Agent Moonlark

Chapter Thirteen

Sophie

Sophie was having trouble breathing. Her heart pounding, her breaths coming fast. She stared at Keefe with wide eyes.

"The Enlightened Language?," she croaked. She'd never heard of it. What was it? Where did it originate? And most importantly, why would a member of the Neverseen know it and not she?

Keefe nodded. "My mom found it. But she couldn't figure it out. It enraged her. And something that makes my mom mad...is something that interests me." He paused and leafed through the diary, seeming fascinated. He studied the book, his tongue stuck out in concentration. "It was over ten years ago. I would study the language for hours at a time, look through the books that seemed the most irrelevant." Suddenly, he froze.

"What?!," Sophie demanded. He didn't respond. "What, Keefe? I'm serious!" He still did not move, not even when she waved a hand in front of his face.

"Keefe?" He was starting to scare her now. "Keefe Sencen!"

She snapped her fingers in front of his face. He was as still as a statue. She shook his shoulders violently. He didn't even blink.

"Keefe, if you do not answer me this second, I'll - I'll ground you! No, worse, I'll take away your pranking supplies. I'll force you to be friends with Fitz!"

"No! Don't!," he yelled, finally coming back down to Earth.

Sophie fixed him with a hard glare. "What. Was. That?"

"Sorry," he apologized. "I do that when I'm thinking hard."

Sophie snorted. "You think?"

Keefe clutched his chest. "Foster! I'm terribly offended that-"

"What were you thinking about?" Sophie had gotten off track, and she was determined not to do so again.

"Calla," he breathed. "I know why she sounds so familiar. I looked into some family trees, and Calla was in one of them. They were descended from the Panakes. The Panakes was...a clan of some sorts. Barely known. They spoke this - this language. They called it the Enlightened Language. And the written form matched with the language my mom found.

"I traced the family tree to this person named Mitya." Sophie could barely contain her gasp. Mitya was a member of the Black Swan. She was married to Lur. She and Lur were in their late fifties. They tended to stay on the side, unnoticed, but Sophie could still recall a few times when she'd seen them talking to Calla.

"I talked to Mitya. At first, she didn't want to teach me. I don't know what changed her mind, though, but two days after I reached out to her, she contacted me and told me she was willing to give it a try. And the language..."

He grabbed her hands, and she could see the absolute awe in them. This sent a tingle down her spine, and caused her blood to rise to her cheeks. Butterflies fluttered in Sophie's stomach, but she tried to ignore the reason why.

"Sophie, the language was beautiful. So beautiful that every time she spoke it, I wanted to cry. It was music to my ears." The sincerity in his eyes turned Sophie's brain to mush.

"That language was the easiest one to learn. Not because it was simple or anything, but because I wanted to. Even the writing is beautiful." For the first time, Sophie truly looked at the runes. And Keefe was right. They were beautiful. Archaic, but beautiful. She had no other words for them. None at all. For the first time, she felt no frustration when she looked at them, only wonder.

"Mitya was kind, and a good teacher. We met in secret. I told her I wanted no one to know because my mom wouldn't approve. She believed me. And I guess it was kind of true. But it was mostly because-" He broke off and looked at the ground sheepishly. "I didn't want to share the Enlightened Language with her or my father. I felt like they wouldn't truly appreciate the beauty of it. And I didn't want to give my mom any satisfaction."

"Well, what does it say?!" Sophie could not wait any longer. For days, she had waited for a breakthrough. She had a hunch that whatever Calla had had to say was important. Very important.

Keefe opened the book to the first page, and started speaking in a different language. The Enlightened Language.

Keefe

"Dear those who find this, my name is Calla. I will not waste time on explaining why I have written in this language. I know not many know it. I can only hope that Lur and Mitya find this. I was given this mission. A mission that has more importance than the Collective think. And I'm afraid that I won't come out alive. So that is why I have written in this. As a good-bye...and as a last resort. Because I know I will learn things. And I may not be able to relay the information to the Black Swan. So read on my moonlarks."

Keefe quickly translated to Sophie, who seemed to be getting more and more worried. The crease between her eyebrows deepened, and she forgot to be hostile to Keefe.

"What does that mean?," she whispered. "Did Calla know she was going to die?"

Keefe did not know the answer to her question, so he turned the page. "Dear readers, today, I searched for their hideout. I met with the double agent (who's on our side, of course.) She does not have a big role in the Neverseen, but I with not enclose her name, for fear of this being discovered by the Neverseen. Yes, Agent Forkle found out what they were called."

He skimmed the page. Nothing exciting seemed to happen in that entry. "Sophie, can I skip ahead to things that look important?"

He glanced at her, but found he couldn't look away. There were tears in her pretty eyes, and he could tell that she had cared for Calla. A lot.

"How would you know if they're important?," she asked him. Her voice was thick, and Keefe could tell that she wanted to cry. He felt slightly awkward, and wanted to crack a joke to lighten the mood, but now was not the time.

"They're literally underlined." At this, Sophie's lips twitched. Her eyes were still sad, but at least she was better now.

"Read." Her voice lowered to barely a whisper. "Please." Keefe enveloped her in a hug, his chin resting on her forehead.

"I know we just met, but you need a hug," he teased. He was rewarded with a half-heartedly chuckle.

"I know, Keefe, I do, but can you go on with the diary?"

"'Dear readers,'" he read, "blah blah - oh! 'I made a discovery. I made progress. They talk about a plague of some sorts. They call it the "Gnomish Plague."' Well, that's all that interesting for that day..." He flicked the pages, pausing when he got to one where the words were heavily underlined. "'Dear readers, the Gnomish Plague is caused by drakostomes. I managed to tell Agent Forkle that before our communication was cut short. It was weird, I was talking to him via imparter, one of Tinker's inventions. And then, suddenly, it stopped. I think the Neverseen are on to me."' Keefe stopped there, seeing the fear in Sophie's eyes.

"She already died," she said, more to herself than to him, "yet I'm still scared for her."

Keefe wiped away the tears trickling down her cheeks. He didn't say anything because he knew that she didn't want anything to be said.

He felt a connection between them. Like they were either going to be really good friends - or more. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile. He decided to do anything in his power to make her happy.

"Go on."

He searched until he found more underlined runes. "'Dear readers, I wondered what Panakes had to do with all this. Now I know. The drakostomes come from the bark of the Panakes trees. The trees that my ancestors first planted. The trees that symbolize my people. It breaks my heart that something so vile and dangerous can come from these beautiful trees."'

He flipped through the pages furiously until he landed on the second to last page. He stared at it for a good minute, processing what was written.

"What?," Sophie asked, glancing at the page.

"There's a cure."

A/N: Sorry if the characters are a bit OOC. As you know, these aren't my words at the moment, this was the original authors first fanfic.