Neverseen

by Shannon Messenger

“But the real child is out there somewhere,” Brant jumped in. “If Alden finds her first—”

  “We’re monitoring Alden closely,” Lady Gisela interrupted.

  “Not close enough,” Brant argued.

  The Boy threw out his hands. His words were garbled—damaged in the memory—but Sophie was pretty sure he said, “It’s not easy to leave Foxfire.”

  “Then perhaps you should go to Exillium,” Lady Gisela told him. “Ruy is having no problems there.”

  “You know I would draw way too much attention if I left,” the Boy whispered.

  The memory crackled too much to hear Lady Gisela’s reply. Brant said something too, but the words mushed together—or maybe that was Sophie’s brain trying to make sense of what she’d just learned.

  The scene cleared as Lady Gisela said, “It’s a good thing Fitz is close to my son’s age. Perhaps they need to spend more time together.”

  At the mention of himself, Keefe stepped forward. “Mom? What’s going on?”

  Lady Gisela hid her surprise well.

  “Nothing, baby,” she said, opening her arms for a hug. “Why are you out of bed?”

  Sophie couldn’t decide what made her sadder: watching Keefe cuddle against his mom, or watching Lady Gisela turn to Brant and whisper, “Go get our Washer.”

  Washers were Telepaths with the ability to erase memories. That explained why the scene had blips and damage. Lady Gisela had it wiped from Keefe’s mind.

  But washed memories could come back. All it took was something to trigger it. Fintan mentioning the Lodestar Initiative must’ve been enough, and now Keefe’s mind was fixated.

  The memory started over, and Sophie watched it replay, searching for clues she’d missed. One thing she knew for sure: Ruy—the Psionipath—wasn’t the Boy Who Disappeared.

  But that didn’t matter at the moment. She needed to get Keefe back.

  “He’s remembered something his mom erased,” she told Elwin when she pulled her mind back, “and now his brain is stuck on it.”

  “What did he remember?” Timkin asked.

  Sophie stayed silent. Her trust in Timkin Heks only went so far.

  “If that’s the case, what his mind really needs is to rest long enough to reset,” Elwin said, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a vial filled with deep purple serum. “This will knock him out for twenty-four hours, which should be enough time. I wouldn’t leap him until he wakes up, though. He already looks a little faded. I’ll give him something for that—don’t worry.”

  “He can stay here,” Timkin said.

  “I’m staying with him,” Sophie told him.

  “I assumed.”

  Sophie helped Elwin prop Keefe up and pour the elixir on Keefe’s tongue. Thankfully, Keefe swallowed it without a fight.

  “I’ll bring him to his room,” Timkin said, lifting Keefe and heading for the stairs.

  Sophie turned to follow, but Elwin blocked her, forcing her to drink several elixirs while Dex endured a full checkup.

  “Do you think Fitz and Biana will be safe at Everglen?” Sophie asked Dex.

  “Of course they will,” a stern female voice said behind them. “The Council has far larger problems than teenage runaways.”

  Vika stalked into the room, eyeing Sophie and Dex like intruders. She was tall, like her daughter, and her dark hair was slicked into a ponytail as tight as her features.

  Sophie stood taller. “What’s happening with the gnomes?”

  “They’re testing the cure. And then . . . who knows?” Vika undid her ponytail, letting her wild hair fall over her face. “Going to Ravagog is a death sentence for them. But so is staying here.”

  “You really think the ogres can unleash the plague in the Lost Cities?” Elwin asked.

  “Assuming they haven’t already,” Vika said. “They could’ve done it today, while we all stood there watching. They’ve already done an excellent job of making us look the fools.”

  Sophie shivered as she realized that Vika was right. All the gnomes were gathered in Eternalia—it would’ve been the perfect chance to unleash the plague.

  But she hadn’t seen any sign of the Psionipath.

  Then again, Fintan had made it sound like the force-fielded trees were just part of their timing system.

  “For what it’s worth,” Elwin said, resting a strong hand on Sophie’s shoulders, “I think the ogres need the gnomes, and that’s what they’re really aiming for. King Dimitar said he had a project for them, remember? So I doubt they’re infected yet, but I’d sure like to get my hands on that cure.”

  “Do you think we can make more from the sample they gave?” Dex asked.

  “I’m sure the healers will keep a bit to try,” Elwin said. “But I’m betting the Neverseen would have planned for that. I’m going to stop by Lumenaria after I leave here and see what’s up. I’ll be back to check on Keefe when the sedatives wear off.”

  Elwin was about to leap away, when Sophie ran over and whispered one additional request.

  Elwin smiled. “Consider it done.”

  “What was that about?” Dex asked when Elwin was gone.

  “Just . . . something that might help Keefe when he wakes up.”

  Mr. Forkle showed up later to take Dex back to Alluveterre. The Collective needed him to comb through the Lumenaria archive for any information on the Four Seasons Tree. He didn’t have much of an update, though he said most of the gnomes had decided to leave for Ravagog if the cure worked.

  “But they’ll be slaves,” Sophie whispered.

  All Mr. Forkle said was, “We’re working on alternatives.”

  He leaped away then, taking Dex and leaving Sophie alone at Sterling Gables with the Hekses, Marella, and an unconscious Keefe. She couldn’t decide who was worse.

  She stayed by Keefe’s side, even though it meant sleeping in a rather uncomfortable chair. Night stretched into morning, and Sophie began to realize how long twenty-four hours could feel. Vika brought her breakfast: sliced fruit that didn’t taste ripe, a sour reminder of how different things would be without the gnomes in the Lost Cities.

  “Can’t you do some weird Telepath trick to fix him?” Stina asked when she checked on Keefe at lunchtime.

  “Keefe’s mind isn’t broken,” Sophie said. “But I do keep checking his dreams.”

  “Ugh, how creepy is that?” she asked.

  “You can go now,” Sophie told her.

  Stina stalked away, and Sophie figured that would be the last she’d see of her. But Stina brought her dinner.

  “It shouldn’t be that much longer, right?” she asked as Sophie forced down a few bites of a purple root that was too mushy.

  Sophie checked the time. “Should be about two hours. Any news on the gnomes?”

  “My dad said the cure is working, so . . . that’s good, right?”

  “Yeah.” Except it meant the gnomes really would be heading to Ravagog. She tried to imagine Calla serving King Dimitar, trapped in a land with no trees.

  Stina sat on the floor and curled her long legs underneath her.

  “Where’s Marella?” Sophie asked to break the silence.

  “She went home hours ago—nice job noticing.”

  “Um, I’ve been a little busy.”

  “Yeah,” Stina said, “you always are. Why do you think she got sick of you?”

  “Let’s not do this,” Sophie said. “I get it, you hate me. I don’t get why, but—”

  “You really don’t know?” Stina interrupted, shaking her head. “The first time I saw you, you laughed at me. At Slurps and Burps, remember? You didn’t even know me. And you didn’t know Dex. But you sided with him, even though he’d turned me bald.”

  It had been a little more complicated than that, since Stina and her mom had been incredibly rude to Dex and Kesler. But Stina was right. Laughing at someone going through a hard time was never nice.

  “I’m sorry,” she told Stina. “I mean it. I am.”

  More awkward silence
passed until Stina stood. “I still don’t like you. But . . . I could change my mind if you find a way to fix this mess with the gnomes.”

  “Gee, no pressure there.”

  Stina shrugged.

  She was halfway out the door before she added, “If you can’t do it, I don’t know who can.”

  SIXTY-FOUR

  WHEN KEEFE ’  S SEDATIVE finally wore off, Elwin declared him better. His cheeks had color again, and his eyes weren’t glazed over, and he could even answer all of Mr. Forkle’s questions.

  But he wasn’t better.

  Sophie tried to get him to talk after Mr. Forkle brought them back to Alluveterre, but he closed himself in his room.

  “It’s not safe to talk to me,” he called through the door. “Apparently I’ve been reporting on my friends for years.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Sophie promised.

  “Uh, yeah it does. For all I know, I’m the one who told the Neverseen that Fitz found you. Haven’t you wondered how Gethen knew to show up with that dog to try and grab you?”

  “The only person who knew I found Sophie was my dad,” Fitz said, joining Sophie outside Keefe’s door. “I never told you.”

  “Okay, fine,” Keefe said. “But I’m sure there were other times my mom had me spying on you.”

  “ ‘Spying’ implies intent, Keefe,” Sophie reminded him. “You were used.”

  “Great. Because that makes it better.”

  He stalked away from the door and stopped responding when they called to him. Even when Sophie tried to give him the gift she’d asked Elwin to buy. She had to settle for leaving it in the hall outside his door. She hoped he’d find it later, and the fluffy green gulon stuffed animal would make it easier for him to sleep.

  “The revelations of yesterday have bruised deep,” Mr. Forkle warned her as she sulked to her room.

  Sophie was more afraid they’d left a giant gaping wound that no amount of time could ever heal.

  She kept replaying what she’d learned about guilt—how some elves reacted differently.

  Based on what she knew about Keefe, she was pretty sure his response would be reckless.

  “Going somewhere?” she asked from the shadows of the gazebo as Keefe tried to sneak down the stairs.

  It was the middle of the night, and she’d been camped out for hours, waiting to see if her theory was right.

  Sure enough, Keefe was there, fully dressed and carrying a satchel.

  “So where are we going?” she asked, standing to show that she was dressed too.

  “You’re going back to bed,” he said.

  “I will if you will,” she told him.

  He shook his head. “I have to do this.”

  “Please tell me you’re not honestly thinking of sneaking into Ravagog by yourself.”

  “Someone has to steal that cure. It’s the only way to stop the plague and save the gnomes from slavery.”

  “I know,” Sophie said. “But you can’t do this by yourself. How are you going to get inside the city? And if you do get in—what then? You don’t even know where you’re going.”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  “Or you’ll get yourself captured—or killed. You can’t leave without a plan.”

  “We don’t have time for plans! We have a week.”

  “Then we’ll have to plan quickly.”

  She crossed the room and grabbed the strap of his satchel, which felt unexpectedly light as she pulled it off his shoulder.

  “The Neverseen have been planning this for years, Keefe. You can’t defeat them with zero thought and . . .” She opened his satchel and smiled as she peeked inside, where a fluffy green stuffed gulon stared back at her. “Mrs. Stinkbottom will help you sleep, not defeat ogres.”

  “I know,” Keefe mumbled.

  She wished he would smile, or crack a joke, or do something Keefe-like—especially at the name Elwin had chosen.

  All he said was, “I also have a melder in there. And some of those cube things Dex used in Exile.”

  “That’s not enough to take on ogres, Keefe. Ogres. Remember what King Dimitar did to Sandor?”

  “That doesn’t scare me.”

  “It should. I know it terrifies me.”

  “That’s why I’m going by myself.”

  “No, you’re not. We’re a team. We’re stronger together.”

  He reached for his satchel, but she wouldn’t let go.

  “At least give me one day,” she begged. “One day to come up with a better plan.”

  His sigh stretched so long it sounded painful.

  “Fine. I’ll wait until tomorrow night,” he said. “Then I’m leaving.”

  “We need a guide,” Sophie told her friends as they gathered around the breakfast table for a How To Break Into Ravagog brainstorming session. “And not a telepathic guide. An actual guide, who knows their way around the city. We can’t afford to get lost.”

  They only knew two people who’d been to Ravagog: Lady Cadence, Sophie’s former linguistics mentor, and Alvar, Fitz and Biana’s brother.

  “It has to be Alvar,” Keefe said. “Lady Cadence is scarier than the ogres.”

  Sophie agreed.

  “Did we ever find a way to contact Alvar?” Sophie asked Fitz and Biana.

  “I did,” Della said, appearing in the corner of the gazebo, next to the pile of underripe fruit they’d picked for breakfast. “He didn’t remember the boy you’d asked about. I forgot to tell you.”

  “I thought you were with Prentice,” Biana said.

  “I was on my way. Then I heard five of the people I care about most in this world talking about sneaking into the ogre capital. So I figured I should stick around and make sure you don’t do anything crazy. And before you start to argue”—she held out her hands to silence them—“I’m not going to try to stop you. I knew when I followed you to the Black Swan that there would be times, like right now, where I’d have to stand by and watch you take huge risks. It’s not easy. Part of me wants to barricade the doors and keep you safe until you’re at least three hundred years old. But . . . I trust you—all of you.” Her eyes lingered on Keefe. “And I know the incredible things the five of you can do. So I’m not going to talk you out of this. I’ll even ask Alvar to help. But I need you five to promise you won’t run off until you’ve discussed your plan with the Collective. I don’t care if you think they’ll try to stop you. You’re strongest when you all work together.”

  Della left after they agreed—though Keefe didn’t sound very convincing—and Sophie looked at her list of problems they hadn’t solved. “Okay, so assuming Alvar is our guide, we need to figure out how we stay hidden.”

  “That’s easy,” Biana said, vanishing.

  Fitz rolled his eyes. “What about the rest of us?”

  “And how do you know the ogres aren’t like the gnomes and have a way to see you?” Sophie asked. “Even if they can’t, they’ll be able to smell that we don’t have a Markchain.”

  A Markchain was a silver necklace housing a tiny ecosystem of bacteria, and it served as a hybrid between the elvin registry pendants and the dwarves’ magsidian. The scent made it clear to any nearby ogres that the person with the Markchain had permission to be in their city.

  “Maybe Lady Cadence would let us borrow hers,” Fitz said.

  Sophie made a note of the suggestion, even if she couldn’t imagine Lady Cadence agreeing. “We’re going to need disguises, too. In case we’re spotted. I still have the Neverseen robe I used when we went to visit Gethen.”

  “I have mine, too,” Keefe said. His voice hid a slight quiver.

  “Okay, so that’s two. We’ll have to find a way to make three more. And he had the Neverseen symbol on his arm, too—maybe we should add that. In fact, maybe we should try to re-create his whole outfit. He had this fitted vest that looked almost military style. The ogres probably don’t know all the members of the Neverseen, so the harder we work to get the details right, the better chance
we have of them letting us go if we get stopped.” Sophie made another note, and drew a quick sketch of Gethen’s vest, wishing she had Keefe’s artistic skills.

  “So, just to recap,” Dex said, setting down the gadget he’d been tweaking. “We might have a guide. And we might have one Markchain. And we might have a way to make disguises. And I might be able to make enough weapons in the next, like, five hours. Anyone else see the problem?”

  “Yeah, this is why I should go by myself,” Keefe said.

  The suggestion was met with a resounding, “No!” But Sophie knew Keefe wasn’t going to listen. If she didn’t figure something out, he would go alone.

  “No, the problem,” Dex said, “is that we still haven’t figured how we’re getting into the city. I’m guessing teleporting is out?”

  “I remember Alvar saying the city is surrounded by force fields,” Fitz said. “Who knows what they’d do to us as we tried to pass through.”

  “Maybe Alvar knows a secret entrance,” Biana suggested.

  “Maybe,” Sophie agreed. But she doubted it.

  “I know the way,” Calla said from the staircase, making Sophie drop her pen midnote. She hadn’t seen Calla since Calla had left to tell the other gnomes the truth about the drakostomes.

  Calla gave her a reassuring smile as she moved to Sophie’s side. Her gray eyes were rimmed with red, and Sophie couldn’t tell if that was from exhaustion or crying. But Calla’s voice was confident when she told them, “I know how to get into the city.”

  “How?” Sophie asked.

  Calla was about to answer, when she noticed the pathetic pile of fruit they’d gathered. She picked up one of the pieces, tracing her fingers sadly over the peel before setting it down and shaking her head. “One problem at a time,” she whispered.

  “What do you mean, you know the way?” Dex asked, getting back to the subject.

  “I mean there’s a secret path into Ravagog,” Calla said. “I finally solved the riddle. All the songs said to ‘embrace the heartache,’ and now that I know the truth about our past, I know what the words mean. Our leaders would’ve known we’d never give up on our homeland, and made the way back for us to return. If I sing the song of the Four Season’s Tree and embrace their heartache, their roots will open a tunnel to the ogre city.”