Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(54)

Sophie squinted at the image. “Is that a scroll?”

“A super old one. The database is filled with them. I’ve just started going through. I was looking for stuff about the Wildwood Colony, but this one caught my eye because of all the smudges.” He pointed to black smears covering whole paragraphs. “These runes have been blacked out, which means someone is trying to keep something secret. But they must’ve run low on ink because at the end it’s thin enough for a few words to peek through—and if I’m reading them right, it proves the ogres have something that gives them leverage with the Council.”

It took a moment for the gravity of the revelation to hit.

“So . . . you’re saying the ogres have a way to control the Councillors?” Sophie asked.

“It kinda makes sense,” Fitz said quietly. “Alvar’s always talking about the crazy restrictions the ogres put on him when he visits Ravagog, and how none of the other creatures would get away with them.”

“Right,” Dex agreed. “And the really weird part is, you can see it right in the treaty—I checked. The treaties for the other species basically say, ‘We will allow you to remain free because you will do whatever we tell you.’ But the ogre treaty is like, ‘We promise we won’t use our abilities on you, or visit your cities, or ask too many questions about anything you’re doing, and you’re allowed to continue building weapons as long as you promise not to use them, and you can do all kinds of other dangerous things too and we won’t stop you, and if we do, you have the right to declare war.’ Why would the Council agree to any of that? It doesn’t make sense. Until you look at this.”

He twisted the gadget again, and the hologram zoomed in to part of the scroll where the ink had run thin.

Sophie squinted at the runes peeking through the faded ink. “What does it say?”

“You can’t read it?” Biana asked her.

“Only if it’s written in the Black Swan’s code.”

Mr. Forkle had taught her mind to translate their special cipher runes, which came in handy—until she needed to read anything in normal runes. Great plan, guys!

“It’s hard to tell without most of the context,” Dex said, “but this sentence is talking about how the ogres will retain possession of something that’s clearly super important, and the word they tried to black out is ‘drakostomes.’?”

Sophie frowned. “That sounds like some sort of fungus.”

“So it doesn’t trigger any memories?” Dex asked.

His shoulders slumped when she shook her head. “I was hoping I’d say the word and the memory would click and you’d have all the answers.”

Sophie sighed. “Welcome to working with the Black Swan. It’s full of disappointments!”

“Or maybe the Black Swan doesn’t know either,” Fitz reminded them.

“Well, whatever they are, they seem to be something the Council really wants,” Dex said. “And I’m guessing the Neverseen allied with the ogres because of them, probably after they realized they’d never get their hands on Silveny and Greyfell. Wouldn’t that explain why the Council’s gotten so weird lately? Haven’t their craziest decisions happened since the ogres got involved? Then suddenly Sophie was the number one enemy and they were vowing to hunt down the Black Swan instead of the Neverseen?”

“It does explain a lot,” Della agreed. “Alden and I have had many conversations about how the ogres have slaughtered hundreds of goblins without punishment. They also stole the gnomes’ homeland—dammed up the river and starved the gnomes out. And even after the gnomes came to us for aid, the ancient Council let the ogres keep Serenvale as part of the treaty.”

“I thought that was because the ogres refused to leave,” Fitz said. “So the only way to force them out would’ve been war.”

“That’s true,” Della agreed. “And they offered the gnomes protection in the Lost Cities—and and not because they suspected how useful the gnomes would become. I’ve heard stories from the ancient Vackers about how stunned they were the first time the gnomes shared their harvest, and it was the gnomes who volunteered to help with other tasks. Still, the Council made the trolls return the dwarven mines they’d stolen—but in that case, the trolls needed our medicine.”

“Exactly,” Dex said. “And these drakostomes seem to work the opposite way. Something the Council wants—or maybe something they’re afraid of—that gives the ogres the upper hand.”

“But what are they?” Biana asked. “What would make the Council grant the ogres’ demands?”

A question formed in Sophie’s mind—one she didn’t want to ask, even after all the times the Council had sided against her.

“Do you think they have something to do with the plague?” she whispered.

“I thought of that,” Dex said, “but . . . this scroll is ollllllllllld. So if the ogres have had the drakostomes all this time, why would they suddenly be like, ‘Let’s use it on Wildwood!’?”

Sophie didn’t have an answer.

Could trying to read King Dimitar’s mind have been that big of a deal?

“And that’s all you’ve found about the drakostomes?” she asked.