Neverseen (21 page)

Biana made progress as well. She could hold her vanish for so long, Sophie would forget she was in the room. But Biana couldn’t figure out how to hide from Calla, and neither could Della. Calla kept explaining that she saw “glints of life”—which sounded a bit like pollen—gathering on their skin and giving them away. But they couldn’t sense those glints, so they didn’t know how to block them. Biana was determined to figure it out, though, and tried all kinds of crazy methods, most of which did nothing more than give her a headache.

When they weren’t improving their abilities, Della insisted they learn basic fighting skills, since self-defense was a type of violence the elvin mind could tolerate. The moves weren’t all that different from human martial arts. And of course Sophie’s clumsy limbs refused to cooperate, while Fitz, Biana, and Dex excelled.

Sophie quickly grew tired of feeling sore and pathetic—and
even more tired of only seeing Keefe when he sulked out of his room for meals—so when Fitz, Dex, and Biana were practicing some sort of scissor-kick that would surely tear every muscle in her body, she slipped away and pounded on Keefe’s bedroom door.

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me,” she told him.

When Keefe finally relented, she ducked under his arm and snuck into his room.

“Um . . . wow,” she whispered, stepping back to take in the full effect.

Three of his four walls had been covered floor to ceiling in scribbled-on pieces of paper, like something a serial killer would do. More notes were scattered on the floor, his desk, the bed.

“So . . . you’ve been busy,” Sophie said carefully. “Did the fathomlethe make you remember all this?”

Keefe kicked a crumpled note under the bed. “It gave me a surge. But the rest is just me.”

Sophie crossed to the most cluttered wall and squinted at his messy writing.

First day of Foxfire——where was she?

Level Four midterm gift——reason?

Why did she make them test me twice to see if I’d manifested as a Conjurer?

Keefe kicked another crumpled note that said something about the Celestial Festival. “It’s a lot to search through, y’know? Photographic memory.”

Sophie nodded. She turned to the wall that sat catty-corner, where the notes seemed to be focused on his more recent memories.

Dad’s missing blue pathfinder——was it her? Where did she go?

When did she rig my Sencen Crest?

Was she one of Sophie and Dex’s kidnappers? Did she hurt them?

What is she “preparing” me for?

Sophie traced her fingers over the last note. “Can I help?”

“I don’t see how. It’s all about what’s in
my
memories, and lucky for you, you didn’t grow up in that house.”

“I’m a Telepath,” she reminded him. “I can search your memories and project them in a memory log. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the whole picture, instead of just scraps of paper?”

Keefe ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know.”

Sophie picked up a note that said:
Did she ever love me?

“Please let me help,” she begged.

Keefe sank onto his bed. Scraps of paper fluttered to the floor and Sophie checked the messages:

Door on level thirty-three——where does it go?

Why so many books in her office——she never reads!

Did she ever wear the necklace I gave her?

“Please,” she whispered. “Working alone is so much harder—it’s what I used to do, remember? Until
someone
forced me to include them.”

One side of his mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. “Sounds like that person is a genius. Probably shockingly good-looking, too.”

“Eh.” She laughed when he actually looked wounded. “Oh please, you
know
you’re a heartbreaker. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Hey, I have never broken any hearts.”

“Maybe not intentionally. But come on. When you or Fitz start dating, there will be crying in the Foxfire halls. I bet there are girls crying now, wishing you guys hadn’t left.”

“Not if they’ve heard how awesome my mom is.”

“There are still just as many Keefe fangirls, trust me. Everyone loves the bad boys.”

She expected some epic Keefe teasing about her use of the word “everyone.” Instead, his shoulders dropped and he asked, “So . . . you think I’m bad?”

She grabbed a note that said “The Great Gulon Incident” and handed it to him.

His half smile returned. “Point taken.”

She brushed more notes off the bed and sat next to him. “You haven’t answered my question, by the way. Will you let me help?”

Keefe stared at his ceiling. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Let’s just say my head is not an awesome place right now.”

“So? I’ve been in Prentice’s head, remember? And Fintan’s. And Brant’s!”

“Great. So you think I’m the same as a bunch of psychos.”

“I never said that. And Prentice isn’t psycho.”

“Close enough. For right now.”

Sophie hated that he was right. “All I meant was that nothing could shock me.”

“I
seriously
doubt that.”

“I don’t. I’ve also been in Alden’s mind after it shattered, remember? Shoot, I’ve been in an ogre’s mind—though that was surprisingly soft and calm. But still. An ogre brain! And I’ve been in Lady Galvin’s head too, when I stole the Alchemy midterm questions.”

“I forgot about that. Who knew you were such a rebel?”

“I have my moments.”

He almost looked proud. “But . . . now you’re used to spending your days trading secrets with Captain Perfect. And I guarantee you, my mind is nothing like his.”

“Who said it should be? And Fitz isn’t perfect, by the way.”

“He’s close enough.” He moved to the one wall in his room not covered in paper scraps. “I hate watching it,” he whispered. “Them and Della. It’s all so happy and easy.”

Sophie moved to his side.

He didn’t look at her as he added, “I used to wish I was a Vacker. I’d be over at their house, dreading the moment I had to go home. But nope. I’m a Sencen. And it just keeps getting worse and worse.”

No words existed to make anything better. So she reached for his hand.

On the wall in front of them was a particularly small note with only three words:

Who am I?

“Easy question,” she said, taking it down. “You’re Keefe Sencen. Master mischief-maker. Tormenter of principals. Frequenter of Detention. And one of the best guys I know.”

He raised one eyebrow as he turned to study her. “I’m not
the
best?”

“It’s a three-way tie. And you’re also always there when your friends need you. So how about you let one of us be there for you for a change?”

He looked away again. “You really think you can handle it?”

“Psh, I can handle anything.” She usually didn’t feel comfortable making such bold, confident statements. But for once
it actually felt right. “Please? Don’t keep doing this alone.”

Keefe sighed. “Okay . . . but remember—you promised you wouldn’t hate me.”

“I did. And that’s one promise I’ll have no problem keeping.”

“We’ll see . . .” He looked like he wanted to say something else. Instead he turned away.

“So do you want to get started now?” she asked.

“Not really.” He rubbed his eyes, and the dark circles seemed to sink deeper into his skin. “I’ve been up all night the last few days. And the one time I did sleep was with the fathomlethe. Dex was right about the dreams.” He tangled his arms around himself and shuddered. “But I don’t know if I can fall asleep.”

“Well, you’re never going to relax in this hive-of-crazy!”

She grabbed a handful of notes and pulled them off the nearest wall.

“Don’t—”

“I’m just getting them out of sight so we can organize them. This was you working alone. Now you have me.”

“I do.”

Sophie couldn’t tell if that was a statement or a question.

“Try to rest,” she told him. “I’ll be out of here as soon as I’m done cleaning up.”

Keefe opened his mouth to argue but the words were swallowed by a yawn. He crawled into bed and buried his face in his pillow. Sophie resisted the urge to tease him about drooling.

It took her longer than she’d expected to de-serial-killer
his room. But by the time she’d pulled down the last note, Keefe’s breathing had slowed. She listened to the rhythmic sound as she stacked the tattered pages together, wishing she could clear away his worries as easily as she could clear away the scraps.

“Sweet dreams,” she whispered as she turned to leave. “You deserve them.”

Keefe didn’t move, and his breathing stayed steady. But when she turned off the lights, she could’ve sworn his lips were smiling.

“How troubled is
he?” Mr. Forkle asked, giving Sophie a minor heart attack as she entered the boys’ main room. He stood by the fire pit, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames.

“Mr. Sencen,” he clarified. “How concerned should we be?”

“What do you mean by ‘concerned’?” Sophie asked.

“You did see the state of his room just now, yes?”

Sophie looked away. “I took down all the notes, so hopefully that’ll let him sleep. And he agreed to let me search his memories and record them.”

Mr. Forkle traced his fingers along his chin.

“Do you think we’re going to find a clue about the Neverseen in his memories?” she asked, the words so quiet she could barely hear them.

“It seems likely. No one keeps up a pretense perfectly. In fact, I’ve made several slips I’m stunned you didn’t catch.”

“Like what?” Sophie asked.

A smile was all he gave her.

“I’m also inclined to believe Gethen wasn’t exaggerating about the Neverseen having plans for Mr. Sencen. He’s a very talented boy. But as for whether we’ll find clues . . . well . . . searching an entire lifetime is a daunting task. Either way, I’m counting on you to keep me informed of anything concerning—and by ‘concerning,’ I mean anything relating to our fatal flaw. You’ve likely heard of the concept in your human studies. Elves all bear the same one.”

“Arrogance?” Sophie guessed.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t look at me as you said that. And that is a vice. Our fatal flaw is
guilt
. We all react to it in different ways. In Mr. Sencen’s case, it appears to have set him on a quest for understanding. Such quests often end at a crossroads, and should that be the case I cannot say which path Mr. Sencen will choose.”

“You realize that makes
zero
sense, right?”

He shrugged. “Let us hope it remains that way. But keep your eyes open to warning signs. And be sure to get some rest. Tomorrow will be very . . . complicated.”

D
ON’T SCREAM,” A
deep voice told Sophie as she passed through the breakfast area on her way for another early morning river walk.

Of course she screamed—but who wouldn’t scream if they found a strange figure lurking in the shadows? Especially if that figure happened to look like a giant two-legged poodle?

Curly white fur covered his body, leaving only his dark blue eyes and pink lips exposed.

“W-who are you?” she whispered.

The poodle figure rubbed his furry arms. “Apparently my code name is Coiffe.”

“I hope that means you’re part of the Black Swan,” Sophie said.

“Would I be here if I weren’t?” He stepped closer and she backed up. “If I meant to harm you, Sophie, I would’ve grabbed you when you entered the gazebo. I had plenty of time, and I’m much stronger than you.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“Yes.” He scratched his shoulder, then his chest, then his arms and legs. “Argh—I swear I’ve picked up ichrites in this infernal fur.”

“Ichrites?” Sophie asked.

“A type of insect that feeds on unicorn blood.” He leaned against the post of the gazebo, rubbing his back like a bear scratching on a tree. “My involvement with the Black Swan is usually more hands off. But today I must play babysitter, so I get to be
this
.” He waved his hands at his fur before going back to scratching, and Sophie got a feeling she wasn’t going to be a fan of Coiffe.

“Sophie?” Dex shouted, racing down the stairs two at a time. “Are you okay? I heard you scream.”

Fitz and Biana were right behind him, with Keefe a few steps farther back. They froze when they spotted Coiffe.

“Is this guy bothering you?” Fitz asked.

“
Is
that a guy?” Dex added.

“He says he’s with the Black Swan,” Sophie told them.

“Couldn’t anyone say that?” Fitz asked.

Coiffe rolled his eyes and pulled a monocle pendant like theirs out of the curls of his fur. “Happy now?”

“Just when I thought this place couldn’t get any weirder,” Biana mumbled.

Dex moved closer to Coiffe and squinted at his fur. “What’d you do, mix a bunch of Curly-dew with Macho-Macho and a couple drops of Body Warmer?”

“I don’t know. But I wouldn’t be surprised if your father’s ridiculous store was involved,” Coiffe muttered. “Only Kesler Dizznee would waste time figuring out how to give someone a fur coat.”

Yeah . . . Sophie definitely wasn’t going to be a fan of Coiffe.

“My father is one of the most talented alchemist’s in our world,” Dex snapped.

“He is,” Coiffe agreed. “But even you must admit he gravitates toward the absurd.”

“That’s intentional,” Sophie told him.

Kesler kept Slurps and Burps strange to make the stuck-up nobility uncomfortable.

“So wait,” Keefe jumped in. “Are you naked right now? Because I think I speak for everyone when I say: Yuck.”

Sophie smiled, relieved to see Keefe acting more like his old self. Shadows still darkened his eyes, but his smirk had returned with full force.

“If you must know,” Coiffe snapped, “I’m wearing a bathing suit under all of this. You try wearing ten pounds of fur and see
if you feel like putting a cloak on top of it—especially with the way it
tugs
. And shouldn’t there be one more of you? I was told there would be six.”