A/N: Pretty sure @pipereyelash requested this one! This is toward the end of Everblaze.
Foster had given them all a surprise when she'd showed up at Mount Everest—without her ability restrictor—and warned them all that the Neverseen knew what they were doing and were planning to ambush them.
How could they possibly know? Keefe had been so careful not to talk about it at home, not wanting his dad to catch wind of it.
Then Mr. Forkle's decision to show Fitz how to get past Foster's mental blocking drove the Neverseen from his mind.
He didn't love how readily she agreed to that.
Didn't love how close she and Fitz were getting.
If it was strictly platonic, he wouldn't care. But as much as they both refused to acknowledge it, they obviously had feelings for each other.
Mostly, Keefe was trying not to think about it. Especially right now—he had too much major life stuff going on to let himself worry over his crush.
Especially when an ogre suddenly punched through the ceiling of the cave, grabbed Foster, and disappeared.
Panic lapped at Keefe's mind, threatening to paralyze him as Sandor took off after them.
He wasn't going to let panic keep him from fighting his way to her.
Wasn't going to let his dad hurt her.
Never again.
His determination drove him forward as several renegade dwarves popped up out of the ground. These dwarves were clearly not with the Black Swan, and they had to fight their way through them to get out of the cave.
Keefe fought harder than anyone. By the time he made it out and caught up to Foster, she was lying in the snow before three black cloaked figures—one of whom was holding a melder.
A wave of nausea hit as he looked at her, wondering if his dad had been the one to attack her.
But as he drew closer, he heard voices—and his dad's voice was not coming from the figure pointing the melder at her.
That wasn't much of a comfort, though.
"...the boy who led us here," he was saying. "He can't be allowed to go home."
"Why?" Keefe shouted, stepping close enough that they could see him through the wall of snow the wind was creating. "Afraid I'll tell Mom?"
His dad laughed.
Laughed.
"Trust me, your mother is not my concern."
"Is this really what you do?" Keefe asked, pointing to Foster, lying paralyzed in the snow and balking at the sight. "Is that the Sencen legacy?"
"No, it's a necessary sacrifice for a larger plan."
Keefe felt a powerful surge of fury at those words. Torturing an innocent child should never be considered a necessary sacrifice. Especially Foster.
"I hate you!" Keefe screamed, grabbing a chunk of ice and throwing it at his dad's head.
But his dad managed to dodge it.
"You hate only because you do not understand. I'm building you a better world. Someday you'll thank me."
"I will never thank you," Keefe replied, backing up a step. "I will never speak to you again."
His dad didn't seem to care too much about that.
He simply said that they would have to take him, Fitz and Sophie captive.
At least Biana was successfully remaining invisible.
Fitz pointed a melder at the one apparently named Gethen, who threatened to shoot Foster again if Fitz shot him.
"How much more do you think that freaky little mind of hers can handle?" Gethen taunted.
"Sophie can handle anything!" Keefe shouted, throwing another chunk of ice. This one smashed Gethen's arm so hard it knocked the melder out of his hand.
Gethen tried to retrieve it but Fitz was faster, snatching the melder and tossing it to Keefe, who began stalking towards his dad, letting Fitz look after Sophie.
It's time to put an end to this.
"I knew all that bramble practice would come in handy," he told his father. "And you said it was a foolish game."
His dad laughed. "Put it down, son."
"I'm not your son!"
"Yes you are--and you always will be. And regardless of what you may think, I don't want to hurt you."
"Funny--I will have no problem blasting the snot out of you."
It was almost disturbing to Keefe to realize how much he meant what he said.
"Then let's take stock of your situation, shall we? We have your dwarves outnumbered three to one. Your bodyguard is dead--"
"Sandor?" Keefe and Fitz both asked.
"Yes. Poor oaf took a dive off that cliff--and last I checked goblins can't force-shift like ogres. So..." He raised his hand, miming a diving motion that ended in a splatter.
Please, no. Keefe willed it to not be true—and desperately hoped that if it were, Foster hadn't had to witness it.
"And last we saw, your puffy leader was pinned down by at least a dozen of our dwarves. I'm sure they'll be delivering him to us any minute now. So it's over. Set down your weapons and we'll bring you in with no further injuries."
"No, I don't think we will," Keefe said, inching closer to Foster. "Because I think you forgot to take stock of your situation."
"Three scrawny kids--one of whom is currently paralyzed," his father started.
But Keefe shook his head. "Not three. Four."
"NOW!" Fitz shouted as Biana appeared and tackled Keefe's dad.
Fitz dropped the other figure with a melder blast and Keefe took over the fight with his dad as Biana rushed to Foster's side.
It was not easy. He had to chase his dad up another incline, shivering all the while—adrenaline the only thing keeping him going at all—in poor visibility thanks to the snow being blown around in the wind.
But then something happened to stop Keefe short.
Just as he caught up to his dad, melder in hand, ready to take him out, there was a gust of wind big enough to knock back his dad's hood.
Only...it wasn't his dad.
It was his mom.
Shock stayed his hand.
It couldn't be his mom. She wasn't exactly a good mother, but he'd always viewed her as the lesser of two evils.
"You?" He finally asked as the others caught up to them. He pointed to the Sencen crest on his cape. "But Dad was the one who gave this to me."
"And I'm the one who gave it to him. Honestly, Keefe--don't you know your father at all? He never set so much as a hair out of place, especially if it risked all those honors he's gotten from the Council."
"But, Dad's--"
"A jerk?" His mom finished. "Yes, he is. And your hating him has been hugely helpful to me. Every time I slipped and let any emotions that might've given me away show through, I could just blame it on your latest mess. In fact, when I return home tonight, all he'll feel is a mother distraught over her son's tragic disappearance."
"You monster!" Biana yelled at her, accidentally giving away her position.
But she remained steady as his mom held a melder to her temple and threatened her with it.
"Go ahead," she said bravely.
"You can drop the mock bravery, my dear," his mom said. "There are safer ways to impress my son. Just ask that one." She tilted her head toward Sophie.
"SHUT UP!" Keefe screamed.
"Yes, you're right," his mom agreed. "I'm cold. And the altitude remedy the ogres gave me is triggering a headache." She pointed her melder at Keefe. "This is your last chance to spare your friends unnecessary pain. Throw down your weapons and come with me."
"Uh--in case you didn't notice, there's four of us and only one of you," he reminded her.
"That's my Keefe. Always missing the obvious."
And then she stomped her feet, calling about a dozen dwarves up out of the snow.
Keefe tried to get his friends to leap away, but they refused to even try—even as his mom was preparing to take them all captive. He loved them for that—but wished they'd just save themselves.
But then, thankfully, Mr. Forkle appeared—and seemed unharmed, thankfully—alongside several of the dwarves that had sided with the Black Swan. The fight resumed, but Keefe saw as his mom realized the tide had turned in the Black Swan's favor and she turned to flee.
But he was done hesitating. This was the life his mother chose, and he was going to have to accept it, and be willing to fight her.
So he chased after her and tackled her.
Somehow, in the ensuing struggle, she got the upper hand. The cold was getting to him, slowing his reflexes.
Or maybe he was still more hesitant to attack his mom than he wanted to be.
She did not have the same qualms about attacking her son.
He soon found himself lying face down in the snow with his mom's foot holding him down.
Talk about Mother of the Year.
But almost immediately, he heard Foster's voice scream "LET HIM GO!"
Suddenly his mom's weight was gone. He looked up to see that Biana had tackled her. Keefe scrambled to his feet and began to chase after them, Fitz and Foster right beside him.
"Did you know Biana could fight like that?" Foster asked as they tried to catch up to the two of them fighting in the snow.
"Actually, yeah," he told her. "She's thrown me down a hill during base quest several times."
Dimly, he registered the familial, brotherly pride and affection he felt for Biana, and it was a painful reminder that he felt more at home with the Vackers than he ever had with his own family.
"Me too," Fitz agreed as they watched Biana knock his mom down again and again.
But then they all realized just how close Biana and his mom were to the edge. If they continued on their current trajectory, they were seconds from falling off the side of the mountain.
"BIANA, STOP!" They all shouted. Keefe knew his friends' panic matched his own.
But surprisingly, it was his mom that stopped them from toppling over the edge. Keefe watched in disbelief as his mom grabbed Biana's arms and swung them both into a snowdrift, keeping them from toppling over. Why she didn't just save herself and leave Biana to her own fate, Keefe didn't know, but he was sure it wasn't for altruistic motives.
All the same, he was relieved. He knew with absolute certainty that if Biana had died because of his mom, he never would have been able to live with the guilt.
"It's over, Mom," he called to her as he approached her, pointing the melder at her heart. "I'll drop you with this if I have to."
She tried to summon her dwarven allies, but no one came.
"Well, I guess they're busy," she said, glancing at the cliff behind her.
"There's nowhere to go, Mom. Just give up and come with me." He raised the melder at her head. "I don't want to use this--but I will."
"I know." She gave him a sad smile. "I'm not going back with you."
"You don't have a choice."
"Oh, there's always a choice."
Her smile faded as she turned to look at the ledge again before launching herself backward, plummeting off the edge of the cliff as Keefe and Foster both screamed, horrified.
What had she done? Was death really worth avoiding capture?
Foster seemed to understand the torrent of conflicting emotions battling through him, though he wasn't voicing any of them.
She seemed to understand that he both hated and loved his mother in this moment. That he both wanted her finished and was terrified she was dead.
He felt both compassion and fear coming off her as she teleported them down to the base of the mountain.
And when they didn't find his mom's body--no sign of her at all--nothing but Sandor, who was thankfully still breathing--he felt Foster's confusion and curiosity over what could have happened.
It was just how he felt, too.
But mostly, he knew something else in him had broken.
Some small part of him that had been holding itself together, one small piece of his heart that hadn't already been crushed...that was broken now, too.
It was bad enough thinking that his dad was one of the bad guys.
What did it say about him--about his family--his entire upbringing--that his nicer parent was actually the evil one?
A hateful jerk for a father and a manipulative evil villain for a mother.
Keefe didn't know how to come back from this one.