Neverseen by Shannon Messenger
“Surely the news can’t be that bad,” Alden said.
“It is,” Biana whispered, reaching for her dad. “Alvar’s part of the Neverseen.”
The vial slipped from Alden’s hand, hitting the grass with a soft thud. Elwin tried to hand it back to him, but Alden waived the elixir away. “You’re sure?” he whispered.
“Positive,” Fitz mumbled, tearing out chunks of grass by the roots. “He was also one of Sophie’s kidnappers.”
Alden wobbled as the words hit him, and Biana helped him sit on the grass. Elwin tried again to make him take the elixir, but Alden waived the medicine away, calling Fitz to come closer. The three Vackers clung to each other and cried.
Dex turned to Sophie with a look like, Do something.
Grady and Edaline looked just as helpless. Even Tam—who could’ve been smug, since he’d never trusted Alvar—wiped tears from his silvery eyes and held his sister’s hand.
Keefe, meanwhile, wandered away from the group, sitting with his back pointed in their direction. Sophie joined him.
“Alvar was my hero,” he whispered.
She reached for his hand, wondering how many betrayals Keefe could survive. “It’s not your fault for believing his lies.”
“It still makes me an idiot. Plus . . .” Keefe stared at the sky, which seemed too pink and peaceful as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. “Last night, when Alvar slept in my room, he said I reminded him a lot of himself.”
“He has good qualities too, Keefe.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think that’s what he meant. I think he was trying to recruit me.”
“They tried to recruit Jolie too, remember? All that means is he thinks you’re talented.”
“Maybe,” Keefe said, still not looking at her. “He even told me to reach out to him if I ever needed anything. Said he thought of me like a brother.”
“He’s not all bad. No one is. That’s what makes villains so scary. They’re not as different from us as we want them to be.”
“Villains,” Keefe repeated, saying the word like it tasted sour. “And they think I could be one of them. Gethen even made it sound like my mom planned for it . . .”
“So? When have you ever done what either of your parents wanted you to do?” She’d hoped that would earn her at least half a smile, but Keefe shook his head.
“Are you worrying about what Fintan said?” she asked. “About your mom . . .”
“I don’t care what happens to her.”
He must’ve cared a little, though, because after several awkward seconds he asked, “What do you think Fintan meant about bartering for her freedom?”
“I don’t know. But the Neverseen are never going to do anything to help us. It’s all a trick, just like the cure. That doesn’t mean we give up hope, though. There are lots of things we haven’t tried.”
“Like what?”
Sophie couldn’t think of any, but she knew they existed. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”
His shrug wasn’t really an answer.
“Sophie?” Alden said, waiting for her to turn around. He looked pale, and the tight lines in his features added years to his face. But he didn’t seem ready to shatter as he said, “I’ve often wondered how the Neverseen knew we’d found you. I never considered that I’d told Alvar when Fitz returned from San Diego. He used to be part of the search so I thought he deserved to know . . . I owe you a huge apology.”
“No you don’t,” she promised, rushing over to give him a hug.
Fitz and Biana joined in, and after a moment she felt more arms add to the group as Grady, Edaline, Elwin—even Dex—held everyone tight. Sophie glanced to where Keefe sat alone and glared at him until he reluctantly got up and hugged his friends. Tam and Linh were the last to wrap their arms around the group, but they fit right in.
“What happened?” Della asked, sending everyone scrambling back.
She stood with all five members of the Collective, but Sophie could only focus on Della. She knew in a few seconds Della would go from worried to utterly devastated, and Sophie wished she could stop time so it wouldn’t have to happen.
Alden cleared his throat. “There’s much to discuss, my love. But we should go home.”
Della shook her head. “Where’s Alvar? What’s going on—”
“It’s not what you think,” Alden interrupted. “He’s . . .”
His voice faded away. Fitz and Biana couldn’t seem to say it either.
Grady stepped forward. “Alvar has . . . lost his way. Like Brant. And Lady Gisela.”
Sophie could see the moment of understanding dawn in Della’s eyes. Grief turned to shock—then fury and confusion, all of the chaos spilling out in thick tears.
“No,” Della whispered. “He wouldn’t . . .”
“Oh, he would.” Fitz’s voice was black ice.
“Come on,” Alden said, hooking his arm gently around his wife. “They can handle this one without us.”
He turned to Mr. Forkle, who nodded gravely.
“If it helps,” Granite said quietly, “this changes nothing for us. We trust your commitment implicitly—same for Fitz and Biana. Whenever—if ever—you’re ready to return to our cause, there will always be a place.”
Except now they’d be working to capture their son and brother, Sophie realized.
And when Fitz and Biana had fought the Neverseen on Mount Everest, there was a good chance they’d been fighting Alvar without realizing it.
But Keefe was facing that too, and he was doing okay. Ish.
Now they could band together, once they recovered from the shock of it.
Fitz took his dad’s free hand, Biana clung to her brother, and the four Vackers leaped away as a family.
“The Council is on their way, I assume?” Mr. Forkle asked Grady.
“Oralie said they were going to make sure the fire was contained in Wildwood before they came here,” Grady said.
At the mention of the devastated colony, all eyes turned to Calla, who was leaning against a tree, her ear pressed to the bark.
“There is so much life here,” Calla whispered, her eyes turning to the pastures. “More than I’ve felt anywhere.”
Havenfield was one of the rehabilitation centers for the Sanctuary, so the expansive grounds were divided into pastures for all manner of impossible creatures.
“This is where you live?” Calla asked Sophie.
“When I’m not banished,” she said, forcing a smile.
Calla turned to the rows of bulbous trees in the distance, where the Havenfield gnomes normally lived. “I like it here. This will be good.”
“What will?” Sophie asked.
“I’ll explain when the Council arrives,” Calla promised.
She stood to wander the grounds, humming to the various trees, and the adults murmured among themselves, discussing things Sophie couldn’t make herself pay attention to. She sat with her friends, the five of them lost in their own worries as the sky faded from sunset to twilight.
The evening star had just risen when the Council glittered into the clearing.
“Still wearing disguises?” Councillor Alina said, frowning at the Collective.
“We would love to work with you openly,” Granite told her. “You’re the ones who’ve denied us the privilege.”
Councillor Emery held up his hand, silencing Alina before she could respond. “We have more important things to discuss than our divisions.”
“Indeed we do,” Mr. Forkle said. “I assume you know about Ravagog.”
“We’ve seen the damage,” Councillor Emery agreed.
He didn’t sound furious. He sounded impressed.
Still, Sophie had to ask, “Does this mean we’re going to war with the ogres?”
“It’s possible,” Councillor Emery warned. “But too early to tell. You have dealt King Dimitar a heavy blow. You’ve demolished Ravagog’s gate and removed the only bridge connecting his city. Our goblins are already forming a perimeter around the
“This is assuming, of course, that they truly have lost their secret weapon,” Councillor Terik chimed in.
All eyes shifted to Calla.
She finished the song she’d been humming and took a slow breath, keeping her shoulders square. “The ogres’ cure was a fake,” she said, allowing them a second to process. “But it doesn’t matter. I will be the cure.”
SEVENTY-FOUR
WHAT EXACTLY DOES that mean?” Elwin asked Calla. “How can you be the cure?”
“Because I know what the Panakes are,” Calla said. “The legends called them the Brave Ones and I never understood why. But their roots sang of a life given freely. That’s where the healing comes from. The blossoms sprout from the sacrifice.”
“Anyone else confused?” Dex asked.
Sophie definitely was.
But she didn’t like the word “sacrifice.”
She ran to Calla’s side, grabbing her green-thumbed hands. “Please tell me you’re not sacrificing yourself.”
Calla stared at the pastures, her eyes both sad and dreamy. “I’m old. I’ve enjoyed thousands of years on this earth. And now I’ll enjoy thousands more in a different form.”
“But—”
Calla placed her finger on Sophie’s lips. “You can’t change this, Sophie. Do not try.”
“So you’re saying the Panakes were gnomes,” Councillor Emery said, breaking the silence.
“Brave Ones who choose to shift their form,” Calla agreed. “Their sacrificed life energy nourished the Panakes to give them the power of healing.”
“Fascinating,” Councillor Terik whispered.
Bronte shook his head. “All this time, we never realized the cure was within our control.”
“What control?” Sophie asked. “She has to die for this. Calla, you can’t—”
“I must,” Calla interrupted. “Don’t tell me you would not do the same, if you could save your friends.”
Tears gathered in Sophie’s eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “But you’re my friend too.”
Calla smiled. “I know. And I do this to help you, as well.” She turned to the Council, her gray eyes hardening. “Remove the banishment from these children—all of them. Even the two who’ve left. They saved my species. I wouldn’t know this path to the cure without them.”
“I agree,” Councillor Bronte said, ignoring Councillor Alina’s huff. “It is time we start correcting our past errors.”
The Councillors murmured among themselves, but Sophie couldn’t listen. She was too busy trying to think of a way to change Calla’s mind.
She only paid attention when Councillor Emery called, “All in favor?”
All twelve Councillors raised their hands.
Grady and Edaline rushed to hug Sophie, scooping up Dex and Keefe in the process. Sophie pulled away, not ready to celebrate.
“Calla,” she started.
“This was my choice,” Calla interrupted. “I made it willingly. And it cannot be undone. I’ve already let my final song settle into my heart. There’s no stopping the shift now.”
Elwin made his way over, flashing colored orbs around Calla. “She’s right. It looks like everything inside her is slowing down.”
“How long do you have?” Grady asked, holding Sophie steady as everything spun too fast.
Calla stared at her hands, where the green coloring was already spreading beyond her thumbs. “Sometime tonight the final shift will happen, and by morning you’ll find my tree.”
“Morning,” Sophie repeated, her voice breaking.
That was too soon. Everything was happening so fast—she couldn’t . . .
“Hey,” Keefe said as Sophie pulled away from Grady. He took her hands. “It’s okay.”
“How is it okay?” she yelled. “Calla’s dying.”
“I’m changing,” Calla corrected. “And I don’t mind—see?”
She offered Keefe her hand, and he placed his palm over hers and closed his eyes.
“She really does feel at peace,” he said.
“I am.” Calla wiped Sophie’s tears. “Please don’t cry for me. This is my happy ending. How many get to choose their last breath, and make it for the good of everyone?”
“But I’m going to miss you so much,” Sophie cried.
“And when you do, you can come sit under my tree.” Calla turned to Grady and Edaline. “I have one favor to ask. I must set my roots down somewhere. And the earth feels peaceful here.”
“Of course,” Edaline whispered. “Our home is your home.”
“Anywhere you’d like,” Grady added. “Even if you want the middle of a pasture.”
Calla pointed to a small hill overlooking the other pastures. Sophie knew if she stood there, she could see the ocean.
“That will be my place,” Calla said, “from this day forward.”
“We’ll make sure your Panakes is nurtured and protected,” Grady promised.
“No,” Sophie said. “There has to be something I can do—”
“There is,” Calla interrupted. “You can listen to my songs. And you can make starkflower stew and pour a bowl into the ground to share it with me. And you stay my brave moonlark, always.”
She reached for Sophie’s allergy remedy necklace, planting a kiss on the pin.
Then she pulled Sophie close for a final hug.
“You must go now,” Calla whispered. “I don’t want you to witness the shift. Go inside—all of you. Please.”
Everyone watched in silence as Calla climbed the hill—her hill. The last place she would ever stand.
“Go,” she said again, planting her feet firmly in the center. “Let us all find rest.”
She closed her eyes then, swaying with the breeze. The faintest hum of her melody drifted through the night, turning the air restful. Singing of the coming dawn.
“Goodbye,” Sophie whispered, so softly she was sure Calla couldn’t hear her.
Calla opened her eyes. “Farewell, Sophie Foster.”
SEVENTY-FIVE
THEY MOVED OUT of Calla’s sight, near a pasture filled with grazing griffins. The Council left quickly, promising they’d return in the morning to check the Panakes.
Elwin vowed to come as well, in the hopes that there’d be blossoms ready to harvest. None of the gnomes in Lumenaria were showing red yet, but the sooner they got the cure, the better.
“What about you?” Mr. Forkle asked Tam and Linh. “I can bring you to your family. Or, we have two tree houses that now have vacancies—regardless of whether you join our order.”
The twins exchanged a glance.
“If you mean that,” Linh said, “we’d like to take your offer.”
“Someday we’ll face our family,” Tam added. “But not until we’re ready”
“Fair enough,” Mr. Forkle said. “And what about you, Mr. Dizznee? I’m assuming you’ll be going home?”
Dex nodded. “Unless Sophie needs me.”
Sophie choked down the lump in her throat. “Give the triplets a hug for me.”
Dex hugged Sophie first, telling her to hit her panic switch if she needed him. She promised she would as he glittered away.
“Which leaves you,” Mr. Forkle told Keefe. “You can stay with Tam and Linh. Or I’m sure Alden has a place for you at Everglen.”
“We have one here as well,” Grady said.
“Wow, didn’t see that coming,” Keefe told him. “And thanks. But . . . I’m going back to Candleshade—and there’s no need for that tidal wave of worry you’re hitting me with, Foster. I’ll be fine.”
“Fine?” Sophie repeated, remembering Keefe’s epic freak-out when he’d found out the Black Swan were considering letting his father join their ranks. “You can’t go back there, Keefe. Y
“I do,” he agreed. “But I can’t keep running from who I am.”
His voice hitched on the last words, and he wouldn’t look at her as Mr. Forkle created him a path to Candleshade. When he glittered away, she caught a glimpse of the scared angry boy she was starting to know too well.
Part of her wanted to chase him, drag him back to a better place. The other part of her couldn’t handle any more drama that day.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mr. Forkle told her. “And I’ll send your belongings within the hour. I know there’s a certain blue elephant you cannot sleep without. As well as a troublesome imp!”
Sophie mumbled her thanks, but sleep was out of the question. How could she sleep when she knew Calla was out there, changing?
“Come on, kiddo,” Grady said, wrapping his arm around her. Edaline did the same, and they walked inside arm in arm.
Sophie studied Havenfield’s living room, with its crystal walls overlooking the ocean and its wide curved staircase, trying to feel like she was truly home. Edaline made custard bursts while Sophie showered and changed, and she was glad to be wearing nonfurry pajamas. But even with Ella in her arms and Edaline rubbing her back, her bed felt weird.
Her room felt weird.
Everything was wrong.
When her parents finally left, she squeezed her eyes tight and stretched out her mind to Silveny.
FRIEND! the alicorn transmitted. SOPHIE! FRIEND! VISIT!
Sophie only had one question.
Safe? she transmitted.
SAFE! SAFE! SAFE! Silveny agreed, and Sophie felt her shoulders relax. She hadn’t forgotten the secret Keefe had shared with King Dimitar.
Tomorrow, she would have to ensure Silveny stayed safe—permanently.
Calla’s Panakes tree was the most exquisitely beautiful tree in the history of beautiful trees. It stood stately and elegantly on its hill, with long sweeping branches floating on the ocean breeze. The tree reminded Sophie of a weeping willow, but it didn’t make her sad like she’d thought it would. Somehow, the tree felt hopeful—and friendly.
It might’ve been the braided bark, which reminded her of Calla’s plaited hair. Or the way she could hear soft whispers in the rustling star-shaped leaves. Most likely, though, it was the colorful blossoms. Thousands of them—maybe millions—turning the branches into garlands of silky fluff.