Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(136)

She gathered more and molded it into an orb hovering over her hand. It had a slight greenish glow that turned Sophie’s stomach.

“Sorry guys,” Keefe mumbled. “I would’ve saved some if I’d known.”

“How much do you trust him?” Tam shadow-whispered in Sophie’s ear.

Alvar? she asked.

“Him too. But I’m much more worried about your Empath buddy. He’s hiding something. That’s why he won’t let me take a reading.”

He is, Sophie agreed. But I know what it is.

Keefe probably wouldn’t want her to tell Tam, but it was the kind of secret that couldn’t stay hidden. Keefe’s mom was one of the leaders of the Neverseen.

“What do you mean by ‘was’?”

Sophie did her best to explain the situation. A long silence passed before he asked, “What do you think he’ll do if he finds out his mom is still alive?”

“I know you guys are talking about me,” Keefe said, making Sophie jump. “Care to fill me in?”

“I was asking her why the president of her fan club spends more time styling his hair than the girls do,” Tam told him.

“Dude, you did not just insult the Hair.”

Calla silenced both boys, reminding them that someone on the surface could hear them. After that, the waiting felt endless, especially since Keefe seemed determined to stare a confession out of Sophie. She closed her eyes and counted the seconds slipping away.

Eight hundred and twenty-two passed before Fitz said, “Alvar’s been gone a long time.”

“Do you think something happened to him?” Biana whispered. “I could go out and look.”

“We shouldn’t split up again,” Fitz told her. “If we leave, we all leave together. But let’s give him a few more minutes.”

Another two hundred and thirty-three seconds went by before dust rustled above them. “All clear,” Alvar whispered. “But hurry.”





SIXTY-SEVEN


OKAY, THIS PLACE is way creepier than I thought it would be,” Keefe whispered as they crawled out of the tunnel and into the underground section of Ravagog.

The city was silent, save for a steady low-frequency rumble that felt like an itch under their skin. Glowing green moss coated the dark stone walls, casting sickly light through the enormous cavern beyond. The buildings were carved into the humongous stalagmites and stalactites jutting from the floor and ceiling like sharp, jagged teeth, with tufts of stagnant fog swirling like rancid breath.

“Where are the ogres?” Fitz whispered, scanning the dark windows pressed into the rock.

“We got lucky,” Alvar said, appearing beside him. “This is the working end of the city, and right now it’s naptime. That’s why I waited a few minutes to come get you. They just went down for the count, and should be out for an hour.”

“Ogre naptime?” Dex asked.

“Not as cuddly as it sounds,” Alvar told him. “They basically push their workforce until they collapse. Then they let them rest just long enough to get back on their feet and drive them until they crash again. Their workers never get more than an hour of sleep at a time, and they keep working them until they have nothing left to give.”

Sophie shivered, realizing that would’ve been her fate if King Dimitar had gotten to choose her punishment after she had tried to read his mind. And it was the life every gnome would endure if they didn’t steal the cure.

“Hoods up,” Alvar said. “We need to get to the other side of the river before the workforce wakes up.”

Tam blanketed them with shadows and Linh added hints of mist—though she was surprised at how little control she had over the green fog. Their progress was slowed further by how closely they had to stick together, and how many twists and turns they had to make. The city had no streets or sidewalks, and there was no rhyme or reason to the jagged buildings. If Alvar hadn’t been there to guide them—they followed Calla, since she could see him—they would’ve gone in circles.

Despite the confusing layout, Sophie couldn’t help worrying that things were going too easily. After all they’d heard about the dangers of Ravagog and the efficiency of its security, they hadn’t seen a single ogre. Could everyone really be asleep?

Her question was answered when they reached the main bridge: cold metal and dark stones stretching across an enormous canyon. Pointed silver arches were scattered along the bridge, with fiery green orbs in their centers. It looked exactly how Fitz had shown her in his mind, with one dangerous exception.

At either side of the bridge, dozens of lumpy-faced ogres marched back and forth in a careful pattern, their massive barbed swords drawn and ready.

“Does the bridge always have that many guards?” Sophie asked.

“No,” Alvar whispered. “It seems like they’re expecting someone.”

“Us,” Sophie said. “They’re expecting us.”

The air turned colder as the reality settled over them.

Fitz cleared his throat. “So how do we get across?”

“I’m still working that out,” Alvar admitted as he led them behind a stalagmite where they still had a view of the bridge.

“How thick can you make the shadows?” Sophie asked Tam.

“Not enough to get past that many guards—especially in this weird green light. And look at the pattern they’re making as they march. There’s no way all nine of us could slip past at the rate we move.”