“I won’t,” Sophie told him, hoping she could keep her promise. She pulled slowly away from him, asking Lur and Mitya in gnomish, “Is that all you saw?”
“Yes,” Lur said. “But we will continue investigating. We stopped only because we felt the Collective should know that the hierarchy of the Neverseen has shifted. Lady Gisela holds no authority. She is either a prisoner or a casualty.”
“Can you understand what they’re saying, Mom?” Biana asked.
“I’m only catching bits and pieces.” But the hitch in Della’s voice made it clear she’d understood enough.
“Please, Foster,” Keefe begged. “I’ve heard them say my mom’s name. I’m going crazy here.”
“I need to verify first,” she told him. “There could be a misunderstanding.” It was a frayed strand of hope, but she was going to cling to it with everything she had.
“Can I have permission to search your memories?” she asked Mitya. “I need to see exactly what you saw.”
“Reading our minds is not like reading that of your own kind,” Mitya said. “It will be exhausting, and you already look weary.”
“I can handle it,” Sophie said, reaching for Mitya’s temples.
She rallied her full mental strength, slipped into Mitya’s mind and . . .
. . . tangled in a web of memories.
No—not a web.
These were branches.
A mental forest, wild and unruly.
Each memory coiled like vines, wrapping so tightly there was no way to shove through. Even a brain push—a specialized telepathy trick—couldn’t break past the gnarled chaos. And the trees seemed to grow and stretch until Sophie couldn’t see how to escape the endless woods.
“You need help,” Fitz said, sounding very far away. “I’m coming in.”
Sophie was too lost to warn him.
Wow, this is insane, Fitz transmitted as his consciousness tangled near hers.
We can’t stay here, Sophie said. It’s pulling us farther and farther away. But I’m not strong enough to break out.
Okay, so what if we pool our energy? Fitz asked.
Worth a try.
She imagined her consciousness slithering across the vines like a snake. Fitz did the same, and when they finally reached each other . . .
Whoa, is this what it’s like to be Cognates? she asked as a surge of warm energy worked like the sun, drawing the trees toward their light and leaving spaces for Sophie and Fitz to move.
No idea, Fitz admitted. But it’s awesome.
It definitely was. The memory forest had divided into dozens of paths, and Sophie chose the darkest. Nightmares clawed with thorny stems, but with Fitz’s help they pushed to the path’s end. There they found a cold, stark tree, empty and quiet. But Sophie could see the truth hidden in the branches at the top.
Fitz’s consciousness gave Sophie a boost and they climbed together, watching in wary silence as the memory unfolded. Two black-cloaked figures dragged a decloaked Lady Gisela past a red lake with dead carcasses scattered along the shore. Sophie could tell Keefe’s mom had been wounded, but she couldn’t see how bad the injuries were until Mitya snuck ahead of them and slipped into the bushes. The Neverseen passed by, mere feet from where Mitya hid, and Sophie felt her stomach heave when she saw the deep, curved puncture wounds on Lady Gisela’s face. She had dozens of them, carved into her cheeks, her chin, her neck.
“Please,” Lady Gisela begged as the figures dragged her toward the mountains.
Her captors ignored her cries, kicking her when she stumbled.
Her pleas grew more urgent as they headed for a rift, but the Neverseen did not slow. Mitya tried to follow, but by the time she found a way into the cave, the Neverseen had vanished, leaving nothing but red.
As she turned to head back, Mitya heard Lady Gisela scream, “Don’t do this!” Then everything fell silent, and a raspy voice said, “It’s done.”
A million icicles stabbed Sophie’s heart as she recognized the voice.
Brant.
Clearly he’d recovered from his wounds.
The memory shifted forward, to when Mitya rejoined Lur by the poisonous lake. He was studying the trail of red, which was darker than the deadly water. They both turned as the scent of smoke laced through the air. A single black plume rose into the sky, before the mountain winds whisked it away.
“That is all we know,” Mitya said as Sophie removed her shaking hands from Mitya’s temples.
“You’ll share this with the Collective?” Lur asked.
“We will,” Fitz answered when Sophie couldn’t.
Mitya stepped closer, wiping the tears off Sophie’s face. “I am sorry to burden you with this responsibility, Miss Foster. No one should face such horrors. Especially you.”
“I’m not worried about me,” Sophie told her, not feeling brave enough to look at Keefe.
“We must leave you now,” Mitya said, dipping a slow bow. “But we promise to report anything new we discover.”
“Be careful, my friends,” Calla said, hugging them both. “Things are not as they seem.”
“Indeed they are not,” Lur told her, kissing Calla’s cheeks.