Neverseen by Shannon Messenger
It cost her three pairs of shoes to get his attention, and he refused to open the window. Fortunately, she’d prepared for that with a premade sign.
I’M HERE.
Time seemed to slow down as Keefe stared at the words.
He didn’t look at her as he turned away, and her heart crashed like stone. But he turned back a second later, holding his blanket and a pillow. No smile, but it was still an invitation.
Sophie raced to grab hers, and they both set up for another window slumber party, each leaning against the glass.
The distance between them had never felt so enormous.
But Sophie was willing to settle for “close enough.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
KEEFE WAS SILENT at breakfast, and the meal became awkward with a side of miserable. Dex and Biana were smart enough not to ask what was going on.
Keefe disappeared into his room the second he was done eating. The rest of them moved to the boys’ common room to work. Dex was hammering tiny stone wheels—apparently he and Blur had decided that was the best way to add them to the Twiggler. Biana and Calla worked by the windows, testing to see how long Biana could fool Calla’s eyes. And Fitz and Sophie plopped into the boulder beanbag chairs for another Cognate exercise.
The next assignment was called Trigger Cues, a trick to make them more efficient at probing memories. Apparently each elvin mind was filled with tiny threadlike trails, and Telepaths could learn to follow them to something called a “cue.”
The more uncomfortable the trail felt to navigate, the more the person had tried to hide the truth at the end. Their assignment was to follow a difficult path and say the cue out loud. The shock of hearing it was supposed to trigger some sort of mental reaction that would uncover the secret to the other person.
Fitz let Sophie go first, and she chose a trail that felt like crawling through an itchy wool sweater. Waiting at the end were two words: Barcelona, Spain. When she spoke them, Fitz’s mind filled with a boy’s startled face—obviously a human boy, based on his clothes. He shouted, “¡Imposible!” and chased Fitz through the busy streets.
That happened back when I was trying to find you, Fitz transmitted. I’d already ruled out the girl I’d gone to see, and I was getting ready to leave when I saw a group of kids kicking pigeons. One bird had a damaged wing and I was worried they were going to kill it, so I used telekinesis to lift it to safety. I didn’t know anyone was near me. But that kid saw, and when I ran, he chased me, and he kept shouting things in a language I couldn’t understand.
Wow, I can’t believe how much you went through when you were trying to find me.
It was worth it.
Her cheeks flamed, which was of course when Keefe came out of his room. He didn’t acknowledge anyone as he plopped into one of the beanbag chairs near Sophie, but she could’ve sworn he muttered something about Sophitz.
“My turn?” Fitz asked.
Sophie nodded, imagining that all her most embarrassing secrets had trails lined with the safe, pretty things they were supposed to be avoiding. The trick might’ve worked, because the cue Fitz learned wasn’t embarrassing—though it was the kind of secret she should’ve been guarding much harder.
“221B Baker Street,” he said.
Her mind showed him a glass marble floating in a black void.
“Oh, is that how you retrieve the cache?” Fitz asked, then covered his mouth. “Sorry, didn’t mean to say that out loud. And I didn’t wreck anything by saying the words, right?”
“Nope, it only works with my voice.”
Dex ended their conversation by jumping to his feet, screaming, “I DID IT!”
“You got the Twiggler to work?” Sophie asked, rushing to his side. “Does that mean you can use keywords now?”
“And all kinds of other things,” Dex said. “Like, if I do this”—he spun the wheels he’d attached like knobs—“it pulls up all the files that have text blacked out. And right here”—he spun to the middle of the scroll—“it tells us what the drakostomes are. They’re nematodes!”
“Are those some sort of frog?” Biana asked.
“They’re parasites,” Calla corrected. “Microscopic parasitic roundworms. I’ve cured many kinds from many forests.”
The five friends looked at each other, knowing what that meant.
“What am I looking at?” Calla asked, leaning closer to the hologram. “This looks like an ancient scroll.”
Dex nodded slowly, realizing their mistake the same moment as Sophie.
“Maybe we should—” she started.
But she was too late.
“Is this a transcript of the ogre treaty negotiations?” Calla asked. “Why is it talking about nematodes? I don’t . . .”
Calla sank to her knees as the understanding washed over her.
“They knew?” she whispered. Her eyes locked with Sophie’s. “You knew?”
“Not for sure,” Sophie promised. “Not until right now.”
Calla stumbled back, rushing for the stairs.
“Wait,” Sophie called, chasing after her. “I know this is huge, but we need to think this through before we tell anyone. Once the news breaks, there’s going to be chaos.”
Calla’s voice was as hollow as her eyes as she whispered, “The Council has wasted far too much time already. Now we’re too late.”
“YOU TOLD CALLA?” Mr. Forkle shouted, storming around the girls’ common room.
“Not on purpose. Calla was here when Dex had the breakthrough,” Fitz said.
“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Dex asked.
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that’s how it happened,” Fitz said.
“Plus . . . Calla has a right to know, doesn’t she?” Sophie asked.
She couldn’t stop picturing the betrayal she’d seen in Calla’s eyes.
Mr. Forkle rubbed his temples. “I think it’s important we try to remember that the Council still could have good reasons.”
“Like what?” Sophie had to ask.
“Perhaps they didn’t want the gnomes to live their lives under constant fear,” Mr. Forkle suggested. “Or perhaps they worried what would happen if other species discovered the ogres held this powerful weapon? Don’t you think someone else might try to get their hands on the drakostomes as well? It would put them in exponentially more danger.”
Sophie sighed, no longer sure what to think.
“I must speak with the Collective,” Mr. Forkle said. “We must try to prepare for the backlash.”
“What kind of backlash do you think there will be?” Sophie asked.
“Like nothing we’ve ever seen.”
He leaped away before she could ask any further questions, and when he returned hours later, she’d never seen him look so pale.
“The gnomes are gathering in Eternalia for a protest,” he said, sinking into one of the chairs. “The Lost Cities are in chaos.”
“So what happens now?” Biana asked.
“Now we wait for the Council to respond.”
Three endless days passed, giving everyone a glimpse of life in the Lost Cities without the gnomes. Fruit fell from wilting trees, bushes sagged, grass shriveled, gardens yellowed.
On the morning of the fourth day, the Council sent out scrolls informing everyone that they’d be giving a statement in Eternalia that afternoon.
“Can we go?” Sophie asked Mr. Forkle.
“Need I remind you that you have been banished?” he asked.
“So?” Dex said. “Give me five minutes in Slurps and Burps and I’ll have us all unrecognizable.”
“What are the odds of you actually staying here and obeying me?” Mr. Forkle asked.
“Soooo not gonna happen,” Keefe said.
The rest of them nodded—even Della.
Mr. Forkle muttered a string of things that started with “you kids.” But in the end, he pulled out a pathfinder with a dark crystal, adjusted it to a facet, and handed it to Fitz.
“Give me fifteen mi
FIFTY-NINE
THE STREETS OF Mysterium—one of the elvin working class cities—were eerily quiet when Sophie and her friends arrived.
The small, plain, identical buildings were closed up and dark, and the food stalls and vendor carts were all empty. Still, Della and Biana vanished, and Sophie, Keefe, and Fitz kept the hoods of their cloaks pulled tight around their faces as Dex led them to the only unique building in the whole city.
With its curved walls and twenty different colors of paint, the Dizznee’s store looked like it had popped out of a nursery rhyme. A glowing sign read: SLURPS AND BURPS: YOUR MERRY APOTHECARY.
The door belched as they entered, and Sophie’s stomach did a few quick flips.
Waiting for them at the entrance were Dex’s dad and . . .
“Grady?”
Grady scooped her into his arms and she buried her face in his shoulder, giving herself ten seconds to soak up the hug before leaning back to study him. His blond hair was longer than she remembered, and his chiseled features looked a tiny bit sharper. But his eyes were bright and glassy with so much emotion it hurt her heart.
“I love you, Dad,” she whispered.
“I love you too,” he whispered back. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”
From the corner of her eye she could see Dex giving his dad the biggest bear hug he could.
Keefe cleared his throat.
“Sorry,” Sophie told him, wishing Keefe had someone to hug.
Dex let go of his dad too, and both father and son wiped their periwinkle eyes. Sophie had forgotten how much the two of them resembled each other.
“Well,” Kesler said, straightening his white lab coat. “This is an amazing surprise.”
“How did you know we’d be here?” Sophie asked Grady.
“Kesler hailed me after Mr. Forkle contacted him.”
“I hailed your mom, too,” Kesler told Dex, “but she wasn’t sure she could slip away. Plus, we didn’t want to bring the triplets, since we know you can’t stay. She said to give you this.”
He pulled Dex in for another big hug, and Sophie noticed Keefe cross his arms and shift away.
Kesler tousled Dex’s hair, then frowned and stepped back, “You’re taller!”
“I am?”
Sophie tilted her head. “Whoa—he’s right.”
Dex had always been shorter than her, but now they were the same height. He must’ve gone through a growth spurt over the last few weeks.
“Don’t go changing too much while you’re gone, okay?” Kesler made Dex promise. “And I know time is of the essence, so I already gathered the elixirs I thought would work best.”
He handed them each a small silver pouch filled with glass vials.
“In case you’re worried,” he told Sophie, “yours are all limbium-free.”
Technically, Kesler was Sophie’s uncle—though she never thought of him that way. Just like she never thought of Dex as her cousin. It was only by marriage—and adoption—so it wasn’t like they were actually related. Still, Kesler always treated her like family.
“I didn’t gather any for you,” he told Della, “but I can if you’d like.”
“No, I prefer invisibility,” Della said, vanishing.
“Wish I could hold my vanish for long enough,” Biana mumbled. “These elixirs taste like feet.”
“You’re lucky,” Keefe said, choking down one of his vials. “Mine tastes like armpit.”
“The bad taste is intentional,” Kesler told them. “To deter anyone from growing addicted to altering their appearance.”
Sophie plugged her nose and downed her elixirs. He’d given her Sea See, Absolutely Auburn, Freckle Juice, and Tanny Fanny. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of the last one—and she definitely didn’t like the taste. It was like drinking trash that had rotted in the sun for a couple of weeks.
“Should we be seeing a change yet?” Biana asked, pulling a mirror from her pocket.
“Usually takes about three minutes,” Dex said, darting into the maze of shelves.
“What are you looking for?” Kesler called after him.
“You gave me boring ones!” Dex returned with seven vials and chugged them all.
Kesler shook his head. “You’re going to regret that.”
“Why?” Sophie asked.
“Let’s just say too many appearance elixirs at once can be unpleasant when it’s time to pass them. Another way we make sure no one takes them too often.”
“Ew,” Biana said, tilting her mirror another angle. “I still don’t see anyth—EEP!”
She stumbled back as her dark hair turned red and coiled into tight curls. Her teal eyes paled to ice blue, and her skin turned even paler, giving her a translucent glow.
“Wow,” Sophie whispered, barely able to recognize her friend.
Fitz looked even weirder. His eyes had turned sky blue and his hair had turned dirty blond. He tossed the strands off his forehead and asked, “How do I look?”
“Like a wannabe me,” Keefe said.
The edge to his voice made it hard to smile at the joke.
Keefe started to say something else, but a sneezing fit cut him off. When he finished, he had thick black hair covering his upper lip.
“You gave me a stache?” he asked, cracking an actual smile. He twisted the ends into points as his hair and eyebrows turned the same dark shade, and his skin took on a deep tan.
“You have to see yourself,” Biana told Sophie. “You look a little like me.”
“Ew, she’s right,” Fitz said with a shudder.
Sophie tried not to take the “Ew” personally as she checked her reflection. Her hair hung in dark, soft waves, and her eyes had turned aquamarine. Freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, and she had a deep tan to match Keefe’s.
“How long will this last?” Sophie asked.
“Two hours at most. And the final twenty minutes can be hit and miss, depending on your metabolism. So I’d be away from any crowds before that happens,” Kesler warned.
“They’re not going there alone, right?” Grady asked.
The door belched. “No, they’re going with me.”
All eyes turned to find Sir Astin standing in the doorway.
“Whoa, so it really is him,” Dex said. “I mean, I know you told us, but still.”
“Him who?” Grady asked.
“This is Mr. Forkle,” Sophie said. “One of his other identities.”
Everyone squinted at the figure in front of them, trying to find any trace of Mr. Forkle in the pale blond elf.
“We need to split into two groups,” Mr. Forkle-as-Sir-Astin said. Even his voice had shifted to the high whisper Sophie remembered. “There will be less chance of anyone seeing through our disguises if the size of our group does not match expectations.”
“I’ll take Fitz and Biana with me,” Della said.
“That should work. Have your son transmit to either myself or Miss Foster if you have any problems.”
If you see Alvar, ask him about Ruy, she transmitted to Fitz, hoping the Vackers would try for a covert family reunion.
Fitz nodded as Sir Astin asked, “Are we ready?”
“Almost,” Dex said, then burped a huge belly-shaking burp that would’ve put Iggy to shame. He was still saying, “Excuse me,” when his skin and hair turned five shades darker. His periwinkle eyes turned so deep blue they almost looked black, and muscles bulged in his arms and shoulders, stretching the fabric of his shirt.
“Okay, ready,” Dex said, his voice at least an octave deeper.
Sir Astin rolled his eyes. “The Council’s address will be starting soon. Della, let’s have your group go first.”
She took Fitz’s and Biana’s hands and glittered away, using the path Sir Astin created for them.
“Where are you taking Sophie?” Grady asked.
“I believe the Council set up their stage in the diamond plaza,” Sir Astin sai
Grady nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on the guards.”
“Thank you. And thank you for your assistance, Mr. Dizznee. Your generosity will not be forgotten.”
“Just keep my boy safe and we’re even.” Kesler pulled Dex in for a final hug.
Sophie strangle-hugged Grady, wishing she’d gotten to see him for more than ten minutes.
Keefe stood there watching.
“I’m sure we’ll see each other soon,” Grady promised when Sophie pulled away.
She tried to believe him, giving one last smile as she took Sir Astin’s hand and leaped to Eternalia.
SIXTY
SOPHIE HADN’T BEEN to Eternalia since the day Kenric died, when she’d stood with Alden and Fitz, watching the jeweled city melt in the Everblaze. She’d heard it had been rebuilt, but she’d assumed it would look patched together. Instead the new city shined brighter than the original.
Each new building was made from multiple jewels, and the colors were artfully arranged. It felt like walking through a world made entirely of stained glass. And yet, the breathtaking beauty felt wrong. A place blanketed with so much tragedy shouldn’t be allowed to shimmer.
Sophie hid behind her dark hair as they entered a crowded square. Elves had gathered around a fountain with a statue in the center, resting under arching streams of colored water. Sophie’s breath caught when she recognized the statue’s face.
The sculptor had captured Kenric’s toothy grin and the twinkle in his eyes. And yet, stone could never capture the warmth Kenric had radiated.
She studied the statue’s features, trying to spot a similarity between his and hers—something to prove, or disprove, her theory. The slope of his nose looked familiar, as did the corners of his eyes, but it was too ambiguous to mean anything.
“Come along,” Sir Astin said. “The protest is this way.”
A river divided Eternalia, with the main city on one side, and the Councillors’ twelve crystal castles glittering on the other. The Pures lined both shores, filtering the air and casting slender shadows. The shadows spread wider that day, from the hundreds of gnomes clinging to the towering trunks and balancing on the fan-shaped leaves.