost dying’ thing is as miserable as you guys make it look, or if you’re just being babies about it. Besides, what good is being able to shoot fireballs if you can’t fling them at freaky beasts every once in a while?”

“You can’t change who you are, or who your family is,” Tam told her. “Believe me—if I could, I would. All you can do is make sure you’re living by what you believe in.”

Sometimes we have to remember that we are not machines. We may not like it, but we need food and sleep—even if we have to force it. Otherwise we’ll run ourselves into the ground.”

And we let you sleep because you needed it.” “And because it was time to let the grown-ups tackle some of these challenges,” Lady Cadence added. “Oh, don’t scowl at me like that—there’s nothing wrong with admitting that certain things need a bit more wisdom and maturity to manage.” “It had nothing to do with that,” Edaline insisted. “We just wanted to give you a chance to recover after an incredibly draining day. And don’t worry, Mr. Forkle is here to update you on everything that’s been happening—”

she’s seen more of the majesty of the Lost Cities, she may feel more ready to put her trust in us as a species.” “Even though all those memories will have to be erased?” Sophie had to ask, her voice wobbling on the last word. Now that it was going to take them even longer to save her parents from whatever they were enduring, she couldn’t imagine their minds wouldn’t have to be reset. And so would Amy’s. “Is a day any less worth living simply because you’re not going to remember it?” Bronte asked. “The joy she’ll feel will still be real in the moment. Why not let her experience it?”

Three hands. No fourth for her. It was how it should be. How it would have to be. And Sophie could live with that. She could let them go again, to spare them that pain. But it would still hurt. It would always hurt.

With all the bad news and stress, it was nice to give her this unforgettable experience. Even if Amy wouldn’t get to remember it for very long. Sadness crept in with the realization, but Sophie fought it back, trying to savor the moment. They both deserved to lose themselves in this brief, happy escape before they’d have to return to reality. So they flew for hours and hours, until the sun was long gone and the blue-black sky twinkled with the flickers of early stars.

“If what you’re saying is true,” Sophie said, trying to fit the new details with everything she already knew, “why did Fintan abduct Wylie and interrogate him about his mom?” “Because Fintan’s convinced that Cyrah took so long to make the starstones—and messed up that final stone—for a reason. He believes that people who are forced to do things under duress always find a means to rebel.

And try not to die.” The Imparter went silent, and Sophie and Keefe just stared at it. Eventually Keefe mumbled, “So… all of that’s getting shoved into a really dark corner of my head—and we’re not going to talk about it, okay? At least not until we get through tonight.”