“Can I go too?” Sophie asked.
“I think it’s best that we not overwhelm him,” Granite said. “Plus, I fear that once he sees you, he’ll grow too fixated on the favor he requested.”
“What favor?” Stina and Maruca asked.
“That is classified,” Granite told them. “As is tomorrow’s meeting. No one can know that it’s happening, aside from your immediate families. And speaking of which”— he stalked closer to Stina— “in the future, I hope you’ll pay more respect to your father’s privacy. Overhearing something does not give you the right to repeat it to others.”
To her credit, Stina kept her head held high as she told him. “Maruca needed to know.”
“Then you should’ve informed your father and let him handle the matter through proper channels. We are an order, Miss Heks, and there are rules and protocols that must be followed.”
“Is that what you say to Sophie?” Stina snapped back.
“Miss Foster has received her fair share of lectures. She’s also a very special circumstance, so I would not make the mistake of putting you—or your father—in the same category. If we have reason to view your family as a security risk, we’ll have no choice but to release your father from his oath. Is that what you want?”
Stina tried for a careless shrug. But Sophie could see her tremble.
Granite must’ve noticed too, because he nodded, promising Maruca he’d see her the next morning, before he leaped away.
“You . . . have a very weird life,” Maruca told Sophie as she stared at the cloud of gravelly dust he’d left in his wake.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Sophie mumbled.
And things got even weirder after Maruca and Stina left. Fitz was just getting ready to head home when they heard another knock on the front door and found Councillor Oralie standing on the porch, dressed in full regal garb.
“Is this about Gethen?” Sophie asked.
Oralie smiled. “It’s nice to see you too.”
“Sorry,” Sophie said, realizing how rude she was being to a Councillor. She dipped one of her embarrassingly ungraceful curtsies. “How can I help you?”
“You can call for your parents,” Oralie told her as Sophie stepped aside to let her in. “We have much to arrange. And yes, it’s about Gethen.”
FIFTY
YOU GOT US a meeting?” Sophie asked, for what had to be the fifth time. But it was such a relief to hear it.
Oralie smiled as she smoothed her already perfect ringlets. “Yes. I’ve been given clearance to escort you and Mr. Forkle into the Lumenaria dungeons next week. I’m still waiting to find out the exact day, but it will most likely be Friday. And we’ll only have fifteen minutes with Gethen, so you’ll need to plan your time accordingly.”
“What about me?” Fitz asked.
Oralie took his hand. “I realize that you’re Cognates—and that you could be a valuable asset to the meeting. But the clearance is limited to Sophie, Mr. Forkle, and myself. No exceptions.”
“Aside from her bodyguard,” Sandor corrected.
“You’ll be able to escort her to the main gates of the fortress,” Oralie told him. “Lumenaria’s guards will take it from there.”
Sandor stalked closer. “Miss Foster was assigned to my charge.”
“Yes, I’m aware. In fact, I’m the one who recommended you for the assignment. But no one can enter the castle and view the security measures being put into place for the summit—even someone as well respected as you. As it is, Sophie and Mr. Forkle will be blindfolded during the walk to the dungeon.”
“Seriously?” Sophie asked. “Do you really think we’re going to tell someone about anything we see?”
“It has less to do with actuality and more to do with potential. The thing you must understand is that the leaders of every intelligent species will be present for the summit—and we don’t allow them to bring their own guards, lest any be spies or traitors. But that means we can’t use our regular bodyguards, either. A wholly new set of guards has been gathered, vetted, and trained specifically for the summit—after enduring a rigid approval process through the leaders of each world. We also guarantee that no one who isn’t a guard—or an attendee of the summit—will set so much as a toe inside the castle now that we’ve begun organizing our security, in order to ensure that no one has any opportunity to plan a raid.”
“Then how can you bring Sophie and Mr. Forkle to see Gethen?” Fitz asked.
“That’s why I needed to talk to you,” Oralie said, turning to where Grady and Edaline stood near the staircase, each covered in purple dinosaur feathers. “Sophie’s presence has been requested at the summit.”
Sophie felt her jaw fall open. Grady, Edaline, and Fitz did the same—and Sophie was pretty sure every goblin in the room sucked in a sharp breath.
“I know—I was just as surprised as all of you,” Oralie told them. “But Sophie’s unique role in many of our world’s most recent challenges has aroused a certain curiosity about her among the other leaders—King Enki of the dwarves and Queen Hylda of the goblins especially. And King Dimitar has asked that he be allowed to cross-examine her regarding the events in Ravagog.”
“All the more reason I should be there,” Sandor argued.
“I can assure you, Sophie will have an abundance of security,” Oralie promised. “And, because of her age, she’ll be escorted by a parent or guardian.”
“And you chose Mr. Forkle over us?” Grady asked.
“No, Mr. Forkle has been invited to represent the Black Swan. The order has made a name for itself in recent months, and the world leaders have requested to hear its thoughts on the negotiations as well. Miss Foster’s guardian will be Miss Ruewen, if she’s willing.”
“Me?” Edaline asked as Grady shook his head.
“My wife is an incredible force to be reckoned with—but of the two of us, I’m able to offer Sophie far better protection.”
“Possibly,” Oralie said. “But the leaders won’t tolerate a Mesmer in their presence. I’m sure you can understand their reasoning.”
“So you’re asking me to send my wife and daughter into fraught treaty negotiations?” Grady asked.
“Actually, I’m asking Sophie and Edaline if they’d be willing to participate in a world-changing event, which will have more security than anyone could ever imagine,” Oralie corrected. “And they will be the ones deciding if they will accept.”
Grady scowled but didn’t argue as he turned to Edaline. “You think this is crazy, right?”
“I do,” she said, nervously snapping her fingers and making a Panakes blossom appear and disappear in her palm. “But I don’t think I should be the one deciding. What do you think, Sophie?”
It felt like all of Sophie’s insides were crawling up her throat. But she managed to mumble, “I think we have to go.”
“Doesn’t this technically mean that Edaline could go with you to see Gethen, then?” Fitz asked, breaking the silence that followed.
“I suppose it does,” Oralie said. “But I wouldn’t recommend it. I visited Gethen yesterday as I arranged the meeting with his guards, and he’s far too eager to face Sophie again. Having anyone else she cares about in the room will only give him further ammunition.”
“Oh yeah, I’m feeling really good about this visit,” Grady grumbled.
“Same here,” Sandor snarled.
“I’ve had enough encounters with Mr. Forkle to feel confident that he can handle Gethen,” Oralie told both of them. “And I will provide any help I can.”
“I can also handle myself,” Sophie reminded everyone.
“No one is doubting your strength,” Oralie told her. “It’s what makes you Gethen’s target.”
“And Forkle’s really okay with all of this?” Grady asked.
“I’m sure he will be once I inform him,” Oralie said. “I have a meeting with him later this afternoon.”
“Wait—he doesn’t know?” Edaline asked. “How can that be?
”
Oralie stole a glance at Sophie.
Sophie sighed, realizing it was time to come clean. “I . . . went to see Oralie and asked her to set up the meeting with Gethen, because I was worried that the Black Swan were missing an important opportunity. And, um, I also told her about Wylie.”
The air shifted with the confession, taking on a charge that burned Sophie’s throat.
“When did you and Oralie have this little heart-to-heart?” Grady asked.
Sophie fussed with her Sucker Punch. “Right before you grounded me.”
Sandor’s squeaky growl made the hairs on her arms prickle.
“So that means you went with her,” Edaline said, turning to Fitz, who slunk back a couple of steps when Sandor growled again—along with Grizel. “Is that why you both had dirt in your hair?”
Sophie nodded. “Flori took us. And please don’t be mad at her—or Fitz. It was all my idea.”
Grady pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew going through the teenage years again was going to be tricky. But I never prepared for this.”
“This is me trying to stop the Neverseen from hurting people,” Sophie snapped. “It’s not like I’m sneaking around just for fun.”
“Well,” Oralie said, standing and removing a pink-wanded pathfinder from her cape. “Family debates aren’t really my area of expertise. But I do hope you won’t go too hard on Sophie. She was perfectly safe in my castle. And she was wise to come to me.”
Grady didn’t agree. As soon as Oralie left, he sent Fitz home to confess to Alden and sentenced Sophie to a week of Verdi pedicures. Which was why Sophie was elbow deep in T. rex toe jam when Mr. Forkle leaped into the pasture.
“I’m assuming you can guess why I’m here,” he said quietly.
Sophie wiped her hands on her tunic. “I know what you’re going to say—”
“I’m not sure you do.” He cleared his throat several times before he told her, “I came here to thank you.”
“You’re right. That wasn’t what I was expecting.”
Tiny smile lines crinkled around his eyes. “I’m not saying I want you kids regularly disobeying my advice or sneaking away without your bodyguards—and just because everything worked out this time doesn’t mean you should feel free to act on such whims whenever you feel them. But . . . in this case, you made the right decision.”
“That doesn’t get you out of pedicure duty!” Grady called from the next pasture over.
Mr. Forkle smiled. “And thus we have the cost of rebellion. Being right doesn’t spare the consequences of breaking rules. But I’m happy to know you’re ready to stand up for your convictions.”
He stayed a few minutes longer, giving her a long lecture on the need for them to create a clear plan for the meeting with Gethen.
“We have a week,” he told her. “And I’m counting on you to figure it out. You’re finally stepping into the role we imagined for you. Now let’s see what you can do.”
FIFTY-ONE
GET READY TO wish you could hug me, Keefe said as Sophie watched the first rays of dawn paint across the murky sky. Actually, I’m pretty sure this is good enough news that you’re going to want to kiss me—and I’m happy to accept an IOU, by the way.
Just tell me what you learned, Sophie ordered, too tired to joke around.
Keefe had skipped both their dinner and before-bed check-ins the night before, because there was another huge argument going on with the Neverseen. So she’d been up most of the night worrying—and failing to come up with a plan to rescue him.
Fine—but you should at least have to write an epic poem in my honor. Here—I’ll help you. “Ode to Keefe Sencen—that brave, lovable nut. He may not have teal eyes, but he has a really cute—”
KEEFE!
All right, fine. But I’m calling you Foster Grumpypants for the rest of this conversation. And brace yourself because I’m about to blow your mind. Are you ready for it?
I’ve been ready for the last five minutes.
You think you’re ready. But there’s no way you possibly can be.
JUST TELL ME.
Okay. Just don’t say I didn’t try to prepare you. Fintan gave me another cloak when he moved me to this new hideout. And by the way, it’s WAY nicer over here. I actually have my own room—and it doesn’t smell like rotting toenails!
If that’s the only news you have, I’m never talking to you again.
Wow, you ARE Foster Grumpypants. Sheesh. Everything okay?
Yeah, I’m fine. I just get nervous when you tell me the Neverseen are arguing. The last time Brant lost his temper, he killed Jolie.
Jolie’s name seemed to demand a moment of silence.
I’m being careful, he promised. And Brant’s actually not the one fighting. It’s all Ruy, making a big fuss about his punishment for letting Wylie get away. It’s been hard to get details. But Fintan’s definitely changing their roles for that big project, and Ruy thinks his new assignment is unnecessary and demeaning.
And I’m assuming you still don’t have any ideas about what the project is?
Sadly, no. Just like I haven’t gotten any more info about the ogres’ test, or King Dimitar’s meeting with Fintan, or Fintan’s cache, or any of the things I can’t get anyone to talk about—but before you get all Doom and Gloom, remember, I still have huge, kiss-worthy news!
If you start talking about cloaks or rotting toenails again . . .
But that’s how it started! Well, not the toenails—but whatever. Fintan made a big deal about how I needed to wear my new cloak the whole time I’m here, and I figured it had to do with the black disk you found. So last night I opened the bottom seam and yep—another disk, with a different piece of the symbol.
He shared his memory of the etching, and the pattern of dashes breaking up the line matched a ray on the opposite side of the Lodestar symbol.
Is that it? Sophie asked.
Of course not—what kind of amateur do you take me for? I also found where the symbol projects on the floor, just like Bangs Boy wanted. It wasn’t there when I first got here, but it popped up when Fintan was getting ready to leave. I’m guessing it’s their funky version of a Leapmaster, since the projection comes from a crystal sphere mounted to the ceiling. But I couldn’t figure out how it worked, and when Fintan caught me studying it, he said I’ll never be able to understand the symbol—or how to use it—without knowing the key. And THAT is the mind-blowingly awesome revelation.
It is?
Think about it—what needs a key besides a lock?
Um . . .
Wow, you really must be tired.
Yeah, thanks to you.
She tried to think of any phrases that used the word “key.” And then it clicked.
Is the symbol a map?
BOOM! Admit it, I just blew your mind.
He kinda had.
But a map of what? she asked, trying to picture all the circles and rays and dashes. Their hideouts?
That’s what I’m assuming.
His mind shifted to his memory of the symbol glowing across the dark stone floor. The ray that matched the disk in his new cloak had something extra in the end circle.
It has new runes, Sophie said.
Yep. And in case you can’t read them, it says Gwynaura.
Another star.
Right again, you little star-memorizing show-off.
She ignored his teasing, letting her mind sort through the star maps she’d memorized, hoping to spot anything that might make Gwynaura unique.
It wasn’t a particularly bright star. But it had a pure white glow, just like Alabestrine.
Do you think the map is based off a constellation they created? she asked.
It might be. But the stars could also just be guides. That’s what lodestars are, right? So maybe Gwynaura leads to the hideout I’m at. And Alabestrine leads to Paris. And each of the other hideouts has a star and a rune to guide you to them.
But I don’t understand how that actually works
, Sophie told him. Light needs a crystal to bend the path where we want to go. So it’s not like we can just bottle the starlight and magically end up at a Neverseen hideout.
I’m guessing that’s what Fintan meant about me needing the key. But remember, a gadget projects the symbol. So I’m hoping Dizznee’s Technopath brain will be able to put all the pieces together—especially since Fintan gave me one more clue to play with. He seems to want to see if I’m smart enough to figure this out, so he told me, “All you need to know is that the code is simple.”
FIFTY-TWO
THE CODE IS simple,” Dex mumbled, staring at Sophie’s memory log, where she’d projected everything Keefe had shown her. “What code?”
“No idea,” Sophie admitted. “Keefe was hoping you’d be able to figure that out.”
“Great.” Dex flopped back on her bed, repeating the clue over and over.
Fitz, Biana, and Dex—and their bodyguards—had met Sophie at Havenfield that morning to brainstorm, while Tam and Linh stayed in Alluveterre to see how Maruca’s visit with Wylie went.
“So there’s a symbol that’s also a map, projected by a gadget,” Dex said, “and we need a key that’s probably related to a code that’s simple.”
“Wow, my brain hurts just trying to follow that sentence,” Biana said, blinking in and out of sight as she paced across Sophie’s flowered carpet. “But, if Alvar can understand this, I’m sure we can too.”
“Yeah, but they probably gave Alvar the key,” Fitz reminded her as he slumped into Sophie’s desk chair and petted Iggy through the bars of his cage. “We’re stuck guessing. And don’t forget there are also runes and star names and black disks hidden in cloaks and—”
“Okay, so we need to work on this piece by piece,” Sophie decided, trying to massage away the headache she could feel forming. “Keefe seemed to think the gadget part was crucial, that’s why he wanted me to talk to Dex.”
She flipped to the page in her memory log where she’d recorded Keefe’s memory of the crystal sphere. “Notice anything that might help us?”