Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(44)

“Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t gotten up to spy on me, huh?” Sophie whispered.

“Actually, I was already awake.” Biana twisted her hair into a fancy knot to keep it from blowing in the damp wind. “It’s hard sleeping in a strange bed.”

An earth-shaking ROAR! drowned out Sophie’s reply.

“What was that?” Sophie glanced over her shoulder, sure she’d spot some sort of hungry beast come to devour them.

Biana pointed to a high branch, where a black parrot-size bird watched over them with glittering dark eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s just a boobrie.”

“That’s seriously its name?”

“Yup. You should hear the jokes Fitz and Keefe make.”

The bird’s head was crowned with a yellow feather Mohawk, but its most distinct feature was its long, curled eyelashes. It looked like it should be doing a mascara commercial as it batted its eyes and let out another ROAR!

That was when Sophie realized what was wrong with the forest.

It didn’t rustle.

Or crackle.

Or make any of the sounds trees normally made.

Other than the roaring boobrie, the whole place seemed to be holding its breath.

“Come on,” Sophie said, checking the sky to make sure they were heading in the right direction. “We shouldn’t spend too much time here.”

They doubled their pace, chasing the sun as it curved across the horizon. Sophie tried to make a mental note of each place they rerouted around rocks or streams or overgrown patches, but she wished she had something to mark their trail.

“How much farther do you think we should walk?” Biana whispered when they stopped to catch their breath.

“How about we count to one thousand, and if we still haven’t found anything, we double back on a different path?”

They counted every footfall, and at step seven hundred and ten, they curved around another rocky outcropping and froze.

“What is that?” Sophie breathed, pointing ahead to a small thicket, where one of the trees was shrouded under a dome of pure white light.

“It looks like some sort of force field,” Biana whispered.

Sophie grabbed a small stone and flung it at the tree. As soon as it touched the force field, white lightning flashed, and the stone ricocheted toward her head at ten times the speed. She barely managed to duck before it streaked past, embedding in a nearby trunk.

“I don’t get it,” Biana whispered, pulling Sophie behind the rocks to hide. “Why would anyone shield a tree?”

Sophie had a theory—and it wasn’t good news. “I need to get a closer look.”

Biana grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Do you think it’s safe?”

“If someone’s around, don’t you think they would’ve checked after all that lightning?”

“True.” Biana reluctantly followed Sophie to the tree, glancing over her shoulder the whole way. “I don’t like this,” she mumbled. “Something feels wrong.”

Indeed it did—but not for the reason Biana probably meant.

Sophie had expected the shielded tree to show some sign of the plague. But it looked perfectly healthy. In fact, its leaves were a brighter green than the other trees around it, and the bark almost had a sheen.

She squatted and grabbed a handful of fallen sticks, holding them up to see if the dried leaves matched.

“What are you doing?” Biana asked.

“Trying to see if any of these are from the same tree—though it might be better to dig up a root. That way we can bring a sample back to Alluveterre and test if this tree is infected.”

“But if the tree is infected, you’d be exposing Calla and Sior and Amisi to the plague.”

Sophie dropped the stick—but she’d already touched it.

Were her hands contaminated?

“Maybe I should leap away and you can tell Calla to send someone else to get me—someone with a lot of disinfectant.”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to split up,” Biana said.

“Isn’t that better than putting Calla at risk?”

“Of course,” Biana said—though she didn’t look happy about it. “But . . . we could still walk back at least part of the way together.”

“I shouldn’t go more than halfway, though, just to be safe.”

They’d only taken a few steps when a flash of light drew their attention. A black-cloaked figure appeared a few feet away, his sleeve bearing the unmistakable white eye symbol of the Neverseen.





NINETEEN


THE MEMBER OF the Neverseen seemed as surprised as they were, but Sophie recovered quicker. Her instincts took over, red fury rimming her vision as she pooled her anger, preparing to inflict.

“That’s enough of that,” the Neverseen member said, raising his hands and triggering a flash of blinding light.

Sophie charged forward, hoping to grab him before he could leap away, but Biana blocked her, shouting, “He’s a Psionipath!”

The warning rang in Sophie’s ears as the light solidified, encasing the cloaked figure under a glowing dome.

“He makes force fields?” Sophie asked.

“You sound impressed.” He smoothed the sleeves of his black cloak and gave a bow.