Slurps and Burps was the Lost Cities’ most popular apothecary. Sophie could understand how a covert group would find their serums handy, since many could alter appearances. But it was strange to think she might’ve passed the real Mr. Forkle shopping in the cluttered aisles.
And if the Black Swan hid among them, surely the Neverseen did as well. Sophie wondered if she’d seen the rebels in the streets of Atlantis, or if their kids went to school with her at Foxfire. She ran through a mental list of possible suspects—the primary being her longtime rival, Stina Heks—as Biana said, “So basically, you’re all two different people?”
“Or three,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “Perhaps even four or five. And yes, that can be rather challenging.” He lifted his double chin, revealing a registry pendant hidden underneath. “A clever Technopath rigged this to communicate where I want the Council to think I am. But it only covers blocks of time.”
“Should I have done that to our pendants?” Dex asked.
“No, you five have already drawn the Council’s suspicion. Better to sever your ties and seek refuge in our hideout.”
“Any chance we’ll be leaping soon?” Keefe asked as a blob of slime dripped into his hair.
“We won’t be leaping. The ogres have a gadget that can follow the trail of a leap to its source. It’s how they restrict entry to their cities and monitor intruders. Now that we know the Neverseen are working with the ogres, we must assume they’ll try to track us.”
“So we can’t leap anymore?” Fitz asked.
“Not here, when they’re so close.”
The words echoed through the tunnel, turning every shadow into a cloaked figure.
“If they’re close, why aren’t we going after them?” Keefe asked.
“We fight the fights we can win, Mr. Sencen. Right now, the Neverseen have too many advantages. They’re hidden somewhere in the city, likely somewhere with great potential for human casualties. That’s why I have our transport waiting downriver, where they’d never think to look.”
“Uh, not to ask the obvious question,” Dex jumped in, “but why not have us meet you there in the first place?”
“We have reasons for working in riddles, Mr. Dizznee, and convenience is never a consideration. But the trail you followed was incredibly secure.”
“Maybe, if you ignore all the human technology I had to handle,” Dex mumbled. “And you’re lucky Sophie remembered all those weird facts about Florence.”
“Is that what you think it was?” Mr. Forkle asked. “Luck?”
Sophie sighed. “Exactly how many weird memories have you given me?”
“As many as you’ll need.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Fitz asked.
“Very careful planning.”
Sophie stopped walking. “Planning for what?”
“Please keep moving, Miss Foster. We do not have time for such discussions.”
“You’re seriously not going to tell her?” Keefe asked. “Don’t you think she deserves to know?”
“She deserves many things,” Mr. Forkle said. “But most important, she deserves a choice. And in order to give her that choice, she must discover her purpose on her own. There are also things we must keep secret—for her protection and ours.”
“Sandor always says that secrets hinder his ability to protect me,” Sophie reminded him.
“That applies to you keeping secrets from him. Not the other way around,” Mr. Forkle replied. “We must hurry. Our rides won’t wait forever.”
Sophie glanced at her friends, and she didn’t have to be a Telepath to know what they were thinking. After all the risks they’d taken—all the sacrifices they’d made—they’d been hoping the Black Swan would be more . . . cooperative.
But it was too late to turn back. They had to keep moving forward and hope they could convince the Black Swan to work with them.
She clutched the cache in her pocket, glad to know she had a secret of her own as she followed Mr. Forkle out of the tunnel.
The river was empty. No people. No boats. No sign of whatever ride Mr. Forkle had arranged—until he blew into a slim copper whistle. It made no sound, but the brownish water rippled. Bubbles followed, growing larger until a scaly gray-green head popped out of the water.
“Plesiosaurs?” Keefe asked as five more dinosaur heads burst out of the water.
“Eckodons,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “Though Miss Foster likely knows them as Nessie.”
Sophie smiled, no longer stunned when human myths turned out to be based on reality. The creatures did have long, hooked necks like the Loch Ness Monster, but their noses were a bit more pointed, and long gills lined their cheeks.
“These are the dinosaurs that use sound vortexes, right?” Fitz asked.
“Precisely why I chose them,” Mr. Forkle agreed. “They will be slower than light leaping, but faster than many other methods. And the Neverseen cannot track us underwater.”
“Underwater?” Sophie repeated as he handed everyone a clear slimy membrane and told them to wrap it around their bags to keep them dry. “How will we breathe?”
“Yeah, I can only hold my breath for fifteen minutes,” Dex said.