In the memory, Fintan smiled at something Keefe said, and Sophie’s insides twisted.

I hate that he’s the one training you. He’s not even an Empath.

I know. But all the one-on-one time I’m getting with him is crucial if I’m going to steal his cache. Plus, there aren’t any other Empaths to train me. I asked him why, and he said, “It’s rare to find those who are open to new sensations.”

He made his mental voice sound like Fintan, and the knot of emotions under Sophie’s ribs pulled so tight, it hurt to breathe.

Sorry. I guess it’s probably pretty hard to hear that after the awful times you’ve been in his head, Keefe mumbled.

I don’t know how you stand it. It makes me want to claw my ears off—or claw his lips off, or I don’t know—I just want to claw something.

I know. I’m super glad you’re not clawing me. And fortunately, he doesn’t talk much. Mostly he says, “Tell me what they’re feeling” and points to some random person in the crowd. It only gets weird at the end. Before he brings me back to the hideout, he always asks, “If you could only save one of these people, who would you save?”

That’s . . . terrifying.

I know. I totally thought he was going to burn down the city, and I had no idea what I’d do if he did. But he just scratched his chin and asked why I chose the person. He always writes down my answer in this little notebook he keeps in his pocket. Most of the time he tilts it up so I can’t see what he’s writing. But a couple of days ago it was windy and the pages kept flipping, so he held it at a different angle and it looked like he’s making a list—but I have no idea of what. The label at the top said: “CRITERION.”

FORTY

I’M GUESSING THERE’S a reason you just gasped, Keefe said as the city in his memories shifted again, to a colorful barrio filled with music and dancing.

Sophie bit her lip. Biana overheard Alvar talking to someone on his Imparter at Everglen a few months back. And he used the word “criterion.” He also talked about “test subjects.”

She let that sink in before she asked, Do you think that means they’ve been planning to train you like this for a while?

Probably, Keefe said, disgust laced through every syllable. I keep trying to tell you—I’m not the guy you want me to be.

I don’t want you to be anyone except you. Whatever the Lodestar Initiative is—it doesn’t define you any more than Project Moonlark defines me. Especially since I’m starting to think their plans aren’t even working. I can’t remember the last time the Black Swan were ahead of all the crazy stuff going on—and it seems like the Neverseen are scrambling too. These groups may have created the game. But that doesn’t mean we have to play by their rules. And if there’s one thing you and I are both good at, it’s making things up as we go along.

I guess I can live with that, Keefe thought as his memory changed to a quaint village-style city, with a long wooden bridge spanning the peaceful river in the center. Enormous snowcapped mountains loomed in the distance, and Sophie assumed that meant they were somewhere like Austria or Switzerland.

So . . . what are your criteria for deciding which person you would save? she asked.

It depends. I mostly look for whoever feels the happiest, since I figure they’d appreciate getting to live. Or I pick one of the kids. They’re so cute and small and innocent—and wow, that’s a huge wave of sappy mushiness you’re hitting me with.

What do you expect? You’re talking about saving kids!

And ten minutes ago you thought I was Wylie’s fourth kidnapper. Remind me to thank Bangs Boy for that the next time I see him. And the Fitzster.

If you could’ve seen Wylie’s injuries, you’d understand why we had to be sure. She had to clamp down on her memories to stop herself from picturing it. Besides, seeing you in that robe . . .

Yeah, I can feel how much you hate it.

“Hate” isn’t a strong enough word. I want to rip it to shreds.

Well, don’t. I’m not wearing anything underneath.

He snort-laughed when she scrambled back a step.

I’m kidding—though your gross-out is noted. And FYI, the reason I’m still wearing it is because I can’t risk losing another one. Fintan flipped out when I came back from Foxfire without it, probably because he couldn’t track me or something.

That’s not the only reason.

Oh?

Yeah.

Seconds passed.

Aw, come on, Foster. I’m the cute guy who chooses to save the kids, remember? How can you resist me?

Who said anything about cute?

It totally goes without saying. Don’t even try to deny it.

She couldn’t.

And he knew it.

And she hated it.

If I tell you, I want something in return, she decided.

Isn’t my eternal devotion enough?

Not even close.

That hurts, Foster.

That’s the game. If I tell you what we found in your cloak, I want a secret in return. I want to see whatever memory you got back that freaked you out and made you run away.

His mind seemed to squirm.

Come on, Keefe. Sooner or later you’re going to have to tell me anyway.

See, but “later” sounds way better than “sooner.”

You think it does, because hiding stuff always sounds easier. But all it really means is that you’re stuck carrying the burden all alone.

That’s better than dumping it on you.

But I’m asking you to—and I promise, it’s not going to change anything.

Oh, it changes everything. You’ll see.

Does that mean we have a deal?

She heard him sigh. Fine. But you go first.

Fair enough.

She explained about the disk in his cloak, and how Prentice’s memory of the symbol seemed to be connected to him calling swan song, and how they found the shadowprint of the symbol on the floor of the abandoned hideout in Paris. And while she was at it, she told him about the listening device in his old Imparter.

Your turn! she finished.

Whoa, hang on—you can’t just dump all of that on me and not give me a second to process. There was a listening device in my old Imparter? How did you even have it?

Yours accidentally got switched with mine the day we searched your room and found your mom’s note. Dex couldn’t track the signal, but we’re assuming it went to the Neverseen, and that’s how they knew about our ambush on Everest and had time to prepare.