Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(148)

“But—”

Calla placed her finger on Sophie’s lips. “You can’t change this, Sophie. Do not try.”

“So you’re saying the Panakes were gnomes,” Councillor Emery said, breaking the silence.

“Brave Ones who choose to shift their form,” Calla agreed. “Their sacrificed life energy nourished the Panakes to give them the power of healing.”

“Fascinating,” Councillor Terik whispered.

Bronte shook his head. “All this time, we never realized the cure was within our control.”

“What control?” Sophie asked. “She has to die for this. Calla, you can’t—”

“I must,” Calla interrupted. “Don’t tell me you would not do the same, if you could save your friends.”

Tears gathered in Sophie’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “But you’re my friend too.”

Calla smiled. “I know. And I do this to help you, as well.” She turned to the Council, her gray eyes hardening. “Remove the banishment from these children—all of them. Even the two who’ve left. They saved my species. I wouldn’t know this path to the cure without them.”

“I agree,” Councillor Bronte said, ignoring Councillor Alina’s huff. “It is time we start correcting our past errors.”

The Councillors murmured among themselves, but Sophie couldn’t listen. She was too busy trying to think of a way to change Calla’s mind.

She only paid attention when Councillor Emery called, “All in favor?”

All twelve Councillors raised their hands.

Grady and Edaline rushed to hug Sophie, scooping up Dex and Keefe in the process. Sophie pulled away, not ready to celebrate.

“Calla,” she started.

“This was my choice,” Calla interrupted. “I made it willingly. And it cannot be undone. I’ve already let my final song settle into my heart. There’s no stopping the shift now.”

Elwin made his way over, flashing colored orbs around Calla. “She’s right. It looks like everything inside her is slowing down.”

“How long do you have?” Grady asked, holding Sophie steady as everything spun too fast.

Calla stared at her hands, where the green coloring was already spreading beyond her thumbs. “Sometime tonight the final shift will happen, and by morning you’ll find my tree.”

“Morning,” Sophie repeated, her voice breaking.

That was too soon. Everything was happening so fast—she couldn’t . . .

“Hey,” Keefe said as Sophie pulled away from Grady. He took her hands. “It’s okay.”

“How is it okay?” she yelled. “Calla’s dying.”

“I’m changing,” Calla corrected. “And I don’t mind—see?”

She offered Keefe her hand, and he placed his palm over hers and closed his eyes.

“She really does feel at peace,” he said.

“I am.” Calla wiped Sophie’s tears. “Please don’t cry for me. This is my happy ending. How many get to choose their last breath, and make it for the good of everyone?”

“But I’m going to miss you so much,” Sophie cried.

“And when you do, you can come sit under my tree.” Calla turned to Grady and Edaline. “I have one favor to ask. I must set my roots down somewhere. And the earth feels peaceful here.”

“Of course,” Edaline whispered. “Our home is your home.”

“Anywhere you’d like,” Grady added. “Even if you want the middle of a pasture.”

Calla pointed to a small hill overlooking the other pastures. Sophie knew if she stood there, she could see the ocean.

“That will be my place,” Calla said, “from this day forward.”

“We’ll make sure your Panakes is nurtured and protected,” Grady promised.

“No,” Sophie said. “There has to be something I can do—”

“There is,” Calla interrupted. “You can listen to my songs. And you can make starkflower stew and pour a bowl into the ground to share it with me. And you stay my brave moonlark, always.”

She reached for Sophie’s allergy remedy necklace, planting a kiss on the pin.

Then she pulled Sophie close for a final hug.

“You must go now,” Calla whispered. “I don’t want you to witness the shift. Go inside—all of you. Please.”

Everyone watched in silence as Calla climbed the hill—her hill. The last place she would ever stand.

“Go,” she said again, planting her feet firmly in the center. “Let us all find rest.”

She closed her eyes then, swaying with the breeze. The faintest hum of her melody drifted through the night, turning the air restful. Singing of the coming dawn.

“Goodbye,” Sophie whispered, so softly she was sure Calla couldn’t hear her.

Calla opened her eyes. “Farewell, Sophie Foster.”





SEVENTY-FIVE


THEY MOVED OUT of Calla’s sight, near a pasture filled with grazing griffins. The Council left quickly, promising they’d return in the morning to check the Panakes.

Elwin vowed to come as well, in the hopes that there’d be blossoms ready to harvest. None of the gnomes in Lumenaria were showing red yet, but the sooner they got the cure, the better.