Neverseen (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #4)

Sophie clutched her chest to calm her startled heart. “It was for a good cause.”


She took one last look at sleeping Keefe before pulling her drapes closed. “How come you’re up so early?”

“I’m always awake at this hour. I take my ten minutes at midday, under the warmth of the high-noon sun.”

Sophie couldn’t imagine living on so little sleep, but she was more worried about the way Calla was nervously twiddling her green thumbs.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

Calla’s wide gray eyes met hers. “I . . . need help from the moonlark. There’s something I need you to check for me—a whisper in the forest I do not understand.”

The words felt colder than the floor as Sophie fumbled to change into pants and a tunic. She was still struggling into her boots as she followed Calla to the waterfall common room.

“We should leave a note for the others so they do not wonder where you are,” Calla whispered, plucking a dry leaf from the carpet and carving a message with her thumbnail.

“Wait—are we leaving Alluveterre?” Sophie had assumed the forest Calla meant was the trees right outside.

Calla handed her the message she’d cut out in frilly lettering:

With Calla in Brackendale. Be home soon.

~Sophie & Biana

“Biana?” Sophie asked.

Calla pointed to the corner. “I assume you’re planning to join us?”

“I am,” Biana agreed, appearing in the shadows. “But how did you know I was there?”

“Gnomish eyes are not fooled by tricks of light,” Calla told her.

“Seriously?” Biana asked. “How did I not know that?”

“It’s not something we think to mention,” Calla said. “Elves have no reason to hide from us. Are we ready? The journey ahead is long.”

“Just let me grab my shoes,” Biana said, and Sophie was relieved to see her return from her bedroom in a pair of sturdy walking boots.

Calla placed the leaf note on a table and led them down the winding stairs. Biana used the walk to play “how many invisible fingers am I holding up?” and Calla passed every test with flying colors.

“Wow, I can’t believe you can see me,” Biana said, blinking in and out of sight. “Can you teach me how you do it, so I can try to find a way around it?”

“I suppose we can give it a try.” They’d reached the ground by then, and Calla dropped to her knees, pressing her palms against an exposed tree root.

She closed her eyes, singing a deep, slow song. The language sounded earthier than gnomish, and Calla seemed to sink straight into the soil. The roots started twisting and twirling and sweeping aside the soil, creating a narrow tunnel that stretched underground.

Biana looked at Sophie, her eyes pleading you first as Calla motioned for them to follow her into the earth.

Sophie had to duck her head as she plodded into the dark tunnel, her eyes barely registering Calla’s silhouette up ahead. Biana stayed close, keeping one hand on Sophie’s shoulder. After several minutes of stumbling in the dark, Calla told them to hold still.

“You need to be secured,” Calla said, coiling roots around their feet and waists. “The trees will carry us to Brackendale. All you must do is trust—and try not to scream.”

The not screaming part definitely wasn’t reassuring. Neither was the way Calla hummed to make the roots squeeze even tighter.

Sweat trickled down Sophie’s spine and she reached for Biana’s hand, glad Biana’s palm felt as clammy as hers.

“Where is Brackendale?” Biana whispered.

“The one place I should not take you. But I must. It’s in the Neutral Territories.”


Sophie couldn’t decide which was scarier: knowing she was heading somewhere Councillor Oralie had specifically warned her to stay away from, or riding Nature’s Most Terrifying Tree Root Roller Coaster.

Calla sang as they traveled, and the lyrics seemed to spur the roots faster until they were tearing through the earth so fast Sophie could feel her cheeks ballooning out like a cartoon character. She did not want to know what things were getting stuck in her teeth. She also had no idea where they were going. The tunnel was pitch black, and every few minutes they would stop and Calla would tangle new roots around them to change direction.

“Can you travel anywhere like this?” Sophie asked.

“Within limits. Deeper parts of the earth can only be reached by ancient root systems. And the ogres uprooted all the pathways into Ravagog—unless you believe the legends.”

Sophie wanted to ask what legends Calla meant, but she could feel the roots pulling them toward the surface.

“What are we supposed to do when we get to Brackendale?” she asked.

“You will be serving as my eyes and ears. A friend of mine used to live here, but I received word that she had fled. She said the forest felt too anxious, and I need you to find out what that means.”

“How can a forest be anxious?” Sophie asked—but Biana had a much better question.

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