Keeper of The Lost Cities: Book 9: Showdown

Chapter 5 - Keefe's POV

I wake up early the next morning. In my haste and Foster's transmitting, I forgot to close the blinds. Radiant early morning light seeps through the windows, illuminating the room. I slowly got out of bed and go through my usual morning routine.

Since Liam hasn't woken up yet, I decided to do him a favor and cook breakfast. As much as everyone thinks, I'm decent enough at cooking. Holding a carton of eggs in one of my hands, orange juice in the other, and everything else I need with telekinesis, I fire up the stove and start breaking, mixing, and scrambling. By the time Liam does come out, I have a plate laden with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. Whistling and dancing around, I slide the plate and a cup of orange juice in front of him. He looks surprised.

"Heyo, mate - woah, what's this? You made breakfast!"

I smirk my signature smirk and shrug. What do you know, I did make breakfast! Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and a cup of coffee! I slide into my own chair, armed with a similar plate, only I have orange juice. We both dig in.

"Wow," Liam says after a couple of bites. "Even my mother didn't make eggs this good, and she won Masterchef!" he starts eating vigorously. I just smile and continue. After a little while, Liam starts to talk again. "So, mate, my father will want to see you today. I've already told him all about you, and so he asked us to drop by today. We were planning on taking you on a tour of London, and then to eat at night. It'll be a busy day, but hey! It's fun!"

After we finished eating, we got ready to go outside. Liam let me borrow a jacket (it was cold outside), and he had a pretty sweet car. We got in and while we were going to Oxford, Liam pointed out more places. Then he asked a question.

"Mate, were you always deaf?"

I actually didn't have a problem answering. I had already drafted an excuse. No... not really. I've always been mute, but I could hear at one point in time. Then... then I was in an accident.

"Ouch, you weren't hurt too bad?"

I shook my head. Some shrapnel flew into one of my eardrums. The doctors said that if they didn't get it out, I would die, but if I did get it out, then I would lose my hearing.

"Oh... mate, I'm sorry," Liam turns his eyes away from the traffic and turns to look at me.

It's been ten years, I signed.

"No one else got hurt, right?" Liam's voice drips with concern, and for a second, I'm reminded of Elwin.

Another shake of my head. No one else.

"Good." Suddenly his eyes brighten and light up. "Oh jolly, look, there's Oxford," he points to a huge old-fashioned, prestigious-looking building, with minarets and domes. There was a huge courtyard in the middle.

Liam parked the car, and we walked into the art building. Liam led the way to a cluttered art studio, which was empty of people, save for a person with dark-brown slightly-curly hair. He kind of had a long face, and his blue-slightly-green eyes were scrunched together in concentration.

"Hey, pops! Look who I brought!" The man looked up, and his smile brought out several dimples on his face. His eyes shone with happiness, and once again, I was transported back to Elwin. All this guy needed was the spectacles.

"Hey, there! You must be Tristan!" for half a nanosecond, I almost look around wondering who Tristan was. Then I remembered that Tristan was me. I nod my head and step forward, hand extended. He shakes my hand genuinely. "I'm Dr. Daniel."

Liam catches his dad up on me, while I wander around the room. Then 5 minutes later, they beckon me over.

"Let's see you draw something, eh?" Dr. Daniel hands me a charcoal pencil and some paper. I don't like using charcoal pencils, because they are thick and they smudge, so I take the paper and shake my head at the pencil he offers, picking up an extremely thin pencil - one that feels like it'll break even if I hold it. Yes, this one will do. I quickly set the paper down and let my hands work. I decide not to draw Sophie, this time, but instead, I draw the Vackers - all of them. Alden, Della, Fitz, and Biana. I leave Alvar out. The Vackers start to take shape on the page, in all their finery and glory. In fifteen minutes, I'm done. I turn the page over to the Daniels and watch their jaws drop.

Dr. Daniel's voice is filled with awe as he slowly asks, "Who... who are these people?"

I point to Fitz on the page. That was my best friend, I sign, and his sister, mom, and dad. I point to each of them respectively.

"Your drawing... it's just... wow... " he looked like he didn't know what to make of it. "How long have you been drawing?"

I actually don't know. Since I was twelve?

"Ok, well, in order to get into Oxford, you'd have to take several exams, have a high school diploma, and whatever. But if you come and see us every day, I bet we could mass together enough credits for you to graduate with a bachelor's degree."

I actually have no idea what half those words mean, so I just decide to roll with it. I nod my head.

Liam and his dad continue to chat and finalize results. I draw (because why not?). When they're done, Liam hugs his dad goodbye and we head out.

"Pops is going to meet us again at 12:30," he says against the wind. We're in the courtyard, walking to Liam's car. His blonde hair is cleverly mused by the wind as if the wind is doing that especially for him. "Until then, I just have some errands to do."

You can take me to the apartment and then do your work, I signed. I don't want to be in the way.

The car ride back home is silenced. No one tries to make any small talk, we just sit and dwell on the day's events.

When I get back, I take my time going to my room, grabbing a glass of water before I go. Liam's living room has floor-to-ceiling windows, staging the entire London skyline. I stand there for some time, wondering if you could ever have something like this in the Lost Cities. I head to my room when I hear a voice.

"You kids always like making things hard," whoever it is, they sound dangerously close to Mr. Forkle. What's he doing in my room? I slowly open the door to my room and see - yep, it's him - Mr. Forkle sitting on the bed. I start to shake my head fiercely and try to close the door. It's time to leave another city behind - for the fourth time. But this is the first time the Black Swan has contacted me. But Mr. Forkle's foot comes in the doorway, stopping the door from closing - and judging by the wince of his face, I'm probably hurting his foot too. I release the door and walk back to the kitchen. I'm not risking my voice on anyone - not even the Forkle, so I start to transmit instead.

If you're here to convince me to come home, it's not working.

Mr. Forkle gives me a sad smile. "I never started to try."

And it'll never work either. I wave my hand at the table and gesture for him to take a seat, while I continue to wander around the kitchen.

"Let me ask you a question, Keefe." I freeze. Mr. Forkle rarely uses my first name. I've always been Mr. Sencen. "How many times do you think Ms. Foster would have left us if she ran away every single time she got a dangerous ability?"

I hate it when people have a point.

"There's a difference. Sophie had mentors. Her abilities weren't new," My voice is quiet when I speak - so much so that I barely hear myself. Of course, Mr. Forkle hears. "The best excuse for a mentor that I had was Councillor Noland, Councillor Oralie, and Kesler."

"Sophie's the only teleporter-"

"Her ability wasn't dangerous." I fill a glass with water, drink a huge gulp, and dump the rest into a plant. "Mine. Is." 

Mr. Forkle flinches when my steely stare meets his. Leave, I transmit. Please. I'm sorry.

Mr. Forkle nods his head and slowly gets up from his seat at the table. I don't mean to push him away like that but I don't want to hurt him - or anyone else. My vision is blurred - oh, no, wait, it's called tears. As Mr. Forkle approaches the door, he slowly turns around. Not enough to meet each other's eyes, but just enough for me to know he's turned around.

She's not what she used to be, his transmission sounding soft. He turns around and leaves. I don't need to be a genius to understand who "she" is. I walk to my bedroom and collapse on the bed. Liam finds me there two and a half hours later. He just pokes his head through the doorway, then leaves.