Keeper of the Lost Cities: Rebuild [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty-Nine - KEEFE

"If I were this dude, I would have totally called myself Tarzan," Keefe said as he and Biana gazed up at the house in the silver tree. The angry vines draping across the branches coiled around the quip and squeezed it tight, until he could practically hear the tension, a high-pitched thrum at the base of his skull.

"Probably shouldn't joke about dead guys," he murmured, stepping toward the base of the twisting staircase. Biana was standing there, staring at the ground like she was seeing a ghost.

Or a memory.

Keefe's dulling lifted almost subconsciously, as if it could sense his will before he spoke it. The thrumming in his head grew shriek-ier as Biana's emotions wafted from her body.

"Okay, maybe we shouldn't have done this," he said, stepping forward and resting a hand on her shoulder. At this point he turned the dulling back on; physical touch and his ability didn't go so well together.

"It's fine," Biana said, jerking away. She forced her gaze to the surrounding forest with visible effort and scanned the clearing. "You're sure the Councillors are gone?"

Keefe nodded. "I can't feel anyone's emotions but yours."

They were absolutely, one-hundred percent alone. He had secretly checked ten times.

"Seriously, how did the Navik guy live like this?" he asked, craning his neck to look at the base of the house. "It's so... quiet." A bird cawed just then, as if to scream NOT! He ignored it. "I mean, I could see the appeal for maybe a week—since no one's around to see you swinging from tree to tree naked. But that gets boring after a while."

"Are you talking about the monkey guy?" Biana asked, scrunching up her nose. "I didn't like that movie. One of the worst slumber parties of Team Sparkles to date." She smiled a little at their group name—it had been her idea—but after a moment it fell.

Keefe considered un-dulling his ability again and going all Empathy-lie-detector on her, but he figured that would be too invasive. Plus, he'd promised the Council he would be "reasonable" with his ability. There weren't strict guidelines for it like with Telepathy, since he was the only one that had it, but the Council was the Council.

Some things never change, he thought, looking one last time at the tree house. It reminded him of the ones at Alluveterre. He hadn't seen the former Black Swan hideout since they had retaken it from the Neverseen, but his photographic memory provided every detail.

That was back before his world had come crashing down. It had been the start of the spiral, but he could have climbed back up.

He remembered wanting to. Every time he would let down his mask, even for just a moment, Sophie would look at him with pity and fear and determination.

It had made him want to be determined to.

For her.

But he wasn't Sophie Foster. He was the son of the Neverseen's leader, a product of the Lodestar Initiative, later a product of Project Stellarlune. He had been made to be someone else.

Fighting against it had been no use.

So he'd left.

That was the first time he recalled Sophie's trust fracturing.

But despite his mistakes, she ended up loving him still.

Now, though, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if something had changed again.

"Are you coming?" Biana called from halfway up.

Keefe snapped out of his thoughts and ran to catch up to her. "I honestly—don't see the—point—in this!" he said through gasps of breath. On his last step he reached over Biana's head to hold the door open for her. "Don't you think the Council has already found any clues? If there are any, that is?"