Neverseen (26 page)

S
IR ASTIN,” SOPHIE
repeated. “As in . . . my Level Two Universe Mentor.”

“That would be me, yes.”

She tried to picture Mr. Forkle looking young and pale with long blond hair, but her brain refused to cooperate.

His new whispery voice did sound awfully familiar, though . . .

“How else do you think you got assigned the list of stars to find Elementine?” he asked.

The room tilted sideways—or maybe that was Sophie.

She needed to sit.

That Universe assignment had changed
everything
. She went from being the slightly weird “human girl” to Project Moonlark. She’d also had to face a Tribunal, and the Council
had ordered her to keep a memory log, and she’d had to be descryed by Councillor Terik and . . .

“Wait—Sir Astin testified at the Tribunal that the lists for that assignment were given at random,” she argued.

“Of course I did! I couldn’t exactly say, ‘I’m with the Black Swan and this was part of our plan!’ This is what I mean, Miss Foster. Disguises require lies. I had to be so careful of every word I spoke to you, every gesture I made, to be sure I didn’t remind you of this.” He waved his arms around his Mr. Forkle-shaped self. “You’d just spent so many years seeing me every day, I knew the slightest cue might trigger a connection. And up until that Universe assignment your mind had been so sweetly unsuspicious. I was there simply to build your confidence as you struggled to adjust to life at Foxfire. Wasn’t my session one of the few you didn’t worry over?”

It definitely had been.

“But . . . Sir Astin was
surprised
when I showed him the bottle of Quintessence.”

“Well, yes, because
I never thought you’d bring it to Foxfire
! Or carry it around in your satchel, letting it get shaken and jostled all day! It’s amazing you didn’t blow the school to pieces. That was when I learned to never make assumptions about what you’ll do. I’d foolishly figured you’d run straight to Alden. Just like I’d figured Mr. Dizznee would have you two wearing protective gloves—proper starlight bottling procedure. Instead you burned your hands and called for Elwin, and then you
showed up to your session and plopped the bottle on the table. Of course I panicked! I knew I’d have to make a report to Dame Alina, and you’d face a Tribunal, and all kinds of other consequences we could’ve avoided if you’d gone to Alden.”

“Oh.” Sophie stared at her hands, remembering the burns. “So . . . you really were Sir Astin?”

“I still
am
Sir Astin. Mind you, he’s taking some time away from Foxfire now that you’re a Level Three. But as far as our world is concerned, Sir Astin is off mapping stars.”

Sophie wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or laugh. All the time she’d spent wondering about him, and he’d been right there, teaching her for two hours a week.

“So . . . should I call you Sir Astin now?” she asked.

“I’d prefer you didn’t. It’s easier to compartmentalize my life. When I’m here, I’m Mr. Forkle. Though you are welcome to tell the others.”

“Oh, I will.” Even if part of her still struggled to believe it.

She kept replaying her Universe sessions, searching for any clue that might have given him away. But there were none. He’d played his role perfectly.

“Are you satisfied now?” Mr. Forkle asked.

“Satisfied” wasn’t the right word.

It all felt a little anticlimactic. She’d asked. He’d answered. He hadn’t even taken one of those callowberries and morphed into Sir Astin. And she couldn’t think of any of the “slips” he’d mentioned earlier.

“Is that your only identity?” she asked. “Or are there others?”

“Sir Astin is the only one I’m willing to share.”

“How many are there?”

He sighed. “One for my actual life. Another for a role I’ve taken on. Another for the fertility doctor I played to your human parents. I couldn’t be their doctor
and
their next-door neighbor, after all—but I’m assuming you already guessed that.”

She nodded, even though she hadn’t really thought about it.

Yet another layer of weirdness to her life.

“And that’s all I’ll say for now,” Mr. Forkle said firmly. “Can you accept that?”

Sophie studied his eyes, still not seeing Sir Astin staring back at her. “You’re not Alden, right?”

Mr. Forkle laughed. “Even with every elixir ever made, I could never be that handsome.”

He had a point.

“What about Tiergan?” Her telepathy mentor had always been a mystery. And he’d been close with Prentice.

“You can stop guessing. Even if you get it right, I’m not going to tell you.”

“So that’s a yes, then?” she pressed, not sure what she’d do if it were true.

“I’m not Tiergan. And
that
is the last thing I’m going to tell you.”

“No, you have to at least tell me if I’ve met the other yous.”

“I most certainly do not. We’ve talked enough about me. It’s time for you to share. Can I see Kenric’s cache?”

Sophie’s palms turned sweaty as she handed him the marble.

“I can’t believe you’re carrying it in your pocket,” he said.

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“That’s what we must figure out.” He held it up to the light. “Oralie was very brave to give this to you.”

Sophie swallowed a lump of guilt. “What do you think her punishment is going to be?”

“It’s impossible to know. She’s crossed a line that has never been crossed. But she knew that when she gave this to you, so I’m sure she’s prepared. Oralie is far cleverer than you know. It’s easy to underestimate the quiet beauties.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Keefe said, striding into the room.

“You are many things, Mr. Sencen, but
quiet
is not one of them.”

“So you’re saying I’m a beauty?”

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.”

P
HYSIC’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 mind in the past.

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.”