Neverseen (36 page)

N
OW SOPHIE KNEW
what the ancient gnomish songs had meant by their warnings of a great Withering and an endless Fall.

The Exillium tents had been set up along the edge of a sheer cliff, overlooking a blackened, shriveled woodland. The tree trunks were twisted and cracked, their branches sagging and drooping, and their speckled leaves blanketed the ground in heaps of mold green and sallow yellow.

“Where are we?” Sophie whispered.

“It doesn’t matter,” her purple Coach said behind her.

The five friends turned to find all three Coaches looming
over them. Waywards milled nearby, pretending they weren’t eavesdropping.

“How can you say that?” Biana asked the Coaches. “Don’t you know what’s happening down there?”

“We don’t,” the red Coach said, “and we aren’t supposed to.”

“That’s not
our
world,” the blue Coach added. “It’s simply scenery.”

“So you don’t care that—” Sophie started.

“We don’t,” the blue Coach interrupted.

“We
can’t
,” the purple Coach clarified. “We know our place, and the role we’re expected to play. The five of you need to learn yours.”

“You’re no longer part of a community,” the red Coach added. “You’re fighting for survival and redemption.”

“But how is it redeeming to only care about ourselves?” Sophie asked.

The silence that followed felt like it was breathing down their necks, probably because the whole school was watching.

The Coaches’ eventual reply was to order everyone to their Hemispheres.

Sophie kept her head down as she ran to her purple Ambi tent and sat near one of the tent poles. A shadow passed over her, and she looked up to find the Shade and the Hydrokinetic standing beside her.

The Shade’s whispery voice filled her head. “You’ll get in
huge trouble if you keep talking to the Coaches like that.”

Probably,
Sophie transmitted.
But someone needs to tell them they’re wrong.

The way he tilted his head made her wonder if he was smiling. It was impossible to tell between the mask and the hood.

“This place is called Bosk Gorge,” he whispered, “and it’s not the worst we’ve seen of the desolation.”

Where was the worst?

“Wildwood. There’s pretty much nothing left.”

Before Sophie could reply, the purple Coach stormed into the tent and clapped her hands.

“Everyone rise!” she ordered.

Sophie moved to stand, then realized the Coach meant a different kind of “rise.”

The rest of the Waywards floated off the ground as the Coach announced they’d be practicing levitation-in-motion.

“Choose any movement you’d like,” the Coach said. “But you must keep moving. Every time you fall, you prove yourself Unworthy.”

Sophie could’ve sworn the Coach looked at her as she said the last part, and it made her determined to stay airborne. She closed her eyes, pushed against gravity, and floated her body off the ground. But she couldn’t figure out how to move like the other Waywards. Motion required resistance—something to bounce off and create thrust. So when she tried to “walk,”
her legs only flailed, and the longer she hovered there, the heavier her body felt.

How you holding up?
Fitz transmitted as she collapsed for a break.

I don’t understand how they’re all doing this,
she grumbled.

Neither do I. I’ve dropped twice already, and Biana’s hit the ground three times. My Coach says we’re not motivated enough.

You’re lucky you guys are together. I’m the only one struggling in my group.

She forced herself to levitate again, and tried flapping her arms, which mostly made her look like a giant chicken. She felt even more ridiculous when she stole another look at the plague-infested forest.

I can’t believe we’re wasting time on this when we could be down there investigating.

Maybe it’s better,
Fitz said.
We wouldn’t want to accidently infect Calla.

Sophie definitely didn’t want that—but it still felt like they were missing an opportunity. They could be learning things that might help the gnomes, and instead she was trying to air-swim.

“You’re focusing your efforts too narrowly,” her Coach said as Sophie dropped on her belly so hard it knocked the wind out of her. “Gravity isn’t the only force you have to work with.”

A gong announced their break before Sophie figured out what that meant.

She stumbled to the eating area, where all the Waywards
were lining up for lunch. The food itself was simple—baskets of whole fruit for them to choose from—and Sophie noticed everyone only took
one
piece. They also sat separately, on threadbare blankets the same color as their Hemisphere. The only sounds were the wind and the awkward crunch of chewing.

She’d chosen a pear-shaped fruit with a smooth teal skin. It looked too pretty to eat, and Sophie wished she’d gone with that instinct. It tasted like juicy cheese, and each bite felt greasier than the last. The Shade and the Hydrokinetic sat across from her, sharing a purple spiky fruit between them. Sophie wondered if that meant they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

“You should be more careful about your telepathic conversations,” the Shade’s voice whispered inside her head.

One of these times you’re going to give me a heart attack,
Sophie transmitted.
How do you talk like that?

His shadow stretched farther over hers. “It’s called shadow-whispering. My shadow is carrying my consciousness, so no one can hear me except you—but I still only do it when no one’s looking. You need to take the same precaution. If the Coach catches you, they’ll punish everyone. They want us to hate each other. It’s how they keep control. They know there are only three of them and hundreds of us. If we unite, we could take them out easily.”

Or they could try getting us to like them,
Sophie suggested.
Fear isn’t the only way to control people.

“No, but it’s the quickest. I would know.”

The darkness in his tone was almost as unsettling as watching his shadow crawl back to its proper angle. Sophie could definitely see why Fitz would find Shades creepy. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that this one was worth knowing.

The gong rang again, ordering them back to their tents, and the stronger afternoon gales made the exercise even more challenging. Waywards were tossed around the tents, crashing into the poles and each other. Sophie tried to use the wind’s momentum to finally get herself moving, but the wind seemed to be a force she couldn’t manipulate.

She stretched out her mind, feeling for other forces to play with, and instead picked up a feint sound. It came from the withered woods, and after a minute of concentrating she realized it was a voice.

A word.

The same word over and over, growing more chilling every time.

Help.

S
OPHIE RACED TOWARD
the cliff and jumped, planning to teleport into the woods to find whoever needed help.

But as the forces whipped around her, she realized that levitating would be easier. She could feel a strange rush of resistance in the air now that she felt the thrill of falling. And when she focused on that energy, she finally had the thrust she needed to propel herself forward. A little additional concentration and she was sprinting so fast it made her eyes water.

“Where are you going?” Fitz asked, racing up beside her—and triggering a panicked plummet.

“Sorry,” he said as she fought to regain her concentration.
“Didn’t mean to scare you. When I saw you jump, I jumped. Biana tried to come too, but our Coach grabbed her. What’s wrong?”

“Someone needs help. I can hear them calling me, but I don’t know where they are. I’m trying to track them now.”

She closed her eyes, but all she could hear were the angry voices shouting from the cliff above. Sophie was pretty sure they were setting a record for Exillium disobedience.

Fitz grabbed her hand so they could keep pace together. “How can I help?”

“Can you boost my concentration? It might clear my head.”

“Done,” he said as warmth trickled into her mind.

The extra energy snapped everything into focus. “He’s that way,” she said, pivoting in midair and running toward the densest part of the woods.

They sank lower as they moved, until their feet were skirting the tops of the withered trees.

“Down there,” she whispered, pointing to a small clearing.

The speckled leaves made a sickening squish as they touched down.

“He’s here somewhere—I can feel it,” she said as they combed the ground, kicking up the fallen leaves.

Several agonizing minutes passed before Fitz shouted, “I found him!”

Sophie raced to his side, feeling her stomach lurch when
she saw the body lying in the shadow of the tallest, most shriveled tree.

The frail gnome’s eyes stared blankly ahead, and his skin was covered head to toe in the same speckles as the leaves.

“What do we do?” Fitz asked, shaking the gnome gently by the shoulders. “He’s breathing—but only barely.”

Sophie’s brain felt like it was trying to run in sixteen directions at once.

She took a breath. “Okay, we need to get him to the physician. Maybe he has some medicine that would make the gnome stronger. And then we’ll have to figure out how to get him to the quarantine in Lumenaria.”

“So back up the cliff?” Fitz asked.

“Yeah, is your levitating strong enough for that?”

“No idea.” Fitz scooped up the unconscious gnome. “When I jumped I just focused on your mind and followed your lead, like our Cognate training.”

“Well . . . I guess we should do the same thing again, then.”

Her panic fueled her push as she shoved against the forces in the air and launched straight up, with Fitz keeping pace beside her. The shouting grew to a deafening roar as they landed on the cliff’s ledge and faced the gathered crowd.

“We need the physician,” Sophie said, running toward the small tent.

The purple Coach blocked her. “You’re exposing us all.”

“The plague only affects gnomes and plants,” Sophie said, but she noticed the other Waywards were still scrambling away from her. “Please, this gnome needs help—it’s not going to hurt anyone.”

“Stay right there,” the physician called, shoving his way through the cluster of onlookers with the help of the red Coach. He helped Fitz set the gnome on the ground and checked the gnome’s pulse. “I’m not familiar with gnomish medicine. Even if I had a full apothecary, I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Then we need to get him to Lumenaria—quickly,” Sophie told Fitz.

“That’s impossible,” the red Coach called from the front line of Waywards. “All of us are banished from the Lost Cities.”

“Who cares?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah, do you seriously think the Council will arrest us for delivering a sick gnome?” Fitz added.

Councillor Alina probably would, but Sophie decided not to mention that.

“Even if the Council would spare you,” the blue Coach said. “You’re forgetting that none of us have crystals to leap you there.”

“We don’t need a crystal,” Sophie told him.

And she was tired of wasting time.

She turned to Fitz, glad to see he was already ahead of her.

He lifted the gnome over his shoulder and carried him to the cliff’s edge.

“Lumenaria’s on the other side of the world,” the purple Coach told them. “You can’t levitate there.”

“No,” Sophie said, reaching for Fitz’s hand. “But we can teleport.”

They jumped without another word, holding tight to each other as thunder crashed and they slipped into the void.

Sophie started to envision Lumenaria, but all she could picture was the burly goblin guards, blocking the city’s gates with their deadly swords.

“Do you think the Council will have us arrested?” Sophie whispered.

“I don’t know,” Fitz admitted. “I want to say no—especially since we still have the cache. But last time we were around them it didn’t go so well.”

His hand moved to his chest, rubbing where the arthropleura barb had pierced him.

Sophie decided it wasn’t worth the risk.

She’d also realized there was a safer place they could take the gnome, where he could get medical treatment, and they could count on a few allies.

“Change of plans,” she said, then pictured their destination so vividly that white light cracked the darkness.

They launched out of the void and Sophie focused on the
force of their fall, using her newfound levitating skills to make her first gentle landing.

Their feet touched down on the soft purple grass outside the glass pyramid in the center of the Foxfire campus.

S
OPHIE HAD NEVER
thought she could feel more conspicuous than she had on her first day at Foxfire, when Dame Alina had literally shined a spotlight on her to introduce her to the other prodigies.

But as she and Fitz clomped through the glittering main building in their crazy Exillium uniforms, she felt like they might as well be carrying a sign that said WE DON’T BELONG HERE!

Instead, they were carrying a very sick gnome, so she was glad it seemed to be the middle of session. The colorful halls were vacant, and Sophie was
very
familiar with the path to the Healing Center. They rushed through the doors in record time.

Sophie called for Elwin as she surveyed the three rooms—a treatment area, a working laboratory, and the physician’s office.

All three were empty.

“Now what?” Fitz asked, setting the gnome on one of the beds in the treatment area.

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted. She’d never considered that Elwin might not be there. “I guess we could leave him here and go find Magnate Leto.”

But then she imagined the gnome waking up all alone, not knowing where he was or what had happened to him.

“Should one of us stay here?” she asked.

The slamming of the Healing Center’s doors saved them from making a decision.