Neverseen (7 page)

“Keep telling yourself that,” one of the other gnomes told him. Sophie assumed the gnome was a “he,” since he wore grass-woven overalls instead of a grass skirt like the other two. But it was hard to tell. Gnomes all had the same huge gray eyes and bodies like children. They lived with the elves by choice and were incredibly industrious creatures. More plantlike than animal, they absorbed all their energy from the sun, and needed very little sleep—and even less food. But they craved work and loved to garden, so they traded their harvest with the elves and filled their sleepless days with elvin tasks. Alden had called it a symbiotic relationship, and the longer Sophie had lived with the elves, the more she agreed. The elves cared for the gnomes, and the gnomes worked happily, neither side imposing upon the other.

“I’m Calla,” the gnome with the braid told Sophie, “and this is Sior and Amisi. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Sophie fidgeted as Calla dipped an exaggerated curtsy. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

The other gnomes nodded and turned back to the eckodons, but Calla kept right on staring at Sophie. Her expression was a mixture of awe and curiosity, and Sophie wondered what the Black Swan had told the gnomes about her.

“We’ll take your bags to your rooms,” Sior—the gnome in
the overalls—said. He grabbed Sophie’s backpack from Fitz.

“And we have fresh clothes for you upstairs,” Calla added. “Well, for most of you. I didn’t realize you were coming, Miss . . .”

“Della. And not to worry, I’m a surprise visitor.”

“Should we add a room in the east tree house?” Calla asked.

Mr. Forkle nodded. “Preferably up high, so it overlooks both residences.”

“I thought the Collective had to approve me staying,” Della said.

“They have to approve you
joining our order
,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “But either way, it would be too risky to send you home. The Council has surely discovered that you’re missing. So consider yourself our guest, and a much needed chaperone.”

“Chaperone?”
Keefe whined. “That’s going to cramp my style.”

“Yes, it is,” Della agreed. “Remember, I kept Alvar in line for years.”

Keefe sighed dreamily. “Alvar’s my hero.”

Sophie had only met Fitz and Biana’s older brother a few times, and he’d always seemed very polished and professional. But she’d heard rumors of Alvar’s wild side before, and knew it had to be pretty crazy for Keefe to look up to him.

“We should have the new room ready by sunset,” Amisi—
the third gnome—said. “Though there are fewer of us, so we might need another hour.”

“Yes, where are Gora and Yuri?” Mr. Forkle asked. “I didn’t see them yesterday, either.”

The three gnomes shared a look.

“They . . . have gone to stay near Lumenaria,” Calla said after a moment. “In the hopes they’ll be allowed to visit the refugees. Yuri had family in Wildwood.”

“I did not realize,” Mr. Forkle whispered. “I hope good news finds them soon.”

“So do we.”

Charged silence passed before the gnomes grabbed the buckets and satchels and shuffled off into the trees.

“What’s Wildwood?” Sophie asked.

Mr. Forkle sighed. “Is this how it’s going to be? Constant questions?”

“Pretty much,” Sophie agreed.

“Well, do not expect an answer every time. But Wildwood was where a small colony of gnomes lived. Most of their race fled to the Lost Cities after the ogres overthrew Serenvale, their ancient homeland. But a few gnomes refused to leave and took up residence in one of the Neutral Territories, in a grove not far from the borders of what has now become the ogres’ capital city.”

“Why are you speaking past tense?” Della asked. “Calla said something about refugees.”

“A better term would be ‘evacuees,’ ” Mr. Forkle corrected. “Some sort of plague struck the colony a few weeks back, and forced them to flee. They arrived in Lumenaria three days ago for medical treatment. And that is the extent of my knowledge. The Council has been
extremely
guarded with their information, and at the moment they’re allowing no visitors. But I do know that all of our best physicians are working to isolate the pathogen. I’m sure they’ll find the cure soon.”

Della looked less than satisfied with the answer.

Sophie wasn’t thrilled either. “Oralie told us before we left that she thought the ogres were stirring in the Neutral Territories. Does this have something to do with that?”

Mr. Forkle scratched his chin. “Interesting that a Councillor would agree with the theories.”

“What theories?” Sophie pressed.

“This is your last question,” he warned. “The Wildwood Colony has claimed ogre sabotage for centuries. But they’ve never been able to provide proof. I’ll have to rally my sources and see if Oralie has evidence for her suspicions. In the meantime, please put this out of your mind. You know better than most, Miss Foster, how truly powerful our medicine can be. I have no doubt the gnomes will recover soon. Shall we?”

He motioned for everyone to follow him toward one of the stair-wrapped trees, and they climbed to the bridge that connected the two houses.

He pointed to the gazebo in the center, filled with pots of
vibrant flowers and a round table with cozy chairs. “Since you’ll be dwelling in separate residences, we arranged this common eating area. Dinner will be served here—and you’re in for a treat. Calla’s starkflower stew is life changing. Otherwise, boys are that way”—he pointed to the tree house across the bridge—“and the girls are just above us. I must return to the Lost Cities and be
seen
for a few minutes.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of green-and-orange-speckled berries.

“So
that’s
how you de-Forkle!” Dex said. “I should’ve guessed it was callowberries. My dad uses them in his anti-inflammatory ointments. They smell like flareadon poop.”

“Taste like it too,” Mr. Forkle agreed.

“So all we need to do is crush a few of those into your breakfast, and bam! Instant Forkle-reveal?” Keefe asked.

“I’ve been consuming callowberries for thirteen years, Mr. Sencen. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t notice the smell?”

“I dunno—I’m
really
good at hiding things in people’s food.”

Mr. Forkle ignored him, holding up a black crystal with a purple gleam.

“Does that mean we can light leap from here?” Della asked.

“Only with special crystals, which we will provide if needed.”

“What’s this ‘if’ stuff?” Dex asked.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’re prisoners,” Sophie said.

“Of course you’re not. But you are
fugitives.
And you came here for our protection. This is how we provide it.”

“It sounds like we’re going to have to steal that crystal from you,” Keefe said.

“You would be very disappointed if you did. This crystal leads to my safe house, where I go to change identities. Anyone who does not know the secret for leaving is instantly trapped.”

“So . . . that’s it?” Sophie asked. “Here’s your tree houses, have some stew and good night?”

“Hardly, Miss Foster. First you must get cleaned up and meet me at ground level in an hour. You all have an appointment with the rest of our ruling Collective.”

T
HANK GOODNESS THEY
have decent taste in clothes!” Biana said, twirling in her pale pink gown, which was frilly and ruffled and looked like cupcake frosting with pearl sprinkles.

Sophie was far less excited about hers. The smoky blue dress was dotted with diamonds, like the first glinting stars in the evening sky. But it was so fancy and fitted and screamed
Look at me!

“Seriously, what’s
with
the gowns?” she grumbled. “Aren’t we supposed to be fighting rebels and solving conspiracies?”

“Actually, right now we have an important meeting,” Della reminded her. “So why not look our best?”

“But why do
we
have to look like pretty pretty princesses when the boys get to wear pants and tunics?”

Della laughed. “Sometimes I forget how much your human upbringing has altered your worldview. Our society has not been plagued by the inequalities you’ve grown up with. No one views gowns as a sign of our gender’s lesser status. We don’t
have
a lesser status. So if you truly hate wearing a dress, you can choose to wear anything you’d like.”

“Even if I visit a noble city?” Sophie asked.

“Of course. The only mark of noble status is a cape, and even then, some instances do not require them. All of our clothes—male and female—are designed to enhance natural beauty.”

“But . . .”

Sophie had been about to ask,
What if someone isn’t beautiful?
—until she’d remembered she was talking about
elves
.

“Okay, but isn’t parading around like this”—she ran her hands over her jewel-encrusted bodice—“sort of shallow?”

“Surely you know we value knowledge and talent above everything else,” Della said. “Beauty is simply a bonus, to make life more pleasing to the eye. And that applies to everything in our world—not just our physical appearance.”

She waved her arm around the bright room, which was different from what Sophie had been imagining. There were no jewels or crystals like the elves usually built with. Instead, everything was earthy and natural. Fall-colored leaves had been woven into brightly patterned rugs, which felt softer than dandelion fluff but still made that great crunching sound
when they walked. Flowering branches lined the walls, filling the air with the scent of spring. The furniture looked like carefully sculpted shrubs, and garlands of bright summer berries draped from the ceiling. But the most breathtaking element had to be the shimmering waterfall in the center. It trickled from the skylight along twisted icicles, dripping into a pool of frost-covered stones.

Somehow the gnomes had taken the best parts of each season and transformed them into a place that was both elegant and inviting.

“Everything in our world celebrates beauty,” Della said proudly. “Why surround ourselves with ugliness when there is wonder to showcase?”

“I guess,” Sophie mumbled, fussing with her sash. No matter how many times she tied it, she couldn’t get the bow even.

“Here,” Della said, knotting it as perfectly as a Disney princess. “This color really sets off your eyes.”

“Great,” Sophie mumbled. “Just what I wanted.”

“Hey, your eyes are what I always hear everyone talking about,” Biana reminded her.

“Yeah, because they’re calling me a freak.”

“That’s only Stina and her bratty friends. Everyone else thinks they’re striking and unique.”

Della sighed when Sophie shrugged off the compliment. “It must’ve been hard growing up as an elf among humans—and
I don’t mean because you’re a Telepath, though I know that came with its own challenges. Jealousy is such a powerful force in their lives—and you have so many gifts.”

“How do you know so much about humans?” Sophie asked.

“
That
is a story for another time. But I’ve walked among them, and the reception I received was less than friendly.”

“Is that how it was for you?” Biana asked Sophie.

“Everyone pretty much hated me,” Sophie admitted. “They’d call me the Freakazoid, or Superdork, or the Special Sophieflake. But it didn’t help that I skipped six grades and had a bad habit of reminding teachers to collect our homework.”

“It’s better here, though, right?” Biana asked.

“In some ways. But I’m also ‘the human girl.’ And the Girl Who Was Taken. And now everyone looks at me like I’m public enemy number one.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” Della said. “And someday they’ll see that. In the meantime, please try to remember that there’s a difference between hiding by
choice
and hiding from
fear
. You should never be afraid of who you are.”

Sophie fussed with her perfect Della bow, accidentally messing it up.

She decided not to fix it.

“Look—they gave us Prattles!” Biana said, lifting a huge welcome basket she’d discovered. She handed Sophie the silver
box with her name on it, then tore into her own, going straight for the tiny velvet pouch tucked among the nutty candy.

Every box of Prattles came with a collectible pin, shaped as one of the various animal species on the planet. Prattles limited the amount of each pin to how many of that creature existed, which meant some pins were extremely rare.

Biana held up her bluish green water-horse. “I’ve been wanting a Prattles’ kelpie forever! What’d you get?”

Sophie crunched on a piece of the candy as she fished out her pin, nearly choking when she saw the silver bird with long, gleaming feathers.

“The Prattles’ moonlark,” Biana whispered. “There are less than a hundred of those.”

And yet somehow the Black Swan had now given Sophie
two
.

The last time they gave her one, they’d been trying to convince her to stop the Everblaze. What were they trying to tell her this time?

She checked for a note and found nothing, but she was sure the pin couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Do you
really
trust the Black Swan?” Sophie asked Della, pinning the moonlark through the cord of her allergy remedy necklace before tucking it under her gown’s bodice.

“There are many shades of trust,” Della said, “and most of them are gray. But I’ve decided to hope for the best. Do you know why?”

Sophie shook her head.

“Because of
you
. If all their scheming resulted in such an incredible person, that’s a cause I can get behind.”

She meant the words to be comforting—and they were. Sort of.

They also were a storm in Sophie’s mind. A heavy pressure and an ominous rumble, warning of turbulence ahead.

Which reminded her . . . “You didn’t look happy with Mr. Forkle’s explanation about the gnomes from Wildwood.”

Della smiled. “Alden warned me that you’re
very
perceptive.”

“I have to be. Otherwise no one tells me anything.”

“I suppose that’s true.” She sank into one of the armchair-shaped shrubberies. “Have either of you studied the Wildwood Colony in multispeciesial studies?”