Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(17)



“Keep telling yourself that,” one of the other gnomes told him. Sophie assumed the gnome was a “he,” since he wore grass-woven overalls instead of a grass skirt like the other two. But it was hard to tell. Gnomes all had the same huge gray eyes and bodies like children. They lived with the elves by choice and were incredibly industrious creatures. More plantlike than animal, they absorbed all their energy from the sun, and needed very little sleep—and even less food. But they craved work and loved to garden, so they traded their harvest with the elves and filled their sleepless days with elvin tasks. Alden had called it a symbiotic relationship, and the longer Sophie had lived with the elves, the more she agreed. The elves cared for the gnomes, and the gnomes worked happily, neither side imposing upon the other.

“I’m Calla,” the gnome with the braid told Sophie, “and this is Sior and Amisi. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Sophie fidgeted as Calla dipped an exaggerated curtsy. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

The other gnomes nodded and turned back to the eckodons, but Calla kept right on staring at Sophie. Her expression was a mixture of awe and curiosity, and Sophie wondered what the Black Swan had told the gnomes about her.

“We’ll take your bags to your rooms,” Sior—the gnome in the overalls—said. He grabbed Sophie’s backpack from Fitz.

“And we have fresh clothes for you upstairs,” Calla added. “Well, for most of you. I didn’t realize you were coming, Miss . . .”

“Della. And not to worry, I’m a surprise visitor.”

“Should we add a room in the east tree house?” Calla asked.

Mr. Forkle nodded. “Preferably up high, so it overlooks both residences.”

“I thought the Collective had to approve me staying,” Della said.

“They have to approve you joining our order,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “But either way, it would be too risky to send you home. The Council has surely discovered that you’re missing. So consider yourself our guest, and a much needed chaperone.”

“Chaperone?” Keefe whined. “That’s going to cramp my style.”

“Yes, it is,” Della agreed. “Remember, I kept Alvar in line for years.”

Keefe sighed dreamily. “Alvar’s my hero.”

Sophie had only met Fitz and Biana’s older brother a few times, and he’d always seemed very polished and professional. But she’d heard rumors of Alvar’s wild side before, and knew it had to be pretty crazy for Keefe to look up to him.

“We should have the new room ready by sunset,” Amisi—the third gnome—said. “Though there are fewer of us, so we might need another hour.”

“Yes, where are Gora and Yuri?” Mr. Forkle asked. “I didn’t see them yesterday, either.”

The three gnomes shared a look.

“They . . . have gone to stay near Lumenaria,” Calla said after a moment. “In the hopes they’ll be allowed to visit the refugees. Yuri had family in Wildwood.”

“I did not realize,” Mr. Forkle whispered. “I hope good news finds them soon.”

“So do we.”

Charged silence passed before the gnomes grabbed the buckets and satchels and shuffled off into the trees.

“What’s Wildwood?” Sophie asked.

Mr. Forkle sighed. “Is this how it’s going to be? Constant questions?”

“Pretty much,” Sophie agreed.

“Well, do not expect an answer every time. But Wildwood was where a small colony of gnomes lived. Most of their race fled to the Lost Cities after the ogres overthrew Serenvale, their ancient homeland. But a few gnomes refused to leave and took up residence in one of the Neutral Territories, in a grove not far from the borders of what has now become the ogres’ capital city.”

“Why are you speaking past tense?” Della asked. “Calla said something about refugees.”

“A better term would be ‘evacuees,’?” Mr. Forkle corrected. “Some sort of plague struck the colony a few weeks back, and forced them to flee. They arrived in Lumenaria three days ago for medical treatment. And that is the extent of my knowledge. The Council has been extremely guarded with their information, and at the moment they’re allowing no visitors. But I do know that all of our best physicians are working to isolate the pathogen. I’m sure they’ll find the cure soon.”

Della looked less than satisfied with the answer.

Sophie wasn’t thrilled either. “Oralie told us before we left that she thought the ogres were stirring in the Neutral Territories. Does this have something to do with that?”

Mr. Forkle scratched his chin. “Interesting that a Councillor would agree with the theories.”

“What theories?” Sophie pressed.

“This is your last question,” he warned. “The Wildwood Colony has claimed ogre sabotage for centuries. But they’ve never been able to provide proof. I’ll have to rally my sources and see if Oralie has evidence for her suspicions. In the meantime, please put this out of your mind. You know better than most, Miss Foster, how truly powerful our medicine can be. I have no doubt the gnomes will recover soon. Shall we?”

He motioned for everyone to follow him toward one of the stair-wrapped trees, and they climbed to the bridge that connected the two houses.

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