Neverseen (8 page)

They both shook their heads.

“I guess I should’ve figured that. I think everyone would prefer the Colony didn’t exist. As Mr. Forkle said, the gnomes who live there often blame their problems on the ogres. And the timing of this plague seems especially deliberate. If the gnomes grew sick a few weeks ago, that would mean it started right around the time Sophie tried to read King Dimitar’s mind—”

“Wait—it’s my fault the gnomes are sick?” Sophie interrupted.

“There’s no
fault
,” Della promised. “You aren’t responsible for the actions of a hostile species.”

“Besides,” Biana added, “how can ogres control disease?”

Clearly Biana had never heard of ‘germ warfare.’ And if humans were capable of it, Sophie was sure the ogres were. Lady Cadence, her old Linguistics mentor who used to live with the ogres, had even told her that ogres were experts in biochemistry.

“We have to find out more,” Sophie said, running to get her soggy clothes. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten that Oralie’s Imparter—and Kenric’s cache—were in her pockets before she’d stepped into the river.

“Show me Councillor Oralie,” she whispered, wiping water spots off the Imparter’s silver screen. Several agonizing seconds passed before Oralie’s face appeared in the center.

“Is something wrong?” Oralie asked. “Did you make it safely to the Black Swan?”

“We did,” Sophie said. “But I need to know what’s happening with the Wildwood gnomes. Did ogres attack them? Is that why you said the Neutral Territories aren’t safe?”

“Clearly I shouldn’t have said anything,” Oralie murmured. “I meant to keep you away from danger, not draw you into our investigation.”

“So you
are
investigating?” Della asked, coming up behind Sophie.

“Ms. Vacker,” Oralie said. “I suppose I should’ve figured you’d be there. Alden’s explanation for your absence felt rather thin.”

“Is the infection at Wildwood connected to me trying to read King Dimitar’s mind?” Sophie asked, getting back to the question that was making it hard to breathe.

Oralie let out a sigh. “The situation with the gnomes is far more complicated than you, or anyone, realizes. No single act is the cause for anything—and I cannot tell you anything more than that. But there’s a chance the ogres aren’t even involved. So far the only tracks we found at Wildwood—besides gnomish footprints—were made by elves.”

“Does that mean the Neverseen are behind it?” Biana asked.

“We do not know,” Oralie said. “But it’s possible.”

The idea was too horrible for words.

“This could crush Keefe,” Sophie whispered.

“A good reason to keep this information quiet,” Oralie told her. “Nothing has been confirmed. The only lesson you must take from this is to stay out of the Neutral Territories. And please don’t let yourself carry the blame. Our problems go much further than anything you’ve done.”

Sophie tried to believe her. “Will you keep me updated about the investigation?”

“I’ll do my best. For now, I must go.”

“Well,” Della said, as Oralie clicked away. “I know your minds are flooding with theories, but we need to decide what to do about Keefe. If this is true, Sophie’s right, it will devastate him. Do we want to put him through that without proof?”

Sophie glanced at Biana, relieved when she shook her head.

“I think we should wait until we know more,” Della agreed, hooking her arms around Sophie and Biana. “For now, let’s go meet the Black Swan’s Collective.”

O
KAY, I FIGURED
you guys were going to be weird,” Keefe said, “but I wasn’t expecting
this
weird.”

Sophie knew she should probably elbow him, but all she could do was stare.

The whole time she’d followed Mr. Forkle to the meeting point—a black pavilion hidden deep in the heart of the subterranean forest—she’d been imagining a group of pudgy, wrinkly elves who ate too many ruckleberries. Instead they found . . . she wasn’t sure what.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Squall, Blur, Wraith, and Granite,” Mr. Forkle told them.

“I know the titles might seem strange,” Squall said, “but
we’ve found it’s easier to remember code names when they match the disguise.”

A heavy shiver obscured Squall’s voice, and she was clearly a Froster. She’d covered herself head to toe in a thick layer of foggy ice.

Next to her stood Wraith—or rather, Wraith’s hovering silver cloak. He was a Vanisher and had turned everything invisible except his clothes. His voice sounded distant and hollow as he told them, “Welcome to Alluveterre.”

Blur introduced himself next, explaining that he was a Phaser, and could break his body down to pass through walls. But with the right concentration, he could re-form only partially. The effect reduced him to splotches of color and smudged lines and shadows.

It would’ve been the craziest thing Sophie had ever seen—if Granite hadn’t been standing next to him. Granite explained that he consumed a chalky powder called indurite, since his ability as a Telepath couldn’t disguise him. The rare mineral caused his body to crystallize and harden, turning him into a talking, roughly carved statue.

He sounded scratchy and gravelly as he said, “We’re grateful to have all of you here—including you, Ms. Vacker.”

“Della,” she corrected. “Surely if I have to call you those crazy code words, you can call me by my familiar name.”

Squall’s face crackled as she smiled. “Della it is.”

“We’ve been informed of your request to officially join our
cause,” Granite said. “And . . . it’s a tricky situation. We realize your husband has clearly shown remorse for what happened with Prentice—and that errors occurred on both sides of that situation. Still, there are some among our organization who might find you hard to trust, and we cannot damage our unity.”

“But you’re accepting
us
,” Biana said, pointing to herself and Fitz.

“You have proven yourselves,” Wraith reminded her.

“I’m prepared to prove myself as well,” Della promised. “I’ll swear any oath, submit to any test. All I want is a chance to set the past right.”

The Collective turned to each other and Sophie was sure they were debating the matter telepathically. The Council used the same trick, so no one could hear them argue.

“We believe you,” Mr. Forkle eventually said. “And are willing to give this arrangement a try. You can swear fealty tonight with the others.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Sophie asked, hoping there was no embarrassing ritual.

“It’s a simple process,” Granite said. “It’ll make more sense when you receive your packages. They’ll be delivered to your rooms before your bedtime.”

“Wait—we have a
bedtime
?” Keefe asked.

“Yes, Mr. Sencen, your curfew will be midnight—and that means lights
out
,” Mr. Forkle said. “We also expect you to stay
in your separate houses for the remainder of the night. Every morning you’ll meet for breakfast, then spend the rest of the day with your lessons.”

“What kinds of lessons?” Biana asked.

“Exercises to better prepare you for the tasks ahead. You’re all very talented, but you’ve only begun to hone your abilities. We will mentor you when we can, and when we’re unavailable, your rooms have been stocked with books and assignments.”

“Or we could, y’know, work on hunting down the Neverseen,” Keefe suggested.

“The Neverseen are not a pressing threat at the moment,” Blur said.

“You’re kidding, right?” Keefe asked. “They’re running around starting fires—”

“
One
fire,” Granite corrected.

“That you know of,” Fitz countered.

“No, Mr. Vacker,
one
fire,” Granite insisted. “We have eyes all over the world. If anything burns, we know about it. Just like we were there to extinguish the Florence fire. And now that Gethen has been moved, the Neverseen have disappeared without a trace. We must wait for them to reveal themselves before we take further action.”

“Unless they already did something,” Sophie said, careful to keep her words vague.

Mr. Forkle cocked his head. “I see you have all kinds of theories.”

Sophie backed away. “Are you
reading my mind
?”

“Of course.” He didn’t sound sorry.

“Does that mean I can poke around your head?” she countered.

“By all means, be my guest.”

Sophie ignored his confident smile as she tried to open her mind to his thoughts . . .

Or Granite’s thoughts . . .

Or Wraith’s . . .

Or Blur’s . . .

Or Squall’s . . .

“I made your Telepathy unstoppable,” Mr. Forkle said, “but that doesn’t mean it can’t be deceived. Once you figure out what that means, you’ll earn the right to hear what I’m thinking.”

“That’s not good enough!” Sophie snapped. “Just because I’m here doesn’t give you the right to invade my privacy.”

Mr. Forkle started to argue, but Granite placed a rocky hand on his shoulder.

“If we maintain the rules of telepathy,” Granite asked her, “would that make you more comfortable?”

“A little,” Sophie mumbled.

“Then consider that our arrangement—and remember that the rules apply to you as well,” Granite told her.

I will still transmit to you on occasion,
Mr. Forkle added, making Sophie jump as his voice filled her head.
But I will not open
my mind to your thoughts or hear your reply unless you transmit back to me. I hope this proves that we do consider your wants and concerns. Clearly it’s going to take time to adjust to our new working arrangement. But we are on the same side, even if our approaches differ. And since I already saw what you were thinking, let me go ahead and assure you that we are investigating the gnomes’ situation
,
and we have seen no obvious signs of the Neverseen’s involvement. The footprints Oralie mentioned—and by the way, you should use that Imparter she gave you
very
sparingly—belonged to two teenagers living nearby.

Why are there teenagers living near Wildwood
?

Most likely they’ve been banished. But they were clearly not a threat to the gnomes. So you can let go of your conspiracy theories for the moment. Give us time to investigate properly
.

“We know you two are having a secret conversation,” Keefe interrupted. “Care to share with the rest of us?”

“He was just clarifying something,” Sophie said.

“Was it about Gethen?” Keefe asked. “You promised to tell us about the interrogations.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” Mr. Forkle said. “Each time I’ve tried to probe his mind, he was . . . unresponsive.”

“So do a memory break,” Keefe pressed.

“You misunderstand what I mean by ‘unresponsive.’ His head currently appears to be empty. There are no thought processes. No dreams. No memories of any kind. I’ve never seen a defense like it, and I’ve yet to figure out how to counter it.”

“Do you think it’d help if I tried to heal him?” Sophie asked.

“That would be far too dangerous,” Granite said. “It’s possible his goal is to lure you into his mind and trap you there. Isn’t that what Fintan tried to do during his healing?”

Sophie winced at the memory. If Fitz hadn’t dragged her back to consciousness, Fintan would’ve burned her alive without her even realizing.

“But you’re taking the same risk when you search his mind, aren’t you?” she asked Mr. Forkle.

“I am
far
less valuable than you—as are we all.”

“He’s right,” Squall agreed. “And I’m sorry, but I must get back or someone will notice I’m missing.” She removed a frosted purple-black crystal from her crackly cloak and leaped away in a flurry of snow.

“Now, what was I saying?” Mr. Forkle asked, watching the snowflakes swirl.

“You were making excuses for why we can’t find the Neverseen,” Keefe told him. “Pretty lame ones, if you ask me.”

“So you feel it’s
lame
to keep Sophie safe?” Granite asked.

“No—but it’s lame to not use
me,
” Keefe argued. “We know some of the Neverseen are in Ravagog. Give me a green crystal and I’ll hunt them down.”

“That is the most supremely absurd idea I’ve ever heard,” Mr. Forkle told him.

Sophie had to agree. King Dimitar had taken out her humongous goblin bodyguard with a single punch from
his apelike fist. And the ogre who’d grabbed her during the attack on Mount Everest had literally dragged her through ice and stone.

“If they catch you, they’ll kill you,” she whispered.

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing breaking into places is my specialty,” Keefe told her.

“This isn’t sneaking into the principal’s office,” Fitz said.

“I can handle it,” Keefe insisted. “And
now
is the time to make our move. The Neverseen are scrambling. We caught Gethen. Brant’s all charred and burned. And my mom”—he cringed at the word—“isn’t as tough as she’s pretending to be. She won’t last long with the ogres. She needs gourmet dinners and fancy clothes—and she’s horrible with bad smells.”

“That may be,” Mr. Forkle said, “but you’re forgetting that trespassing on ogre land violates our treaty. We cannot spark a war.”

“Haven’t they already voided the treaty by helping the Neverseen?” Fitz asked.

“King Dimitar is claiming that was done by a band of ogre rebels,” Blur explained. “If they’re acting without his permission, the Council can’t hold him responsible.”

“Does the Council honestly believe him?” Sophie asked.

“Besides, aren’t we rebels too?” Dex added. “If they caught Keefe, wouldn’t the Council be able to give the same excuse?”

“Why is everyone assuming I’m going to get caught?” Keefe asked. “You guys are clearly forgetting how awesome I am!”

“And yet you wore an ogre homing device for weeks with no inkling of its existence,” Mr. Forkle reminded him. “I’m not saying that to fault you. Simply to help you realize what we’re up against. The ogres have defenses far beyond our knowledge and experience. And as for your thoughts, Mr. Dizznee, you saw how King Dimitar reacted when Sophie attempted to read his mind. How do you think he’d react to someone invading his city?”