Neverseen (11 page)

“Is that your family?” a soft voice asked, and Sophie dropped the Spyball.

It rolled across the floor, stopping at Calla’s feet.

“Sorry,” the tiny gnome said, retrieving the Spyball and frowning at the images. “Everything looks so gray in their world.”

“Humans don’t have a lot of green in their cities,” Sophie agreed.

“Such a pity.” Calla handed back the gadget. “Plants are the best for soothing. In fact”—she hummed a song under her breath, and the vine growing over Sophie’s canopied bed bloomed with deep purple flowers—“I know you struggle with nightmares,” she told Sophie, “so I planted these reveriebells to give you sweet dreams. The secret is in their scent.”

Sophie closed her eyes and inhaled. The smell reminded her of gardenias, with a hint of vanilla, and something spicier too. Maybe ginger?

She could feel it settle into her muscles, making her shoulders relax.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It is my honor.” Calla wove a loose strand of the vine carefully in with the others. “I must confess, it feels very strange to talk to you, after all these years.”

“Years?” Sophie repeated.

Calla smiled her green-toothed smile. “I know this might be hard to believe, but I’ve been part of Project Moonlark since the beginning.”

Y
OU WERE PART
of project Moonlark?” Sophie repeated, needing to hear it one more time.

Calla nodded. “I was the one who chose the project’s name.”

Moonlarks were incredibly rare because they didn’t nest with their eggs like other birds. They laid them in the ocean and let them drift at sea, so that only the strongest made it to shore. Once they hatched, the babies had to survive alone. It was a fitting metaphor, though Sophie wished it didn’t imply so much struggle.

“I know it must sound strange,” Calla said, “a gnome helping with elvin genetics. But much of the project reminded me of
cross-pollinating. Like these reveriebells. I blended dreamlillies, sweetshades, and aethrials, keeping the best traits of each.”

“So . . . you helped tweak my genes,” Sophie clarified, hoping Calla wasn’t about to tell her she was part plant. It was hard enough knowing her genes had been modeled off alicorn DNA. She didn’t need to be the horse girl
and
the tree girl.

“ ‘Helped’ is the wrong word. I was there to keep the Black Swan grounded, and ensure they never strayed from what was natural, or lost sight of the fact that they were sparking the life of an innocent girl.”

“Does that mean you know what they’re planning for me?” Sophie asked.

“ ‘Plan’ is
also
the wrong word. I know their hopes—mostly because I share them.” She turned away, humming under her breath and making more reveriebells blossom. “Did you like the pin I gave you?”

It took Sophie a second to realize Calla meant her Prattles’ pin.

She reached for her allergy remedy necklace, where the silver bird was still pinned through the cord. “How did you know the box would have the moonlark?”

“I have a friend who helps at the Prattles’ bakery, and I’d heard that a baby moonlark hatched recently. I asked her to save me the box with the new pin. I wanted to show you that elves aren’t the only ones who believe in you.”

“Why?” Sophie had to ask. “I mean . . . I’m just one girl.”

“All it takes is one to stand where others fall. Think of the way you defied the ogre king. No one on the Council was willing to take such a risk.”

“But . . . wasn’t that a bad thing?” Sophie needed a deep breath before she could mumble her next sentence. “It sounds like the attack at the Wildwood Colony happened right after I read King Dimitar’s mind—”

“Are you blaming yourself for the plague?” Calla interrupted.

“It seems like they must be connected—assuming the ogres are responsible.”

“Oh, they’re responsible,” Calla said darkly. “And someday we’ll finally be able to prove it. But that doesn’t mean you should put the blame on yourself.” She took Sophie’s hands, and her green thumbs felt warm and smooth, like stones heated by the sun. “You are a sprout, fighting to take root among the rocks of our world. It’s going to cause a few cracks, but that is the only way for you to grow strong.”

Sophie tried to feel the comfort Calla wanted her to feel. But all she found were more reasons to worry. “How bad is the plague?”

“I wish I knew. It’s been very hard to get information.”

“Mr. Forkle said the same thing. Why would the Council keep it secret?”

Calla released her hands, turning back to her blossoms. “I’m sure they’re trying to spare us unnecessary panic. Hopefully Gora and Yuri will return with a happy report soon.”

“They’re the gnomes you mentioned earlier, who had family in the Wildwood Colony?”

Calla nodded. “Yuri’s sister lived there, along with her husband and two daughters.”

“Daughters,” Sophie repeated. “So . . . they’re kids?”

“Not as young as you,” Calla said. “Though they are still far too young . . .”

. . . to die,
Sophie’s mind finished.

“The physicians should be able to find the cure, though, right?” she asked.

Calla smiled. “That is the plan.”

Sophie tried to think of something else to say. All she could find was half a sentence.

“If there’s anything I can do . . .”

“There may very well be,” Calla said. “That’s why you’re the Moonlark.”

She curtsied and turned to leave, then whipped back around. “Look at me, forgetting the reason I came here!”

She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a fist-size black cube. “This is the package you were promised, to swear fealty to the Black Swan. There’s a sensor on the top that will respond to your DNA. Only when you truly mean your oath will the latch open.”

“How can it tell?”

“That’s one of the Black Swan’s mysteries. But you are their heir. Your spot is reserved. All you have to do is accept it.”

She curtsied again, leaving Sophie alone with the tiny black box that suddenly felt very heavy. In her mind she could hear hundreds of unanswered questions mixed with all her doubts and worries and insecurities.

She could also hear Mr. Forkle telling her she had a choice.

Hands trembling and stomach fluttering, she raised the box to her lips and gave the sensor the tiniest of licks.

As soon as her DNA registered, the cube flashed with white light. Words appeared through the glow, a single sentence written in frills and loops. The oath was far simpler than Sophie had imagined. But the words felt true. A promise she could stand behind. Believe in. Uphold.

I will do everything in my power to help my world.

Sophie closed her eyes, drawing the words from her heart as she whispered the oath.

The last word had barely left her lips when a latch on the box snapped open. Inside she found a pendant made of curved black metal, shaped like the sign of the swan. Set into the center was a magnifying glass.

Sophie assumed the tiny piece of paper enclosed with it would explain what the pendant meant. Instead it said—in Mr. Forkle’s familiar writing:

Glad you made the right choice.

H
OW MANY TIMES
did you have to say the oath before your cube opened?” Biana asked, fiddling with her Black Swan pendant as she followed Sophie and Della down to breakfast.

“I think it was my fourth,” Della said, lifting the hem of her long black-and-white gown to descend the stairs.

Surprisingly, Biana had worn pants—though the tunic she’d paired with them was embroidered with butterflies, and she had jeweled butterflies pinned in her hair. Somehow Biana made it all seem effortless—even her matching lip gloss. “I got it on my third try,” she told Sophie. “What about you?”

Sophie looked away. “My first.”

“I guess I should’ve figured that,” Biana said through a sigh. She held her pendant up like a monocle. “Do you have any idea what these do? All my note said was ‘to show you the world in new ways.’ ”

“Mine said, ‘For when you need to look closer,’ ” Della added.

They glanced at Sophie.

“Mine said they were glad I made the right choice.”

“Huh,” Biana said. “It must be weird to be you.”

Talk about an understatement.

All the things Calla had told Sophie were still buzzing around her mind—especially the part about Calla being involved with Project Moonlark.

For some reason she’d imagined the project only included Mr. Forkle, sitting alone in a lab with a microscope and some Petri dishes. But now she could picture a whole team—multiple people and species brainstorming and planning, resting their hopes on her to be their Moonlark. And what if—

All thoughts dropped away when they reached the gazebo.

“Your hair!” Della gasped, rushing to where Fitz sat at the table. His usual dark waves had been dyed green, and they stuck out in every direction.

“
Someone
slipped an elixir into my shampoo this morning,” Fitz said, patting the spikes and eyeing Dex. “But it’s cool. I kind of like it.”

Dex snorted. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Actually, it’s not that bad,” Biana said.

“Yeah, Fitz can pull off anything.” Sophie blushed as she considered the implication of her words.

Keefe groaned. “I knew we should’ve gone with the balding elixir. Next time!”

“Uh-uh,” Della told him. “You need to fix this—now. Do you really want the Black Swan to see what you’ve done?”

Keefe shrugged and grabbed a pastry from one of the platters in the center of the table. “They’re walking around crusted with ice and turning their bodies to stone. Cactus head is nothing.”

“Okay, lets try this a different way,” Della decided. “If you get to makeover my son, then I get to makeover both of you.”

“Works for me,” Keefe said. “I look awesome in everything.”

“Tell that to your feet when they spend the rest of the week balancing in my tallest heels,” Della told him.

“Okay . . . forget that.” Dex reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny brown vial. “This will get rid of the green.”

“Thank you.” Della rumpled Dex’s hair as he gave the vial to Fitz.

Fitz downed it in one gulp, gagging at the taste.

“No more pranks,” Della said, wagging a finger at all three boys.

“Or—what if Fitz
looks
normal, but doesn’t smell very good?” Keefe asked.

Biana giggled.

Della sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Keefe?”

“I hear the Lord of the Universe title is up for grabs. Unless Foster’s trying to snatch it.”

“All yours.” Sophie had enough responsibility already.

“So you guys didn’t have any problems with the oath?” Biana asked.

“Nope! Got it on my third try,” Dex said proudly.

“Me too!” Biana said.

“Ha—beat you both,” Fitz told them. “Only took me
two
.”

“Don’t get so smug. I’m sure Foster nailed it the first try.” Keefe laughed when she blushed. “I knew it.”

“How many tries did it take you?” Biana asked him.

Keefe looked away.

“So what did everyone’s notes say?” Sophie asked, saving him from having to answer.

“Mine said ‘Because seeing is believing,’ ” Dex said.

“Huh, I didn’t realize they were different.” Fitz smoothed his back-to-normal hair. “Mine said ‘The smallest things can be the most dangerous.’ ”

Everyone looked at Keefe.

“Do not lose your way.”

Biana repeated the other notes and studied her pendant. “I still don’t get what they do.”

“Typical Black Swan,” Fitz said.

“Seriously,” Dex agreed. “Don’t they realize riddles are a huge waste of time?”

“Are they?” Granite asked, crossing the bridge to reach the gazebo. His face looked like clay soil that had cracked in the sun. “And here I thought we were training your minds to think critically and solve problems.”

“There are no easy answers in this world,” Wraith added, his silver cloak appearing beside Granite.

Biana moved closer to study him. “How do you partially vanish like that?”

“Work hard enough and I’ll teach you,” he said. “But today we’ll be perfecting the basics. Rescuing Prentice will require a level of precision you currently do not have, so prepare yourself for a long, exhausting day.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll be initiating your Cognate Training,” Granite told Sophie and Fitz. “Today will be the test to see if Cognatedom is truly a possibility.”

Sophie’s stomach dropped into her toes, and she was very glad she hadn’t eaten any of the pastries yet.

“What about us?” Keefe asked, pointing to himself and Dex.

“You both have study materials in your rooms,” Granite said.

“You’re seriously telling us to go read?” Keefe asked.

Sophie leaned close to whisper, “It’s only one day.”

“A lot can happen in a day, Foster. You know that better than anyone.”

“It’s cool,” Dex jumped in. “I have a project we can both work on.”

The way he said “project” made Sophie wonder what prank he was planning. She hoped it’d be worth it, since she was sure Della would make good on her threat of high heels. But she was glad to see Dex once again keeping Keefe from getting too frustrated.

Part of her wished she could go with them as they crossed the bridge and headed up the stairs. Instead, she followed Fitz and Granite down to the river, trying to convince herself Cognate training wouldn’t be as scary as it sounded.

“Mr. Forkle and I
spent last night preparing these,” Granite said, handing Sophie and Fitz each a black notebook labeled
Cognate Lessons.
“But as we developed the exercises, we realized we were skipping a crucial step.”

The three of them sat in the shade of a tree with purple leaves, watching the glassy river rush past. Across the water, Della and Biana were practicing with Wraith, pacing back and forth while vanishing. Biana could only walk half the distance of the others before she’d reappear.

“The Cognate relationship requires both trust and
balance
,” Granite said, reminding Sophie she should be paying attention, “and it’s impossible to work on the former without
the latter. In your case, Fitz—while you’re an incredibly talented Telepath—your skills simply do not match Sophie’s.”