Neverseen by Shannon Messenger
Mr. Forkle scowled. “We’re trying to have a private conversation.”
“Then you shouldn’t have it in a common room.” Keefe plopped into one of the boulder-beanbag chairs, propping up his feet. “And by the way, Sir Astin? How’d you pull off being a Mentor while you were living next to Sophie in human land?”
“That is a secret I’m not willing to share.”
Keefe got up and circled Mr. Forkle. “I bet if I really think about it I can guess the other yous.”
“I thought you had a project to work on,” Mr. Forkle reminded him. “Something to do with a memory?”
“Yeah . . . it wasn’t what I thought it was.” He tried to shrug it off, but his fists were clenched. “Besides, I thought I should be a good friend and check on Fitz. Do not go in there. It’s pretty much the Great Vacker Hurlfest. Every time Fitz spews up black gunk, it makes Biana barf, and then Della loses it—and repeat!”
“Does that mean he’s getting worse?” Sophie asked.
“Actually, he looks pretty good—y’know, when he’s not gagging up bug venom. He’s awake now, and he’s got some color back in his cheeks. But I couldn’t stick around. I don’t know how Dex is doing it.”
“It’s remarkable what one can withstand when one feels they must punish oneself.” Mr. Forkle rolled the cache around his palm before handing it back to Sophie. “Protecting this is your responsibility now. And you must take it as seriously as the Councillors do. They swear on their lives to never let it out of their possession.”
“But I thought you didn’t want me carrying it around.”
“I don’t. You haven’t tried to access the secrets within the cache, have you?”
Sophie shook her head.
“Good. Do not attempt it. I couldn’t tell if Oralie was bluffing when she suggested that Kenric made a way for you to open it, but her reasoning makes sense—and trust me when I say you don’t want that responsibility. There are reasons the Councillors erase these secrets from their minds.”
“Are the secrets the same in every cache?” Sophie asked, wondering if any involved the drakostomes. That would explain their reaction when she’d mentioned giving it to the gnomes.
“The Council divides the secrets up to ensure each of them is only responsible for protecting a portion. This cache contains seven.”
“Okay, but here’s what I don’t get,” Keefe jumped in. “How does it help to forget about something? It’s not like that makes it go away.”
Sophie had been wondering the same thing. It was like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand.
“Some of the secrets are removed for the Councillors’ self-preservation,” Mr. Forkle explained. “Ruling the world is full of impossible choices. Sometimes they must act in ways that would shatter them from guilt. So they erase it from their minds to spare themselves the agony. But there are also secrets that would send the planet spiraling into chaos if they ever came out. The safest option is to ensure no one knows about them.” He stared longingly at the cache. “Never let me have this. The temptation is too great.”
“So what do I do with it?” Sophie asked.
“I’ll have to enlist the aid of a trusted Conjurer. In the meantime, that cache must not leave your possession—and you will not leave this hideout. Is that clear?”
“But I have to go to Exillium.”
“No you don’t. You’re in hiding,” he reminded her. “The Council can hardly force you.”
“But I want to go,” Sophie argued.
“So do I,” Keefe jumped in. “I’m tired of being cooped up in this hideout all day.”
“You mean you’re tired of being safe?” Mr. Forkle asked. “Tired of training and improving your abilities?”
“Pretty much,” Keefe said.
“Most of our training was to prepare us to rescue Prentice,” Sophie added, “and now we’ve done that. Well, we’ve almost done that. He’ll be rescued tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, we still don’t know what the Neverseen is doing with those trees. And we’re about to hand Gethen over—”
“Not a good trade, by the way,” Keefe interrupted.
“It was, actually,” Mr. Forkle told him. “We’ve learned all we can from Gethen. Plus, the Council is not without their talents. Why not let them try their hand? Anything they learn we’ll be able to recover.”
“Okay, but my point,” Sophie said, getting back to her argument, “is that with Gethen gone, Exillium is our best chance of discovering more about the Psionipath. Someone has to remember something about him. Or if nothing else, we’ll learn about the Neutral Territories.”
Mr. Forkle rubbed his head, leaving red marks from pressing so hard. “All I can promise is that I will discuss the matter with the Collective.”
“That usually means ‘yes,’ ” Physic said, making everyone jump as she swished back into the room. “He knows the Collective never rejects his ideas. Why else do you think we have these stupid code names?”
“Well, now we know one of his identities,” Keefe said.
“He told you he’s—”
“Sir Astin,” Mr. Forkle jumped in. “And nice try, Mr. Sencen. No one will be revealing any of my other identities, accidentally or otherwise. Physic will also not be revealing hers. Did you get the ingredient for Mr. Vacker?” he asked her.
Physic held up a palm-size white jar. “It wasn’t easy. My usual apothecary was closed, so I had to go to the Hekses’ unicorn preserve. Why didn’t you tell me the plague had spread to the Starkrial Valley?”
Mr. Forkle looked pale as he mumbled, “I wasn’t aware that it had.”
“Wait, isn’t that where the Lake of Blood is?” Sophie asked.
“It is,” Mr. Forkle said. “But it’s a large valley, and the Lake of Blood is on the other side. Still, I’d better check on Sior, Lur, and Mitya.”
He pulled his crystal from his cloak and turned to Physic. “You can handle things without me?”
“Don’t I always?” She offered Sophie her hand as Mr. Forkle leaped away. “Come on, let’s go finish healing your friend.”
THIRTY-THREE
PHYSIC’S GOOPY, POOPY salve—or as Keefe called it, the pooplosion!—did its job, erasing the last remains of the black spiderweb veins on Fitz’s chest. After that it only took another hour of dry heaving and fifteen other medicines before Physic pronounced Fitz “cured.”
“You’re not healed,” she warned Fitz. “You’re going to need another week of recovery for that. And you’ll need to drink a vile tea every morning.”
“Did you say ‘vile’?” Della asked.
“Oh yeah—it’s nasty stuff. But so is getting impaled by a giant bug.” She set a jar on the table filled with seven spiky red flowers. “Steep one hollowthistle into a cup of boiling water and make him down the whole thing in one gulp. Try not to throw it up,” she told Fitz. “And no getting out of this bed except for essential things.”
“So, like, a few rounds of tackle bramble?” Keefe asked.
“Very funny,” Physic said. “But seriously—no. Fitz will look worse before he gets better. Just know that’s part of the process. I promise he’ll be his old self by the seventh cup.”
“Can’t I just down all seven cups right now?” Fitz asked.
“Not unless you want your insides to liquefy.”
“Am I the only one who thinks that would be kind of cool?” Keefe asked, earning another laugh from Physic.
“I like your style, kid,” she told him. “Though I have a feeling I’m going to need to keep an eye on you.”
“You can try,” Keefe told her. “And dude, now that you’re done with the Great Vacker Hurlfest, we can tell you that Foster found out one of Forkle’s identities. Sir Astin.”
Della’s eyes widened the most. “He was my Mentor when I was a Level Three.”
“He was?” Sophie asked. “Do you think he was in the Black Swan back then?”
“I don’t know, it was a long time ago.” Della stared out the window, her min
Fitz, Dex, and Biana meanwhile didn’t seem that impressed. They were surprised, of course. But crazy as the revelation was, it still felt like Mr. Forkle’s other identities had to be an even bigger mind blow.
Sophie jolted back to the present when Fitz yelped.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I was just trying to sit up.”
“Vertical is not your friend yet,” Physic told him. “Make horizontal your buddy for the next seven days.”
Fitz sighed, and winced from the sigh. “Can I at least practice Telepathy?”
“You might be up to it in a few days,” she told him. “But I doubt it. You need to rest. You came pretty close to dying.”
“I knew it,” Dex mumbled from the corner. Sophie hadn’t seen him this miserable since the Council had forced him to adjust her ability-restricting circlet. “Can I . . . um . . . talk to you for a sec?” he asked Fitz. “Alone?”
“Uh . . . sure,” Fitz said slowly.
“Come on,” Della said, herding everyone out. “Physic should check us, too.”
“Indeed I should,” Physic agreed.
“But we’re going to stand close enough so we can eavesdrop, right?” Keefe asked.
Fitz flung a pillow and smacked Keefe in the head—then yelped, clutching his shoulder.
“Don’t make me restrain you!” Physic warned him. “And don’t you dare fling that pillow back!” she told Keefe as he lined up his aim.
Sophie was the last to leave the room, trying to guess why Dex wouldn’t look at her. Her theories evaporated when she entered the main room and found Mr. Forkle and Calla whispering.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Probably nothing,” Calla said, but the strain in her voice was too noticeable.
Mr. Forkle cleared his throat. “I was unable to find Lur, Mitya, or Sior. I’m sending Calla to make a more thorough search.”
“Won’t she be exposed to the plague?” Sophie asked.
“I won’t surface unless the roots assure me it is safe,” Calla promised.
Keefe’s eyes darkened. “If anything happened to them because they were searching for my mother—”
“The two would have nothing to do with each other,” Calla promised.
When Keefe started to argue, Calla made her way to his side. Sophie couldn’t hear what Calla whispered to him, but his whole expression softened.
“I’ll be home soon,” Calla said, nodding to Sophie. “Try not to worry.”
“Here,” Physic said when Calla was gone. She handed Sophie a small green vial. “This will help you destress.”
Sophie sniffed the elixir. “This doesn’t have limbium in it, right?”
“Nope—I learned my lesson last time.”
“Last time?”
Physic adjusted her mask. “Oh, you know. The time we healed your abilities. I was consulted on the cure. Looks like we missed a spot with that scar on your hand.”
The story made sense, and Sophie would’ve accepted it—if Physic weren’t studiously avoiding her eyes.
Did that mean Physic was there for her other allergic reaction? The one the Black Swan had erased from her memory?
I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Forkle transmitted. And not because I’m invading your privacy. So in the interests of our newfound honesty . . . yes. Your theory is correct. And that is all I will say.
Thank you, Sophie transmitted back. He wasn’t giving her all the answers she wanted. But she could live with this compromise.
Further discussion was interrupted by Dex shuffling past. He headed straight for his room, but Sophie wouldn’t let him escape that easily. She caught him before he closed his door.
The floor of his room was strewn with gadgets and tools and things that could only be described as “doodads.” Dex kicked some aside to clear a path, mumbling, “You don’t have to check on me.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Besides, how many times have you checked on me?”
“Yeah, but this is different.” He picked up what looked like a dismantled melder and started tweaking the wires.
“So what did you and Fitz talk about?” she asked.
Dex added a new gear to his contraption. “I told him I’m sorry.”
“What happened today wasn’t your fault, Dex.”
“It kinda was. But that isn’t why I’m sorry.” He added another wire to the gadget and it whirred to life, playing a tinkling musical sound. He let the notes play until the song came to an end. “I told him I’m sorry for hating him so much.”
“Oh,” Sophie said. “That must’ve been awkward.”
“Yeah.”
“So . . . what did he say?”
“He wanted to know why.”
“Why do you hate him?”
“You can’t guess?”
She had one theory—but it would start a conversation she didn’t know how to finish. Plus, Dex had made it clear he was not a member of the Vacker fan club from her very first day at Foxfire, when Fitz didn’t remember Dex’s name.
“I know he wasn’t always nice to you,” she tried.
“He used to ignore me. And he’s just so perfect.” Dex sighed, pulling apart his new gadget and dropping the bits to the floor. “But . . . he’s not a bad guy. And he saved us today.”
It was the nicest thing Dex had ever said about Fitz, and Sophie could tell part of him only begrudgingly admitted it.
“So what did Fitz say?” she asked.
“He said we should be friends. And I said I’d try. And then he looked like he wanted to hug it out, so I bolted out of there.”
Sophie laughed. “Wow, you and Fitz—BFFs! That’ll be new.”
“He’s not my best friend. That spot’s already taken.”
“It is?” Sophie asked.
“Duh. Did you really think it changed?”
“I don’t know. So many things are changing.”
“I know,” he agreed quietly. “But that one won’t. Ever.”
She felt her lips stretch into the biggest smile she’d had in a long time. “Same. You know that, right? Best friends no matter what.”
“Does that mean we’re supposed to hug it out?” he asked.
“I . . . guess we could.” After the day they’d had, a hug sounded pretty good.
Dex looked a little nervous as he curled his arms around her shoulders. But it didn’t feel awkward. It felt like coming home.
“I’m always here,” he whispered.
“Me too.” She knew she should probably let go, but she stayed a little longer.
They pulled apart when Keefe shouted, “YOU GUYS HAVE TO SEE THIS!”
They ran to the main room and found Keefe standing under the skylight, holding up Mr. Snuggles like it was a baby lion about to be made king. The sparkly red dragon twinkled almost as much as Keefe’s eyes as he said, “I went in to check on our boy and found him cuddling with this!”
“Isn’t that the same dragon Fitz brought to your house that one time?” Dex asked Sophie.
“WHAT?” Keefe shouted. “YOU KNEW AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?!”
“Mr. Snuggles wasn’t my secret to share,” Sophie said.
“IT’S NAME IS MR. SNUGGLES?! That is . . . . I can’t even . . .” Keefe ran back to Fitz’s room shouting, “ARE YOU MISSING YOUR SNUGGLE BUDDY?!”
“Fitz is going to die of embarrassment, you know that, right?” Biana asked.
“I didn’t know he had a stuffed dragon,” Della said. “I wonder where he got it.”
“Elwin gave it to him when Alden was sick,” Sophie explained. “And Elwin named him.”
“Wow, you really know my brother super well, don’t you?” Biana asked.
Sophie’s cheeks flushed. “Well . . . we have to do a lot of trust exercises.”
Dex sighed.
Down the hall, Sophie could hear Keefe laughing hysterically.
“I better make sure Fitz is still talking to me,” she said.
“You sho
Sophie laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Fitz’s door was closed, so she knocked before going in.
“I told you, Mr. Snuggles’s visiting hours are over,” he called through the door.
“What about your visiting hours?” she asked.
“Oh! I thought you were Keefe.”
Sophie pushed open the door. “I get that a lot.”
“YOU SHOULD BE SO LUCKY!” Keefe shouted from the main room.
Fitz had Mr. Snuggles perched on his lap, and the sparkly dragon looked almost defiant. Like, Yeah, I’m cute and glittery—what’s it to you?
“So . . . I guess the secret’s out,” she said.
“Looks like it. You’d think almost dying would earn me a little slack.”
“NOT WHEN YOU’RE CUDDLING WITH A GLITTERY DRAGON, DUDE!” Keefe shouted.
Fitz smiled.
“So you’re not mad?” Sophie asked.
“Nah. It’s good to see Keefe acting normal again.”
“It is,” Sophie agreed, hoping it would last. “But what about you? How are you feeling?”
Fitz shrugged, then winced again, which made it a little hard to believe his “Fine.”
“I’m mostly embarrassed,” he promised. “I mean, who gets impaled by a giant bug? And I’m feeling guilty for all the times I’ve teased you about almost dying. It’s not a lot of fun.”
“It really isn’t.” Sophie sat on the edge of his bed. “Don’t do it again, okay?”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
Sophie sighed, knowing it was a deal neither of them could honestly make.
He yawned, and she patted Mr. Snuggles on the head as she stood to leave.
Fitz mumbled something, the words too sleepy to be coherent. But Sophie could’ve sworn he’d said, “Miss you.”
“How is he?” Mr. Forkle asked as she entered the hallway.
She shrugged. “Resting.”
“You should do the same. We have an early morning tomorrow. You’re coming with us to make the exchange for Prentice. And then we’ll start the process of learning what he’s hiding.”