I just… I had to do something.

We weren’t getting anywhere. And I knew the Neverseen wanted me to join them. So I thought… okay… let me give them what they want—or pretend to, anyway. Then I could find out all their secrets and take them down from the inside out.

But it went wrong right from the start—right from this moment.

Foster wasn’t supposed to be there.

She wasn’t supposed to know what I was doing until I was already long gone.

Just like she wasn’t supposed to know I stole Kenric’s cache until I’d already stolen it back and destroyed the Neverseen and saved the day and fixed everything—go, me!

But… she was there.

And while I will always be glad I made her that necklace and hid a leaping crystal in one of the beads (I seriously don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if she couldn’t have gotten away…), her escape also derailed everything. Any trust I was supposed to earn from handing over Kenric’s cache vanished the second Sophie did. And I knew that the Neverseen were never going to trust me.

I guess I probably should’ve cut my losses right then and fled to the Black Swan. But I just kept thinking there had to be a way to salvage the situation.

There wasn’t.

And I’m pretty lucky no one got seriously hurt, and that Foster forgave me.

I wasn’t sure if she would.

Sometimes I still worry that some tiny part of her holds it against me. That she’ll never fully trust me. That she’ll always see me as the guy who betrayed her and stole from her and ran off with the enemy.

I mean… look at her face.…

I make myself remember that expression every time I have to be around Fitzphie. It stops me from screaming, DON’T PICK HIM—PICK ME. Because yeah, Fitz has yelled at her a few times, and said stuff that makes me want to smack him upside the head.

But I’m the only one who’s made Foster look like this.… Like she’s just lost all hope that there’s actually good in the world.

I did that.

Not sure I deserve to be forgiven.

And on that cheerful note, let’s move on to the next memory!

MEMORY #5

Okay, so I’ve lived through some pretty scary things. But I’ve never been as terrified as I was watching Lumenaria fall.

I was right there on the beach when the castle crumbled. And all I could think was: Foster’s in there.

Everything after that is a fragmented blur.

I have scattered memories of running around, asking anyone if they’d seen her or knew where she was. But no one could help. I’m not sure they even understood what I was asking. Everyone was in shock. It felt like the whole world had just toppled.

So I kept running faster, digging through rubble, screaming her name, begging anyone to tell me something—give me some tiny shred of hope that she was okay, because she had to be. It had to be like her kidnapping—like her planting. Everyone said she was gone forever, but she came back safe.

I needed her to be safe again.

But she wasn’t with the survivors.

Neither was Edaline.

And one person said they’d seen Sophie run back into the castle not long before it fell.…

But then… there she was.

I definitely cried after I’d made sure she and Edaline were still breathing.

Don’t think Foster noticed, though. I tried to get it together before I woke her—tried to focus on looking calm, because I knew she’d need me to be. But I was a mess.

I’m still a mess, just looking at her bruises and all that destruction.…

I know I crack a lot of jokes about Foster’s near-death experiences—but there’s nothing funny about them. Especially this one.

I almost lost her.

And if I had, it would’ve been all my fault.

All of this is my…

Hmm. Probably better if I don’t finish that sentence. And wow, this is getting dark. Let’s hope the next memory is a bit less brutal.

MEMORY #6

Ha, looks like I got artsy with this one. I couldn’t actually see the moonlarks in their nest (or any fancy shadows). But… I wanted to make sure I remembered their songs.

The melodies were mournful and tragic—but somehow still so hopeful. And that definitely summed up what it felt like to find out Forkle was not-dead and still-dead all at the same time.

Fitz freaked out and yelled. Biana sobbed. Dex got all technical and asked a billion questions. Bangs Boy got moody and demanding (no surprise there). Linh did that quiet, thoughtful thing she’s so good at.

And me?

I swear, when I saw Forkle, I didn’t know if I wanted to strangle-hug him or just strangle him. I still don’t really know how to wrap my head around the whole secret-twins-sharing-a-single-life thing. But… I’m glad we didn’t lose him completely.

And I’m glad Foster took the news okay (though she did tug out a few eyelashes). Forkle had begged me with his final breaths to take care of his moonlark. And I swore I would—though he didn’t need to ask.

That’s been my plan for a long time—and not because I don’t think she can take care of herself.

Because she shouldn’t have to.

She’s dealing with enough pressure and responsibility and people trying to kill her. If there’s anything I can do to make things easier for her, I’ll do it. No matter what.

Also? Really hoping I don’t have to wear that green tunic again. I mean, I look awesome—but I’m sick of losing people.

I’m sick of losing in general.

But staring at this memory isn’t going to help with that, so… moving on!

MEMORY #7

Ugh.

That’s all my brain wants to say about this memory.

Just… ugh.

But that’s not going to be helpful.

Neither will the many thoughts I have about the way Fitz is freaking out. Or the fact that I was only there because Alden basically asked me to join Team Fitzphie.

(Yeah, I know. I wanted to say no. But I said yes for her. She deserves to decide what she wants—even if it’s not me.)

As for helpful thoughts… I don’t know. Alvar definitely looks super meek and remorseful. And I know I’m supposed to see that and think, LIAR! TRAITOR! LOCK HIM UP!

And I do think that.

But the weird thing about being an Empath is that I also know, for a fact, that he actually was meek and remorseful after he lost his memories. And if they hadn’t come back, I think he would’ve stayed that way. Which is pretty terrifying, if you think about it.

Means we don’t have to be born evil to be evil.

We can switch sides anytime.

Pretty sure that’s what my mom is counting on.…

And before I go any farther down that depressing thought-path, let’s move on.

MEMORY #8

Welp. I knew I was going to have to face my mommy issues eventually, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand here we are.

I mean… look at her!

She looks like she’s cheering on her favorite team in bramble, not torturing (and almost killing) her son! And that was seriously her expression. I’d told myself not to look at her, but I did end up stealing one quick glance, and I swear, I could imagine her chanting, Legacy, legacy, legacy!

Then there’s Tammy Boy. I should probably hate him for this, since it’s not like he’s ever been my favorite person. But… he did try to warn me. And I know he only cooperated because of those creepy light-things on his wrists.