Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(65)

Councillor Clarette clicked again, making all the arthropleura drop to a ready-to-pounce position.

“Polyglots,” Mr. Forkle grumbled.

Sophie met his eyes.

No, you cannot control these creatures, he transmitted. Clarette is arguably the most powerful Polyglot our world has known—and has hundreds of years of practice.

“And this is merely one of our defenses,” Councillor Emery warned.

Sophie studied each of the Councillors, realizing how little she knew about many of them. She didn’t even know most of their names, much less their special abilities. But it seemed safe to assume they were all absurdly powerful.

It’s time for you to use your emergency pendant, Mr. Forkle told her.

I’m not going to abandon you—

Yes, you are! I have no intention of surrendering, but I can’t have you here for the fight. I’m ordering Dex and Fitz to do the same.

What about Keefe, Biana, and Della? she asked.

Almost on cue, Councillor Emery turned toward the doorway. “It looks like the rest of your group has arrived.”

The line of Councillors parted to allow Squall, Blur, Wraith, Della, Biana, and Keefe to march into the room, followed by a group of dwarves. Keefe’s eyes went right to Sophie, and she could see the panic he was trying to hide. Even more troubling was the state of his cloak. Huge chunks of fabric were missing, along with one of the sleeves. Sophie doubted there was enough left to protect him in a leap. Worse still: Della and Biana no longer had their escape pendants.

I’ll find a way to spare them, Mr. Forkle transmitted. You must leave—now!

I’m not leaving my friends!

Biana screamed as one of the arthropleura hissed at her.

Keefe pulled Biana behind him. “Yo guys, I hate to break it to you, but giant bugs are so last year. All the cool villains are threatening with ogres now.”

“We are not the villains,” Emery snapped.

“Are you sure?” Granite asked. “Threatening children seems rather villainous to me. As does leaving a damaged prisoner in a cell without so much as a bed.”

“Brave words coming from a talking rock,” Councillor Alina said. “Do you honestly expect us to take you seriously in those disguises?”

“We do indeed,” Squall said, tilting her frozen head.

All twelve Councillors’ circlets crusted with hoarfrost.

“We can do tricks too,” a female Councillor said, holding out her hands. Electricity sparked from the edges of her fingertips, tiny lightning bolts filling the air with static.

“You’re not honestly going to electrocute us, are you, Zarina?” Mr. Forkle asked.

“There are different levels of shock.” She made the air crackle until their hair stood on end.

LEAP AWAY NOW! Mr. Forkle screamed in Sophie’s mind.

But Sophie wasn’t going anywhere.

She let the fury in her heart swell and surge, filling her with a rush of churning energy. She didn’t care if Bronte would inflict on her, she could handle the pain. She could—

“RUN!” Dex shouted, flinging a copper cube into the line of Councillors.

The gadget exploded in a mist of green, putrid smoke that burned like rotten jalape?os. The Councillors hacked and wheezed, and the arthropleura scattered as Dex charged into the fray, hurling a second gadget that filled the room with loud squawking.

Dex yelled something to Sophie, but she couldn’t make out all the words as he placed a third cube in the center of the room and scrambled toward her. Blinking lights in the corners flashed like a countdown, but before it reached its end, Councillor Zarina zapped it with her lightning.

She probably meant to fry the circuits and shut the device down, but the gadget absorbed the power instead. The metal turned red-hot and the lights on the gadget started flashing and beeping a whole lot crazier as smoke curled out of the top.

“EVERYBODY GET DOWN!” Dex screamed.

The room was too loud to hear him—too many other things happening. The only person who noticed was Fitz.

He lunged for the cube, grabbing it with a yelp of pain as he raced for the door and flung it away. The gadget launched into the hall—but even with the distance, the explosion flung Fitz backward. He flew several feet before crashing down, right on the antenna of a charging arthropleura.

Sophie screamed as the barb pierced Fitz’s chest and snapped off clean. He crumpled to the floor in a convulsing heap.





THIRTY


STOP!” SOPHIE YELLED, Barely recognizing her voice.

The room fell silent—even Dex’s gadget stopped wailing—as those who hadn’t seen Fitz’s fall took in the carnage.

Sophie hurdled the wounded arthropleura and dropped to her knees at Fitz’s side. Dex had beaten her there, and his hands were pressed on Fitz’s chest trying to stop the bleeding.

“What happened?” Della asked, fighting her way to her son. Her skin turned ghostly pale when she saw how painfully still Fitz was.

“It was an accident,” Councillor Zarina said. “He—I—”

“It was my fault,” Dex mumbled.

Della removed her cloak and draped it around Fitz. “He needs a physician!”

“Exile has medical facilities,” Councillor Emery said, shouting orders at two dwarves.

“He needs elvin medicine, not dwarven,” Mr. Forkle insisted.