The Neverseen's Last Resort

64

Keefe

The door slammed shut and Keefe flinched as the noise echoed in his ears. He couldn't deny it; he was crying. He never cried. Not in front of Sophie, not his father, not anyone. But it hurt. So bad it hurt. Sophie was furious with him. She'd been annoyed, worried, and even angry with him before, which was all deserved in its own way. And while it was definitely frustrating to have something personal kept from you by even your closest friends, which he knew from experience, he was only doing it to protect her.

Everything he was doing was for Sophie, and he just wished she could understand that. If she found out one thing, that would only lead to more questions, giving only a matter of time before the full story slipped out and Keefe would have to tell Sophie about Biana, Elwin, Oralie, even Alvar was important to Sophie now. And he'd have to tell her about it all, all the devastating losses they'd had in the time she'd been gone.

If only she could understand, and while he could use Sophie's enhancing to help calm her, he didn't dare, lest something else go wrong. The sound of footfalls silenced Keefe's cries, and he wiped the tears before either Ruewens could catch him. No one had ever seen him cry before, and he intended to keep things that way. He was Keefe, the funny, optimistic, jokester with amazing hair and the world's best smirk. He couldn't ruin that reputation with a couple of lame tears. So, he pulled his pathfinder from his pocket and disappeared into the light.

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Keefe wasn't entirely sure where he'd wanted to end up, but Everglen had probably been the last place on his mind. While he knew Alden and Della were still out, Della having been injured in the battle, he knew Fitz had to be home at that point. Biana was still there, after all. Keefe reached for his pathfinder again, eager to escape the palace-like place that seemed to glow even brighter with the now setting sun, but as he did so, he stopped.

A girl's shriek pierced the air, though sounded nothing like Biana. Startled, Keefe raced towards the house. Was it the Neverseen again? Keefe groaned, so done with them. Why couldn't they just give up yet? Pushing past the large gates to the property, Keefe raced into the home without even bothering to knock. While it could've easily been something less than important, he didn't want to risk anything. He'd already risked enough.

"BIANA!"

Keefe jumped the stairs two at a time until he reached the second story, scanning the floor for any sign of Fitz, or Biana, or even a Neverseen member. Eventually, his eyes found a door--the only opened door on that floor-- and a series of panicked whimpers sounded from inside. Keefe made his way there, pushing away the images his brain conjured up, most involving Biana and lots of... red.

Peering into the room, Keefe found a trembling Fitz standing over Biana's bedroom window. Oh, the girl he'd heard screaming had been Fitz. Too bad this was probably something bad, meaning Keefe wouldn't be allowed to make any jokes about it.

"Fitz?" Keefe said as he entered the room to comfort his friend. Their relationship was still very slippery at the moment, but Keefe was determined to change that. "Where's Biana? What's wrong?"

No answer. Fitz only continued to stare below the window, but as far as Keefe could tell, there wasn't a splat! in sight, thankfully. But Biana was noticeably absent from the room, making Keefe wonder...

"She's gone."

Keefe looked up to see his friend's vengeful eyes, burning with fury. He'd seen that before. That had been the same fury Sophie had had when she'd spoken to Keefe. And she'd had every right to do so, as Keefe might've done the same if the roles were swapped. But that wasn't his focus right now.

"Are you talking about Biana?" He asked, feeling bile pool in his throat.

Fitz didn't give a real answer, only repeating the same thing: "She's gone."

Gone? Biana was... He swallowed, his stomach dropping as if he were free falling. She was gone. And it was the Neverseen's fault. That question brought another, much more terrifying thought into light: Had Sophie been part of it? No, he wanted to say. Her emotions were to genuine---to raw---to be fake. But emotions didn't exactly mean she hadn't lost her memories. Her emotions could be genuine, her confusion coming from that of her altered memories.

Keefe wanted to race back to Havenfield, and check on Sophie. But... Fitz needed him. His best friend needed him. So Keefe stayed right where he was, squeezing his friend's shoulder in reassurance.

"We'll get her back," he promised Fitz, though he knew the words were lost in Fitz's scrambling thoughts. His entire body shook with rage, his mind probably swirling with thoughts and worries. And why wouldn't he? Even Keefe couldn't back up his promise with solid, comforting proof. Instead, all they had was hope, and each other. It was a start.

"How?"

It took a moment to register the words, as Fitz still hadn't moved. But the words were his, and it took another moment to find his voice when Keefe answered, though the words weren't as comforting as he'd hoped. Instead, "I'm not sure," slipped out of his mouth. Fitz's emotions pulsed through Keefe, and Keefe quickly added, "But we'll figure it out," before Fitz could let his anger get the better of him.

The two stood there for what felt like ages, before Fitz finally let his knees cave and he slid to the floor. His eyes were puffy and red, though Keefe had yet to see any tears fall himself. Apparently, Keefe wasn't the only one who didn't cry in front of others. Fitz let out a choked sob, barely breathing through his tears.

"I'm sure she's fine. The won't hurt her; they might want to use her as a bargaining chip."

Fitz made a noise between a scoff and a grunt at Keefe's words. "Great. My sister is in the hands of murderers! Oh, and maybe once they're done torturing her, they'll let us have her back!--as long as they get what they want, of course. Because then they'll kill her!"

The sarcasm hit hard, but Keefe remained quiet. One thing Keefe had learned many years ago, was to listen rather than argue or reason with someone who was confessing their problems. No one liked to be told they were wrong---especially when already in a fowl mood. So Keefe played along, soaking up every insult and sarcastic rant Fitz threw his way.

The two sat there for a while, their thoughts filling the awkward silence. It hurt, to see his best friend so upset. Once again, the words that would forever haunt him, returned: Useless, useless, useless. Tired. He was so tired of letting the Neverseen win. He was tired of them hurting his friends, his... Well, not his family. Still. They'd already taken so much, and Keefe wished they could, for once, have one thing go right without having to suffer any consequences.

They had Sophie back, but was everything worth it? Elwin's death? Biana's kidnapping? Keefe pulled his friend into a side hug, for his own comfort, this time. Again, he found himself thinking back to that time Biana had first found him in New York. If only he could go back, he could do it all over again. He could fix things. He could stop the Black Swan from going to that stupid meeting. If only he could prevent that one thing, he could change everything---likely for the better, considering they weren't too far from rock bottom.

"I promise, Fitz," he said, hands squeezing into balls of his own anger. "We'll get Biana back. Even more, we'll make them pay. For everything." Ever since day one, they'd lost one friend after another. Kenric... Calla... Mr. Forkle... And now, Elwin was gone and Biana was missing. And that was only considering those that Keefe actually knew. Both Cyrah and Jolie had died before he'd had a chance to meet them, thanks to the Neverseen.

One thing was for sure: Keefe was sick of losing, and he didn't intend to do it anymore. Starting from then on, he'd do whatever it would take to ensure the Neverseen's defeat. Whatever. It. Takes.