Unlocked

Twenty Three - Keefe

"Sophie!"

The words leached from Keefe's throat as she tumbled into the river, disappearing beneath the blue and white rapids.

Keefe didn't have the energy left to fight his mother. Only seconds ago he'd wanted nothing more than to zap her with all his electricity. Now all he wanted was to curl into a ball and cry. Sophie was gone. Lost into a vicious stream of water and rocks.

He'd heard the message she'd sent. She'd told him she loved him. A tear slipped down his face. She couldn't be gone. She just couldn't.

When a hand touched his shoulder he flinched. Keefe snapped his gaze upward. "You killed her." The words were cold with anger, and Keefe was glad.

"I'm sorry Keefe."

"No you're not."

She crouched beside him and gave him a sympathetic look—one that almost looked caring. Almost.

He hated her.

Keefe used the moment to his advantage. He kicked her legs out from under her and she fell onto the wooden boards of the bridge. Keefe grappled for the circlet.

He was going to keep fighting. For Sophie. For that small, dim hope that she was still alive.

The thin metal band got tangled in his mother's hair, but he managed to pull it free. With that he yanked a leather necklace from her neck. It clasped a rose gold crystal—a color he'd never seen used for light leaping.

She was staring at him in shock. And her emotions . . .

Guilt.

He took a step back. He wasn't even aware his mother was capable of feeling such a thing.

Lady Gisela was slumped in a heap. Her arm hung off the side of the bridge and she was pale white. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

Keefe ran.

He tucked the crystal and the circlet into his jerkin and darted off the bridge.

♡  ~𝓤𝓷𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭~  ♡

Please. Please. PLEASE.

The words swirled in Keefe's mind as he ran to the edge of the river. His hands were shaking and he could barely walk, but he forced himself to keep moving.

He stumbled to the edge and frantically swept the rippling waves with his eyes.

Please.

The water was rapidly running down the stream-bed, spurting Keefe with water and drenching his clothing.

Please.

He ran into the current and ducked his head under the water. He felt his feet being scathed by rocks and small fish rushing by him, but he kept going.

Please.

He raised his head to the surface to take a breath, then immediately plunged back under. He searched the river, straining to keep his eyes open underneath the water.

Something caught his eye.

His eyes flashed to a patch of red within the blue, blood trailing through the water.

He swam toward it.

By the time he reached the blood he was shaking—if it was from the frigid water or his fear he was unsure.

A wisp of blond hair flickered into his vision.

He spun to the right, searching madly. He ducked his head under once again and saw a limp body of a beautiful girl, her face lifeless and pale. Blood was streaming from several places and blended into the water, tinting it scarlet. She was far beneath the surface, lying on the pebbles and rocks of the stream bed.

He dove toward her.

When he reached her he pulled her from the rocks, taking her into his arms. He didn't have much breath left. He hadn't practiced breath regulating recently, and even if he had, he wouldn't have had the strength to use the skill.

He swam upward as fast as he possibly could, desperate to get free of the water.

When they finally reached the surface, Keefe pulled them both from the water and onto the grass at the edge of the river.

Keefe immediately put one hand on her neck. No pulse. A hand on her heart. No heartbeat. A hand on her mouth. No breath.

No!

It was the only thing he could bring himself to think as tears streamed from his face. They fell onto the ground, watering the dry grass with tears.

He tried the Heimlich maneuver once, then twice. After the third time failed Keefe curled into a ball. He cried more tears that day than he'd ever in his life.

Sophie was gone. Sophie. His Sophie.

Gone.

Gone.

He couldn't bring himself to look at her. He didn't want to see her lifeless eyes, her limp body.

He didn't want to see the girl he loved dead.

As Keefe sobbed he heard a sizzling sound. At first he ignored it—whatever it was, it didn't matter. Nothing in the world mattered anymore—but after the crackling increased in volume he finally raised his head.

He looked up to see that his hands were shaking with electricity. Maybe in the most extreme circumstances Keefe couldn't control his ability. It spiked up his arms and down his torso, but he didn't care.

If his ability burned away his life force it wouldn't matter.

Without thinking he trailed his hand along the ground. When it came in contact with a cold, fragile hand, he froze. When he had touched her hand he could've sworn it twitched.

He lunged upright from his hunched position and forced himself to look at Sophie.

Had he only imagined it?

His hands were now glowing with the bright charge, igniting the air around him. The electricity was growing stronger and stronger. It sizzled and spiked up his forearms in erratic patterns.

He suddenly jerked.

What if he could . . . ?

He knelt beside Sophie and raised a shaky, sparking hand. He slowly pressed it against her abdomen, right where he imagined her heart was.

Once he had pressed both his hands firmly against her chest, the sparks died down. His hands started glowing brightly, almost blinding him. He heard a sizzle and a crack, the sounds fading into thin air.

Was he dreaming, or was her heart beating again?

Please, he thought again. Please.

Maybe it was some bigger force out there; the world taking pity on him. Maybe it was a miracle. Or maybe it was just Keefe's desperate pleas for Sophie to come back. But whatever it was . . .

Sophie's eyes snapped open.