Neverseen (28 page)

“Are you monitoring the Neutral Territories?” she asked.

“We’re watching everywhere the plague has spread,” Emery agreed.

“And have you found any trees with force fields around them?” she asked.

Bronte frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The Neverseen have a Psionipath working with them,” Mr. Forkle explained. “We’ve been trying to ascertain his purpose.”

“Then why have we heard nothing of this?” Emery snapped.

“Well, I suppose that’s the problem with treating us as fugitives,” Mr. Forkle said. “It makes it rather hard to work together.”

Emery and Bronte shared a look, but Emery shook his head.

“What about the Vacker boy?” Emery asked. “How is he faring?”

“He’s expected to make a full recovery,” Mr. Forkle said.

Both Councillors looked noticeably relieved.

“What about Oralie?” Sophie asked. “What did you decide for her punishment?”

“She should have been removed from the Council,” Emery said. “But our world does not need the uncertainty of another election, so she has been put under surveillance and relegated to menial assignments until she earns back our trust.”

“At the moment, she’s enduring our most odious task,” Bronte said. “Monitoring Lord Cassius’s investigation.”

“What is Keefe’s father investigating?” Sophie asked.

“His own memories. He’s working with Telepaths, hoping to uncover any clues his wife might’ve given. Oralie’s there to read his emotions and ensure he’s honest about what he finds.”

“Has he found anything?” Blur asked.

“Nothing of note. Lady Gisela was very careful.”

Before anyone could respond, a light flashed next to Bronte, and Councillor Alina appeared in all her jeweled finery.

“Where’s Terik?” Bronte asked her.

“He should be here right . . . now.” Alina waived her arms like a spokesmodel and Councillor Terik appeared beside her. Something dark was slung over his shoulder, and Sophie realized it was Prentice.

“The sedatives kicked in once Alina calmed him down,” Terik explained through huffing breaths. “I’d given him some pretty strong stuff, so he’ll probably be out for hours.”

Granite moved forward to help, but the goblins raised their swords.

“First, our prisoner,” Emery told him.

“You think we’re going to betray you?” Mr. Forkle snapped.

Councillor Alina adjusted her peridot circlet. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“Fine.” Mr. Forkle turned to their dwarves. “Make the exchange.”

The dwarves passed Gethen’s cot to two of the goblins, and Terik handed Prentice to Granite.

“What did you give him?” Granite asked, cradling Prentice like a baby. Prentice’s head lolled to the side, his body limp and pale.

“You can blame his condition on Alden Vacker,” Alina told him. “And yourselves, for violating our laws.”

Sophie was tempted to grab a handful of dirt and throw it in Alina’s face, but somehow she found the willpower to refrain.

“He should be fine once the drugs wear off,” Terik promised, wiping sweat off his forehead. “Well . . . as fine as he ever is.”

Granite held Prentice tighter, whispering, “It’s going to be okay.”

Sophie wanted to believe him, but she could see the clammy sheen on Prentice’s skin.

“Thus ends our truce,” Councillor Alina said, raising a hand to order the remaining goblins back into position.

“Your real enemy is tied to that cot,” Mr. Forkle warned the Councillors.

“Said the elf hiding behind a disguise,” Alina argued.

Sophie didn’t understand why the Council refused to see that the Black Swan wasn’t evil. But then she remembered the doubt she’d felt because of Gethen’s fingernails.

It was far too easy to misunderstand a single action.

Prentice was living proof of the pain such mistakes could cause. And now she had a chance to set things right.

They brought Prentice
to a stone cottage, surrounded by crumbling paths and mossy walls. It sat nestled in a verdant valley, blanketed with grassy fields and rolling hills, under a gray sky swirling with mist.

“Are we in England?” Sophie asked, feeling like she’d fallen into a period movie. The only thing missing were horse-drawn carriages.

“It’s possible,” Mr. Forkle said, licking one of the stones to open the door to the house. “We rarely consider human land claims when we choose our hideouts.”

He led everyone inside, and the house’s interior reminded Sophie of the Healing Center at Foxfire. The floor was sleek silver, and along one wall was a neatly blanketed cot, as well as a table covered in bottles of Youth and vials of medicine. Two of the other walls were floor-to-ceiling apothecary shelves—hundreds of tiny square drawers Sophie was sure were filled with all manner of elixirs. The last wall had a window overlooking the lush valley, along with a counter, a sink, and a full set of alchemy equipment.

“How long have you had this place?” she asked.

“Since Prentice’s memory break,” Mr. Forkle said. “We knew we had years to wait for your abilities to develop—but we wanted to be ready just in case.”

“I’ll take the first shift,” Blur said, heading down a flight of stairs in the corner. Another flight went up to some sort of loft.

“Private quarters,” Mr. Forkle explained. “So that those staying here to care for Prentice have somewhere to rest.”

Granite set Prentice on the bed as Squall grabbed a crystal basin from the counter and filled it with water. They toweled off Prentice’s face and hands and tied back his dreadlocked hair. Blur returned with a clean robe, and Sophie turned away as they changed him. She helped Wraith and Mr. Forkle sort through the drawers, pulling out various ointments and unguents. By the time everyone was finished, Prentice’s skin looked clean and smooth—all cuts and scratches healed.

If he hadn’t been so unnaturally still, he might’ve looked normal.

“It’s strange for the sedatives to take such a strong effect, isn’t it?” Granite asked.

“Indeed it is,” Mr. Forkle said. “And to last this long.”

Sophie thought back to the dark days after Alden’s mind had broken, when Elwin was attempting to treat him. The sedatives had worn off so fast, Elwin couldn’t keep up with them.

“Do you think there’s something wrong?” she whispered.

“I don’t know what to think,” Mr. Forkle admitted. “Not until I have more information.”

She realized that everyone was looking at her. “You want me to heal him right now?”

“Not
heal
,” Granite said.

“Unless you feel like you’re capable,” Mr. Forkle jumped in. “But what we truly need is a better sense of his mental state. None of us can enter a broken mind except you.”

Sophie’s mouth went dry, but she took a deep breath and stepped closer, trying not to think about the last time she’d been in Prentice’s mind. She focused on Alden—and the joy she’d felt bringing him back—as she reached for Prentice’s temples and pushed her consciousness into his.

His mind was dark—but not like any darkness she’d experienced before. She was used to blackness that had a shape. A space. An end.

This was absolute
nothingness
.

No light. No sound.

Not a whisper. A breath. A flutter.

She tried to call Prentice’s name, but the transmissions vanished. It felt like trying to light a match in a room with no oxygen.

Heaviness settled over her, burying her in the emptiness, until all she had left was a single, solitary thought—a truth so inescapable, it turned solid in her mind, creating a lifeline to climb up and out of the black.

Sophie stumbled back from Prentice, the world crashing around her in a tornado of senses. But even the chaos of reality
couldn’t change the heartbreaking truth she’d discovered.

She gave herself several long breaths before she turned to face the Collective.

Their hopeful expressions crumbled as she whispered, “Prentice is gone.”

I
S HE USING
the same trick as Gethen?” Biana asked when Sophie had finished her update.

After hours and hours of trying, Mr. Forkle had brought her back to the tree house to rest.

Sophie sighed. “I don’t know.”

She wandered to her window, staring at the dark forest. She had no idea what time it was. It didn’t matter.

It was too late.

“Mr. Forkle and Granite tried to check,” she whispered. “Since they’d both been in Gethen’s mind and knew how it felt. But neither of them could last longer than a few seconds. They said Prentice’s head felt like being thrown into a pit of boiling tar.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like that before,” Della said, appearing in the doorway.

“Neither have I.” And it made Sophie want to kick things.

She knew so little about her purpose—but one fact had been made perfectly clear: the Black Swan
designed
her to heal minds.

And yet, the one person who’d counted on that ability more than anyone else was lying on a cot in a small stone house, and she couldn’t do a single thing to help him.

“Prentice’s mind felt like the darkness had somehow taken over,” she whispered. “And what I don’t understand is, what changed? The last time I read his mind it was a cage of nightmares—but he was
there
. He gave me a vision of Jolie, and told me how to escape.”

“But you said he was drugged today, right?” Biana asked. “Maybe he was still sedated?”

“Drugs rarely have any effect on a broken mind,” Della said. The sadness in her voice made it clear she was reliving the days she’d spent holding down Alden’s thrashing body while Elwin struggled to keep him sedated.

“Unless . . .”

“Unless what?” Della and Biana both asked, making Sophie realize she’d spoken aloud.

“What if . . . Dame Alina did something?” she whispered. “We all saw him yesterday, and he wasn’t catatonic like this. Terik even called for backup because he needed someone to calm Prentice for transport.”

“But what could she have done?” Biana asked.

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted. “I know nothing about Beguilers.”

“Neither do I,” Biana said.

The bigger question Sophie had was:
Why?

Why would Dame Alina risk harming her own sanity by hurting Prentice?

“What’s wrong?” Biana asked her mom.

Della shook her head and wiped her eyes. “I’m just . . . glad Alden isn’t here to hear this.”

Biana covered her mouth. “You don’t think he’s going to . . .”

“No,” Della said, rushing over to hug her daughter. “Your father is strong, he won’t let this break him again.”

Biana’s eyes welled with tears anyway.

Sophie’s eyes burned as well. “If it helps,” she said, trying to convince them as much as herself, “the Collective thinks we just need to give Prentice time. He’s been surrounded by so much misery in Exile, he might’ve retreated to protect himself. So now that he’s free, we can surround him with happier things to draw him back out. Plus, Fitz and I haven’t tried working together as Cognates yet.”

“That’s true,” Della said, clearing thickness from her throat. “We all have to remember, Prentice has only been free for a few hours. We need to be patient.”

“I’m tired of being patient,” Biana said.

Sophie was too.

Della hugged them both. “It’s late,” she said. “We should all get some sleep so we’re ready for whatever the Black Swan needs tomorrow.”

Sophie tried to take Della’s advice. But her head was too full of questions. She stayed up reading, scouring the telepathy books the Black Swan had given her, hoping to find some clue that might explain what was happening.

“I feared I might find you like this,” Mr. Forkle said from her doorway.

Sophie jumped so hard she knocked the books off her lap.

“Any news?” she asked, sitting on her hands to stop from reaching for her eyelashes.

“No change—but we’re counting that as a good thing. At least he is not getting worse.”

He crossed her room and pulled open her drapes, staring out the window. It was brighter outside than Sophie had expected it to be.

“Caring for Prentice is going to be far more time consuming than we’d originally planned,” he said. “Especially since Calla and the other gnomes have yet to return. Do not let that trouble you,” he added quickly. “Calla warned us it would take several days for her search. But . . . the fact that the plague keeps spreading proves we should be doing more to investigate. We’ve been pinning so many hopes on Prentice that it’s made us shortsighted. So I brought your request to the Collective, and we’ve reached a decision.” He turned back to face her, and
she could see the worry in his eyes as he said, “We’ve agreed that the five of you should attend Exillium.”

Sophie nodded, her voice momentarily abandoning her.

“You’re right to be nervous,” he told her. “Exillium is on the front lines of this plague. And their program is far more rigorous than anything you’ve experienced. But we have no doubt that you and your friends can handle it. You’ve proven time and again that you are both resourceful and brave. Still, you will need to prepare. And we’ll have to wait until Mr. Vacker is fully recovered. You also must secure your cache in the void.”

“The void?” Sophie asked.

“It’s a confusing process,” Mr. Forkle admitted. “But I’ve brought a Conjurer to guide you through. She’s waiting for you in the main room.”

Sophie dressed quickly, expecting to find another elf in a crazy disguise.

Instead she found an achingly familiar figure in a simple blue gown waiting for her by the waterfall.

“Edaline?”

T
EARS STREAMED DOWN
Sophie’s cheeks as she tackled her mom with a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“I’m having a hard time believing it myself,” Edaline whispered. She glanced around the room, smiling at Della and Biana. “This definitely wasn’t what I’d been imagining for your hideout. It feels almost . . . homey.”

“It’s not as good as home,” Sophie promised.

Edaline traced her hands across Sophie’s back, and for a second it felt like they were back at Havenfield, everyone safe, nobody hurt or banished.