Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(59)

“I think we’re in California,” she said, “and one of these trees—maybe even this one—is the Methuselah. Humans think it’s the oldest living thing on the planet. But clearly they’ve never met Bronte.”

“Ha! Good one, Foster,” Keefe told her. “How old is the Miss-use-a-what-a tree?”

“Methuselah,” Sophie corrected. “And something like forty-seven hundred years.”

Fitz whistled. “That might be older than Bronte. But not older than Fallon Vacker, our great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. He’s one of the three founding members of the Council, and served for about a thousand years, before he fell in love with my great-great-great-great—”

“Yeah yeah, your really old grandma,” Dex interrupted. “We get it. You guys have lots of super-old, super-important relatives. Whoop-de-do.”

“Uh, the Vacker legacy is one of a kind,” Fitz snapped back.

“Why is that?” Sophie asked, making Dex grin. “I mean, I know the Vackers are legendary—but what I don’t get is . . . if all elves have an indefinite lifespan, doesn’t everyone have a bunch of super-old, super-important, pointy-eared relatives?”

“Ancient, yes,” Della agreed. “But as Fitz said, the original Council was only three members. And they added Emissaries much later. So for a long time only a handful of elves were classified as nobility. Hence the Vacker legacy. It can be quite intimidating, actually. That’s why I initially rejected your father’s advances. I wasn’t sure I wanted that kind of scrutiny.”

“Ugh, can we please not talk about you and dad and advances?” Fitz asked.

“Seriously,” Biana agreed.

“You mean you don’t want me to tell you about the first time your father kissed me?” Della teased, laughing as she pulled her children into a squirmy hug.

Keefe looked away.

“So,” Sophie said, changing the subject for him, “do you think the tree is supposed to do something? We’ve been standing here for a pretty long time and nothing’s happened.”

“That’s because you haven’t been paying attention,” Calla said, leaping from the top branches and landing gracefully on her toes.

“Looks like those old bones still have some spring in them,” another gnome said, emerging from among the tree’s roots. It took Sophie a second to recognize her as Amisi, the other gnome who lived at Alluveterre.

“Sorry we couldn’t bring you here ourselves,” Calla told them. “It took longer than expected to gather the others.”

“Others?” Sophie asked.

Four gnomes Sophie didn’t recognize appeared among the branches.

“What are we all doing here?” Della asked as the newest gnomes leaped to the ground.

“Waiting for us.”

They spun around to find Mr. Forkle and Squall marching up behind them. Wraith appeared soon after, followed by Blur.

Granite arrived a few moments after. “Sorry I’m late. King Enki was still perfecting the carvings.” He held up six sleek black pendants cut with jagged facets.

Magsidian.

Only dwarves could mine the rare mineral, and the dwarven guards in Exile could sense its presence—or lack thereof—and determine if someone had permission to be there. The stone also changed its power depending on how it had been cut. Sophie had seen it draw water from the air, affect the pull of a compass, and create special beams of light. But she’d never seen Magsidian cut so sharply.

Granite passed the pendants to Sophie, Fitz, Dex, Keefe, Biana, and Della.

“You guys don’t need them?” Sophie asked, noting that the Collective members also weren’t wearing heavy cloaks.

“We have other protections,” Mr. Forkle said. “Has everyone been introduced?”

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Calla said. “This is Brier, Kloris, Nesrin, and Vered.”

“I thought we needed nine,” Granite said.

Calla twiddled her thumbs. “This was the best I could gather. After what happened in the Strixian Plains—”

“What happened in the Strixian Plains?” Sophie interrupted.

“That’s another Neutral Territory, isn’t it?” Della added.

“Yes,” Mr. Forkle said, through a sigh that made his shoulders slump. “It’s where a family of gnomes recently contacted the plague.”

“We thought it would be best to inform you after today’s mission,” Granite said when they all shouted “WHAT?”

“We needed to make sure your minds were focused,” Wraith added.

“So you’ve been lying to us?” Dex asked.

“Not lying. Withholding,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “And you’re overestimating the gravity of this news. Only one more family of gnomes has been added to the quarantine in Lumenaria.”

“Yeah, but it means the plague is spreading,” Sophie argued. “That’s how it turns into a full-fledged outbreak.”

“That’s what many of the gnomes I spoke to today feared as well,” Calla whispered.

Mr. Forkle rubbed his temples. “I do not have to check your thoughts to know you’re angry with me, Miss Foster. And I understand everyone’s worries. But chasing clues about this plague is like chasing the wind. The only way to gain control is to get ahead of it—which is something we are working on. In the meantime, we can’t ignore other important matters, like what we’re here to achieve. We know Prentice is hiding something. Perhaps it relates to some of these problems. But even if it doesn’t, we are freeing him today. All our surveillance indicates that this is our best chance. A group of additional dwarven guards arrives tomorrow. So please set your emotions aside and prepare yourselves for the mission.” He turned to Calla. “The six of you can hold the tunnel?”