Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(127)

“You have one week to make your choice,” King Dimitar added. “Either I will find you at the gates to Ravagog, ready to serve, or I will unleash the plague. And I wouldn’t count on the protection of the elves. The distribution system is already in place. Hide here, and the drakostomes will contaminate the Lost Cities.”

“A life serving the ogres is no life at all,” Oralie shouted to the gnomes.

“Funny, I thought death from disease was far less of a life,” Fintan corrected. “But as I said, it’s your choice. You have a week.”

With that, Fintan leaped away—but not before tossing his sphere of Everblaze at the Council. The silver stage burst into flames, and the Councillors scattered as the goblins rushed to pull them to safety. Others cried for the reserves of frissyn. Through the chaos, Sophie caught the briefest glimpse of King Dimitar laughing as he vanished into the ground.

“This was my mom’s vision,” Keefe said, shaking so hard Sophie knew he would collapse any second. His skin felt cold to the touch and his eyes looked glazed.

“What’s wrong with him?” Dex asked.

“I think he’s in shock.” Sophie hoped that was all it was, but she couldn’t help thinking about how Alden had looked after he first saw Prentice in Exile—when his mind first started to shatter.

Keefe had just seen his father. And King Dimitar pretty much confirmed his mom was dead. And Fintan had claimed that this horrible mess had been her idea. And thanks to Lady Gisela’s note, Keefe knew she did it all for him.

“Keefe needs help,” she told Sir Astin.

“I agree,” he said. “Your disguises are also nearly gone. But it would be unwise to head straight to Alluveterre, in case the ogres are tracing any leaps.”

“So where are we supposed to go?” Dex asked.

“With me,” a sharp voice said behind them. “I can hide them at Sterling Gables.”

Sophie spun around and found Timkin Heks. Her confusion morphed into disbelief when Sir Astin agreed.

“Wait,” Sophie said as Timkin tried to take Keefe from her.

“It’ll be okay,” Sir Astin promised, holding a crystal up to the sunlight. “I’ll meet you there as soon as I speak with the Collective.”

He was gone before she could argue.

“Come on,” Timkin said, dragging her, Dex, and Keefe toward his wife, who had a path already created for them.

“We can’t leave Fitz and Biana,” Sophie argued.

“Alden already took them away,” Timkin said.

“And why should we trust you?” Dex asked, locking his knees to slow their momentum.

“Because Mr. Forkle isn’t the only one with multiple names.”

It took Sophie a second to figure out what he meant—and also who he could be.

She squinted at Timkin, trying to imagine him covered head to toe in white curly fur as she asked, “Coiffe?”

“Yes. Now come with me.”





SIXTY-THREE


TIMKIN BROUGHT THEM to an expansive manor made of silver and crystal, surrounded by lush pastures filled with grazing unicorns.

“This is where you live,” Sophie said, not sure what surprised her more—that she was at Stina’s house, or that it was so bright and lovely. She’d always imagined the Hekses lived somewhere with blackened windows and crumbling walls, surrounded by gargoyles and craggy trees and a bunch of growling animals.

“We need to get him to lie down before he gets any paler,” Timkin said, dragging Keefe toward the house.

Dex grabbed Sophie’s arm. “Do you really think we can trust him?”

“He’s Coiffe,” she reminded him, still trying to wrap her head around it.

“But it’s the Hekses,” Dex said.

“I know. But . . . Fintan is alive. The Neverseen and the ogres are trying to force the gnomes into slavery. I think it’s time to admit the world no longer makes any sense.”

Dex couldn’t argue with that.

So they followed their enemy into his house, which was decorated in pale blues and greens, like grass and sky. The furniture was plush, and the crystal walls were hung with family portraits. It wasn’t as grand as Everglen, or as pristine as Havenfield, but it was the most homey house Sophie had encountered in the Lost Cities.

“Do you have an Imparter on you?” Timkin asked as he brought Keefe to the couch.

Sophie shook her head. “I left it back at Alluveterre.”

“Fine, wait here,” Timkin told them, “And don’t touch anything.”

Sophie dropped to her knees next to Keefe and tried to get him to look at her. “It’s going to be okay,” she said, taking his clammy hand.

Keefe didn’t blink.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Dex said, studying a humongous portrait of Stina on the wall. “Nothing about it makes any sense.”

“You don’t make sense,” a snotty voice said behind them.

Sophie cringed, allowing herself one breath before she turned to face Stina—and found a fun bonus to put the cherry on top of the awkward moment.

Marella looked anywhere but at Sophie as she asked, “What’s wrong with Keefe?”

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted.