Neverseen (51 page)

She pressed her ear to the ground again, closing her eyes and humming a melody that felt both heartbreaking and hopeful.

“I found a way across!” Linh whisper-shouted, reminding Sophie where they were. “But I can’t hold it for long.”

Everyone rushed to the shore, where Linh raised her foot over the glowing river and stepped down.

“Follow my path exactly,” Linh said as the water turned solid under her foot. “And do not lose your balance.”

Sophie willed her clumsiness into submission as she stepped onto Linh’s rippled footprint. The water felt springy, like standing on a trampoline. Keefe followed in her wake, then Biana, Dex, and Fitz. Tam coaxed Calla away from the ground and stepped out after her. Alvar was the last to cross, and his feet had barely touched the opposite shore when Linh sank to her knees, her skin as green as the river.

“I need a moment to catch my breath,” she said.

“Take a minute—but only a minute,” Alvar told her. “From here on out it’s going to be a lot trickier, especially if we make it across the playa. Biana—make sure you stay vanished. Tam—do your best to shade the rest. Hoods up. No talking. Walk with purpose. The more you look like you belong, the more likely someone is to believe you if they spot you. And if our cover is blown—run. Use your abilities. Do whatever you have to do. If they capture you, there will be no getting out of here. Everyone clear?”

He waited for each of them to nod.

“Oh, and here,” he said, returning the Markchain to Sophie. “Stay in the center of the group, so the scent is the most evenly dispersed.”

Sophie clasped it around her neck as Alvar vanished, whispering for everyone to follow him. The path out of the canyon was steep and narrow, and they were out of breath
when they reached the top. None looked shakier than Linh.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Tam asked his sister as she reached toward the sky.

“The falling water has not been tainted.” Linh closed her eyes, her brows pressing together. Mist curled off the waterfalls and gathered into two thick gray clouds, blocking the sun and casting shadows across the playa.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Tam said, catching her when she collapsed.

“I know my limits,” Linh promised, but her voice sounded ragged. And when she tried to stand, she fell over.

“We need to keep moving,” Alvar said. “The ogres could find those clouds suspicious.”

“I’ll carry her,” Fitz told Tam. “You need to concentrate on the shadows.”

Tam reluctantly handed his sister over, and Alvar and Biana vanished again as everyone headed into the playa. They walked with slow, deliberate steps to avoid kicking up dust. Sophie kept her eyes trained on the mountain as the city came into better focus.

Metal pillars capped by green glowing fireballs illuminated the paths through the city, which were all zigzagging and narrow and treacherous. There would be no quick climb to the top, nor any way to avoid the busier parts of the city.

“That’s the Triad,” Alvar whispered, his arm blinking into sight long enough to point to the center of the mountain. A
ledge jutted farther than all the others, stretching to a sharp point between two wide waterfalls.

They were too far away to see the throne or guards, but Sophie knew they were up there.

“You sure you want to do this?” Alvar asked.

She swallowed the bile on her tongue and nodded.

The more she thought about it, the more she had to accept that there was no way they could get the cure without being seen—and King Dimitar had to be counting on that. So if they could turn his expectation on its head with a trick, it might buy them enough time to get what they needed and get out alive.

“Okay,” Alvar said, letting out a breath. “Now we head into the city.”

He led them to a stairway on the far side of the mountain, and they climbed to the lowest level of Ravagog. Alvar had them pause at the top, pressing their backs against the rockface. Sophie couldn’t tell if they were hiding or resting.

This level was a curved platform, about as wide as the bottom floor of the glass pyramid at Foxfire, and it was crammed with booths selling all kinds of foul-smelling things. Ogres bartered for better prices as the shopkeepers shouted to get their attention, the ogre language sounding blunt and clipped.

Sophie had never seen a female ogre before, and they were even harder to look at than the males. They wore only two narrow tubes of leather, one around their chest, the other their
hips, leaving most of their warty skin on display. Brittle white hair grew from a single patch in their lumpy foreheads and stuck out like wild feathers, and their eyes had a strange milkiness to them. There were children too, playing with strange metal toys that reminded Sophie of pinwheels. They chased each other through the markets, laughing as they scurried around their mother’s legs. The scene felt unnerving, but also incredibly normal. Families going about their daily lives. Sophie wondered if they even knew what terrible threats their king had made.

Fitz set Linh down and she called mist around them, thickening Tam’s shadows before they tiptoed into the crowd. Their snail’s pace went against all of Sophie’s instincts, but it gave Tam time to adjust the shadows with every movement, and Alvar time to select the best path through the ever-moving ogres. Sophie was soaked with cold sweat when they reached the end of the market and started up another flight of stairs. But they made it. One down—
many
more to go.

The second level was narrower and blissfully ogre-free, though Sophie was sure there were plenty of ogres behind the massive barred doors heading into the mountain. They sprinted the whole way across, to yet another stairway, wider than the others, with jagged carvings on each step.

As they climbed, Sophie decided it was time to transmit her crazy plan. She started with Tam and Linh, since she had no idea what they would say. Naturally, Tam shadow-whispered
that he thought she’d lost her mind. But both twins promised they’d help however she needed.

Sophie transmitted the plan to Fitz next, knowing he would have a
lot
of questions. They’d crossed another entire level—some sort of construction zone that time, filled with ogres in chains hammering at the mountain—before Fitz told her,
If that’s what you think we should do, I trust you.

Biana was easy to convince, as was Dex. Which meant it was time to stop stalling and ask Keefe. She almost changed her mind—the role she needed him to play would be the most dangerous thing any of them had ever done. But he was the only one who could pull it off.

I was wondering when you were going to include me,
Keefe thought, the second her voice filled his mind.

Oh, you’re part of this,
she promised.
You’re the most important part. But if you don’t think you can handle it—

I can handle it,
Keefe interrupted.
Boss me, Foster. I’m in.

He responded to the plan better than she’d thought. In fact, he almost seemed . . . excited.

This isn’t a game, Keefe.

No, but it’s what I’ve been wanting to do for weeks. I got this, Foster. Trust me.

I do,
Sophie promised.
I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.

She transmitted her plan to Calla next, and the tiny gnome nodded. Which meant she only had one more person to convince before things became
real.

She waited until they reached the next level—another row of barred doorways, which was thankfully ogre-free—before she transmitted,
Can I open my mind to your thoughts?

Alvar appeared at her side. “I don’t like people in my head,” he whispered. “Hazard of growing up with a telepathic father.”

“Okay,” she said, stumbling back a step. “I just wanted to tell you the plan.”

“I thought the plan was to grab the cure and run.”

“That’ll be part of it,” Sophie said. “We’re also going to create a distraction—”

“
Bad
idea,” Alvar interrupted.

“I know it’s dangerous, but we need something to keep King Dimitar busy, so Fitz and I have a chance to probe his mind.”

“WHAT?” Alvar’s whisper was so loud it sounded screechy. “Are you crazy?”

“We have to try,” she insisted. “There might be more to the Neverseen’s plan than we realize, and this is our chance to find out.”

Alvar shook his head so hard his hood slipped off. “You’re changing too many things.”

“No we’re not. We’re just taking every opportunity we get,” Fitz whispered.

“Um, guys,” Tam interrupted. “We’re in the middle of
Ravagog
. All this debating is going to get us killed.”

Alvar swore under his breath and pulled his hood back over
his head. “Fine. Let’s keep moving. Transmit the plan to me and I’ll do whatever you want.”

Sophie glanced at her friends, who seemed as unsure as her. Her plan had needed Alvar to be a lot more committed than he sounded.

As they climbed the next flight of stairs, she made a last-minute amendment. Originally she’d been thinking Alvar could share Keefe’s role, but she didn’t know him well enough to trust him with that responsibility.

She transmitted the change to Keefe before telling Alvar,
All you have to do is stay invisible—and when it’s time to run, guide us back to the tunnel. If you have a problem with that, let me know.

He stayed silent.

They made their way up two more levels, one busy with ogres, the other mostly empty, until they reached a staircase by a waterfall.

“Next level’s the Triad,” Alvar whispered. “Last chance to see reason.”

“We’re doing this,” Keefe said, his voice shaky.

He looked like the boy Sophie had seen in the physician’s tent at Exillium, but that was who she needed him to be at the moment.

She turned to her friends, and one by one they all signaled to show they were ready.

Alvar sighed. “Let’s hope nobody dies.”

Sophie refused to let the warning shake her, as Linh blanketed
them in so much mist it soaked their cloaks. Alvar took the lead, with Sophie right behind. Which meant she was the first to get a glimpse of the Triad.

The level had no railing. Just a sheer, deadly edge lined with cold metal pillars that supported the black metal awning overhead. The space was a triangle, and at the farthest point, a twisted tangle of metal formed a barbed throne, overlooking the entire kingdom. Perched proudly in the center, still wearing nothing more than his metal diaper, was King Dimitar.

A dozen ogre guards were lined up on either side of him, each one big enough to wrestle a bear one-handed. Resting at his feet was a small metal chest locked by a single round padlock, surely the cure, set out like bait.

It wasn’t too late to turn back. They might even make it out of Ravagog safely. But they needed that box—and more than that, they needed the truth.

She took one steadying breath and gave her friends the signal.

Tam called more shadows as Dex scooped up Calla and everyone except Keefe locked hands. They levitated to the top of the metal awning, hoping the roar of the waterfalls covered the soft
thunk
as they touched down.

Keefe waited until they were all safely out of sight.

Then he threw back his hood and stepped out of his shaded hiding spot, shouting,
“I demand an audience with the king!”

S
OPHIE WAS PRETTY
sure the elves didn’t have anything like the Academy Awards, but if they did, she would’ve given one to Keefe for his performance as the Desperate Runaway.

He managed to hide his anger and look both terrified and innocent as King Dimitar’s guards swarmed around him.

“I’m unarmed,” Keefe promised. “And I’m not here because of the Council. In fact, they banished me weeks ago.”

“Bring him to me,” King Dimitar ordered.

His guards dragged Keefe forward, the largest one pinning Keefe’s hands behind his back with a single meaty fist.

King Dimitar scraped at his pointed teeth as he asked, “Do you know what happens to those who trespass in my city?”

Keefe bowed his head. “Most trespassers mean you harm. I’m just here for answers.”

“So you’re not here for this?” King Dimitar scooted the locked chest forward with his clawed toes.

“I don’t know what’s in there,” Keefe said, “but it has nothing to do with me.”

King Dimitar nodded at his guard, who lifted Keefe by his neck. “If you’d like to continue breathing, you’ll tell me how you succeeded in entering my city.”

“Kind of hard to talk when you’re choking me,” Keefe wheezed.

“Let him breathe.”

The guard loosened his grip enough to let Keefe suck in a ragged breath.

King Dimitar repeated his question.

“Old gnomish or dwarven tunnel,” Keefe rasped. “By the river. It collapsed as I crawled through.”

Sophie had known Keefe was a brilliant liar, but she’d never fully appreciated his talent. He’d blended just enough truth to sell his story, and misdirected the ogres far away from the real tunnel.

“Put him down,” King Dimitar said, and the guard dropped Keefe like trash.

Keefe collapsed to his knees and hacked and wretched. Each anguished sound twisted Sophie’s heart.

He’ll be okay,
Fitz transmitted
. He’s probably laying it on thick for sympathy.

If that was Keefe’s plan, it wasn’t working.

“Elves are such weaklings,” the King said, jumping down from his throne. “Your only asset is your mind—and I could crush your skull with my thumb.”

“Maybe,” Keefe said, rising shakily to his feet. “But you don’t want to do that.”

“Oh, I believe I do,” King Dimitar said, wrapping a meaty hand around Keefe’s head.

Keefe didn’t struggle. He even sounded calm as he said, “Then you’ll never know what I came here to tell you.”

King Dimitar leaned closer, sniffing Keefe’s neck. “I know you’re not one of the rebels.”

His claws shredded Keefe’s black cloak, leaving him in his green cape, brown vest, black shirt with . . .