Neverseen (50 page)

“Or you could be dead,” Sophie reminded him. “Please don’t make me beg.”

Keefe let out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll wait until dawn.” His eyes found hers as he whispered, “For
you.
”

Sophie didn’t know what to make of the last part, but her heart flipped to hummingbird mode.

Mr. Forkle cleared his throat. “I suggest you all head to bed. Is anyone willing to share their room?”

“Of course,” Sophie said, quickly adding, “I meant with
Linh
.”

“I guess I’ll take Alvar with me,” Fitz said.

“Actually, I’d rather bunk with Keefe.” Alvar turned to the group and whispered, “Fitz is a cuddler.”

“You can have my room,” Dex told Tam. “I’m going to stay up tweaking the wiring on these cubes—”

“No, Mr. Dizznee, you’re going to rest,” Mr. Forkle interrupted. “You
all
are. Even you,” he told Calla, “at least take a few minutes.”

“I cannot rest while my people are suffering,” Calla argued.

Mr. Forkle decided not to argue. He shooed everyone else to their rooms, and Linh dozed off as soon as her head hit the pillow. But Sophie tossed and turned and tossed some more.

“You should be sleeping,” Calla said when Sophie tiptoed out to the main room.

Sophie sank into the shrubbery chair across from her. “I know. But I can’t rest while your people are suffering either.”

Calla set down the vest she’d been sewing, which looked exactly like the one Gethen had worn. She’d made eight others, though one was purple and had ruffles along the edges.

“Biana designed her own,” Calla explained. “I didn’t fight her since she can vanish. Plus, her design is fairly clever.” She lifted up the ruffles to show a row of carefully concealed goblin throwing stars.

Sophie traced her fingers over their shiny blades.

“You’re afraid,” Calla said quietly.

“Aren’t you?” Sophie asked.

“Mine is a different kind of fear. I don’t mind if something happens to me. But I fear for those I care about—especially you. I wish you would get the rest you need.”

She moved behind Sophie, combing her fingers through Sophie’s hair. “This was a trick my mother used when I was a little girl. Gnomish children must sleep when it’s dark, but I was a restless child. I took the needs of the forest very seriously. So my mother declared this my ‘tomorrow braid.’ As she wove it, she’d tell me to imagine anything I feared being drawn out of my mind and folded into the braid. That way those worries were tucked away for the night, but still waiting to bounce back as soon as I unbraided my hair in the morning. It’s why I still plait my hair—though now I do it to remember her.”

Sophie closed her eyes and tried to imagine her worries twisting with each careful weave Calla made.

By the time Calla was done, she was asleep.

A
NY REASON WHY
we’re not having the roots pull us to Ravagog?” Keefe asked as they fought through the cramped tunnel. “It would be way faster than walking.”

“The same reason we didn’t have the roots carry us to Exile,” Calla said. The brief pause in her song made the tunnel close tighter, and it tightened further when she added, “Roots this old only have the strength to carry us one way, and the escape will be far more crucial.”

She belted out the next verse to widen the tunnel again, and Sophie had to dry her eyes on her cloak sleeve. The lyrics officially won the prize for Most Depressing Gnomish Song Ever.
Now Sophie knew why the legends had warned of embracing the heartache.

Their Exillium skills came in handy, allowing them to see through the darkness and stay cool despite the stuffiness of the tunnel. Sophie channeled energy to her muscles to keep moving steady, but she still battled exhaustion, especially when the tunnel started to slope up.

The longer they walked, the more the roots narrowed, as if the Four Seasons Tree was stretching as far as it could reach. When the roots were no thicker than gossamer threads, Calla announced that the surface was right above them and asked if she should sing open an exit.

“Let me go out first,” Alvar whispered. “I need to figure out where we are. As soon as it’s safe, I’ll come back and get you.”

“I’ll go with you,” Biana offered.

“You should save your energy,” he said. “And I should take the Markchain to cover my scent.”

Sophie removed the silver pendant hanging from her neck and handed it to Alvar. She was still stunned Lady Cadence had agreed to loan it to them.

Tam had thought they shouldn’t bring it, worried the scent canceled his concealment. But Alvar insisted they needed to camouflage their smell as well as their appearance.

Calla sang a deep, low verse, which sounded more ominous
than Sophie would’ve liked as the earth nudged open, letting in streams of greenish light.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Alvar said, turning invisible. The only sign that he’d left was the shifting dust as he climbed out of the tunnel, and the rustling of the roots as Calla closed the earth again.

Fitz offered everyone water from a magsidian flask Mr. Forkle had given him, and Keefe guzzled the whole thing. Fortunately, the flask had been carved to draw moisture out of the air and refill itself.

“I wouldn’t drink that,” Linh warned. “There’s something wrong with the water.”

She gathered more and molded it into an orb hovering over her hand. It had a slight greenish glow that turned Sophie’s stomach.

“Sorry guys,” Keefe mumbled. “I would’ve saved some if I’d known.”

“How much do you trust him?” Tam shadow-whispered in Sophie’s ear.

Alvar?
she asked.

“Him too. But I’m much more worried about your Empath buddy. He’s hiding something. That’s why he won’t let me take a reading.”

He is,
Sophie agreed.
But I know what it is.

Keefe probably wouldn’t want her to tell Tam, but it was the kind of secret that couldn’t stay hidden.
Keefe’s mom was one of the leaders of the Neverseen
.

“What do you mean by ‘was’?”

Sophie did her best to explain the situation. A long silence passed before he asked, “What do you think he’ll do if he finds out his mom is still alive?”

“I know you guys are talking about me,” Keefe said, making Sophie jump. “Care to fill me in?”

“I was asking her why the president of her fan club spends more time styling his hair than the girls do,” Tam told him.

“Dude, you did
not
just insult the Hair.”

Calla silenced both boys, reminding them that someone on the surface could hear them. After that, the waiting felt endless, especially since Keefe seemed determined to stare a confession out of Sophie. She closed her eyes and counted the seconds slipping away.

Eight hundred and twenty-two passed before Fitz said, “Alvar’s been gone a long time.”

“Do you think something happened to him?” Biana whispered. “I could go out and look.”

“We shouldn’t split up again,” Fitz told her. “If we leave, we all leave together. But let’s give him a few more minutes.”

Another two hundred and thirty-three seconds went by before dust rustled above them. “All clear,” Alvar whispered. “But hurry.”

O
KAY, THIS PLACE
is way creepier than I thought it would be,” Keefe whispered as they crawled out of the tunnel and into the underground section of Ravagog.

The city was silent, save for a steady low-frequency rumble that felt like an itch under their skin. Glowing green moss coated the dark stone walls, casting sickly light through the enormous cavern beyond. The buildings were carved into the humongous stalagmites and stalactites jutting from the floor and ceiling like sharp, jagged teeth, with tufts of stagnant fog swirling like rancid breath.

“Where are the ogres?” Fitz whispered, scanning the dark windows pressed into the rock.

“We got lucky,” Alvar said, appearing beside him. “This is the working end of the city, and right now it’s naptime. That’s why I waited a few minutes to come get you. They just went down for the count, and should be out for an hour.”

“Ogre naptime?” Dex asked.

“Not as cuddly as it sounds,” Alvar told him. “They basically push their workforce until they collapse. Then they let them rest just long enough to get back on their feet and drive them until they crash again. Their workers never get more than an hour of sleep at a time, and they keep working them until they have nothing left to give.”

Sophie shivered, realizing that would’ve been her fate if King Dimitar had gotten to choose her punishment after she had tried to read his mind. And it was the life every gnome would endure if they didn’t steal the cure.

“Hoods up,” Alvar said. “We need to get to the other side of the river before the workforce wakes up.”

Tam blanketed them with shadows and Linh added hints of mist—though she was surprised at how little control she had over the green fog. Their progress was slowed further by how closely they had to stick together, and how many twists and turns they had to make. The city had no streets or sidewalks, and there was no rhyme or reason to the jagged buildings. If Alvar hadn’t been there to guide them—they followed Calla, since she could see him—they would’ve gone in circles.

Despite the confusing layout, Sophie couldn’t help worrying
that things were going
too
easily. After all they’d heard about the dangers of Ravagog and the efficiency of its security, they hadn’t seen a single ogre. Could
everyone
really be asleep?

Her question was answered when they reached the main bridge: cold metal and dark stones stretching across an enormous canyon. Pointed silver arches were scattered along the bridge, with fiery green orbs in their centers. It looked exactly how Fitz had shown her in his mind, with one dangerous exception.

At either side of the bridge, dozens of lumpy-faced ogres marched back and forth in a careful pattern, their massive barbed swords drawn and ready.

“Does the bridge always have that many guards?” Sophie asked.

“No,” Alvar whispered. “It seems like they’re expecting someone.”

“Us,” Sophie said. “They’re expecting us.”

The air turned colder as the reality settled over them.

Fitz cleared his throat. “So how do we get across?”

“I’m still working that out,” Alvar admitted as he led them behind a stalagmite where they still had a view of the bridge.

“How thick can you make the shadows?” Sophie asked Tam.

“Not enough to get past that many guards—especially in this weird green light. And look at the pattern they’re making as they march. There’s no way all nine of us could slip past at the rate we move.”

“And the bridge is the easy part,” Dex said, pointing to the other side.

In the distance, the other half of the city had been carved into the mountain—a series of dark ledges jutting out of the rockface like bark mushrooms climbing up a tree. Each ledge was lined with metal columns and covered by metal awnings. Stone staircases netted the ledges together and wove around the misty waterfalls cascading down the mountain.

But before they could reach the city, they’d have to cross a stretch of empty dust land, without a single tree or rock or shrub to camouflage their shadows.

“I could go on my own,” Alvar suggested.

“Uh, you’re not the only Vanisher,” Biana reminded him.

“And what do
we
do? Sit here and wait to get caught?” Fitz asked.

“We might be able to cross the water,” Linh said. “And then I could call clouds from the waterfalls to obscure our shadows.”

“Can you really control the river?” Tam asked. “That isn’t normal water.”

He pointed to the base of the steep canyon, where the river glowed with the same greenish tint as everything else.

“The ogres add an enzyme,” Alvar explained. “It makes them stronger, but I’m pretty sure its toxic for everyone else. The gates filter it out before the water flows into the valley.”

Everyone turned to Linh, whose brows were pressed together.
“I can’t part or lift the water, but . . . there might be a way. I need to get closer.”

Alvar found a trail down the sheer slope, and after several precarious minutes—and many near falls—they reached the riverbed and ducked into the shadow of the bridge.

“No one can see us here,” Tam promised as Linh moved to the water’s edge. She waved her hands back and forth, whispering strange, swishing words.

“Assuming we find a way across,” Sophie said to Alvar, “where exactly are we going?”

“I’m still deciding,” he admitted. “It has to be in either the Armorgate or the Triad. The Armorgate is their military university. It has secret caverns deep in the mountain where they develop their weapons.”

“That sounds impossible to break into,” Sophie said, imagining something out of a spy movie with lasers and retina scanners and a million kinds of alarms.

“It is,” Alvar agreed. “The Triad isn’t any better. That’s where King Dimitar holds court, in the most visible spot in the whole city. His best warriors are always at his side.”

“That would be a better place for a trap,” she realized.

King Dimitar would want something public, so everyone could witness his triumph.

“My shadows won’t fool the ogres up close,” Tam warned, guessing what she was thinking.

Sophie nodded. “We’d need a distraction.”

A plan was piecing together in her mind—one far too insane to share until she’d thought it through. But she knew one thing, “I think the Triad should be our focus.”

“Is she okay?” Dex asked, pointing to where Calla had her ear pressed against the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Sophie crawled to Calla’s side. “What happened?”

Seconds ticked by. Then Calla whispered, “I can feel them. The Panakes. They’re still here.”

S
OPHIE GLANCED DOWN
the river, desperate for a glimpse of the miraculous trees. All she saw were dark, barren rocks.

“The trees themselves are gone,” Calla whispered. “But traces of their roots remain. I can hear them singing. But I don’t understand . . .”