“Maybe not. But if something happens . . .”

She waited for him to say the rest—the real reason he felt so responsible. When he didn’t, she said it for him.

“I know you blame yourself for what your mom’s done—”

“This isn’t about her!”

But it was.

Sophie knew him too well.

Keefe’s family life had always been miserable, thanks to his stiff, insulting father. But he’d been on a downward spiral ever since he’d discovered that his mom was one of the leaders of the Neverseen. She’d even erased some of his childhood memories and hidden a tracker in his family crest pin so he’d lead the Neverseen straight to his friends. But that was all before the Neverseen left her to die in an ogre prison as punishment for allowing one of her cohorts to be captured.

Keefe kept claiming he didn’t care. But Lady Gisela was still his mom—and he’d joined the Neverseen right after he found out they might be willing to help him rescue her.

“Please,” Sophie begged. “We can do anything they can do. Just come home—before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.”

His voice was the same flat tone he’d used before, when he’d told her I can’t pretend I’m who you want me to be anymore.

“So this is about the Lodestar Initiative, then?” she asked.

She’d only heard the mysterious project mentioned twice—once from the Neverseen and once in Keefe’s mind, in a memory his mother had tried to erase. It seemed to be the Neverseen’s grand plan. And Keefe believed he was a part of it.

Keefe stood to pace the small room, keeping a careful space between them.

“What is the Lodestar Initiative?” she pressed. “And what other lost memories did you recover? You said there were more.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously it does.”

Keefe tilted his head toward the ceiling, his eyes focused on the highest point. “All you need to know is that I’m not like you, okay? The Neverseen aren’t going to give me a choice.”

Sophie was part of a project too—the Black Swan’s Project Moonlark. They’d genetically enhanced her abilities and filled her mind with important secrets for reasons they’d still never fully explained. But Mr. Forkle had always made it clear that any further involvement was up to her.

“There’s always a choice, Keefe.”

“Yeah—I’m going to find a way to end this on my terms. That’s my choice.”

Silence swelled between them, and Sophie played with the monocle pendant he’d included with the note. “Was this the one that Brant ordered you to brand me with?”

Keefe cringed. “No. That one’s mine. I stole it back.”

“What happens when they notice it’s gone?”

He shrugged.

She sighed. “This is never going to work, Keefe. Brant and Fintan are crazy—but they’re not stupid. Neither is Alvar. One of them is going to figure out what you’re doing, and then who knows how they’ll punish you? Just quit now and we’ll come up with a new plan together.”

She offered him her hand.

Keefe stared at it for so long Sophie’s arm muscles began to ache.

“That’s it?” she asked when he turned away. “You’d rather keep hurting the people who care about you?”

“I’m helping you!”

“And hurting us. Do you know what Fitz did when I told him you left?”

Keefe ran his hands through his hair, wrecking his careful style. “I’m guessing yelling was involved.”

“That’s what I’d been hoping for. But he didn’t even raise his voice. He just looked away so I wouldn’t see him crying. So did Biana. Even Dex teared up.”

Seconds ticked by. Maybe minutes. It felt like forever before Keefe whispered, “What about you?”

“I cried harder than any of them,” she admitted. “And then I got angry. You stole Kenric’s cache from me. You mimicked my voice!”

The marble-size gadget held seven Forgotten Secrets—information deemed too dangerous for even the Council to know. Each Councillor had their own cache, and Kenric had asked Oralie to entrust Sophie with his when he died. Sophie had vowed to protect the cache with her life, and if she didn’t get it back before the Council discovered it was missing . . .

“I also helped you escape,” Keefe reminded her.

“Yeah, but you only made me one special bead. So what happens the next time the Neverseen find me? Or Dex? Or Fitz? Or Biana?”

“I’ll find another way. I’m already working on a few things. And I only rigged one bead because I knew the Neverseen wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice.”

“I love how you keep talking about them like you’re not one of them now.”

“I’m not.”

“Are you sure?”

She pointed to the patch on the sleeves of his long black cloak, the same symbol that kept haunting her nightmares—a white eye set in a circle.

“This is just a costume,” Keefe insisted.

“Even if it is, the things you’re doing are real. That cache could destroy everything. And you handed it over like it was no big deal—”

“Because it wasn’t! They can’t open it. They’ve had all their Technopaths working on it, and they can’t break through the security.”

“And when they finally figure it out?”

“I’ll steal it back long before that happens. I can handle this, Sophie. It’s my legacy.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m still putting all the pieces together. But I know enough to know I have to do this. And my plan is already working. Every day they’re trusting me a little bit more.”

“Why is that?” she snapped. “What horrible things are they making you do to prove yourself?”

Keefe tried to pace again, but she blocked his path. “Did you help them break into the registry?”

“Of course not.”

“Because they didn’t ask you? Or because you told them ‘no’?”

His fidgeting made her wish she didn’t have to ask her next question.

“What about the Sanctuary?”

The Neverseen had spent months trying to break into the animal preserve to steal Silveny and Greyfell—the only known alicorns, who also happened to be Sophie and Keefe’s friends.