“Do you know what she’s looking at?” Sophie asked him.

“I have my theories” was all Mr. Forkle said. “But they’re just theories. I checked the feed from every nearby camera and couldn’t get a view of that portion of the street to confirm.”

“Well that’s… also convenient,” Fitz said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “It’s like she knows where your cameras are.”

“That does appear to be the case,” Mr. Forkle said, staring up at the sky. “And it’s not altogether surprising, considering how rarely I’ve ever captured footage of any members of the Neverseen. I’d just been hoping that was because they stayed mostly underground or in their hideouts. But it seems they might know exactly how to evade detection. Which is particularly unsettling when you consider how many cameras I’ve hidden.”

“They’re always ahead of us,” Sophie muttered, giving in to an eyelash tug.

“I wouldn’t say always,” Mr. Forkle said. “They—”

“What happened after five minutes and forty-three seconds?” Keefe interrupted, calling the words over his shoulder without turning around.

“I’m sorry?” Mr. Forkle called back.

“You said you only had five minutes and forty-three seconds of footage of her,” Keefe clarified, still without looking at anyone. “I’m guessing it starts when she shows up. But what happens at the end?”

“She’s simply gone,” Mr. Forkle told him.

“So she light leaped?” Fitz asked.

“That’s what I’m assuming,” Mr. Forkle said. “But I have no record of her raising a crystal, so if she did leap away, she must’ve used one of the Neverseen’s hidden paths—which, incidentally, is also what I believe she’s looking at, tucked into that small portion of the street that’s shielded from all of my cameras.”

“You mean like the crystal that Dex and I found on one of the lanterns in Paris?” Sophie asked. When he nodded, she had to admit, “I’ve never really understood why that was there. Why go to so much trouble to hide a crystal in a Forbidden City when you could just use a home crystal or a pathfinder to leap away?”

“Because those can be lost or damaged,” Mr. Forkle reminded her, “and the Lost Cities can only be reached through designated paths. That’s one of the many ways we keep ourselves hidden from humans—and why our registry pendants all have a crystal in the pendant. It’s a fail-safe, in case something unexpected were to separate us from all other paths. But for the Neverseen—and, admittedly, for the Black Swan as well—we have moments when our pendants must be removed in order to avoid the Council’s tracking. And we take that risk most often when visiting the Forbidden Cities. So both of our groups have made the effort to hide a few emergency paths, to ensure we never find ourselves without a means to get home.”

“So… you’re saying you think one of the Neverseen’s secret leaping crystals is hidden in London near that giant clock thing?” Keefe asked. “On a part of the street where they know the Black Swan can’t see them?”

“That would be my guess,” Mr. Forkle agreed. “And I know what you’re going to say—”

“I say we go find it,” Keefe interrupted.

Mr. Forkle sighed. “Yes, that’s what I knew you were going to say. And I think you’re misunderstanding what the crystal is—the hidden paths are not meant to go somewhere secret or significant, because they’re left unguarded. All of the crystals the Collective has hidden leap to the most innocuous locations we could think of—places where we could blend in should we arrive unexpectedly, but that also have zero connection to our order in case our enemies find them.”

“Okay, but just because you guys are smart enough to think of that doesn’t mean the Neverseen are,” Keefe argued. “And even if you’re right, isn’t it worth it to double-check?”

“Of course,” Mr. Forkle agreed. “I plan to head there in the wee hours of the morning, once the streets are empty. And no—you’re not invited to come with me. For lots of reasons, but the biggest one being that where you go, so do an ogre and multiple goblins and many of your friends, all of whom create far too much spectacle for such a simple task—even at that early of an hour.”

“Uh, the ogre and goblins don’t have to come with us,” Keefe reminded him.

“Yes, we do!” Sandor stalked over to Sophie and grabbed her arm again to keep her at his side.

“You think Foster can’t take you down right now if she wants to?” Keefe asked with a sharp, bitter laugh.

A very un-Keefe laugh.

Mr. Forkle must’ve noticed too, because he told him, “This is why I made you promise to stay calm and rational and avoid any reckless behavior.”

“Yeah, well, then you proved my mom’s a murderer, so excuse me for freaking out a little,” Keefe snapped, tearing a hand though his hair.

Mr. Forkle narrowed his eyes. “Would it help if I promise to report back on everything I find?”

“No, because I don’t want to know what you find. I want to know what I find. I’ve been to London. I’ve walked some of those streets—and who knows? Maybe I’ve even used that path my mom used to leave. I can’t remember it because SHE ERASED MY MEMORIES SO I WOULDN’T REALIZE SHE WAS KILLING PEOPLE!”

He paused to catch his breath.

Mr. Forkle shook his head. “If Big Ben held any significance to you, the photo alone would’ve triggered the memory.”

“That’s not true and you know it! Memories aren’t only triggered by sights. Sound plays a role too. Smell. Taste. Touch. Even emotions. So we all know my best shot at recovering the memories is to walk those streets again. And I need to get them back.” His voice broke, and he looked away, tearing at his hair some more. “The guy’s dead, Forkle. And his daughter. She killed them. And I might know why. I might’ve…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Sophie could see the worry in his eyes.

The voiceless fear that he was partly to blame, because he’d delivered that letter.

Or maybe that he’d played an even larger role and had yet to fit those pieces together.

“I don’t care about safe or smart right now,” Keefe added quietly. “I care about finding the truth. Just let me walk those streets. That’s all I’m asking.”

Mr. Forkle dragged a hand down his face. “Fine. Give me a few days to properly prepare and I’ll get you to London, and—”

“I see zero advantage to waiting,” Keefe interrupted.

“And what about spontaneity?” Sophie added, realizing how close Keefe was to unraveling. “It worked great when Dex and I went, and—”

“That was a very different situation,” Mr. Forkle cut in. “You were going somewhere totally random and leaving in a matter of minutes—not heading to a location with a proven connection to the Neverseen and planning to spend untold minutes wandering around. Also, I feel the need to point out that just because a somewhat reckless decision worked out once doesn’t mean you can use that as a standard of measure for all similar situations.”