KEEFER Of The Lost Cities

Exile- Finding Out About Alden's Mind Breaking in Keefe's POV

After Keefe and his dad had run into Foster earlier, Keefe couldn't stop the well of shame that kept unexplainably rising in him. His father had spent every performance scolding him instead of watching, and Keefe just wanted to scream in his face to tell him to just leave.

It made him hurt to know that Foster knew what kind of person he was related to. It made him hurt to see the pity in her eyes, to feel the pity coming from her. 

It made him happy to feel the surge of anger rising toward Lord Cassius, and if her anger was a flame, he wanted to fan it. He knew very well he could play every prank in existence on his father, but he always knew he couldn't do anything. It made him feel hopeless.

The elite prodigies dance was just ending, and his dad was still going on, "How do you think any of your teachers will take you seriously?" He felt a burst of panic, like something horrible just happened, and he swayed. His dad broke off mid-sentence. "Keefe?"

Foster. "I have to go." Keefe turned and ran towards the panic, almost unable to think anything through the horrible feeling but Foster. He found her walking away from Sandor, hands clenched into fists. 

He caught up to her. "Whoa—what's going on, Foster? I can feel your panic from, like, halfway across the courtyard."

 "I . . . I don't know." Keefe's heart hurt from her feelings, but he didn't jerk away from the pain, only leaned closer to her. 

Sophie swallowed, hands trembling as she explained. "We were watching the dance and..." She took a shaky breath, wiping her hand across her eyes. "Alden collapsed, and he wouldn't get up. He was so pale, and he was shaking, and there was nothing I could do, and it's my-" Tears leaked out of her eyes, and her lip trembled. Keefe wanted to wipe the tears away, but kept his hands by his side.

"Hey—it's okay," Keefe said, raising his arms to hug her. Should he? No. It was too early in their friendship. He dropped his hands awkwardly before pushing his hood back to rumple his hair. "Alden's going to be fine. Remember—Elwin's a genius. Look at how many times he's brought you back from the dead." 

He meant it as a joke but as soon as he said the word, "dead", a hurricane of dread fluttered through her and he immediately regretted it. 

"If you'd seen how pale Alden looked . . . ," she whispered. 

"Yeah, I'm sure it was pretty scary. But trust me, Sophie—nothing was scarier than the way you looked when you were fading away. I really didn't think . . ." He could feel a lump growing, stopping him from being able to speak. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, my point is, Elwin got you back to normal. If he could do that, he can do anything." 

Sophie started to nod, but he could tell her mind was spiraling and the panic wasn't lessening.

"Hey," Keefe said, stepping closer, waiting for her sparkling brown eyes to lock onto his. "Don't worry, okay? Am I ever wrong?" 

"Yes." 

"That hurts, Foster." But he felt relief that she was okay to joke.(Because there's no way she wouldn't be joking lol)"And I'm right about this. Elwin will fix everything, I promise."

 "Come on, Miss Foster," Sandor said quietly from behind him. "I need to get you back to Havenfield. Your parents might already be waiting for you."

"He's right," Keefe told her. "Go home. And plan on me giving you a great big 'I told you so' tomorrow." He smiled at her. She held up her crystal, and Keefe reached for her hand like he was going to grab it, but at the last second, he pulled back and gave her a small salute instead, promising that he'd check on the Vackers the next day. Keefe, why would you do that?