“Listen!” Evin said, grabbing Jorick roughly by the shoulders and shaking him. “The other night, before we went underground, I saw Bet talking to herself in the ruins, like she was talking to someone else, but there was no one there. She was saying strange things that made it seem like she knew about the ormyrr before we ever saw it, and that she was guiding us somewhere. I think Bet is working for someone, maybe even the same foes that chimera was talking about and I think they did some magic on us and—”

“Shut up!” Jorick shouted. He raised his arms and shoved out of Evin’s grasp. Snorting in anger, he backed away. “You’re just saying that because you don’t like Bet. I see how you two fight all the time. You’re mad that someone other than you gets to shout orders for once.”

“What?” Evin said. “No! That’s not it at all! I mean, yes, she’s bossy—”

“She’s not the one who’s bossy,” Jorick muttered.

“But I know not everything is right with her. I just know it. And look at how you’re acting now! Laughing and chatting with her like you’re out on a casual stroll. Why aren’t you worried about your dad anymore? Marten was your friend too. Why aren’t you more upset about his death?” Evin shook his head, trying to sort it all out. “I think … I think her spell is wearing off. I think we’re starting to remember what’s real.”

“You’re crazy!” Jorick shouted. “I just know we’re going to save my dad, and I … I don’t remember really talking to your brother. I didn’t know him well, that’s all.”

“But that’s not what I remember!” Evin said desperately. “Or what my memories tell me, anyway. Tell me: Do you remember any time we spent together before two days ago? Anything specific?”

Jorick shrugged. “Yes. We were playing ambush in the woods.”

“Before that!”

“We … we worked for our fathers and we … you wanted to run away. …” Jorick suddenly sounded unsure, his voice faltering as he struggled for memories.

“Three days ago!” Evin said, looming over his now confused friend. “What happened three days ago?”

Pacing in a circle, Jorick held his hands in fists at his side and muttered to himself. Evin looked desperately past him. Bet was coming closer.

“I woke up,” Jorick said. “I … I ate breakfast and then went to my father’s smithy and … and I—”

“See?” Evin said, lowering his voice. “Why is it so hard to remember? Why do we have to struggle to remember things that should be so clear? It’s like sometimes memories just appear when we need them to, even though they weren’t there before. Doesn’t it feel like that?”

“It’s just …,” Jorick began, then faltered.