I stirred, swung my feet stiffly to the floor, and shook my head like a dog. I could say that because I remembered a dog now, Lizzy’s dog Magus. No, my dog—I was still schitzy about this past I’d just inherited. My dog, then. A bright-eyed, curly-haired mutt who loved the boat and swam like a seal. What had become of him? I felt loss, but no specifics. Perhaps I wasn’t ready to face that memory yet.

“Magus,” I whispered, the joy of remembering undercut by a piercing longing.

“What’s that?” Daniel shifted his feet off the chair in front of him and sat up. I must have looked startled, even scared. “It’s just me. The Book Dude, remember? We used to be friends?”

Having your brain straddle two time periods can be very confusing. Wary of falling into the gap between, I shook my head again.

“No? Really? Not at all? Could’ve fooled me.”

“Don’t! Please!” I pressed my palms to my eyes. “I can’t think straight!”

“Sorry.” He nudged my foot with his own. “Let’s start over. Who’s Magus?”

I blinked at him. The hard-edged glow of rage from the night before had faded to bleary concern. If possible, he looked dirtier and more banged up than before, but a certain weary satisfaction rounded his shoulders. “Oh! The Macys! How did . . . ?”

“We scooped up a bunch more from here and there, with Jandi’s help.”

“Jandi?”

“My Macy kid. But he can name a dozen more, likely still inside.”

“Can anything be done?”

“Working on it. Right now, a mob of Stormies have the building surrounded with a flotilla of rough-built rafts. For several hours. And they’re singing.”

“What?” Maybe I was still dreaming?

“Well, chanting, really. Like they’re blessing the place. Or exorcising it.”

“Bizarro.”

“Truly. They are the wacko wildcard in this mix. Unpredictable as the weather they worship. Maybe that’s the point.”

I shifted on my bench, longing for a more comfortable seat. “You look wrecked.”

“Who isn’t?”

He stood, stretched painfully, then dragged his chair closer until he was right opposite me, slouching into it until our knees almost touched. “So who’s Magus?”

And I thought I’d steered him off track. Ha. I stared at my feet a long while. How much of the past now crowding my head was I ready to share, with him or anyone? “A dog. That I remembered.”

“Back at the hide?”

“Just now.”

And that was interesting. New memories were slipping quietly into my mind without much fanfare. No need for a full-scale memory quake.

“What else did you remember?”

I wet my sleep-parched lips, feeling a pressure from within: talk to him. Like she wanted him to know, even as I hesitated. “My name.”

He sat upright, blunt fingers pinning his knees. “Really? That’s fantastic!”