THAT’S A LOT of information to get in five minutes,” Tam said, staring at the curved ceiling of the small den.
Their dwarven house looked like a clump of bubbles inside the earth, with tiny round rooms that somehow felt cozy, not claustrophobic. Maybe it was the subtle glow from the flecks of lumenite peppered through the walls. Or the way the stone furniture had been hand painted with intricate patterns of lines and dots. But even with Mr. Forkle filling a large portion of the space, Sophie didn’t want to leave.
Or maybe that was because she knew her friends were back in Alluveterre working with Calla to arrange the supplies they’d need. Once Tam and Linh were on board—if Tam and Linh were on board—they would be departing for Ravagog that evening.
Part of her wanted to lock everyone up to keep them safe. But then the gnomes would die—or end up King Dimitar’s slaves. And knowing Keefe, he’d find a way to sneak off on his own.
Teamwork was the best option—but she’d made Mr. Forkle promise he’d be upfront with Tam and Linh about all the risks.
“So . . . if I’m understanding this correctly,” Tam said, “you want us to take a secret tunnel into Ravagog to steal the cure from the King?”
“It might not be directly in King Dimitar’s possession,” Mr. Forkle said. “We’re actually not sure where he’s keeping it, or what kind of vessel it will be contained in.”
“Oh good,” Tam said. “And here I thought it was going to be impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible with the right team,” Mr. Forkle told him. “That’s why we need your help. Your shadows can keep everyone hidden.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Tam said. “I’ve never covered more than two people.”
“But I can add mist to thicken the shadows,” Linh reminded him. “It may not work under close scrutiny, but it will hide us from a distance.”
“There’s always going to be some danger,” Sophie added quietly. “But some risks have to be taken.”
Tam brushed his bangs out of his eyes and paced the ten steps the floor allowed. “Here’s what I don’t get. You said the gnomes can already tell the cure is working, right? So why did the ogres give a whole week for them to decide?”
“I’ve been pondering that question myself,” Mr. Forkle said. “And I suspect the deadline is strategic. It’s possible King Dimitar is hoping the Council will send in goblin forces, and he’ll finally have his war. More likely though, the Neverseen is hoping we’ll attempt something like this.”
“You think this is a trap?” Sophie asked, her voice too loud in the small space.
“Quite simply . . . yes,” Mr. Forkle said.
“Then, uh, why would you walk right into it?” Tam asked as Sophie’s mind exploded with new worries.
“We’re not,” Mr. Forkle said. “We’re taking advantage of their distraction. They’ll be so focused on what they assume we’re going to do that they won’t be prepared for us to go a different way. That’s why it’s so important that we have you and your sister on the team. Your unique, unexpected abilities will give our strategy the advantage we need.”
“Right, but—” Tam started to argue, but Linh stepped forward.
“I cannot speak for my brother,” she said, “but I will go. The gnomes at Wildwood took care of us for years. I’m honored to have a chance to help.”
“I guess that means I’m in too,” Tam said. His eyes latched onto Sophie as he added, “Don’t make me regret this.”
“Oh good, Bangs Boy decided to join us,” Keefe grumbled as Sophie and the others returned to the girls’ tree house.
Tam didn’t seem to notice the insult, too distracted by the leaves flying everywhere as Dex tested one of his Sucker Punches against the shrubbery chairs.
Sophie, meanwhile, was focused on a familiar face. “Alvar!” she said, rushing over to give him a hug. She realized halfway there that her friendship with the eldest Vacker sibling hadn’t really reached the hugging stage—but she was too committed to abort.
Fortunately, Alvar laughed and set down the scroll he’d been reading to hug her back.
“Always good to see the famous Sophie Foster!” he said.
Alvar had the Vacker accent and the Vacker insane good looks, though he was more meticulous about his appearance. His dark hair was perfectly gelled, and his clothes never had a speck of lint or a wrinkle. He also had his mom’s cobalt blue eyes instead of teal.
“Thanks for coming to help us,” Sophie told him.
“How could I not? Apparently I’m the only member of my family not helping the Black Swan.”
“Remember when you didn’t think the Black Swan existed?” Biana asked her brother. “You and Dad used to fight about it all the time.”