Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(119)

That happened back when I was trying to find you, Fitz transmitted. I’d already ruled out the girl I’d gone to see, and I was getting ready to leave when I saw a group of kids kicking pigeons. One bird had a damaged wing and I was worried they were going to kill it, so I used telekinesis to lift it to safety. I didn’t know anyone was near me. But that kid saw, and when I ran, he chased me, and he kept shouting things in a language I couldn’t understand.

Wow, I can’t believe how much you went through when you were trying to find me.

It was worth it.

Her cheeks flamed, which was of course when Keefe came out of his room. He didn’t acknowledge anyone as he plopped into one of the beanbag chairs near Sophie, but she could’ve sworn he muttered something about Sophitz.

“My turn?” Fitz asked.

Sophie nodded, imagining that all her most embarrassing secrets had trails lined with the safe, pretty things they were supposed to be avoiding. The trick might’ve worked, because the cue Fitz learned wasn’t embarrassing—though it was the kind of secret she should’ve been guarding much harder.

“221B Baker Street,” he said.

Her mind showed him a glass marble floating in a black void.

“Oh, is that how you retrieve the cache?” Fitz asked, then covered his mouth. “Sorry, didn’t mean to say that out loud. And I didn’t wreck anything by saying the words, right?”

“Nope, it only works with my voice.”

Dex ended their conversation by jumping to his feet, screaming, “I DID IT!”

“You got the Twiggler to work?” Sophie asked, rushing to his side. “Does that mean you can use keywords now?”

“And all kinds of other things,” Dex said. “Like, if I do this”—he spun the wheels he’d attached like knobs—“it pulls up all the files that have text blacked out. And right here”—he spun to the middle of the scroll—“it tells us what the drakostomes are. They’re nematodes!”

“Are those some sort of frog?” Biana asked.

“They’re parasites,” Calla corrected. “Microscopic parasitic roundworms. I’ve cured many kinds from many forests.”

The five friends looked at each other, knowing what that meant.

“What am I looking at?” Calla asked, leaning closer to the hologram. “This looks like an ancient scroll.”

Dex nodded slowly, realizing their mistake the same moment as Sophie.

“Maybe we should—” she started.

But she was too late.

“Is this a transcript of the ogre treaty negotiations?” Calla asked. “Why is it talking about nematodes? I don’t . . .”

Calla sank to her knees as the understanding washed over her.

“They knew?” she whispered. Her eyes locked with Sophie’s. “You knew?”

“Not for sure,” Sophie promised. “Not until right now.”

Calla stumbled back, rushing for the stairs.

“Wait,” Sophie called, chasing after her. “I know this is huge, but we need to think this through before we tell anyone. Once the news breaks, there’s going to be chaos.”

Calla’s voice was as hollow as her eyes as she whispered, “The Council has wasted far too much time already. Now we’re too late.”


“YOU TOLD CALLA?” Mr. Forkle shouted, storming around the girls’ common room.

“Not on purpose. Calla was here when Dex had the breakthrough,” Fitz said.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Dex asked.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that’s how it happened,” Fitz said.

“Plus . . . Calla has a right to know, doesn’t she?” Sophie asked.

She couldn’t stop picturing the betrayal she’d seen in Calla’s eyes.

Mr. Forkle rubbed his temples. “I think it’s important we try to remember that the Council still could have good reasons.”

“Like what?” Sophie had to ask.

“Perhaps they didn’t want the gnomes to live their lives under constant fear,” Mr. Forkle suggested. “Or perhaps they worried what would happen if other species discovered the ogres held this powerful weapon? Don’t you think someone else might try to get their hands on the drakostomes as well? It would put them in exponentially more danger.”

Sophie sighed, no longer sure what to think.

“I must speak with the Collective,” Mr. Forkle said. “We must try to prepare for the backlash.”

“What kind of backlash do you think there will be?” Sophie asked.

“Like nothing we’ve ever seen.”

He leaped away before she could ask any further questions, and when he returned hours later, she’d never seen him look so pale.

“The gnomes are gathering in Eternalia for a protest,” he said, sinking into one of the chairs. “The Lost Cities are in chaos.”

“So what happens now?” Biana asked.

“Now we wait for the Council to respond.”

Three endless days passed, giving everyone a glimpse of life in the Lost Cities without the gnomes. Fruit fell from wilting trees, bushes sagged, grass shriveled, gardens yellowed.

On the morning of the fourth day, the Council sent out scrolls informing everyone that they’d be giving a statement in Eternalia that afternoon.