Pip shrugged uncomfortably. “How should I know? I don’t remember what I don’t remember. I mean, what have you forgotten? We’ve been bouncing around worlds like pinballs, that’s got to be doing something to you. World-walker and all.”

Eleanor started to reply that she hadn’t forgotten anything, and then she stopped. How could she be sure? She’d assumed she would notice when things started to fade, but this wasn’t like being Emptied. She might never notice that things were slipping away until she was so far gone she was barely herself anymore. Bright panic welled within her. It was already happening. They were already losing themselves.

She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t.

“I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything yet,” Otto said. When they looked at him, he dropped his eyes and shuffled his feet. “I checked the mirror. My eyes are totally gray now. And I can just tell. There’s all this knowledge, and I can just want it and it’s mine.”

The hedgewitch looked at him with unconcealed envy. “You’re young,” she said. Her voice was not friendly. “You don’t have so very much to lose. You may as well throw yourself into the Story. Get as much from it as you can, before it abandons you.”

“No way. I’m not forgetting my family,” Otto said fiercely. “Besides, I like learning things the normal way. Knowing things is fine. Finding things out is way more fun.”

“So we’re all double-doomed now,” Pip said with hollow humor.

“We’re not doomed,” Eleanor said, but it was getting harder and harder to feel it. “The Library. We have to go to the Library.”

“We don’t have time,” Pip said.

Eleanor glared at her. “You’re right. We don’t. Because if you’ve already forgotten your mom, time is almost up. Getting rid of the Stories doesn’t mean getting our memories back. If we don’t stop them, there won’t be any us to save from Mr. January,” Eleanor said.

“You and Otto still have plenty of time,” Pip said. “The warrior is useful. Way more useful than plain old Pip. Let me help save everyone from Mr. January, and then we can get rid of the Stories. It’ll be fine.”

If Eleanor hadn’t known Pip so well, she might have believed her casual tone and the way she shrugged one shoulder to show she meant every word. But Eleanor saw the way her chin trembled, just a bit. The way her fingers curled when she crossed her arms, to hide the fact that she’d bitten her nails down to nothing.