Chapter Text
{1} The World Cup
2016 | July 15th
“Morning Basil,” Harry stumbled to his feet as Mr. Weasley called out to the kilted wizard.
Harry was still trying to get his bearings after the portkey trip as Sirius let out a laugh beside him and grabbed his arm, helping him haul himself to his feet. “Not used to protkeys, huh kid?”
He shook his head. “How are you so unaffected? I feel like i'm going to puke.”
Sirius' face split into a grin. “Strong stomach.”
“Hello there, Arthur,” the kilted wizard said, drawing Harry’s attention back to him. “Not on duty, eh? It’s all right for some… we’ve been here all night.. You’d better get out of the way, we’ve got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I’ll find your campsite…”
Harry grinned up at Sirius. Part of him couldn’t believe he was actually here. He looked around at their group- the twins, Ginny and Hermonie were standing behind him and Sirius while Basil consulted his parchment list. His mood dampened when he noticed Ron wasn’t with them. He missed his best friend and while Sirius had done a good job at keeping Harry’s mind off it, it was still hard.
“Ah, here it is. About a quarter mile’s walk over there, first field you come to. Sight manager’s called Mr. Robens.”
“Thanks, Basil,” Mr. Weasley called as he started walking away, motioning for everyone to follow him. Basil went back to scouring his list for the Digory’s campsite. As they walked, Harry couldn’t help but smile as Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Onward and outward kid,” He said with a smile.
It was about twenty minutes before a small stone cottage came into view. Behind it, Harry could just see the shapes of hundreds of tents through the fog. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. Harry was sure almost immediately that he was a muggle.
“Morning!” called Mr. Weasley brightly.
“Morning,” the man grumbled back.
“Would you happen to be Mr. Roberts?”
The man nodded, “Aye, I would. And who’re you?”
“Weasley, I booked two tents a couple of days ago?”
Mr. Roberts nodded, glancing over at the list tacked to his door. “You’ve got a space up by the wood, one night?”
“That’s it,” Mr. Weasley said.
“You’ll be paying now then?”
Mr. Weasley blinked. He started to stammer something out but Sirius cut him off. “I’ve got this.” The man pulled away from Harry, fishing out a large wad of muggle bills from his jacket. Harry watched as he flipped through them and handed the man the correct amount.
Mr. Roberts nodded, then glanced at Mr. Weasley’s perplexed expression. “You foreign?”
“Foreign?” repeated the redhead.
“Aye, you're not the first one who’s had trouble with money,” said Mr Roberts, “I had two try to pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago.”
“That’s odd,” Sirius said before Mr. Weasley could continue, “but we need to get going to our campsite.”
The man blinked, waving his hand. “Yeah of course. Got distracted there, a map of the campsite for you, and your change.”
Sirius gave the man a smile and a nod as the whole group trudged up the misty field and up through the rows of tents. Most of the tents looked ordinary, like the owners were trying to keep them looking as muggle as possible, but every now and again there was one so obviously magical that Harry was shocked Mr. Roberts hadn’t completely caught on yet. One tent was made of striped silk and had several live peacocks tied to the front, and another had three floors. Sirius made a game out of spotting the most over the most over-the-top ones, and soon the Weasleys and even Hermione had joined in.
When they finally reached the edge of the wood on top of the hill there was a small space with a sign reading ‘weezly’ hammered into the ground.
“Couldn’t have been a better spot! The pitch is just on the other side of the wood there, we’re as close as can be.” Mr. Weasley was grinning ear to ear. “Right. So, no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we’re out in these numbers on Muggle land. We’ll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn’t be too difficult, muggles do it all the time. Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?”
Harry blinked. He’d never been camping, ever. The Dursleys had never taken him on a holiday, much less out camping in the woods. He had no idea how to put up a tent.
Sirius laughed at his perplexed expression, and reached up to ruffle his hair. “I don’t think Harry’s ever put up a tent- something that I’ll need to rectify at some point-” Harry perked up at that. He would love to go camping with Sirius- “Thankfully, I know how to put one up the old fashion way.”
It took around an hour and a half to get the tents set up- mostly due to Mr. Weasley’s over excitement every time he got a chance to use a mallet, but it definitely went way faster then it would have without Sirius’ instruction. By the end, Harry was actually pretty impressed by how good the tents looked. They definitely looked muggle, but at least not like they'd been thrown together by a bunch of teenagers.
He only realized a problem after everyone else had already gone in, leaving just him and Sirius outside.
“Um, these are a bit small,” He mumbled, “Bill, Charlie and Percy still need to get here, and I don’t think the ten of us will fit. ”
Sirius smiled, then ducked under the tent after Hermonie, motioning Harry to follow him. He did, dending down and ducked under the tent flap, only to feel his jaw drop. The inside was massive- about the same size as a three bedroom flat, complete with a kitchen and bathroom.
He turned to Srius as the man smiled. “I missed magic,” He said, turning to Harry. “You ready for the world cup?”
***
Harry hadn’t realized he’d drifted off to sleep- his fantasies of flying like Krum overlapping with possible dreams- until Sirius was shaking him awake. “Get up Harry, somethings happening.”
As Harry jolted up, he could dimly tell that something was wrong. The noises for the campsite had changed. The singing had gone quiet, instead replaced by the sounds of screams, shouts and echoing footsteps of people running.
He slipped out from his bunk, reaching for his clothes before Sirius shoved a jacket into his arms. “No time kid. Put that on and get outside.” He did as he was told and hurried outside beside Sirius.
The fires still burning cast dim red light over the people running into the snowy woods, running from the figures that stomped towards them through the shadowy grounds. They moved as a unit, black cloaks swishing around their bodies and they marched.
High above him, four struggling bodies were being contorted into gruesome shapes, the dim red light illuminating the gore and blood that dripped down each one. The group began to swell, and tents fell around them. Flashes of light bloated from the mass, setting tents on fire and smashing into running wizards.
As he stared in horror, Harry heard Sirius swear as they drew closer. Mr. Weasley emerged again with Ginny and Hermonie, and Bill, Charlie, and Percy came out of the boys tent, wands out.
“We’re going to help the ministry, all of you stay together.” Mr. Weasley shouted as the four weasley’s tore off towards the growing mass.
“Follow me!” Sirius shouted, grabbing Harry as he called for the others to follow him. Harry watched as Fred grabbed Ginny’s arm; Hermonie and George followed. The group pushed their way through the running people. The crowd was full of writhing people, and Harry could feel his body get jostled. Then he stumbled as someone slammed into him, sending him crashing into the ground beside one of the tents.
It felt like he was only out for a few seconds, but when he opened his eyes again, the tents around him were tattered with ash. Stumbling to his feet as he staggered forward and away from the path, wincing as he put weight on his ankle. He’d definitely sprained it.
As he moved forward slowly, trying to avoid getting trampled by the crowd, he spotted a cloaked figure standing on the other side of one of the tents. Harry, duked behind a tent as he saw the figure raise their wand.
“MOR-” A sudden beam of light cut the figure off. It slammed into them, the explosion letting out a bang as they were flung onto the ground.
Two other figures stepped out into the clearing. One of them was tall and wearing dark clothes under a blue jean jacket. His hair was bleached white, with the ends dyed purple and blue. Harry could just see the dark roots on the top of his head. The shorter was wearing a black coat with the hood pulled up, obscuring his face.
“How dare you!” the first figure shouted. His wand was pointed at the two of them.
The hooded figure shot his hand out- a wand grasped in it. He shouted, “Bombarda!” as another blast slammed into the figure just as they shouted “Curcio!”
The beam of green light zipped towards the uncloaked figure, and slammed into his chest. He collapsed onto the ground, seizing.
“Percy!” The hooded figure shouted, crouching down beside him, his hood slipping off, revealing bleach-blonde hair with orange roots.
“MORSMORDRE!” The first man’s wand shot a beam of green light into the sky. It exploded into a shower of sparks and formed a skull. The serpent pushed its way out, curling around it.
“Fuck,” the boy in the blue jacket muttered as the figure sprinted away.
“It’s okay,” the other boy muttered, pulling him up, and turning.
And that’s when Harry saw his face.
“Ron?” Harry whispered, pushing himself up. The boy whipped around and stared at him, “Ron!”
Ron’s eyes widened as Harry rushed towards him. He was so close, but a whirlwind of coloured light stopped him.
By the time it faded, Ron was gone, and the clearing was filled with the bright green light from above.
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{2} Florence, Italy
2016 | September 20th
“Will you relax? We’ve got this! Though I’m not sure about my shoes.” Dex pointed to his soft brown boots, which were a typical elvin style. “All the human ones Fitz had were too big for my feet.”
“I doubt anyone will notice,” Sophie told him. “But I guess it depends on how long we’ll be around humans. How far away is the hideout after we get to Florence?”
Fitz blinked at the question. He kept forgetting that he was actually bringing people with him this time. He also found it funny how worried Sophie was about people thinking they were odd looking. In his experience, most people just thought he was a hippy, homeless or a drug addict when he was wearing elven clothes in the Forbidden Cities, which funny enough meant that people went out of their way not to look at him. Helpful when you were technically doing illegal stuff.
“You'll see,” He said offhandedly, before turning to Dex, “and don't worry too much, they'll probably just think you're just some weird tourist.”
Keefe let out a laugh and he heard Dex mumble “Tourist?” under his breath. Sophie was still frowning.
“Hey, you trust me, don't you?” Fitz hoped she did. He needed her to be on board with this. Running around with four other elves would definitely attract entity attention if they stayed out in the open too long. Fitz was also really hoping that there weren’t enough of them to draw the attention of pantheon monsters.
“What is with these clothes?” Biana said as she popped up next to Keefe.
Fitz let out a snort as she hopped up and down trying to get her other leg to appear. Biana was wearing one of his old sweaters and a pair of faded jeans- both of which were at least two sizes too big.
“At least I get to wear my shoes,” Biana added, pulling up her pant leg and showing off her diamond encrusted shoes. The ones he had repeatedly told her not to wear because she could run in them. At all, “and why do we only have boys' stuff?”
Fitz sighed. “Don’t know if you've noticed, but I'm a boy, Biana. And this isn't a damn fashion contest, and I told you to wear something you can run in.”
“Well, if this was a fashion contest, I'd definitely win, right Foster?” Keefe chipped in, striking a pose. Fitz definitely agreed. “And anyways, Fitz’s clothes are a snooze fest. I mean, look at him!” Keefe gestured to him.
Fitz sighed again. He was wearing Gerry’s old jacket with an obscure tucked into one of the pockets, a pair of faded jeans, and a black Metallica shirt he'd stolen from Sirius a few years back. He was definitely not winning any fashion shows, but the attire was ten times more comfortable then any elven clothing he could wear.
Even if his favourite parts of his outfit had to be the steel-toed boots and concealed pistol.
“Check out what Dex and I found in Alvar’s closet!” Keefe chimbed as he and Dex both unzipped their hoodies, revealing T-shirts with logos underneath. T-shirts that belong to Fitz. Seriously, had Alvar just stolen stuff out of his closet to be an ass? Some days Fitz questioned whether his brother actually hated him.
“I have no idea what this means, but it’s crazy awesome, right?” Keefe asked, pointing to the black and yellow oval on his shirt.
“It’s from Batman,” Sophie said- which Keefe immediately responded to by forcing her to recount everything she could about the franchise.
“I’m wearing this shirt forever, guys,” he decided. “Also, I want a Batmobile! Dex, can you make that happen?”
Dex ignored him. “What’s my shirt from?” Dex asked, pointing to the logo with interlocking yellow W’s. Fitz held back a laugh as Sophie tried to get around telling him it was Wonder Woman.
“Why does Alvar have human stuff?” Sophie asked. “I thought he worked with the ogres.”
“He does,” Fitz replied. “Or he did before you almost started a war with them.” He tried to make it come off as light hearted, but the screaming match that had followed after Alvar was taken off the assignment had been awful.
“But that still doesn’t explain why Alvar has human stuff,” Sophie reminded him. “Ogres hate humans even more than elves do.”
“They do,” he agreed. “But these clothes are from years ago, back when Alvar used to go out looking for you.”
“He did?” Sophie asked. “I thought that was your job.”
Fitz smiled sadly. It had been his job, and while it had definitely had it’s downsides- like the fact that he had to constantly wear a modified addler now- it was also the only time in his life that he had ever felt like he had people who really cared about him. He missed that. Missed the family they had made. But Gertrude and Gerry were dead, and he had responsibilities here. It didn’t matter what he wanted.
“I started searching for you when I was six, after Alvar started his elite levels and wasn’t able to sneak away from Foxfire anymore. But my dad searched for you for twelve years, remember? I couldn’t go on secret missions when I was a toddler.”
“What a slacker,” Keefe interrupted. “I totally could’ve pulled that off. But then again, I’m Batman, so-” he draped an arm over Sophie’s shoulders- “I could be your hero any day.”
Dex pretended to gag, while Biana stared at Keefe’s arm around Sophie.
“Aren’t we supposed to be leaving?” He pointed out. They were burning daylight, and the group seemed to be forgetting that they were changing time zones as well.
“Wait!” Fitz turned to see his Dad coming down the stairs. “You can’t leave wearing your registry pendants.”
Fitz felt a bit stupid that he’d forgotten about that. He’d already been bullshitting his own feed, but it made sense to leave it this time, and treat it more like a long excursion with Gerry and not a quick pop-in to the human world.
Alden pulled out a pair of sharp black pliers and said, “Let’s start with Fitz.” He said, his voice weak and wobbly.
Fitz flinched as he felt the cold metal of the pliers brush against his neck and cut the thick cord. The cold steel felt far too similar to a blade for comfort. He watched as the crystal pendant clattered to the floor.
“Whoa. This just got real,” Keefe whispered.
“Yeah it did.” Fitz traced his fingers across his now-bare neck. It felt good to get the tracking collar off his neck. He watched as Alden cut through the rest of the pendants and disabled Sophie and Dex’s nexuses.
“I think that takes care of everything,” Alden said. “Though you all must remember to look out for one another. Fitz and Biana, share your concentration with Dex when you’re leaping. And Keefe, I want you to help Sophie.”
“Oh, I will,” Keefe promised with a wink.
“We all will,” Fitz corrected him, while holding back a sigh. Keefe’s crush on Sophie was almost as exhausting as Sophie’s crush on him- something he seriously needed to deal with at some point. He just had no idea how to politely turn her down, or how to explain his constant presence around her. It was hard to just stop paying attention to somebody you spent your whole life trying to find or hearing about trying to find.
“Hey, I can take care of myself,” Sophie argued. “I’m the one bringing us to Florence, remember?”
Using Sophie's teleporting had been his idea. The blue leaping crystals all led to the same place in each Forbidden City, which would make it easier for someone to follow them.
“All of you can take care of yourselves,” his dad said, then glanced at him. Did you grab the pistol?
Yep, Fitz transmitted back, along with ammo. If we move quickly I don’t think anything will catch onto us. I also have euros in case we need to bunker down if stuff goes wrong.
Thank you, his dad transmitted back, then continued, “but you are stronger when you work together. You must also have a leader to keep the team organized. Fitz, you're the oldest, keep them safe.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Keefe argued, “he’s only older by a few months.”
“Uh, by ‘few,’ you mean eleven,” Fitz corrected and transmitted to Alden: Of course. I'm prepared to take on a servant if it keeps these idiots safe. I’ve fought them before at nine and won, I can do it at fifteen.
Dex snorted. “Dude, you guys are old.”
“Hey, I’m the one who knows where we’re going,” Fitz said. “So I’m in charge, and… I guess we should probably head out. Though, wait- what about Mom? Shouldn’t we say goodbye?”
Alden glanced at Biana. “Your mother has to take care of something at the moment. But she told me to tell you she’ll see you soon.”
I know Della’s coming with use, Fitz transmitted, for the record you aren't that sneaky. He transmitted that last part to Della as well.
How’d you know? Alden asked
I’ve lived with Vanishers, and dealt with sneaky fuckers long enough to feel minds when their close to me, Fitz responded. He’d felt Della as soon as she’d walked in the room, Not Sophie-level brain-tracking, but enough to notice.
Impressive, Alden added before he turned to Sophie, not quite meeting her eyes. “I... offered Grady and Edaline a sedative a few minutes ago, and they decided to take it. We feared what would happen when they actually had to watch you leave. So they told me to tell you that they love you and that they left a note for you in your backpack. All right, we’ve lost enough time,” His dad said, pulling the five of them close for a hug. “Remember, this is not goodbye forever. It is simply goodbye for now.”
“Do you want us to let you know when we get there?” He asked quietly
“No, I cannot know anything about what you’re doing. None of us can.”
“Do you think the Council will order memory breaks?” Sophie whispered.
“No, the Council will not sink to that level. Plus, they know we’re too prominent and powerful. It is simply wise to be cautious. I promise there’s no reason to worry.” Ah yes, there it was. His dad’s favourite sang. Fitz had learned pretty early never to believe it.
“Come on,” Biana said, pulling open Everglen’s shimmering doors. They tramped down the shadowy path in silence.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Keefe said, “but I really miss having Gigantor tagging along with us.” Fitz disagreed. While he didn’t dislike Sandor, a hulking goblin was pushing it on what humans would notice. Though he would be useful to fight off a servant…
“Time to run,” Alden whispered. Teleporting only worked when they were free-falling, and the bluffs they needed to jump off were beyond Everglen’s protection.
Biana wiped her eyes. “Tell Mom we love her, okay?”
“We love you, too, Dad,” He added.
“And don’t let the Councillors anywhere near my family,” Dex begged.
“You have my word,” Alden promised. “And I won’t let them near Grady and Edaline, either.”
Sophie nodded, “Don’t let Grady go after Brant.”
Alden took her hands. “I won’t.”
Everyone looked at Keefe.
“Tell my dad . . . that I’ve been hiding his favorite cape in a closet on the twenty-ninth floor. But don’t tell him the door is rigged with gulon gas. Let him find that out on his own.”
“Is that really all you want to say, Keefe?” Alden asked.
Keefe shrugged. “What else is there?”
Alden wrapped Keefe in a hug and whispered something in Keefe’s ear. Whatever it was made Keefe’s eyes water, but Fitz was pretty sure he could guess. He’d seen enough of the bruises on Keefes arms, and had enough long talks with his dad to know that he was comforting him.
Fitz turned towards the gates, locking hands with Keefe, just as a figure wearing a diamond encrusted cape stepped out of the shadows. His hand immediately reached for the pistol in his pocket, before he stopped himself, reaching for the knife strapped in his coat instead.
“It’s okay,” A fragile voice promised as the figure threw back her shimmering hood. Blond ringlets cascaded around the beautiful, familiar face of a weary-looking Councillor Oralie. Her pink-jeweled circlet was noticeably absent as she told them, “I came here on my own.”
Alden lowered the melder. “How long before the others arrive?”
“Not long. Bronte and Terik are still arguing, but they will gain nothing. There is too much fear and fury clouding the others’ reason.” Oralie trailed her graceful fingers across her arms, shivering in the moonlight.
“What will their punishments be?” Alden asked.
Oralie lowered her eyes. “Dex and Keefe will be suspended until midterm and placed under constant chaperone. Fitz and Biana will be suspended for a week and given a month of Sanctuary service-”
“Wait a minute,” Dex interrupted. “How come they get off easier?”
“Their family holds a tremendous legacy in our world,” Oralie reminded him. Fitz tried not to gag. Sometimes he really did wonder how elves could see themselves as unprejudiced when their prejudices were so clearly in their faces.
“So that’s how it is?” Keefe asked. “Now that we know the truth about my mom, my family’s garbage?”
“Not garbage,” Oralie corrected. “But your father has been removed as an Emissary. The Councillors do not trust that an Empath could be completely blind to his wife’s betrayal.”
Keefe blinked several times, then barked a loud, cold laugh. “Well, I guess I can’t say my mom never did anything for me. I almost wish I could be there when you break the news.”
Fitz couldn’t help but agree. The sharp curl of satisfaction wasn’t unwarranted, that stupid title was everything to Keefe’s father, and he deserved to lose it after everything he did to Keefe.
“What about me?” Sophie asked. “What did they decide for my punishment?”
“That is still the subject of much debate,” Oralie said quietly, “but most likely they will banish you to Exillium. Exillium is relegated to the Neutral Territories, a part of our world far too dangerous for you to visit. Especially now.”
“Why especially now?” Alden asked.
“The ogres are stirring- at least, that is what I fear. Which is why I came to give you this.” Oralie snapped her fingers and a small glass sphere appeared in her palm. Sophie hadn’t realized Oralie was a Conjurer.
“Your cache?” Alden said, taking a step back.
“Actually, this is Kenric’s,” Oralie corrected. “He gave it to me, before he…” before he died.
Oralie took Sophie’s hand, placing the cache carefully in her palm. Seven glittering stones were set inside, each a different color.
“Kenric made me promise to give this to you if anything happened to him,” she whispered, “to make sure you’d be protected.”
“Does that mean he suspected his life was in danger?” Alden asked.
“We both did. Though I should’ve done more to help.” Tears slipped down Oralie’s cheeks. “I should’ve done so many things.”
“He believed in you,” Oralie said, tracing a soft finger down Sophie’s cheek. “He told me you were the spark of change our world needed. So keep his gift close, and if the Council catches you, use his cache to buy your freedom. Do not let them send you to Exillium. You must also take this.” She handed Sophie an Imparter. “It cannot be traced or tracked- and I’m the only one you’ll be able to contact with it. This way we have means to contact each other.”
“What if the Council discovers your involvement?” Alden asked. “They will surely see this as treason.”
“Sometimes rebellion is the only course of wisdom. As all of you well know.” Oralie turned back to Sophie,“I must go.”
She raised her pathfinder to the moonlight and glittered away.
“Now that’s what I call mysterious,” Keefe said. “Foster, you should be taking notes. And who else wants to play with this cache thingy and see what it does?”
“You will do nothing of the sort!” Alden told him. “And you must not let anyone know you have it- I wouldn’t even tell the Black Swan. Our world would crumble if that cache fell into the wrong hands.”
“Really?” Sophie asked.
“The object itself is not the danger. It’s what the cache contains. What do you think the biggest threat to our world is?” Alden asked.
“The ogres?” Sophie guessed.
“Actually, it is knowledge,” Alden corrected. “Information holds unimaginable power, and some things are too dangerous to be known- even by the Councillors. So they lock the most disturbing secrets away before having them erased from their minds. They’re called the Forgotten Secrets, and they are stored in what you hold there. Each Councillor vows to guard their cache with their lives. Oralie has taken an enormous risk by giving this to you. She’s also given you our world’s most valuable bargaining chip.”
“Come on,” Sophie mumbled, shoving the cache into her pocket, “we should get to the Black Swan.”
Fitz took her hand when she reached for him, Biana on his other side. The five of them ran till they reached the steep ocean bluff.
“I’m going to open my mind to yours so you can finally show me where we’re going,” Shopie said
“I don’t have anything to show you,” He admitted.“I just know we’re supposed to start at the Path of the Privileged.”
She blinked at him, “I have no idea what that is. And what do you mean by ‘start’?”
“That was the first instruction,” He said. He really didn’t know what else to say.
“Instruction?” Sophie asked. “Or riddle?”
“I guess it could be a riddle,” Fitz mumbled. “But I didn’t think they’d do that this time.”
“Dude, have you met the Black Swan?” Keefe asked.
“I know,” Fitz said. “But I figured for something this important they’d be clear.” More like he was hoping they would be. He really didn’t want to wander around Italy any longer than needed.
“Okay, what exactly did the riddle say?”
He handed her a scrap of paper where he’d written the complete message;
Take the Path of the Privileged
Past eyes that watch eternal, and blood turned precious.
Seek the tower that would not yield for the next steps of your journey.
“Get anything from that, Foster?” Keefe asked, reading over her shoulder.
“Of course not,” Sophie grumbled. “Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier so we could’ve done some research?”
He tore his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I guess I messed up.” Why couldn’t anything be simple for once.
“And you didn’t see anything else?” Keefe asked him. “You searched Foster’s mind for a while.”
“Only a few minutes,” Fitz argued.
Keefe suddenly grabbed his wrist and pressed his warm, slim fingers to the exposed skin. “Hate to break it to you, but I can tell you’re hiding something.”
“Empaths,” Fitz grumbled, trying to stop himself from blushing, or thinking about Keefe.
“Just keeping you honest. So spill. What did you see in the Mysterious Miss F.’s mind?”
He hadn’t seen anything else. That’s not what he was hiding. “Nothing else. The shit I'm hiding has nothing to do with this, or frankly any of you.”
Fitz felt bad for snapping when Keefe put his hands up, “Okay, So . . . we still need to go to Florence, right? The Black Swan told you that?” When Fitz nodded, Keefe asked Sophie, “Doesn’t your photographic memory have a few pictures of the city tucked away?”
“That doesn’t tell us where we go after that.”
“We’ll figure it out. And once we do, we’ll all smack Fitz a few times and tell the Black Swan to knock it off with the lame, non-rhyming riddles. In the meantime-” Keefe grabbed Sophie’s hand again- “we’re doing this thing!”
They’d barely locked hands before Keefe pulled them off the cliff’s edge. Thunder cracked the sky, sending them crashing into the void, they only drifted in the dark for a moment before thunder clapped again, splitting the blackness with blinding light.
They slipped through the glowing crack and tumbled into a crowded courtyard, crashing into a marble wall and collapsing in a pile.
“Still gotta work out these landings,” Keefe groaned as Fitz pushed himself off the blonde boy. He rubbed his temples as human thoughts smashed into his brain like a battering ram. It took him a second to get his barriers up, filtering out the normal human thoughts and turning them into dull white noise and filtering through them to check for supernatural activity. He’d gotten good at it through the years.
“It smells weird,” Biana said.
“Probably human pollution,” He explained.
“I don’t remember it being this strong though,” Sophie said.
“So, are we invisible?” Dex asked, watching the crowds milling around them. “Or are they just more interested in that big domed thing?” He pointed to the famous Duomo across the courtyard.
“Probably both.” He said with a smile, pulling out the obscurer from his jacket. “My dad gave me an obscurer to help us stay hidden.”
“Are you serious?” Biana asked. “Then what was the point of these ugly costumes?”
“It’s called being careful,” Fitz told her. Obsucers didn’t work all that well if they needed to stay somewhere for the night, so blending in if they needed to turn it off was important.
“Plus, I get to be Batman!” Keefe added. “But I’m done with the jacket. Why is it so hot here?”
“Too many people, not enough trees,” He said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He had no interest in taking off his jacket.
Biana ditched her sweatshirt, revealing a yellow screen-printed tee. “I liked that this one had a few girls,” she told Sophie, pointing to the group shot of the X-Men. “Even if they have super weird hair.”
“Uh, there’s a guy who has blue fur all over his body, and you’re focusing on the girls’ hair?” Keefe asked. “And hey, that clawed dude’s yellow shirt might be as tight as Fitz’s!”
Fitz couldn’t help but smile at Keefe. “Jealous?” He asked, flexing. Honestly most of his muscle mass was just the stuff he’d sustained from running for dear life. But it was helpful at times like this.
Especially when Keefe’s ears went red.
“Shouldn’t we try to figure out where we’re going?” Dex asked, shoving his sweatshirt into his satchel.
“Probably,” Keefe agreed. “But first- what is that?” He pointed to the drippy ice cream a family was devouring. “Whatever it is, I want some!”
“I think that’s gelato,” Sophie told him. “And forget it.”
“Actually, I think it’s a good idea,” Fitz said, keeping up morale wouldn’t hurt. Plus, he had cash on him, and he wanted gelato.
He also felt a stab of joy when Keefe leaned closer to Sophie and stage whispered: “In case you were wondering; that is why he’s my best friend.”
Sophie sighed. “Even if we had time, you can’t pay for it.”
Fitz smiled, pulling out a roll of bills from his jacket, “False.”
“We don’t have time for gelato!” Sophie said.
Keefe draped his arm around her shoulders. “Foster, Foster, Foster. Live a little. Also, dude, is your jacket, like, magic? Where do you keep getting this stuff?”
Fitz smiled, “Magicians secrets.”
“You know he’s going to keep pushing until he gets what he wants, right?” Biana asked.
“Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine,” Sophie mumbled. “Give me the money. I’ll be right back.”
“We’re coming with you,” Dex said.
“Uh-uh. I’m going to have to be visible to buy something. And together we’d be way too conspicuous.”
“But we’re in costume!” Biana argued.
“Yeah, but you guys will still stand out. I mean . . . look at you. You look like models.”
“Wait, is Foster saying she thinks we’re hot?” Keefe asked.
“I think she is.” And the huge grin dimpling Dex’s cheeks was practically beaming. Fitz kinda wanted to vomit.
“I’m just saying you guys will draw a lot of attention,” Sophie said. “Especially since you don’t speak Italian.”
“Actually I'm fluent.” Fitz pointed out.
Sophie turned to him, bewildered. “What?”
He nodded. “I know like thirteen different human languages, Italian being one of them.”
“You're full of surprises today Fitzy,” Keefe said, punching him in the arm.
“But,” Fitz continued, “Sophie’s right. The less we’re all seen, the better. But I’m going with her.” He handed Keefe the obscurer, ignoring the anxious look he sent him. There was no way in hell he was letting Sophie out of the obscurers range without him. He shot a meaningful look at all of them. “No one wanders off alone, the Forbidden Cities can be dangerous as fuck if your not careful.”
“Fine.” Sophie grumbled as they made their way through the tourists, “I can’t believe we’re wasting time on this.”
“I get that we’re in danger,” He said. “but that’s why I thought this was a good idea.” Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a group of girls staring at him. Discomfort brickled along his back as he lowered his voice. “I mean . . . aren’t you worried about how everyone’s holding up? Biana seems really nervous, doesn’t she? And Keefe is barely keeping it together. I’m sure Dex has to be freaking out too. So if gelato makes them happy, don’t you think that’s worth it?”
Sophie blinked. “I guess I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “But still, we’d have more time for things like gelato if you’d told me what the Black Swan’s instructions were before we left and let me work on solving the riddle.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to drive you crazy. I was worried you’d sneak away without us if I told you.”
“I just want to keep everyone safe,” she mumbled.
He really wanted to tell her that getting herself chewed up by a hellhound or snatched by Micheal or the Stranger wouldn’t help anybody, but he couldn’t. So instead he decided to just own up to his mistake. “I know. So do I. And yet we’re both making it worse. So why don’t we stop trying to do it all on our own and start acting like a team?”
Sophie paused. “So, um . . . if we’re really going to be a team, don’t you think you should tell me what you saw in my mind?”
Fitz held back a groan. The only other thing he’d learned was that Sophie had a massive crush on him. Which he already knew because it was obvious, and something he seriously didn’t want to discuss right now.
“I didn’t see as much as you’re probably thinking,” Fitz said carefully, “and I couldn’t understand it, anyway.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s hard to explain. I ended up in this crazy place Mr. Forkle called your emotional center. Now I get why Keefe’s always talking about how intense your emotions are. It was super overwhelming.”
“And that was where you were when Mr. Forkle said, ‘Remember this place. You may need it’?”
Fitz nodded. “He didn’t say why, though.”
“Of course not.”
Fitz did have a guess though- one that he wasn’t sharing with Sophie. He wouldn’t be surprised if Forkle wanted him and Sophie to be Cognates. He really wasn’t opposed to the idea, he really did like Sophie. She was like his little sister, but the whole “having a massive crush on him” thing made his skin itch.
“Think we should ask the shopkeeper if she knows about the Path of the Privileged?” Fitz asked as they peeked through the windows of the gelato shop.
“I doubt she knows,” Sophie said. “But it’s worth a try.”
Fitz felt his mouth water as they stepped into the shop. It brought back memories of going to ice cream shops with Percy, Gerry and Sirius. Gertrude always claimed that it was a waste of time and money. Gertrude was a boring fuck and lived a very sad life.
He glanced at the flavours and the boards on the walls- before spotting the best surprise yet.
They sold coffee.
He sped up his walking slightly as he reached the counter, ignoring Sophie’s questioning look.
“Good morning,” he said, giving the cashier a small smile.
The older woman gave him a smile, “Hello, what can I do for you today?”
“Well, that depends. What’s the largest size of coffee you sell?” He said. His joke seemed to land as the shopkeeper let out a small laugh.
“A large coffee? Isn’t it a little late for that?”
Fitz shook his head, smiling. “I offered to help chauffeur some of the younger kids on a school trip, let's just say I'm starting to regret the decision.” The lie came out easily. Making up random alibis was something he'd gotten good at.
The woman let out a laugh, “I get that. I have two little ones at home myself. What school are you from around here?”
“I'm American, actually, I came overseas.”
She blinked, smiling. “Could have fooled me! Your Italian is great,” she said, before turning back to the cash, “I've gone off topic haven’t I? Now, is there anything else I can get for you, beyond a coffee?”
Fitz nodded, “A large bowl of lemon gelato, and-” he turned to Sophie who was gawking at him- “What do you think the others want?”
The girl blinked, making a loud “uhhh” sound.
“I suggest melone, my personal favourite,” the shopkeeper said.
Fitz turned back to her with a smile. “Then another four bowls of melone it is.”
He watched as she heaped the gelato into five bowls, and filled up a cup of coffee. He handed over the bills, and picked up the gelato.
He shoved a massive spoonful into his mouth. The sour, sweet and tangy flavor made him smile. It was just as good as he remembered it.
“Oh, by the way, do you happen to know what the ‘Path of Privilege’ is? We have to meet up outside of it for a tour,” He asked, turning back to the shopkeeper, “but Mr. Johnson thinks he's funny by using names he hasn't taught us about, after he confiscated all of our devices.”
She smiled. “This ‘Mr. Johnson’ is probably talking about the Vasari Corridor. If you're meeting outside of it he likely meant the Plaza della Signoria. Be careful though, there was an arson last night, so it's closed. But I suggest you still watch out.”
Fitz cursed in his head for a second as he thanked the woman, and turned and headed back out onto the street.
“What was that,” Sophie said, staring at him.
“What was what?”
“You just lied, about like, fifty different things. And since when do you drink coffee,” she added, looking down at the cup in his hands. He shrugged.
“I drink it when I can, and as for the lying; you don't grow up in the nobility without getting really damn good at it.” He gave her a small smile, and sped up slightly. He didn’t like leaving those three idiots alone for too long.
Fitz hummed as he walked, taking his first swig of coffee.
Sweat caffeine, oh how I missed you.
“Fitzy!” Keefe shouted, rushing over to him, Dex and Biana close behind. “You got the stuff!”
Fitz snorted and handed Keefe the green treat as he took another gulp of coffee. This is how he made up for lack of sleep.
“Why is yours yellow?” Dex asked.
“And what are you drinking?” Biana added.
“I got a different kind of gelato, and coffee.”
Keefe glanced at Fitz’s gelato then back that the one in his hands that he'd already taken three spoonfuls of despite only getting it a second ago. “I want to try yours.”
“Absolutely not,” Fitz said, using his superior height to raise his gelato up and away from Keefe’s grubby little hands.
“Come on Fitzy, just a taste,” Keefe whined.
“No because then you're going to want mine more than yours.”
“No I won't.”
“Yes, you will.”
“No.”
“Yes-”
--------------------------------------------------
{3} Updates From The Vast
2016 | October 26th
“I'm sorry,” Ron mumbled as he followed Percy up the snowy steps of the hotel.
“For the last time Ron, I really don’t care that much, you don’t need to apologize,” The boy in front of him said. Ron was still getting used to Percy’s new hair. The bleached strands matched his, but the blue and purple tips were all Percy.
“I know,” He muttered, “I just feel bad that I was the reason you got hit with the Cruciatus Curse.”
Percy turned and gave him a smile. “I've taken worse darling,” He said with a wink.
Ron was going to die. Or melt. Or both; didn't melting count as dying?
Percy turned back around and continued up the stairs towards the hotel. The front had a sign that read “Βαθιά νερά ξενοδοχείο.” Percy had loudly complained about how “Deep Water Hotel” was an uninteresting name for a hotel, and that Simon was an “unoriginal fuck” for choosing this place to meet up.
As Percy pushed open the front doors, Ron got his first look at the white and black interior of the building. It was probably the fanciest place he had ever been and he felt completely out of place.
The receptionist didn't even look up as they walked past her. Percy led him to the far back right of the main hall, where an entrance to a sea-themed restaurant sat.
The host looked up at Percy and asked a question in Greek that Ron didn't understand. Percy answered and the host tapped a few buttons on his screen before he said something else and motioned them to follow.
The inside of the restaurant was equally as fancy as the rest of the hotel; a dark interior of dark spruce and dark leather booths. Tanks of fish and sea creatures separated each sitting area, illuminated by harsh white light- different from the dim yellow that lit the rest of the space. The whole place may have felt comfortable if it weren’t for the sheer size of it- the high ceilings and panelled walls made him feel small. Ron wouldn't doubt it if someone told him it took up half the hotel.
Though Ron was pretty sure that was expected if Vast Avatars had chosen the location.
The host led him and Percy towards the back of the restaurant and through a door to a private sitting area with a large window overlooking the dropoff of the cliff that the hotel sat on. When they finally reached the booth- the same dark leather as all the others- there were already two figures there. A man who looked like a sleep-deprived twenty five year old, and an old man who looked like he belonged in a nursing home.
“Perseus, it's so good to see you,” said the man who must be Simon as Percy slid into the booth, “how old are you now? Fourteen?”
“Fifteen,” The taller boy corrected as Ron slid into the booth. It threw Ron for a loop for a moment before he realized that Percy was right. It also meant it really had been a full year since he’d left, and that he was turning sixteen in a few months, “and don’t call me Perseus. We’ve been over this.”
“Of course,” Simon chirped, “Now shall we get onto business.”
“Yes, holy fuck we’ve been waiting forever,” the younger man grumbled.
“Sorry Mike, but we did show up at the time Simon gave us,” Percy said.
Mike whipped around to stare at Simon. “So you just dragged me here three hours early, for no fucking reason?”
“The value of punctuality can never be understated.” Simon smiled, but Ron could see the twinkle in his eyes that gave away that he was definitely fucking with Mike.
“Fuck you old man,” Mike huffed as he slouched in his seat.
“Um,” Ron said. He finally decided that it was time to cut in, Percy wasn’t the best at keeping conversations on track, and he didn’t trust either of the idiots across from him to make any attempt to, “can we get back to the reason we’re here?”
Simon smiled. “Of course,” he turned to Percy, “I know you wanted a full update on everything, but I doubt you want an in detailed report of Elias and Peter's constant divorces?”
“Yeah, I think we’ll both pass on that,” the demigod agreed.
“Major events old man,” Mike grumbled.
Simon looked ready to hit Mike with his cane. “Well, Elias recently had to get a new Archivist after Gertrude’s passing- which I’m guessing you already know of?” After he and Percy nodded, Simon continued. “His name is Jonathan Sims. Short indian chap I believe, is that right Mike?”
“Yeah, and a pathetic wet cat of a man. Honestly, if I didn't know Elias had a type I would question it more.”
Ron did not need to know that.
“What else, Simon. If that’s it I'm going to strangle you,” Percy grumbled. Apparently he agreed that they didn’t need to know the non-professional reasons Jonathan was hired.
“No need for violence today,” Simon said, waving his hands. He still had the same cheery smile but Ron could tell he was sweating. That tended to be how most people felt when Percy glared at them, “there is more. About this time last year, The Corruption attacked the Institute. One of the flesh hives-”
“-Jane Prentice,” Mike cut in.
“Yes, Mike, Jane Prentice got in. None of the Archival staff died to her, but both Jonathan and Tim Stoker were marked. Sasha James, another assistant happened to find the table the Not-Them was being stored in. We found out around three months ago that Jonathan and The Distortion of all things freed it by accident. Apparently it tore up the whole office.” Simon finished.
“That’s less than I thought happened honestly,” Percy said with a shrug.
“Oh!” Mike exclaimed. “We also got confirmation that Jorgen Leitner got beaten to death by a steel pipe!”
Ron was going to ask why that was such a big deal, but the look of sheer joy on Percy’s face stopped him. Percy honestly looked like he could get up and start dancing on the table.
Simon looked less impressed. “I believe that’s all?”
Mike nodded. “Yeah. The only other thing might be an increase in Stranger and Dark activity in and around the UK, but it’s also there stomping ground so it’s hard to know. Also,” he tossed a room key to Ron, “guessed you would want to sleep somewhere warm for the night.”
“Thanks,” Percy said, reaching over and shaking hands with Mike, “it was nice seeing you again, Mike.”
***
Ron leaned back on the large bed, listening to the shower run. He’d already showered and had changed into a pair of giftshop pants that would be more comfortable to sleep in than jeans.
It was only really just starting to sink in that he’d been away from home for a year. He’d tried his best to not think about everyone back at home, it just made him stressed and sad. He still missed them- no matter how good running away with Percy had been for him.
Thankfully it sounded like their time as homeless runaways was ticking down to an end. Percy had figured out through his sources- which was really just Oliver Banks- that Trevor Herbert and Julia Montawk currently had the Catalogue of The Dead.
When Percy had first told him three months ago about the idea of reviving Gerry, Ron had thought he was insane, but after he’d explained the whole plan- thankfully it was a plan this time and not a half-thought out idea- Ron couldn’t help but think it could actually work.
Then it was back to London, where most entity activity seemed to be happening. And so the both of them could see their families again.
His visions had gotten better. Kind of. He still saw them, but at least they seemed to only happen at night, were far less frequent and they were longer and clearer than before. Which was a good and bad thing- because the ones he did have were nightmare inducing and finding out Harry had been drawn into the Triwizard tournament didn’t help with the visions of roaring dragons and a deadly maze.
Percy had taught him a trick that the Oracle at Camp Half-blood used; treating the ‘energy’ that made the visions as something that could be stored and expended. Percy had also told him that he likely didn’t have control over massive outbursts of energy- where things like Prophecy's would be spoken, but it would make the visions less frequent and let him use the energy he had to See properly into the important ones.
Which was another reason he was starting to want to go home. Having wrangled his Seer abilities, and the Lonely off his back as much as it could be, the only thing left was his family.
The other weasleys may have ignored him a lot, but Ron knew it wasn’t done out of malice; just like the twins’ pranks weren’t. He just wasn’t anything that his siblings weren’t- a fact Percy had argued against multiple times. He was scared that if he went back, he would just get yelled at and everything would go back to normal.
“Ron?” He blinked, glancing up at Percy. He hadn’t noticed that the other boy was already changed; wearing a hoodie and pants. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, looking back down at the bed, “just thinking.”
Percy hummed as he climbed into the bed. “Thinking about what?”
Ron paused for a second, before deciding that there was no point in lying. Percy could read him like a book. “That I might go back to my family, only to find out that nothing ever changed.”
Percy frowned and moved closer to him, resting his head against Ron’s chest. “If it hasn’t, I’ll still be here,” Percy murmured looking up at Ron. He couldn’t help but notice how long Percy’s hair had gotten- and how grown out his black roots were, “and I’ll kick the twins asses if their dicks to you.”
Ron let out a laugh, rolling over on his side so he was facing Percy. The boy smiled at him, resting their foreheads together. “I’ll always be there for you,” he murmured.
Percy moved again, pressing against Ron and wrapping his arms around him. Ron could feel the boy’s breath ticking the hairs on his neck as Percy nuzzled his shoulder. Ron reached out and wrapped his arms around Percy, letting himself relax into his warmth. He pressed his face into Percy’s warm curls, the comforting scent of sea water and the awful pine-scented hotel shampoo filling his nose.
He didn’t even notice he had fallen asleep until he blinked open his eyes to the dawn light streaming through the curtains, and looking down, Percy was still curled up against him.
It was the first time in months neither of them had had a nightmare.
--------------------------------------------------
{4} Bang Bang Bang
2016 | November 22nd
“I'm guessing this is the part where you demand to know how we found you,” Fintan said as Brant moved to block their path from behind. The Everblaze flamed brighter with their slightest movement, making it clear that pain would follow any attempt at escape. “You keep forgetting that this was our plan from the beginning,” Fintan added. “Well- not the flood. You managed to surprise us with that one. And you stopped us from infecting Brackendale and Merrowmarsh. But the rest has gone like clockwork.”
Biana stepped in front of Calla, shielding her from the fire. “How could you do this to the gnomes? After everything they’ve done for the Lost Cities?”
“To expose the Council’s lies,” Brant said. “Now everyone knows how much they hide, and how little protection they truly give their people.”
“Which accomplishes what?” Sophie asked. “All you’ve done is make people afraid.”
“Indeed, Miss Foster,” Fintan agreed. “And fear is the world’s greatest motivator. Look at the power your group harnessed today as a result of your terror.” His eyes roved to Keefe as he added, “That was your mother’s mistake. She surrendered to her fear, and it cost her everything.”
“Including her life?” Sophie asked.
“Interesting that the question does not come from her son,” Fintan noted.
“That’s because I don’t care about her!” Keefe said.
Fintan smiled. “I suppose it wouldn’t matter, then, if I told you she’s currently locked in an ogre prison? And that your role in today’s invasion surely earned her a death sentence?”
“You’re lying,” Keefe said, his voice cracking.
“Not this time,” Brant told him. “We’re the ones who sealed her in her cell.”
“I suppose there’s a chance we could barter her freedom,” Fintan said. “But we’d need proper motivation.”
Brant said something else after that, but Sophie couldn’t listen. When he spoke, all she could see were his new scars. She’d thought his handsome features had been ruined before. Now they were gone.
One of his ears.
Parts of his lips and chin.
Most of his jet-black hair.
His face was more scar tissue than face. And that didn’t include the mottled, veiny stump at the end of his right wrist where his hand used to be.
“Why, Miss Foster, you don’t look happy to see me,” he said, adding more flames to his fireball. “Didn’t you swear you would find me again? I’ve been looking forward to thanking you for my makeover. You too,” he told Dex. “I have excellent things planned for you both.”
“No offense,” Fitz cut in, “I don’t think anyone would be happy to see your ugly mug.”
“Yeah,” Keefe chimed in, “have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“RUN!” Lihn shouted as a wave crashed over Brant. They’d barely made it a step before a wall of fire erupted in their path.
“That’s quite enough of that,” Fintan said, curling the fire into a circle, closing them inside a cage of Everblaze.
“You can stop wasting your energy on water tricks,” Brant told Linh. “You’ve complicated things enough already. Luckily, we’ve had eyes on you this whole time.”
“What does that mean?” Sophie asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Alvar said. “What do you want from us?”
The two Pyrokinetics shook their heads.
“I told you, Mr. Vacker,” Fintan said. “The charade is over. I spent weeks in Exile. I let my mind be broken. I let them declare me dead. I’m not going to hide anymore. It’s time you make your choice. Stand with us, or turn against us.”
“What?” Keefe said as the walls of Everblaze flared brighter, painting everything in its eerie yellow glow.
Fitz stared at Alvar for a moment before his features hardened. “It means my fuckhead of a brother is working for the Neverseen, doesn't it?”
Fintan let out a laugh, “Your brother is one of our longest standing members. Youngest to ever enlist- though he made a lot of mistakes back then. One especially big one. I honestly didn’t think anyone would put it together.” Fintan’s eyes flicked to Sophie, and his meaning sank in.
Dex held her steady as she wheeled on Alvar. “You were the Boy Who Disappeared?!”
The words seemed to shatter whatever remained of Alvar’s facade. He smoothed his hair and shed his soggy cloak as he said, “Yes.”
“And you knew?” Biana whispered as she stared at Fitz.
He shook his head. “That he was up to something? Yeah,” he looked at Alvar, “You left too many times to just be looking for Sophie. And,” he added, “I saw you in Greece talking to who I’m guessing is Ruy? You aren't nearly as stealthy as you think you were. I just hoped it was some shady shit with the council, or hell just human stuff, not this.”
“How could you,” Biana whispered.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Alavr said loo.
“Try me,” Fitz told him.
“You really wouldn’t understand,” Alvar snapped. “You’re the Golden Son. I had to find people who appreciated my talents.”
“More like overestimating them,” Brant muttered. “You had her right in front of you, and you walked away. Scratched her off the list.”
“You want to compare mistakes?” Alvar snapped. “Ruy let both of them get away a few weeks back. And let’s not forget the worst kidnapping in the history of kidnappings.”
“You were there?” Dex asked, shaking so hard Tam and Linh had to keep him steady.
“Of course he was,” Fintan said. “He helped plan it.”
Sophie reached for Fitz, relieved when he didn’t pull away. She had no idea how the Vackers were going to survive another family tragedy.
“Of course you were,” Fitz whispered, glaring daggers at Alvar, “You’ve always been like this, haven’t you? How long did I just not see it.” he sounded more like he was saying that last part to himself.
“Been like what?” Alvar snapped, “Resourceful? Willing to do what it takes?”
“An un-empathic asshole who doesn’t give a shit about anyone about himself. Who’s willing to hurt anyone to get what he wants,” Fitz said. He let out a laugh, “God, it’s so obvious looking back on it.”
“How dare you. What do you know about how it feels to be ignored by your family? To be nothing more then a bug under their shoe-”
“Shut the fuck up for a minute, will you?” Fitz snapped, “Seriously. Don’t blame me and Biana for the shit the extended family has pulled, and don’t act like shit hasn’t hit the fan for us either. Don’t act like you give a damn about bettering our world, because all you do is play the victim instead of trying to help yourself. Instead of trying to get out of a shitty situation, you just make it a whole lot worse for every other victim of it.”
“At least I can do what it takes-”
BANG!
Sophie jumped back at the gunshot, her ears ringing from the noise. Alvar was crying and on the ground, clutching his leg- which was now pouring blood.
And Fitz was standing there holding the still-smoking pistol. He tilted his head to look at Alvar, “You know so little about what actually happened in my life that I don’t think you have a right to tell me anything about ‘doing what it takes’.”
BANG!
The second shot rang out, slamming straight into the silver chest and making the whole thing explode with a POP! Chunks of shrapnel flew at Fintan, Alvar and Brant, embedding itself in their arms and legs. Anything that would have hit Sophie or her friends hit the ground before reaching them.
“That,” Fintan hissed out, wincing as he moved his arm, “was a very dumb move.”
“If that’s how you want to play,” Brant said, “then I’m more than happy to take part.” A wall of flames shot towards Fitz. Use your pendant to get out, Fitz’s transmission cut through her head like a knife, but Sophie couldn’t do anything but watch as he was covered in the glowing flames.
For a horrible second, Kenric flashed past her eyes. She couldn’t lose another person.
Then the flames died, and there stood Fitz, unharmed. Small glowing dots on the joints Sophie could just make out already fading back into his skin.
“What the hell?” Brant muttered, confusion clouding his face.
“My turn fucker.”
DO IT NOW SOPHIE!
This time she got what he was saying as he reached for her Black Swan pendant.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The bullets hit dirt, but the moment of distraction was enough as Sophie launched another beam of her own fire and parted the wall of Everblaze.
“Time to go!” she screamed, dragging her friends through the gap. Flames nipped at her skin, but she barely felt them.
“Is there a cliff nearby?” she asked Tam and Linh as they ran.
“No need,” Calla said.
She belted out a song that made one of the withered trees bend down and tangle its branches around their feet. A quick THWANG! snapped the tree back, whipping them into the sky. They clung to each other as they soared higher and higher.
As soon as they started to drop, Sophie split a crack in the sky.
The last thing she saw was Alvar’s pained expression as he clutched his bleeding leg as they slipped into the void and teleported away.
***
She held tight to Grady and Edaline’s hands as she gave a brief summary of the havoc they’d caused in Ravagog. The adults’ eyes seemed to widen with each dangerous detail. Their fear turned to fury when she moved on to the further chaos with the Neverseen, and Sophie pulled Grady closer so he wouldn’t try to go after Brant.
Alden hailed the Council and asked them to send someone to extinguish the Everblaze and start cleaning up the toxins that would’ve leaked into the valley from the ogres’ tainted river. Then he hailed Mr. Forkle-As-Sir-Astin and told him the Collective should gather at Havenfield.
Sophie decided to wait until everyone had arrived before revealing the devastating truth about the gnomish cure. But Alden deserved to receive the news about Alvar in the privacy of close friends.
“There’s something else I have to tell you,” she mumbled. “But first, I need you to promise that your mind is strong enough to handle it.”
Alden glanced at Fitz and Biana before he nodded.
“Wait,” Elwin said, handing Alden a vial filled with clear liquid. “This will take the edge off reality, if you need it.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” Fit muttered. Sophie couldn’t tell if he was joking, but Elwin handed him a clear vial anyway.
“Surely the news can’t be that bad,” Alden said.
“It is,” Biana whispered, reaching for her dad. “Alvar’s part of the Neverseen.”
The vial slipped from Alden’s hand, hitting the grass with a soft thud. Elwin tried to hand it back to him, but Alden waved the elixir away. “You’re sure?” he whispered.
“Positive,” Fitz mumbled, fiddling with the vial in his hands. “He was also one of Sophie’s kidnappers.”
Alden wobbled as the words hit him, and Biana helped him sit on the grass. Elwin tried again to make him take the elixir, but Alden waved the medicine away, calling Fitz to come closer. Sophie expected him to climb into his Dad’s arms, but instead he shook his head, downing the vial and stumbling away towards a hill, Keefe following after him.
Dex turned to Sophie with a look like, Do something. Grady and Edaline looked just as helpless. Even Tam- who could’ve been smug, since he’d never trusted Alvar- wiped tears from his silvery eyes and held his sister’s hand.
Sophie just wandered over to where Keefe and Fitz were sitting.
“Alvar was my hero,” she heard Keefe whisper as she plopped down next to Fitz.
“Just because you love someone doesn’t make them good,” Fitz muttered, flopping back onto the grass, letting his eyes slide shut.
Sophie just looked at him for a few minutes. She never noticed how tired he looked before. Or maybe she was just seeing him in a different light now after everything.
“How are you feeling,” She asked him, “about the whole ‘shooting Alvar’ thing.”
Keefe flinched and Fitz just shrugged. “He made his choice, and I reacted. I'm not going to feel bad about injuring or killing someone who tried to kidnap and murder my friends.” He opened his eyes and let them flick over to her. “At some point, it's you or them, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure it's them.”
Sophie's brain was still stuck on “killing.” Is what Fitz though it would come down to? Kill or be killed? “He's still your brother-”
“No, no he's not,” Fitz answered, lying back on the grass.
Keefe frowned. “I mean, he is though? You can’t change your family-”
Fitz snorted, cutting him off. “There’s an old human sang, ‘Blood runs thicker than water.’ Most people take it to mean that blood- your family, is more important than any connection you forge outside of it,” he let out a laugh, “The truth is it means the exact opposite. ‘Blood of the covenant runs thicker than the waters of the womb,’ the connections formed in battle- your chosen family- will always matter more than those you are born to.”
He gazed at the sky. “I was lucky enough that my family- the ones I choose, the ones who matter, included those I'm related to. Now, it doesn't.” He turned to look at her. “Alvar choose his side, and I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through his head if he fucks with the people I care about.”