She could see how painful the thought was for him. He’d dreamed of being an elite level prodigy all his life, and now he might not even finish Level Five.
Don’t say you’re sorry, he told her. This was my choice—and it was the right one. It’s just hard not to want it all sometimes, you know?
She did.
She checked her list again. What are you most proud of?
Her face popped into his mind again—but this time it was her terrifyingly transparent face from the day he’d rescued her.
Where were we when you found us? she asked, focusing on the strange tree in the background. She vaguely remembered describing it to Fitz in her desperate transmissions. It looked like four trees in one, each quarter representing a different season.
That’s the Four Seasons Tree, a gift the gnomes planted for us in Lumenaria.
As soon as he said the words, the worries she’d been trying to set aside flooded back.
Wow, I didn’t realize you were blaming yourself for what’s happening with the plague, Fitz thought. Why didn’t you tell me?
Because I’m trying to believe that the physicians will have a cure soon.
I’m sure they will.
She could see the doubts in his mind.
I wonder why we ended up in there, Sophie thought, trying to focus on less troubling things. Do you think the tree is connected to the Neverseen, somehow?
My dad wondered the same thing, and he went back to investigate. But he didn’t find anything important. And the pathfinder you took from the Neverseen was totally standard. So he’s guessing it was just random.
Maybe . . .
But the tree was so unique, it seemed to beg for attention. If she was ever allowed back in the Lost Cities she wanted to see it again.
I’m forgetting whose turn it is, Fitz said, reminding her that they should be training.
Me too. So I’ll go. If you could visit anywhere in the world, where would it be?
A dark city flashed through Fitz’s mind as he thought the word Ravagog.
Half of the city was above ground, carved into the side of a stark mountain. The other half was underground, in an enormous swampy cavern. A glowing green river separated the two halves, carving a deep canyon between them. A single bridge at the top provided the only connection. The dark metal structure was lined with arched towers glowing with green flames that blazed in hovering fireballs.
It’s like the ultimate Forbidden City, Fitz said. That doesn’t make you curious?
No, I hope I never have to go there.
But she had a horrible feeling that someday they would.
Two questions left, Fitz said. Least favorite school subject?
Her mind was a three-way-tie between her horrible alchemy sessions, her torturous inflicting sessions with Bronte, and her stressful linguistics sessions with Lady Cadence.
Wow, I will never complain about my boring elvin history sessions again, Fitz thought.
Yeah, you haven’t known fun until you’ve spent some time with Councillor Bronte, learning to inflict pain.
And Bronte was one of her only supporters on the Council. No wonder she’d had to go into hiding.
Person you look up to? she asked him.
Alvar’s face popped up in his mind.
Huh, you’d think it’d be my dad, Fitz thought.
Well, Alvar’s your big brother.
Yeah, but we’ve never been that close. He moved into the elite towers when I was still a kid, and never moved back after that. Plus, he’s spent huge chunks of time with the ogres. I’m lucky if I see him more than twice a year. But maybe—
Fitz’s thought was cut short by Calla bursting into the room.
“Sorry for the interruption,” she said, stooping to catch her breath. “I could not reach the Collective, and this cannot wait. Two of our guards just arrived with an emergency report.”
“What guards?” Sophie asked.
“The gnomes that keep watch over one of the Neutral Territories. They saw members of the Neverseen.”
SIXTEEN
TWO GNOMES STOOD waiting by the river, watching the colorful reeds sway in the rushing water. It should’ve been a peaceful moment, but their stance was too rigid. Their gray eyes were clouded with trouble when they turned to watch Sophie and Calla barrel down the winding stairs, with Fitz, Keefe, Dex, Della, and Biana behind them.
“This is Lur,” Calla said, struggling to catch her breath as she pointed to a gnome in pants and a vest woven from leaves. “And his wife, Mitya.”
“We asked for the Collective,” Lur said in gnomish.
Calla used the same swishy language, sounding like rustling leaves. “The Collective is in the Lost Cities, so I brought the Moonlark and her friends to help.”
Lur and Mitya straightened at that, and their eyes stayed fixed on Sophie as Calla introduced the rest of the group.
“She looks younger than I imagined,” Mitya whispered in gnomish. “Too young to bear this burden.”
“She has borne far worse,” Calla reminded them.
Sophie couldn’t tell if Calla knew she could understand them, but she decided to clue them in. “Whatever it is, I can handle it,” she said with a perfect accent.