Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(80)

“I won’t if you won’t,” Sophie whispered.

“Never,” Edaline promised.

“And tell Grady I love him.”

“I will,” Edaline said, kissing both of her cheeks.

She swiped a strand of hair off Sophie’s forehead. Then she took Mr. Forkle’s hand and the two adults leaped away, leaving Sophie alone.





THIRTY-SEVEN


FITZ’S RECOVERY MOVED slowly, just like Physic had warned—and yet Sophie kept worrying it was too slow. He got dizzy every time he stood, and felt a stabbing pain in his chest if he took a deep breath. And the elixirs Physic gave him during her check-ins seemed to be making him worse.

Sophie was starting to put serious thought into Keefe’s “kidnap Elwin” plan. But she knew she should at least wait until Fitz was done with the vile tea. If he wasn’t better after the last sip, she was running a heist in the Lost Cities.

It didn’t help her mood that Calla still wasn’t back. The Collective also wouldn’t bring her to see Prentice. She’d offered many times, and they told her she needed to save her mental energy. But when Della asked to go, they agreed—which Sophie tried not to find insulting.

Meanwhile Dex spent all his time wrestling with the Twiggler, and Biana was obsessed with Iggy. Dex had given the tiny imp a coat of silky blue fur, and Biana spent every free second trying to train Iggy to eat vegetarian.

Which left Sophie on her own, with a notebook full of Cognate exercises and a bedridden telepathy partner. The only useful thing she could do was help Keefe search his memories. Part of her was desperate for them to find a clue about the Neverseen’s plan. The other part of her was terrified of how Keefe would handle that.

“You never told me about the memory you thought was going to be useful,” she said as she paced around his room, noticing he’d added new notes to the walls.

“That’s because it was stupid.” He grabbed a crumpled piece of paper off the floor. “I was trying to figure out how she stayed in touch with the Neverseen, and I remembered she had this bracelet my dad hated, so I knew he didn’t give it to her. I thought maybe it was a communicator, but I don’t see how.”

He uncrinkled the paper and showed Sophie a sketch he’d done of a bracelet made of round sparkly beads.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you could draw.”

“It’s no good.” Keefe snatched it away and crumpled it again.

He was wrong—his drawing looked like a photograph. But he was also right—Sophie didn’t see how the bracelet could be a clue.

“Well,” she said, “that’s why I’m here. It’s easier to see what’s important when you can look at the memory on paper.”

She held up her memory log and flipped to a blank page.

“We’ll start with something easy,” she promised when Keefe turned almost as green as Fitz had during the Great Vacker Hurlfest. “I was thinking it’d be smart to record your memories of the Neverseen’s attacks. You might spot something you didn’t notice before, and you’ll get a feel for how this is going to work. And it shouldn’t be too weird for you, since I was there.”

Keefe’s shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, I guess that could work. So how do we do this?”

“Well, first you need to think about those memories so they’re in the front of your mind. And then you need to give me permission to enter your consciousness—and yes, I know, you think that sounds creepy.”

Keefe smiled half a smile. “It sounds less creepy from you.”

She reached for his temples.

He flinched. “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting that. You don’t do that with Fitz.”

“I’m so used to his mind I don’t need to make contact anymore. Just relax—this isn’t going to be a big deal.”

Keefe nodded and held still, sucking in a slight breath as her fingers settled against his skin. That was when she realized how close they were standing.

“You okay there, Foster?” he asked, the other half of his smile curling his lips. “Seems like your mood just shifted.”

“Just bracing to relive those attacks. You ready?”

He swallowed hard before he nodded.

Sophie did the same, adding a couple of deep breaths before opening her mind to his.

She still wasn’t prepared for how vividly Keefe remembered everything. Fitz didn’t have a photographic memory, so his memories were always slightly faded. But Keefe’s mind was in high definition—and the soundtrack could’ve been THX certified.

Her hands trembled as she watched herself leave the Black Swan’s ocean cave with Keefe. Silveny had barely lifted off the ground when five black-cloaked figures knocked them out of the sky. For Sophie, the fight had happened through a haze of pain and exhaustion after nearly dying. But Keefe had lived the full-color reality. His rage made her stomach heave—especially when one of the cloaked figures flung a rock at his head. They knew now that the figure was his mom, but as the fight replayed, Sophie saw nothing to clue them in. Lady Gisela never used her real voice—even when Keefe sliced her arm with a goblin throwing star. And she fought without remorse, even when challenging her son.

Good old Mom, Keefe thought. Doesn’t it give you warm, fuzzy feels?

His memories shifted, bringing them to Mount Everest, during the part of the battle Sophie had missed. An ogre had dragged her through the cave’s ceiling, and she’d never realized how hard her friends fought to get to her. No one fought harder than Keefe. His aim with the throwing stars was flawless, nailing one dwarf in the hand right before it threw a rock at Fitz, clipping another dwarf in the leg so it couldn’t chase them. He waded through snowdrifts, trudged through the freezing winds, refusing to stop until he caught up with the Neverseen. And then . . . panic slowed his hand when he pointed his weapon at the figure he thought was his father.