Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)(84)

The word struck a blow, and Sophie was glad Biana could take Calla’s hand—especially since she had an even more upsetting message to deliver.

“They say there are two hundred and thirty-seven gnomes in quarantine.”

The number was too big to fit in such a small room.

Two hundred and thirty-seven gnomes, all sick and slowly dying.

We’re going to find the cure, Sophie transmitted. We’ll do whatever it takes.

Calla was crying by then, and Sophie nudged through the crowd, hugging her tight and repeating the promises she’d given Lur, Mitya, and Sior.

Calla swallowed hard and reached for the chain of Sophie’s allergy remedy, which still held the moonlark pin.

“If anyone can do it, it’s you,” Calla whispered, then pulled away. “I need some air.”

She disappeared upstairs, and others started to follow.

“Can I . . . talk to you for a second?” Wylie mumbled as Sophie passed him.

“Uh, sure,” Sophie said, even though her stomach felt like a nest of fire ants had taken over. She wasn’t sure she could handle another fight.

“Let’s give them some space,” Tiergan said, herding Dex, Keefe, and Biana away.

Once they were alone, Sophie studied the patchwork quilt and the crystal lamp—anything to spare her from having to look at Wylie.

He cleared his throat. “You know I blame you for what happened to my dad—and I can’t promise I’m ever going to stop. But . . . I think I finally get why he sacrificed himself for you. What you just did there—sending that message around the world. And the way everyone was looking to you . . . they all believe in you.”

“Thank you?” Sophie said, not sure if it was the right reaction.

He nodded, and she thought maybe the awkwardness was over. But he stepped closer, his voice deep and intense.

“Just make it worth it, okay? Everything he did. Make. It. Worth. It.”

Sophie wanted to tell him she would. But she didn’t want to lie. “I promise I’ll try as hard as I can.”

Wylie nodded.

He turned to leave, but before he disappeared up the stairs she told him, “Don’t give up on your dad yet, Wylie.”

He reached up, wiping tears from his cheeks. “I won’t if you won’t.”

She held his gaze. “I won’t.”





THIRTY-NINE


THE NEXT MORNING Fitz drank the last cup of vile tea and was instantly back to normal, just as Physic had promised.

He spent the day working through Cognate exercises with Sophie, but their progress didn’t feel like enough. Neither did Dex’s attempts to improve the Twiggler. And Biana and Keefe found nothing new in the Exillium records Dex had stolen.

“We need a plan,” Sophie said, pacing around the girls’ common room. Della was visiting Prentice again, so they had time to scheme. “Exillium is our chance to finally get some answers. We need to find out who the Psionipath is and figure out how to find him, and what he was doing with that tree. We’ll also be in the Neutral Territories, so we need to learn anything we can about the plague. We need proof that the ogres are behind this—if they’re behind it—and we need to figure out if the drakostomes are involved.”

“That is quite a large to-do list,” Mr. Forkle said.

He stood in the doorway, holding a large gray trunk. Granite lurked behind him, carrying the same.

“Lur and Mitya saved my life,” Dex said as the two members of the Collective shuffled into the room and set their trunks in the center of the floor. “Now they need our help.”

“I understand the stakes,” Mr. Forkle told him. “But that doesn’t mean you can put aside caution. One of the hardest parts of our role is not letting things become personal.”

“But it is personal,” Keefe argued.

“It is and it isn’t,” Mr. Forkle said. “The problems our world is facing go beyond protecting the people we know and care about. Believe me—I understand the struggle. Do you think we were never tempted to break Prentice out of Exile before now? We knew where he was. We knew the nightmare he was trapped in. But we couldn’t risk that kind of exposure until Sophie was ready. And now”—his voice cracked—“it’s possible we were too late. But that doesn’t mean we were wrong to focus on Sophie’s safety.”

“We’re not saying you can’t investigate,” Granite added quickly. “We’re saying to manage your risks wisely. Enduring Exillium will be your greatest challenge yet, in many ways. Do not let your goals distract you from surviving.”

“Surviving?” Sophie repeated. “Enduring” didn’t sound very awesome either.

“Exillium is not so much a school as it is an institution,” Mr. Forkle warned. “It exists for the Unworthy—the hopeless cases that must be kept in line. Expect rules—lots of rules—which absolutely must be followed, regardless of how unfair or bizarre they may seem. Names are forbidden. Friendship is forbidden. Talking or interaction of any kind is forbidden. Refusing an order or an assignment is—”

“Let me guess,” Keefe jumped in. “Forbidden?”

“Yes, Mr. Sencen,” Mr. Forkle said. “And as our resident rule breaker I cannot emphasize enough how important it will be for you to submit to authority this time. Exillium is beyond the protection of the Lost Cities, which means there are no restrictions for how the Coaches punish disobedience. Also, the less you draw attention to yourselves, the safer you’ll be. You need to blend in at Exillium. Embrace your anonymity.”