Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)

He didn’t look at her as he turned away, and her heart crashed like stone. But he turned back a second later, holding his blanket and a pillow. No smile, but it was still an invitation.

Sophie raced to grab hers, and they both set up for another window slumber party, each leaning against the glass.

The distance between them had never felt so enormous.

But Sophie was willing to settle for “close enough.”





FIFTY-EIGHT


KEEFE WAS SILENT at breakfast, and the meal became awkward with a side of miserable. Dex and Biana were smart enough not to ask what was going on.

Keefe disappeared into his room the second he was done eating. The rest of them moved to the boys’ common room to work. Dex was hammering tiny stone wheels—apparently he and Blur had decided that was the best way to add them to the Twiggler. Biana and Calla worked by the windows, testing to see how long Biana could fool Calla’s eyes. And Fitz and Sophie plopped into the boulder beanbag chairs for another Cognate exercise.

The next assignment was called Trigger Cues, a trick to make them more efficient at probing memories. Apparently each elvin mind was filled with tiny threadlike trails, and Telepaths could learn to follow them to something called a “cue.”

The more uncomfortable the trail felt to navigate, the more the person had tried to hide the truth at the end. Their assignment was to follow a difficult path and say the cue out loud. The shock of hearing it was supposed to trigger some sort of mental reaction that would uncover the secret to the other person.

Fitz let Sophie go first, and she chose a trail that felt like crawling through an itchy wool sweater. Waiting at the end were two words: Barcelona, Spain. When she spoke them, Fitz’s mind filled with a boy’s startled face—obviously a human boy, based on his clothes. He shouted, “?Imposible!” and chased Fitz through the busy streets.

That happened back when I was trying to find you, Fitz transmitted. I’d already ruled out the girl I’d gone to see, and I was getting ready to leave when I saw a group of kids kicking pigeons. One bird had a damaged wing and I was worried they were going to kill it, so I used telekinesis to lift it to safety. I didn’t know anyone was near me. But that kid saw, and when I ran, he chased me, and he kept shouting things in a language I couldn’t understand.

Wow, I can’t believe how much you went through when you were trying to find me.

It was worth it.

Her cheeks flamed, which was of course when Keefe came out of his room. He didn’t acknowledge anyone as he plopped into one of the beanbag chairs near Sophie, but she could’ve sworn he muttered something about Sophitz.

“My turn?” Fitz asked.

Sophie nodded, imagining that all her most embarrassing secrets had trails lined with the safe, pretty things they were supposed to be avoiding. The trick might’ve worked, because the cue Fitz learned wasn’t embarrassing—though it was the kind of secret she should’ve been guarding much harder.

“221B Baker Street,” he said.

Her mind showed him a glass marble floating in a black void.

“Oh, is that how you retrieve the cache?” Fitz asked, then covered his mouth. “Sorry, didn’t mean to say that out loud. And I didn’t wreck anything by saying the words, right?”

“Nope, it only works with my voice.”

Dex ended their conversation by jumping to his feet, screaming, “I DID IT!”

“You got the Twiggler to work?” Sophie asked, rushing to his side. “Does that mean you can use keywords now?”

“And all kinds of other things,” Dex said. “Like, if I do this”—he spun the wheels he’d attached like knobs—“it pulls up all the files that have text blacked out. And right here”—he spun to the middle of the scroll—“it tells us what the drakostomes are. They’re nematodes!”

“Are those some sort of frog?” Biana asked.

“They’re parasites,” Calla corrected. “Microscopic parasitic roundworms. I’ve cured many kinds from many forests.”

The five friends looked at each other, knowing what that meant.

“What am I looking at?” Calla asked, leaning closer to the hologram. “This looks like an ancient scroll.”

Dex nodded slowly, realizing their mistake the same moment as Sophie.

“Maybe we should—” she started.

But she was too late.

“Is this a transcript of the ogre treaty negotiations?” Calla asked. “Why is it talking about nematodes? I don’t . . .”

Calla sank to her knees as the understanding washed over her.

“They knew?” she whispered. Her eyes locked with Sophie’s. “You knew?”

“Not for sure,” Sophie promised. “Not until right now.”

Calla stumbled back, rushing for the stairs.

“Wait,” Sophie called, chasing after her. “I know this is huge, but we need to think this through before we tell anyone. Once the news breaks, there’s going to be chaos.”

Calla’s voice was as hollow as her eyes as she whispered, “The Council has wasted far too much time already. Now we’re too late.”


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