At least he’d gotten that right.
“You look fabulous,” he assured Iggy. “I’m definitely going to win the prize for Best Imp Stylist.”
Not that he’d be around to claim his victory.
Or to see Foster’s reaction.
But that was probably better, since a colorful, stripy imp wasn’t the only surprise he was leaving for her.
He pulled the letter he’d written from his pocket and carried Iggy’s cage over to the giant canopied bed, setting both on the pillow so there was no way anyone would miss them.
His brain kept screaming at him to tear the letter up and rewrite it. But there was no time for that.
Plus… it was better to be honest, wasn’t it?
“If you chew this,” he warned, showing Iggy the crinkled envelope, “I will shave you bald—you hear me?”
Iggy burped in his face.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” But just to be extra safe, he slid the cage on top of the letter to weigh it down.
And… that was it.
There was nothing left for him to do.
Except leave.
“Bite anyone who tries to hurt her, okay?” he told Iggy. “Or better yet, just fart in their face.”
Iggy burped again, making the room smell like rotting umber leaves.
Keefe gagged. “Burping works too. Just… take care of her.”
He might’ve been imagining it, but he could’ve sworn the tiny imp nodded.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
And now he was definitely stalling, so it was time to go.
But… his legs wouldn’t cooperate.
Or they wouldn’t until a familiar voice behind him said, “Keefe?”
Then Keefe was ready to smash a Keefe-shaped hole through the wall.
Instead, he squared his shoulders and forced himself to turn and face Sophie’s adoptive father—who looked…
Extra murder-y.
“What are you doing in my house—in my daughter’s room—without permission?” Grady demanded, which made it pretty clear the conversation was not going to go well.
Keefe couldn’t risk using his voice, so he shrugged and pointed at Iggy’s cage, wiggling his hands like, Ta-da—fancy new imp colors!
“That’s right—I heard you aren’t talking now.” Grady’s eyes focused on the sealed envelope with Sophie’s name written across it. “Is that what the letter’s for? Trying to keep in touch?”
Nodding would’ve been easier.
Grady probably would’ve dropped the subject.
But for some reason, Keefe shook his head.
Grady sighed. “Yeah. I was afraid of that. And I’m guessing I don’t want to know what you wrote in there.”
That time Keefe definitely nodded.
Grady’s jaw tightened—and his teeth made a painful grinding sound when he took a longer look at Keefe, focusing on Keefe’s backpack. “Going somewhere?”
Keefe nodded again.
“For how long?”
Keefe shrugged.
However long it took for all of this to be over.
That time Grady’s sigh sounded more like a growl. “You tried this already, remember? And it was a total disaster! So why don’t you do everyone a favor and tear that letter up, go home, and not do whatever you’re planning? We’ll say you came here to change Iggy’s color and that’s it. Deal?”
He held out his hand for Keefe to shake, and Keefe really wished he could take it.
But he backed a step away, trying to think of some combination of gestures that would explain why this plan was way different from the last one.
“Look,” Grady told him, stalking closer and grabbing Keefe’s shoulders. “I’m sure you think you’re doing the right thing—but you’re not. This is not the time to run off and do something reckless.”
“I know,” Keefe whispered, deciding to risk using the two tiny words.
He wanted to say so much more, but he could feel Grady’s emotions swirling—a whole lot of stinging anger and bitter frustration—and didn’t trust his voice to stay even.
Grady shook his head and dropped his hands. “You don’t understand, Keefe. Everything’s about to get really messy. Sophie burned down the Neverseen’s storehouse today.”
Keefe’s eyebrows shot up so high, they felt like they were stretching his face.
“Yeah,” Grady said quietly. “Apparently she gets in even more trouble without you there. Who knew?”
Keefe’s lips pulled into a smile, even though it really wasn’t funny.
He closed his eyes, taking several calming breaths before chancing one quick question. “Is she okay?”
“For now.” Grady made his way over to the bed and sank down on the edge, looking more exhausted than Keefe had ever seen him when he added, “I’m sure it won’t be long before the Neverseen retaliate. And I have a horrible feeling it’ll be their cruelest attack yet. Sandor’s working on new security strategies, but you and I both know how stubborn Sophie can be about that kind of thing. And… honestly… as much as I don’t understand your friendship… she does listen to you sometimes. And rely on you. And… I think she’s going to need you for this next part.”
Keefe wasn’t sure that was true.
But Grady had to be pretty desperate to tell him that.
In fact, he could feel Grady’s worry hanging over them like heavy storm clouds.
It made him want to shred that letter and run back to Elwin’s and tell Ro, JUST KIDDING—DON’T BE MAD.
But he was right this time.
He could feel it.
“I really have to go,” he whispered.
Grady closed his eyes.
“I’m not going to pretend like I know what you’re going through,” he told Keefe. “But… I do know what it’s like to have a daunting power. And I respect how hard you’re fighting to get control. You just need to believe in yourself. You will figure this out, with time and training and practice and—”
Keefe grabbed Grady’s arm, waiting for him to look at him before he shook his head.
“I have to go,” he said, risking that tiny bit of emphasis. “I’m sorry. I wish…”
There were so many ways he wanted to finish that sentence—so many hopes and dreams and fears and frustrations.
But he kept them all to himself.
None of them were options anymore.
He had one choice left.
And he had to make it.
No matter what it cost him.
Grady tilted his head to study him, like he was trying to solve a riddle.
He must’ve found some sort of answer because he stood and said, “Okay. If that’s what you need to do, I’m not going to stop you.”
Keefe nodded, feeling his chest tighten and his eyes burn as reached into his pocket for his pathfinder.
He had to get out of there before he broke down crying.
But Grady put a hand on his shoulder. “Wait, I need you to take this with you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Imparter. “I promise, I’ll only use it for an emergency. I just… I have a feeling Sophie’s going to need you before this is all over. So please, keep it in your pocket—and swear to me that you’ll answer if I hail you.”