Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(26)

But . . . Prentice had been trapped in his madness for thirteen years, and his whole life had fallen apart during that time. His wife had died—faded away during some sort of light-leaping accident. His orphaned son, Wylie, had been adopted. And even though Sir Tiergan—Sophie’s telepathy Mentor—had surely been a good father, Wylie was now all grown up, a Prodigy in Foxfire’s elite levels, having spent most of his life never knowing his dad.

That was a lot of heartbreak for someone to wake up to. What if Prentice shattered all over again once he faced those cold realities?

“Whatever concerns are causing that crease between your brows,” Mr. Forkle told her, “we do share them. But we cannot stall Prentice’s rescue any longer. He is too important.”

“And we’re not saying that because we miss our friend,” Granite added, clearing his throat several times. “We’ve also long suspected that Prentice’s mind is hiding something crucial. It would explain why he called ‘swan song’ before he was captured.”

“Swan song” was a code the Black Swan used if they feared their life was in danger.

“Prentice used the code the day before his capture,” Mr. Forkle said. “I’ve always wondered how he knew they were coming for him.”

“As have I,” Granite agreed. “I’d been monitoring Alden’s investigations most carefully, and he’d had no suspicion toward Prentice whatsoever. Then Prentice called swan song and suddenly he was arrested.”

Della looked away, twisting and retwisting her graceful fingers.

Granite turned to Sophie, his stony eyes almost pleading. “No one is more aware of the risks that come with healing Prentice than we are. But don’t you think it’s worth it, to find out what happened, and give him a chance at happiness?”

Sophie pictured Prentice the way she’d last seen him, locked in a lonely cell, rocking back and forth, muttering to himself, drooling. . . .

“Okay,” she whispered, not sure if her heart wanted to race or explode. “But isn’t he still in Exile?”

“We’re working on a plan,” Granite said. “And it’s going to take everyone’s help. Biana—you’ll need to be able to hold your vanish far longer than you currently can. Dex—we managed to get our hands on one of the bolts used on the cells. We’ll need you to master opening it quickly and silently. Sophie and Fitz—we’ll need your minds at their absolute strongest. So we’ve prepared notebooks with exercises to further your Cognate training. And Keefe—we have several Empathy books we need you to familiarize yourself with.”

“Books?” Keefe asked. “You’re giving me books?”

“Never underestimate the power of the page,” Mr. Forkle told him. “Miss Foster would not exist without the decades I spent researching genetics—and you have just as much to learn about your ability.”

“It will take us a few days to make the arrangements for this mission,” Granite added. “But when we’re ready, we’ll need to move quickly. So tonight, prepare your minds to swear fealty to our organization. And tomorrow, get ready to work.”


“Well that was interesting,” Dex said as they climbed the stairs to their tree houses.

Sophie had thought she was too nervous to eat, but when they reached the gazebo in the center of the bridge, their dinner smelled amazing. She couldn’t tell what was in Calla’s famous starkflower stew, but Mr. Forkle was right. It truly was life changing. Every bite felt like home, warming her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head and making her feel safe, happy, and loved.

“Was anyone expecting the Black Swan to be like that?” Fitz asked as he mopped up the last of his gravy with a piece of crusty bread.

“You mean secretive and stubbornly unhelpful?” Sophie mumbled. “I guess I should have. But I’d hoped it’d be easier.”

She’d agreed to their plan to help Prentice, and she didn’t regret it—but she also didn’t believe that should be their only focus. She wasn’t ready to drop the idea of trying to find the Boy Who Disappeared through Exillium’s records. And she wanted to find out more about the ogres and the Wildwood Colony. But she wasn’t sure if it was safe to discuss any plans with her friends. They were in the Black Swan’s territory now, so they were probably being watched.

“I do think they might be onto something with the code names,” Keefe said as she searched all the shadows. “In fact, after I swear fealty I should have you all call me Emo. Fitz can be Brainwave. Biana and Della can be Blink and Wink. Dex, you’re Gears. And Foster? Hmm. That’s tricky. . . . Maybe Enigma? Unless you want to be Cognate—or is Fitz the only one allowed to call you that?”

Sophie sighed.

“You do realize you basically agreed to merge your brain with his, right?” he pressed. “You’ll be Fitzphie! Or Sophitz! Personally I’d go with Sophitz. Better make it clear you’re the boss.”

“You’re just jealous,” Fitz said with his best attempt at a smirk.

Keefe shrugged. “Team Foster-Keefe will always be cooler.”

“Yeah, but Sophitz will be unstoppable,” Fitz said, pushing back his chair. “I can’t wait to start training tomorrow.”

Sophie tried to feel the same way, reminding herself of all the important reasons she’d agreed to the Cognate thing. But her brain kept circling back to Biana asking, Don’t Cognates have to share all their secrets with each other?