Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(6)

“He believed in you,” Oralie said, tracing a soft finger down Sophie’s cheek. “He told me you were the spark of change our world needed. So keep his gift close, and if the Council catches you, use his cache to buy your freedom. Do not let them send you to Exillium. You must also take this.” She handed Sophie an Imparter, a small silver square that worked like a videophone. “It cannot be traced or tracked—and I’m the only one you’ll be able to contact with it. This way we have means to contact each other.”

“What if the Council discovers your involvement?” Alden asked. “They will surely see this as treason.”

“Sometimes rebellion is the only course of wisdom. As all of you well know.” Oralie turned back to Sophie, and her mouth curved with a word. But by the time it slipped from her lips, it had changed to, “I must go.”

She raised her pathfinder to the moonlight and glittered away before Sophie could blink.

“Now that’s what I call mysterious,” Keefe said. “Foster, you should be taking notes. And who else wants to play with this cache thingy and see what it does?”

“You will do nothing of the sort!” Alden told him. “And you must not let anyone know you have it—I wouldn’t even tell the Black Swan. Our world could crumble if that cache fell into the wrong hands.”

“Really?” Sophie asked. It looked like one of the cheap marbles she used to play with as a kid.

“The object itself is not the danger. It’s what the cache contains. What do you think the biggest threat to our world is?” Alden asked.

“The ogres?” Sophie guessed.

“Actually, it is knowledge,” Alden corrected. “Information holds unimaginable power, and some things are too dangerous to be known—even by the Councillors. So they lock the most disturbing secrets away before having them erased from their minds. They’re called the Forgotten Secrets, and they are stored in what you hold there. Each Councillor vows to guard their cache with their lives. Oralie has taken an enormous risk by giving this to you. She’s also given you our world’s most valuable bargaining chip.”

Sophie rolled the glinting marble around her shaking palm, tempted to give such a huge responsibility back. But she owed it to Kenric to protect his gift. Plus, Oralie’s vague warnings had made it sound like she was going to need it.

“Come on,” she told her friends, shoving the cache into her deepest pocket. “We should get to the Black Swan.”

She reached for Fitz’s hand, and Keefe took her other hand. Biana clung tightly to her brother, leaving Dex to choose between Keefe and Biana.

“I won’t bite,” Keefe told Dex. “Ow—but no need to get squeezy!”

None of them looked back as they sprinted into the trees. They wove around fallen branches and gnarled roots, making so many turns Sophie feared they were lost, until her ears picked up the telltale whoosh of waves. The forest parted a few steps farther, revealing a steep ocean bluff.

“I’m going to open my mind to yours so you can finally show me where we’re going,” she told Fitz.

“I don’t have anything to show you,” Fitz said. “I just know we’re supposed to start at the Path of the Privileged.”

Sophie dropped Fitz’s hand. “I have no idea what that is. And what do you mean by ‘start’?”

“That was the first instruction,” Fitz said.

“Instruction?” Sophie asked. “Or riddle?”

“I guess it could be a riddle,” Fitz mumbled. “But I didn’t think they’d do that this time.”

“Dude, have you met the Black Swan?” Keefe asked.

“I know,” Fitz said. “But I figured for something this important they’d be clear.”

Sophie backed away so she wouldn’t be tempted to shove Fitz off the cliff. “Okay”—deep breath—“what exactly did the riddle say?”

Fitz handed her a scrap of paper where he’d written the complete message.

Take the Path of the Privileged

Past eyes that watch eternal, and blood turned precious.

Seek the tower that would not yield for the next steps of your journey.

“Get anything from that, Foster?” Keefe asked, reading over her shoulder.

“Of course not,” Sophie grumbled. “Why didn’t you tell us about this earlier so we could’ve done some research?”

Fitz tore his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. I guess I messed up.”

“And you didn’t see anything else?” Keefe asked him. “You searched Foster’s mind for a while.”

“Only a few minutes,” Fitz argued.

Keefe grabbed Fitz’s wrist and pressed his fingers against the exposed skin. “Hate to break it to you, but I can tell you’re hiding something.”

“Empaths,” Fitz grumbled.

“Just keeping you honest. So spill. What did you see in the Mysterious Miss F.’s mind?”

Fitz turned to Sophie, and even in the dim light she could see the red flush in his cheeks. “I might have seen some other stuff—but it wasn’t really thoughts. It was more like . . . feelings.”

“Oh?” Keefe asked as Sophie’s stomach filled with bubbling lava. “Does that mean you—”