Nightfall

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Nightfall Page 45

by Shannon Messenger


  “It is,” Sophie agreed, unwilling to loosen her grip. “Those paintings, Keefe . . . I still don’t know what to say.”

  “Um, I thought we agreed you’d be declaring it the Best Gift in the History of the Universe! And feel free to add that it’s way better than anything the Fitzster has given you.”

  It was, actually—but saying that didn’t seem fair to all the awesome things Fitz had done. So she went with a simple “thank you.”

  Keefe pulled her a little closer. “Anytime, Foster.”

  It was probably her cue to let go, but . . . she couldn’t seem to do it.

  Someone cleared his throat, and Sophie leaned back, prepared to give Grady a death glare—but the sound had come from the doorway, where Lord Cassius now stood, along with Tam, Linh, Fitz, and Grizel.

  “Looks like we missed something,” Fitz said, his eyes darting between the paintings and where Keefe’s arms were wrapped around Sophie’s waist.

  Sophie pulled away. “So . . . how’d it go?”

  “A mix of good news and bad news,” Lord Cassius told her.

  She didn’t breathe until Fitz told her, “The good news is: The symbol is definitely there. It’s on the scepter the human statue is holding.”

  Sophie’s knees nearly gave out with relief.

  “I could feel the currents in the fountain brushing the seam of a door under the statue’s pedestal,” Linh added. “One that should be easy to access once I part the water.”

  “If the door’s underwater, how do the Neverseen get in and out?” Biana asked.

  “Gusters can part water with their winds,” Alden reminded her.

  “So . . . we definitely found Nightfall,” Sophie said, needing to feel the words on her lips to truly believe them.

  Fitz closed the distance between them to take her hand. “We did.”

  She twined her fingers with his, taking all the support she could get in order to ask, “What’s the bad news?”

  “The bad news is: Linh made us buy this as our cover for being in the city,” Tam grumbled, holding up a small clear bag with a tiny creature floating in water. It looked like a mini-kitten covered in purple-blue scales. “Of all the pets she could’ve made me get for her, she had to pick one with venomous fangs.”

  “Hey, murcats are sweet once you train them,” Linh insisted.

  “Uh-huh. Don’t blame me if you lose a couple of fingers,” Tam warned.

  “Questionable pet choices aside,” Granite said, not looking thrilled at the newest addition to his household, “is that the only bad news?”

  “No,” Fitz admitted. “Linh said the door feels locked.”

  “I tried sweeping waves against the handle,” Linh explained, “but I couldn’t budge it.”

  “No big deal,” Dex assured them. “I’ve never met a lock I can’t pick.”

  “What about the cache I hear you’ve been trying to open for months?” Lord Cassius countered.

  “Isn’t my dad fun?” Keefe asked. “Aren’t you glad we’re working with him?”

  “Am I wrong?” Lord Cassius countered.

  Dex scowled. “The cache isn’t locked. It’s guarded—which is way more complicated.”

  “We’ll make sure you have enough time,” Mr. Forkle told him. “In case there’s also an alarm to deal with. And we’ll need to stage the raid at night, to ensure that no one’s around to see us enter the fountain. The Council has made it clear that none of the citizens in Atlantis can see what we’re doing.”

  “Are they really going to keep Nightfall a secret?” Sophie asked.

  He nodded. “At least while any of the Neverseen remain at large.”

  “That’s the other bad news,” Fitz jumped in. “I don’t think there’s a way to sneak in without the Neverseen knowing we’re coming.”

  Keefe shrugged. “So? I’m sure they’re already expecting us. Vespera left her signature on Alvar’s foot.”

  “I agree,” Grady said. “But it also means they’ll likely have plenty of security ready—and this time we don’t have any idea how to prepare for it.”

  “It can’t be worse than giant mutant beast things,” Tam argued.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Mr. Forkle told him. “Vespera has had a long, long time to plan for this. Fortunately, the same strategy we used to rescue Miss Foster and Mr. Dizznee should work for this as well.”

  “You mean a diversion?” Squall clarified.

  Mr. Forkle nodded. “To draw them out of the facility. I’m sure they have eyes on that courtyard. So all we have to do is show them something they can’t resist.”

  “Like what?” Della asked, beating Sophie to the question.

  “It has to be something shocking,” Granite mused. “Something like . . .”

  “Me,” Mr. Forkle finished. “If the Neverseen see me, they’d have to investigate.”

  “Why?” Lord Cassius asked.

  “Because they think I’m dead.”

  Lord Cassius’s eyes widened.

  “Wouldn’t that be too suspicious, though?” Tam asked. “I feel like the Neverseen would expect a trick the second they see you. They might even think it’s not really you—just someone we fed a bunch of ruckleberries and elixirs.”

  “Tam’s right,” Blur said. “They know we’re coming—and they know we’ve lured them out of their hideout before. The only way this is going to work is if we show them something they’re so desperate for—”

  “Or someone,” Linh interrupted. The pink faded from her cheeks as she turned to Granite. “I know who they wouldn’t be able to resist. But . . . I hate to ask him.”

  Sophie guessed who Linh meant at the same time as Mr. Forkle.

  And with equal dread—they both mumbled, “Wylie.”

  Seventy-two

  WE CAN’T ASK Wylie to do that.”

  Sophie must’ve said the words three times, trying to silence the desperate, selfish part of herself that kept thinking it was an awesome solution.

  It wouldn’t be fair to ask Wylie to take that risk. He’d barely escaped his abduction—and she didn’t want to imagine what Fintan would do if he captured Wylie again.

  “I actually think we should ask him,” Linh told her—which Sophie definitely hadn’t been expecting. “He’ll tell us if he doesn’t feel comfortable doing it. And after everything the Neverseen have done to him, he might want to help.”

  Granite looked anything but thrilled with the possibility. “Do we even have the resources to stage a simultaneous raid into Nightfall and provide proper security for Wylie?” he asked.

  “It would be a challenge,” Mr. Forkle admitted.

  “My queen would probably be willing to send additional soldiers,” Sandor offered.

  “And I bet my dad would send a couple of extra warriors,” Ro added. “But your Councillors would have to be cool with having ogres stalking around Atlantis, making fun of all the sparkles.”

  “I don’t think that would be wise,” Mr. Forkle told her, “mostly because the Neverseen won’t go near Wylie if he’s surrounded by armed guards. Any security we provide would have to be discreet.”

  “Like this?” Della asked, vanishing and reappearing a second later with a goblin throwing-star pressed against Lord Cassius’s throat.

  “That yelp you just let out totally made my day,” Keefe told him.

  “Mine too,” Ro said. “But anyone can scare Lord Fancyclothes,” she told Della.

  Della vanished again, reappearing across the room as she unsheathed Grizel’s sword and pointed it at Sandor’s chest.

  Ro shrugged. “Those guys are too busy making sappy eyes at each other.”

  Della vanished again—and Ro anticipated the attack. Her sword was drawn and ready, slashing the air.

  But Della appeared behind her, snatched the dagger from Ro’s breastplate and pressed the point against Ro’s spine.

  “Huh. I think I finally get how elf-y abilities could be an advantage in battle,” Ro admitted. “Too bad most of you
don’t show this kind of flare.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Della told her, handing Ro back her dagger.

  “Your skills are highly impressive,” Mr. Forkle told Della as she smoothed her dark silky hair and adjusted the skirt of her gown. “But a single Vanisher against the Neverseen won’t be enough.”

  “Then let me help,” Edaline said, snapping her fingers and making a melder appear in her palm. She snapped again and swapped the gadget for a tightly coiled lasso—which she swung in a fluid motion, looping the rope around Ro and cinching tight. “I have access to an entire arsenal of weapons,” she told them. “And I can restrain a woolly mammoth with one hand.”

  Ro grabbed the rope and pulled, but Edaline easily kept her balance.

  “I can help too,” Squall offered, curling her ice-crusted fingers into a fist and making frozen cuffs bind Ro’s hands.

  Ro fought to break free, but every time the ice cracked, a new layer formed.

  “Okay, you guys are my new favorites,” Ro told them.

  “And I doubt the Neverseen would suspect them either,” Blur noted. “Since Vanishers, Conjurers, and Frosters are rarely seen as threats.”

  “I would be there as well,” Granite added. “If  Wylie agreed—though, I have to say, I think we might be overestimating how the Neverseen would react to seeing him. The idea that they’d immediately abandon their facility in an attempt to recapture him seems far too impulsive.”

  “Okay, so what if we give them time to plan?” Fitz suggested. “What if Wylie requests a meeting—and we plan our raid for the same time?”

  “Do you really think they’d fall for that?” Tam asked.

  “They might,” Mr. Forkle said slowly. “If his offer was tempting enough.”

  “Couldn’t Wylie offer to give them the answers they wanted about his mom—and maybe even say he’ll give them the missing starstone?” Fitz asked. “I bet they wouldn’t be able to resist that.”

  “But Wylie would have to ask for something in return to make it believable,” Sophie reminded him. “And I don’t know what that would be.”

  “How about revenge?” Keefe suggested.

  “Uh, pretty sure the Neverseen aren’t going to volunteer to let him punish them for kidnapping him,” Tam told him.

  “Not the revenge I meant, Bangs Boy,” Keefe said with an enormous eye roll. “I meant revenge for what happened to his mom. Wylie could act like he thinks my mom killed Cyrah—it’s not like it’s a stretch, since I’m still not convinced she didn’t do it. And he could say he went to the Black Swan for help and we refused, because we’re working with her. So now he’s going to the other side to see if they’ll take her down for him, and offering the secrets as a trade.”

  “I actually could see them believing that,” Mr. Forkle admitted.

  “So could I,” Granite mumbled. “Though I’m sure they’d still be suspicious.”

  “Suspicious is fine,” Blur reminded him. “As long as they leave the facility to go to the meeting.”

  “Okay but . . . did I miss something?” Dex asked. “How is Wylie supposed to tell them any of this? We don’t have a way to hail the Neverseen.”

  “Could we leave a note?” Sophie said. “I know this is probably going to sound cheesy, but . . . the Neverseen must have a way of monitoring the Unity Fountain. So couldn’t Wylie write up a message, slip it in a bottle, seal it with their symbol, and leave it floating in there?”

  Mr. Forkle stroked his chin. “I suppose we’ve left notes in stranger places.”

  “And at least we’d know if they got it, if the bottle disappears,” Alden added.

  “It sounds like we’re settled on this,” Granite said through a sigh. “I guess that means I’d better talk to Wylie, but if he says no—”

  “We’ll come up with something else,” Sophie promised.

  “Hail us as soon as you have his decision,” Mr. Forkle added as Granite leaped away.

  Blur, Wraith, and Alden left soon after, to scout possible meeting places. And Della, Edaline, and Squall went to check Havenfield’s weapons stash to see what other items they might want to bring with them.

  “We should figure out our strategy for Nightfall while we wait,” Grady said, turning to Sophie. “And I’ll make you a deal. I won’t argue about you or any of your friends going—if you don’t fight having me join you.”

  “And your bodyguard,” Sandor added.

  “That may not be possible,” Mr. Forkle warned the goblins. “Nightfall isn’t a place that should be seen by other species. It’s . . . not a proud moment in our history.”

  “You’d really leave Sophie unprotected to hide something that happened thousands of years ago?” Grizel asked.

  A long second passed before Mr. Forkle sighed. “I suppose . . . whatever’s down there . . . we’ll have to own up to it eventually. But—”

  “Don’t,” Ro warned when he turned to her. “Don’t even think about telling me I’m not going. There’s no way I’m letting Scrawny Boy go in there without me. Some of my father’s traitors could be serving as guards.”

  “Scrawny Boy?” Keefe asked. “Did I, or did I not beat you at arm wrestling?”

  “One time!” Ro argued. “And only because you tickled me!”

  “Ogres are ticklish?” Tam asked.

  “Apparently,” Sophie said, not sure how to picture that. She stopped trying when Ro shot her a glare, instead turning back to Mr. Forkle. “It probably would be good to have Ro with us.”

  “I guess I’ll be facing plenty of heat from the Council anyway—why not add a little more?” Mr. Forkle told her. “But I’m trusting all of you to keep whatever you see in there to yourselves until we’ve decided what to do about it.”

  When everyone nodded, he asked, “So how many does that put us at?”

  Sophie took a quick count. “Thirteen, including all of our bodyguards and Ro. Though I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to count you.”

  He grimaced. “Much as it pains me to say this, I think keeping the fact that I’m alive a secret might hold more value than whatever I could contribute to this mission—especially since the group is already so large. In fact, how about we limit it to only two goblins? I’ll let you decide which—though I’m sure I can guess.”

  Sandor and Grizel pulled rank immediately.

  “Okay, so now we’re down to eleven,” Sophie said.

  “Twelve,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “Miss Redek should go too.”

  “Marella Redek is part of the Black Swan?” Lord Cassius asked.

  Sophie cringed.

  She’d forgotten he was there. And given the way he’d tucked himself into a shadowy corner, she suspected that had been his goal.

  “Think of her more like a consultant,” Mr. Forkle told him. “And do not ask any more questions. In fact, you’ve done all we need from you at the moment.”

  “Am I to assume I’m dismissed?” Lord Cassius asked.

  “For now.”

  Lord Cassius’s eyes narrowed, and Sophie waited for him to argue. But he said, “Fine. If you want me to prove I’ll respect your authority, I can do that.”

  He pulled out his home crystal and lifted the chain up over his head, handing the necklace to Keefe. “When you’re finished here, come home.”

  Keefe stared and stared at that crystal, long after Lord Cassius left. And he didn’t put it around his neck—but he did tuck it into his cape pocket.

  “Okay,” Mr. Forkle said, clapping his hands, “that leaves us with a group of two goblins, an ogre, a Telepath, an Empath, a Vanisher, a Shade, a Hydrokinetic, a Technopath, a Mesmer, and a Pyrokinetic—and of course Miss Foster’s Telepath-Polyglot-Teleporter-Inflictor-Enhancer combination.”

  Ro blinked. “Wow. Now I get why everyone’s always trying to kill her.”

  “Indeed. But what I meant was, I think this group should sufficiently cover any challenging situation—assuming Miss Redek is willing.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait until we he
ar what Wylie decides?” Biana asked. “In case that changes anything?”

  They didn’t have to wait long.

  When Granite returned to Havenfield, he didn’t come alone.

  “Hey,” Wylie said, stealing a glance at Linh before he turned to Sophie. “I hear you have a job for me.”

  Seventy-three

  ARE YOU SURE?” Sophie had to ask. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know,” Wylie told her. “But after my father—”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” Sophie interrupted. “I healed Prentice because I wanted to. And because it was the right thing to do.”

  “So is this. Your parents don’t deserve whatever’s happening to them.” His bright blue eyes dimmed, and Sophie wondered if he was remembering the horrors he’d endured during his interrogation.

  She didn’t let herself think about it—didn’t want to sink back into that numb panic.

  But she had to ask him one more time, “You’re sure?”

  He was.

  So was Marella—though she looked a whole lot happier with her decision once Sophie had clarified that there would be no gorgodons or cold, sticky ash.

  And even though it earned Sophie lots and lots of eye rolls, she asked each of her friends if they were sure too. And Della. And Grady. And Edaline. And Sandor and Grizel. And Ro.

  Each time, they promised that they were certain.

  Even the Collective wasn’t safe from the question—though for them she was mostly trying to make sure that there wasn’t some better, safer, plan they should be focusing on.

  “We’re sure,” Mr. Forkle told her. Over and over and over. Until he turned the question back on her.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, removing a black bottle from his cape pocket. The note Wylie had written—following their explicit instructions—was already sealed inside, with white wax in the shape of the Neverseen’s eye. “Once Wylie leaves this in the Unity Fountain, the plan will be in motion. You’ll have less than twenty-four hours before you head into Nightfall. Are you ready for that?”

  “I have to be.”

  “That’s not the same as a yes,” he noted. “And as someone who’s faced far too many moments like this, can I share something I’ve had to learn the hard way?”

 

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