Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(22)

“I am far less valuable than you—as are we all.”

“He’s right,” Squall agreed. “And I’m sorry, but I must get back or someone will notice I’m missing.” She removed a frosted purple-black crystal from her crackly cloak and leaped away in a flurry of snow.

“Now, what was I saying?” Mr. Forkle asked, watching the snowflakes swirl.

“You were making excuses for why we can’t find the Neverseen,” Keefe told him. “Pretty lame ones, if you ask me.”

“So you feel it’s lame to keep Sophie safe?” Granite asked.

“No—but it’s lame to not use me,” Keefe argued. “We know some of the Neverseen are in Ravagog. Give me a green crystal and I’ll hunt them down.”

“That is the most supremely absurd idea I’ve ever heard,” Mr. Forkle told him.

Sophie had to agree. King Dimitar had taken out her humongous goblin bodyguard with a single punch from his apelike fist. And the ogre who’d grabbed her during the attack on Mount Everest had literally dragged her through ice and stone.

“If they catch you, they’ll kill you,” she whispered.

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing breaking into places is my specialty,” Keefe told her.

“This isn’t sneaking into the principal’s office,” Fitz said.

“I can handle it,” Keefe insisted. “And now is the time to make our move. The Neverseen are scrambling. We caught Gethen. Brant’s all charred and burned. And my mom”—he cringed at the word—“isn’t as tough as she’s pretending to be. She won’t last long with the ogres. She needs gourmet dinners and fancy clothes—and she’s horrible with bad smells.”

“That may be,” Mr. Forkle said, “but you’re forgetting that trespassing on ogre land violates our treaty. We cannot spark a war.”

“Haven’t they already voided the treaty by helping the Neverseen?” Fitz asked.

“King Dimitar is claiming that was done by a band of ogre rebels,” Blur explained. “If they’re acting without his permission, the Council can’t hold him responsible.”

“Does the Council honestly believe him?” Sophie asked.

“Besides, aren’t we rebels too?” Dex added. “If they caught Keefe, wouldn’t the Council be able to give the same excuse?”

“Why is everyone assuming I’m going to get caught?” Keefe asked. “You guys are clearly forgetting how awesome I am!”

“And yet you wore an ogre homing device for weeks with no inkling of its existence,” Mr. Forkle reminded him. “I’m not saying that to fault you. Simply to help you realize what we’re up against. The ogres have defenses far beyond our knowledge and experience. And as for your thoughts, Mr. Dizznee, you saw how King Dimitar reacted when Sophie attempted to read his mind. How do you think he’d react to someone invading his city?”

Sophie cringed at the reminder of how serious the consequences of that single act had been. She still hadn’t shaken her doubts that it was related to the Wildwood plague.

“We cannot be hasty with our efforts,” Granite told them. “We must be strategic.”

“That doesn’t mean we should waste time, either,” Keefe argued.

“Do not fool yourself into believing you are the only one feeling impatient,” Mr. Forkle warned him. “Tell me, do you know the names of the dwarves we lost on Mount Everest? They were Ermete, Irja, and Kun—and Yegor is still in critical condition. They were dear friends and we are anxious to avenge them. But that is not an excuse to take foolhardy actions.”

“I know you’ve all spent months solving clues on your own and disobeying adults,” Granite added. “But you must remember we were the ones guiding you through that.”

“We figured out a few things on our own,” Fitz argued.

“Indeed, you did,” Granite agreed. “Which is why we’re glad to work with you. But we must be a team.”

“That’d be easier to believe if you guys weren’t keeping so many secrets,” Sophie reminded them.

“The only secrets we keep are ours,” Mr. Forkle said.

“What about the memories you stole from my head?” Sophie had two blank spots in her mind. One from when she was nine and had an allergic reaction to limbium—an elvin substance Mr. Forkle must’ve given her for some reason. The other was from when she was five, and Mr. Forkle triggered her telepathy. She could vaguely recall seeing a boy in elvin clothes disappear—but she couldn’t remember who he was.

“Those memories were mine,” she said. “And you took them and expect me to pretend it’s not a big deal.”

Mr. Forkle let out another long sigh and turned to telepathically debate with the Collective. As the silence stretched on, Sophie braced for a long “You kids” lecture.

But when Mr. Forkle finally spoke, he said, “Very well. In the interest of earning your trust, would you like your memory back?”





TEN


SOPHIE HAD TO let the sentence slosh around in her mind before the words could soak in. Once they did, something still felt wrong.

“You mean memories, right?” she asked. “You stole two.”