Neverseen Page 3

  “Probably,” Keefe agreed. “But first—what is that?” He pointed to the drippy ice cream a family was devouring. “Whatever it is, I want some!”

  “I think that’s gelato,” Sophie told him. “And forget it.”

  “Actually, I think it’s a good idea,” Fitz said.

  Keefe leaned closer to Sophie. “In case you were wondering—that is why he’s my best friend.”

  Sophie sighed. “Even if we had time, how would you pay for it?”

  Her friends were used to buying everything with their birth funds—a special account set up when they were born, with more money than they could ever use in a lifetime. But it was useless outside of the Lost Cities.

  “Won’t this stuff work?” Dex asked, pulling out a wad of crinkled, colored paper. “I had it left over from when we were in that other Forbidden City after we got kidnapped.”

  Paris and Florence did accept the same currency, but . . . “We don’t have time for gelato!” Sophie said.

  Keefe draped his arm around her shoulders. “Foster, Foster, Foster. Live a little.”

  “You know he’s going to keep pushing until he gets what he wants, right?” Biana asked.

  “Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiine,” Sophie mumbled. “Give me the money. I’ll be right back.”

  “We’re coming with you,” Dex said.

  “Uh-uh. I’m going to have to be visible to buy something. And together we’d be way too conspicuous.”

  “But we’re in costume!” Biana argued.

  “Yeah, but you guys will still stand out. I mean . . . look at you. You look like models.”

  “Wait, is Foster saying she thinks we’re hot?” Keefe asked.

  “I think she is.” And the huge grin dimpling Dex’s cheeks was practically beaming.

  Sophie wanted to deny it, but the truth was, elves were way prettier than humans. Even Dex with his messy strawberry blond hair was ten times cuter than any human boy his age.

  “I’m just saying you guys will draw a lot of attention,” Sophie said. “Especially since you don’t speak Italian.”

  She pointed to two portrait artists sitting in the shade of the Duomo, waving their hands as they talked. As a Polyglot, Sophie could tell they were discussing their favorite soccer teams. But the rest of her friends only spoke the elves’ Enlightened Language. Fitz knew a little English from his time searching for her, but that wouldn’t get him far in Italy.

  “Sophie’s right. The less we’re all seen, the better. But I’m going with her.” Fitz handed Keefe the obscurer and snatched some money from Dex. “No one wanders off alone.”

  “Fine.” Sophie was still mad at him, but they also needed to talk.

  “I can’t believe we’re wasting time on this,” she said as Fitz followed her through the crowds of tourists. It was so strange to see gray hair and wrinkles and glasses and canes after so much time around the ageless elves.

  “I get that we’re in danger,” Fitz said. “But that’s why I thought this was a good idea.” He scooted closer, lowering his voice as they passed a group of girls ogling him. “I mean . . . aren’t you worried about how everyone’s holding up? Biana seems really nervous, doesn’t she? And Keefe is barely keeping it together. I’m sure Dex has to be freaking out too. So if gelato makes them happy, don’t you think that’s worth it?”

  “I guess I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “But still, we’d have more time for things like gelato if you’d told me what the Black Swan’s instructions were before we left and let me work on solving the riddle.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to drive you crazy. I was worried you’d sneak away without us if I told you.”

  The thought had crossed her mind—several times . . .

  “I just want to keep everyone safe,” she mumbled.

  “I know. So do I. And yet we’re both making it worse. So why don’t we stop trying to do it all on our own and start acting like a team?”

  He held out his hand, and Sophie reluctantly shook it, feeling slightly gleeful when the ogling girls gasped.

  Her smile faded as she remembered the other subject they needed to cover. “So, um . . . if we’re really going to be a team, don’t you think you should tell me what you saw in my mind?”

  “I didn’t see as much as you’re probably thinking,” Fitz said carefully, “and I couldn’t understand it, anyway.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s hard to explain. I ended up in this crazy place Mr. Forkle called your emotional center. Now I get why Keefe’s always talking about how intense your emotions are. It was super overwhelming.”

  “And that was where you were when Mr. Forkle said, ‘Remember this place. You may need it’?”

  Fitz nodded. “He didn’t say why, though.”

  “Of course not.” That wasn’t how Mr. Forkle worked. He was the only member of the Black Swan she’d met in person, but she still knew nothing about him. Even his name was a fake human identity he’d created to disguise himself as her next-door neighbor.

  She wanted to ask Fitz more, but she’d spotted a small gelateria at the end of the alley.

  “Think we should ask the shopkeeper if she knows about the Path of the Privileged?” Fitz asked as they peeked through the windows.

  “I doubt she knows,” Sophie said. “But it’s worth a try.”

  Her mouth watered as they made their way inside and studied the shiny bins heaped with sculpted mounds of colorful gelato. Every flavor looked amazing, so Sophie took the shopkeeper’s advice and ordered five cups of the melone.

  “Okay, I don’t know what’s in this,” Fitz said as he took a heaping spoonful, “but it might be better than mallowmelt.”

  Sophie wasn’t sure anything could beat the gooey cookie-cake thing elves made—but the gelato did come pretty close.

  “Can you think of anywhere that could be called the Path of the Privileged?” Fitz asked the shopkeeper, his accent even crisper with the English words.

  When the Shopkeeper didn’t answer, Sophie repeated the question in Italian, adding, “It’s for a school assignment. Our teachers have us doing a scavenger hunt, and that’s one of the clues they gave us.”

  “I bet your teacher wants you to learn on your own, not let adults do your work for you,” the shopkeeper said, wagging her finger. “But since you at least spoke to me in my language, I will tell you that your teacher probably means the Vasari Corridor.”

  As soon as the woman said the name, a dozen different facts clicked in Sophie’s memory. The Vasari Corridor was a historic walkway the Medicis had built between their palaces, so they could move through the city without having to walk among their people.

  “Can you tell us how to get there?” Sophie asked, paying for their gelato as Fitz gathered the cups for Keefe, Dex, and Biana.

  “One of the entrances is across the Arno, near the grottos at the Palazzo Pitti,” the shopkeeper told her. “The other is at the Uffizi Gallery. But there’s no point walking to either. All landmarks are closed today because of the fire.”

  The sweet melon flavor turned sour on Sophie’s tongue. “What fire?”

  “Late last night, at the Palazzo Vecchio. It breaks my heart. All that precious history lost because of some selfish arsonist.”

  FOUR

  IT HAS TO be Brant,” Sophie whispered as she watched the firemen rush around the Piazza della Signoria.

  They’d ignored the shopkeeper’s warnings, using their obscurer to slip past the police blockades. The fire hadn’t killed anyone, and it had been extinguished before it spread to other buildings. But the famous Palazzo Vecchio’s stone walls were blackened and crumbling, and the clock tower was leaning more than the Tower of Pisa. The crowds behind them were crying, and Sophie understood their grief. She’d felt the same way the day she watched the elves’ capital city of Eternalia consumed by Everblaze.

  “That wasn’t the building we needed, was it?” Fitz asked as they jumped out of the way of two firemen. �
��I thought the entrance to the corridor was in some place with a weird name?”

  “The Uffizi,” Sophie agreed, pointing to the arched building next to the ruined palace. “But the police have closed all the landmarks, and an obscurer won’t fool sensors and alarms.”

  “Well, I don’t think we should stay here,” Fitz said. “The Neverseen could be watching.”

  “How do you know it’s them?” Dex asked. “Don’t humans have fires all the time?”

  “Can’t you smell it?” Sophie asked.

  Keefe sniffed the air. “It smells like burned sugar.”

  “Exactly. I should’ve recognized it earlier. That’s how the San Diego fires smelled. And Brant set those.” She glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to spot a figure in a hooded black cloak.

  “But how could it be him?” Dex asked. “He was super messed up when he fled to the ogres. He’d lost a hand and, like, most of his face.”

  Sophie shuddered, trying not to picture Brant’s bloody, blistered skin. He hadn’t been able to walk on his own—couldn’t even reach for his pathfinder. He’d forced her to get it for him as part of their deal to save her friends.

  “He survived Jolie’s fire,” she said, remembering Brant’s old scars.

  She hoped a few of them were left. He deserved to be reminded of the life he’d destroyed.

  “Or maybe the Black Swan set the fire themselves,” Dex suggested, “to hide from the Council or something.”

  “Do they have any Pyrokinetics?” Biana asked.

  “I hope not,” Sophie said. “But even if they do, why would they burn the place they instructed us to go?”

  “Because this place wasn’t part of their instructions,” Fitz reminded her. “This is the building next door.”

  “But it still makes it ten times harder for us to get to them,” Sophie said.

  “Uh, you guys are totally ignoring the much more important question,” Keefe interrupted. He pointed across the courtyard to a weathered marble statue. “Am I the only one who’s noticed that dude is naked?”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “That’s the David.”

  “I don’t care what his name is,” Keefe said. “I still don’t want to see his stuff.”

  “I’m with Keefe on this one,” Dex jumped in.

  “Me too,” Biana agreed, blushing bright pink.

  “Yeah, why isn’t he wearing clothes?” Fitz asked, looking anywhere but at the statue.

  “Because it’s art!” Sophie said. “Most of the old painters and sculptors did nudes. They were studying the human body or something, I don’t know—why are we talking about this?”

  “You’re right,” Fitz said. “We need a plan. Personally, I think we should keep following the Black Swan’s clues. Once we get into that corridor, I bet the rest of their instructions will make sense. We just need to figure out how to get past security and—”

  “I’m on it,” Dex said, heading toward the Uffizi.

  Fitz grabbed his arm. “We all have to walk together to stay in the range of the obscurer.”

  Dex muttered something about “power trips” as Fitz took the lead. They wove carefully around all the firemen and reporters, reaching the entrance of the museum without bumping anyone.

  Dex pressed his palms against the stone facade. “You were right about the crazy security, Sophie.”

  “Can you disable it?” Biana asked.

  “Only temporarily. How do we get to this corridor thing?”

  “On the upper floor, through a plain, unmarked door.” Sophie could see it perfectly in her mind, which felt strange, since she’d never been there.

  “Okay, I can buy us some time,” Dex said, “but I’m going to have to ruin the obscurer.”

  “Is that the only way?” Fitz asked.

  “No, I thought it’d be fun to make things extra hard and dangerous!”

  “Hey,” Sophie said, stepping between them, “no time for fighting.”

  Dex glowered at Fitz as he went back to work, twisting the obscurer apart and tinkering with the gears. He pulled out several cogs and springs and shoved them into his pocket before closing it back up. “Here, Wonderboy. Catch.”

  Fitz caught it with his mind.

  Telekinesis.

  It was an elvin skill Sophie rarely used, thanks to an epic splotching match where she’d accidentally flung Fitz into a wall. But Fitz clearly didn’t share her reservations. He spun the obscurer a few times, probably to annoy Dex, then dropped the gadget into his hand.

  “As soon as I open the door,” Dex told Fitz, “roll that in. Then we run. Everyone ready?”

  Dex didn’t bother waiting for a reply before he tapped his fingertips against the lock and the door clicked open. “Now!”

  Fitz bowled the obscurer into the museum and it streaked across the floor, blaring white noise and blinding everyone with a flash.

  “How are we supposed to see where we’re going?” Sophie asked as Dex pulled her into the museum.

  “We aren’t,” Dex said. “But no one can see us, either.”

  “Ow, I just hit my shoulder,” Biana cried.

  “Maybe it was on another naked statue,” Keefe suggested.

  “EWWW, WHAT IF IT WAS?!”

  “Will you two be quiet?” Fitz yelled. “Everyone follow my voice. I found the stairs.”

  They climbed to the second floor, where the light was slightly less blinding.

  “Which way?” Fitz asked.

  “I think we’re supposed to go west,” Sophie said. “Everyone look for a green room and a plain wooden doorway.”

  They walked by it at first, but Biana doubled back and called them over.

  Fitz rattled the locked doors until Dex pushed him aside. “Leave this to the experts.”

  Several agonizing seconds passed.

  “Any time now,” Fitz said.

  “Sorry, this lock makes no sense. Wait—got it!”

  They raced into the corridor, and Dex flicked on the lights before turning to latch the doors behind him.

  “Whoa, this place is huge,” Sophie whispered as they climbed the grand stairway. She’d been expecting a dark, cramped hall, but this really was the Path of the Privileged. The entrance ceiling was gilded and decorated with frescoes, and the walls were covered in priceless paintings.

  “Better hurry,” Dex said, running to catch up with them. “The tweaks I did to the lock won’t last. Plus, I can feel cameras, and it would waste too much time trying to deal with them. The obscurer flash might’ve fried their circuits, but it’s better to keep your head down. And let’s get cracking on that next clue.”

  “Wasn’t it the one with the blood?” Biana asked. “If it was, think it has anything to do with this?”

  They stopped in front of a cluster of portraits that looked like they’d been burned and pieced back together.

  “No. Those paintings were destroyed during a terrorist attack back in the 1990s,” Sophie whispered. “I can’t imagine the Black Swan would ever call that ‘blood turned precious.’ ”

  Biana shuddered. “Humans are so awful to each other.”

  “Uh, didn’t a Pyrokinetic elf just burn another building earlier today?” Keefe asked.

  “Are you saying elves are as bad as humans?” Biana asked.

  “I’m saying we’re not as different as we should be. Certain elves, especially.” The bitterness in his voice made it clear he meant his mom.

  “Come on, let’s keep moving,” Sophie said, then realized they were forgetting a clue. Before the “blood turned precious” they needed “eyes that watch eternal.”

  Could it mean the portraits staring at them?

  That didn’t feel right.

  Then she spotted a barred round window.

  “Is this the one we saw in your memory?” Fitz asked.

  “It’s hard to tell. The scene in my head was from the other side of the wall. But I just remembered that these windows were called Cosimo’s eyes. They were his way of keeping watch
as he walked through the city. That’s the next clue.”

  “Great, so now the blood part is next?” Biana asked with a grimace.

  “Actually, I think I know what that means—and it’s not as bad as you’re thinking.”

  Sophie confirmed it a few minutes later when they reached a row of wide panorama-size windows. “Yep, we’re on the Ponte Vecchio now. There are a bunch of gold shops lining the bridge underneath us, but they used to be butchers. The Medicis didn’t like the smell, so they moved the gold merchants here.”

  Biana gagged. “I still can’t believe humans eat animals. Did you do that, Sophie?”

  “Hey—check out that view,” Keefe said, saving Sophie from having to answer. “I’ll give humans this, they make their own kind of beauty. Even if that river looks pretty brown.”

  The Arno River definitely wasn’t an inviting color, but it was lined on each side by pastel buildings, many with terraces and window boxes, like a scene from a painting. But the panoramic view also reminded Sophie of another less-than-awesome human fact. The windows they were looking through had been added for Adolf Hitler. He’d probably stood right where they were.

  “Let’s go,” Sophie said, needing to get away from the evil in the air.

  The elves might have done some terrible things over time—but she doubted they could ever match human monsters like Hitler.

  “We must be getting close to the next clue,” she said, trying to stay focused. “Anyone see a tower? I’m guessing it’s part of the corridor somehow.”

  “What do you think they mean about it not yielding?” Fitz asked as the corridor made a sharp turn.

  Then another.

  And another.

  Sophie stopped. “I think we’re here. Vasari tore down pretty much anything in his way when he built this corridor. But there was a family named the Mannellis who refused to let their building be knocked down. So Vasari detoured the corridor around it, and I think that’s what we just did.”

  Keefe smirked. “Look who knows all the things.”

  Sophie looked away. Having to wonder if her memories were hers made her wish she could scrub her brain.

  “The clue said this is where we’d find the next steps in our journey,” Fitz said. “Everyone spread out and look for the sign of the swan.”