Sophie tried to listen to the rest, but she kept staring at the bead in Keefe’s necklace. He’d chosen a Panakes blossom, which Calla had said could heal anything.
As she stared longer at the intricate flower, she noticed tiny letters painted into one of the petals—the same petal that had hidden the crystal that saved her.
Trust me.
Mr. Forkle cleared his throat, reminding her she wasn’t alone.
“You’re not alone,” he said, making her wonder if he’d been eavesdropping on her thoughts. “And I think it’s important for you to know that as you enter this next phase in your life. You’re back in the Lost Cities. Back under the watchful eye of the Council. Returning to the routines of Foxfire. And I’m sure everything that’s happened will make you question who’s truly on your side. So I think it’s time to finally answer a certain question you keep asking, don’t you, Granite?”
“I do,” Granite said, though he sounded wary.
They each pulled a small vial from their cloak pockets. Sophie didn’t recognize the green liquid in the bottle Granite held. But she definitely recognized the callowberries in Mr. Forkle’s hand.
She gasped as he popped one into his mouth and swallowed. Granite coughed and spluttered as he downed his elixir. For five seconds nothing happened. Then their bodies started shifting and shrinking. The process looked painful as their features tightened and twisted into their rightful places.
Sophie tried to guess which faces would soon stare back at her, but when the shift was complete, she discovered how wrong she’d been.
“You?” she whispered, not sure which of them stunned her more.
Mr. Forkle had turned into the tall, black-haired Magnate Leto, her Principal at Foxfire.
And Granite’s rocky features had dissolved into the olive-toned complexion and blond hair of Sir Tiergan, her telepathy Mentor.
“Yes,” they said, looking both proud and shy.
“The surest way to protect you was to be in your life,” Tiergan told her, “even if it meant resorting to deception.”
“So that means . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence, her mind splitting in too many different directions. All the times Sir Tiergan had helped her or guided her, all of Magnate Leto’s strange looks and probing questions.
It seemed so obvious now—but also so impossible to wrap her head around.
“Is anyone who they really say they are?” Sophie asked, sinking back onto her bed.
“Yes,” Magnate Leto—Mr. Forkle—whatever she was supposed to call him—told her. “You are, and always will be, Sophie Foster.”
“And we will continue to watch over you. Which is why we’ve chosen to reveal ourselves. We want you to know that you’re never alone,” Granite-as-Tiergan said. “We’re always here in one form or another. All you have to do is trust us.”
That was what Keefe was asking for too, along with the final words he’d said to her.
Please don’t hate me.
The request had never felt more impossible. But Sophie decided in that moment that she was going to grant it. She may not understand what he was doing. But she couldn’t hate Keefe.
“There’s the determination I’ve come to know so well,” Mr. Forkle-as-Magnate-Leto said with a smile. “So let me leave you by sharing some encouraging news as well. Something to prove we are making progress. We have a long road ahead of us, with many challenges on the horizon—”
“This is supposed to be encouraging?” Sophie interrupted.
Mr. Forkle-as-Magnate-Leto sighed. “You kids are so impatient.”
Sophie smiled at his familiar phrasing and motioned for him to continue.
“As I was saying,” he said, “the tides are turning in our favor. Our losses have been small, and our gains have been great. Especially since Mr. Tam agreed to a favor this morning.” He paused to smile at Granite-Tiergan before turning back to Sophie. “As of this morning, Prentice is awake.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Okay, I know you probably started reading this secretly hoping it was the beginning of Book #5, but alas. IT WILL BE WORTH THE WAIT, I PROMISE.
(Unless you’re one of my future fans, reading this when the book is already out—in which case, why are you still here? Go get Book #5!)
This is why I love you guys so much. You make me wish I could write even faster, so there’d never be a delay between books. But since I haven’t manifested that ability—and have yet to find a TARDIS—thank you for your patience and enthusiasm and devotion and letters and fan art and cupcakes and all the other incredible things you do to prove that I have the Best. Readers. EVER.