“If someone’s around, don’t you think they would’ve checked after all that lightning?”
“True.” Biana reluctantly followed Sophie to the tree, glancing over her shoulder the whole way. “I don’t like this,” she mumbled. “Something feels wrong.”
Indeed it did—but not for the reason Biana probably meant.
Sophie had expected the shielded tree to show some sign of the plague. But it looked perfectly healthy. In fact, its leaves were a brighter green than the other trees around it, and the bark almost had a sheen.
She squatted and grabbed a handful of fallen sticks, holding them up to see if the dried leaves matched.
“What are you doing?” Biana asked.
“Trying to see if any of these are from the same tree—though it might be better to dig up a root. That way we can bring a sample back to Alluveterre and test if this tree is infected.”
“But if the tree is infected, you’d be exposing Calla and Sior and Amisi to the plague.”
Sophie dropped the stick—but she’d already touched it.
Were her hands contaminated?
“Maybe I should leap away and you can tell Calla to send someone else to get me—someone with a lot of disinfectant.”
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to split up,” Biana said.
“Isn’t that better than putting Calla at risk?”
“Of course,” Biana said—though she didn’t look happy about it. “But . . . we could still walk back at least part of the way together.”
“I shouldn’t go more than halfway, though, just to be safe.”
They’d only taken a few steps when a flash of light drew their attention. A black-cloaked figure appeared a few feet away, his sleeve bearing the unmistakable white eye symbol of the Neverseen.
NINETEEN
THE MEMBER OF the Neverseen seemed as surprised as they were, but Sophie recovered quicker. Her instincts took over, red fury rimming her vision as she pooled her anger, preparing to inflict.
“That’s enough of that,” the Neverseen member said, raising his hands and triggering a flash of blinding light.
Sophie charged forward, hoping to grab him before he could leap away, but Biana blocked her, shouting, “He’s a Psionipath!”
The warning rang in Sophie’s ears as the light solidified, encasing the cloaked figure under a glowing dome.
“He makes force fields?” Sophie asked.
“You sound impressed.” He smoothed the sleeves of his black cloak and gave a bow.
Sophie knew it wouldn’t work, but she grabbed a rock anyway, launching it at his head with all the strength she had.
Biana yanked them out of the way as the rock ricocheted, knocking a football-size crater in the tree they’d been standing in front of.
“You have to stop doing that,” Biana said.
“I agree,” the Neverseen member told them. “Those energy blasts are such a waste. And I believe this is what we call a stalemate. You can’t get to me—and if I leave this shield, you’ll unleash your Inflictor rage. So I’m going to stay right here, where it’s nice and cozy.”
Sophie turned to Biana, keeping one eye on the Psionipath. “How long before the force field wears off?”
“Long enough for someone to come to check on me,” he told her.
“And there’s no way to break through the force field?” Sophie whispered.
Biana shook her head. “Psionipaths created the shields that keep Atlantis livable underwater.”
“Like I said”—he traced his fingers along the glowing field of white energy—“we have a stalemate. So what are you going to do?”
“More of them could show up any second,” Biana whispered.
“But one of the Neverseen is right there—how can we just leave?” Sophie asked.
They hadn’t learned what he was doing to the tree—and what if he knew what happened to Keefe’s mom?
“Your Telepath tricks won’t work,” he said, somehow guessing what Sophie was planning.
Sophie ignored him, hoping her tweaked abilities would come through as she gathered her mental strength and reached for his mind. As soon as her consciousness hit the force field, it split into a thousand directions, like shoving her thoughts in a blender without the lid on.
The Psionipath laughed as she clutched her temples, struggling to fight through the headache. “Clearly the Black Swan forgot to give you any common sense.”
Fury and frustration clouded Sophie’s vision, and she fought them back, knowing she had nowhere useful to inflict them.
“Don’t think I haven’t realized you’re not here alone,” he added. “You couldn’t have leaped here—our sensors would’ve detected it. So that leaves dwarves and gnomes, and I’m betting on a gnome. Where’s your little friend hiding? Probably not close, otherwise they would’ve tried to help you.”
“You seem to know a lot about us,” Sophie said, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt.
Maybe if she egged him on, he’d slip and tell her something useful.