mental strength as a glowing sphere, letting it grow bigger and bigger and bigger until she could shape it into something more useful. She chose a giant cartoon-size mallet, then pictured it pounding at the threads of black that were curling into a much-too-familiar clawed shape—Bang! Bang! Bang!—until the darkness was nothing more than a smear of shadow.
She washed away the last of the black by replaying her happiest memories.
Silveny nuzzling her tiny babies after they’d safely emerged from the makeshift hive.
Fitz twirling her around in his arms.
Dex hugging her without any awkwardness.
Keefe clinging to her hand, like she was the only thing holding him together.
Grady and Edaline telling her they loved her.
“Okay,” she whispered. “It’s under control now.”
“I still think we should take you home and have you rest,” Sandor said, turning to Mr. Forkle. “Surely you agree.”
Mr. Forkle dragged his hands down his face. “I… should’ve thought to bring Flori. It slipped my mind, like so many things, now that there’s only half of me. Though, honestly, this entire process seems determined to be fraught with challenges. I’ll never understand why one failure seems so ready to chain itself to another and another. But that has been the case from the minute this memory became a part of our story. And each new trouble seems to outdo the others—though I suppose nothing has been worse than the moment at the hospital.”
“You mean when my allergy nearly killed me?” Sophie clarified, pulling free of Sandor to prove she could stand on her own.
“Definitely not a moment I want to live again,” Mr. Forkle whispered. “And yet, it may be unavoidable.…”
“Um, what does that mean?” Sophie asked, backing a step away, as if Mr. Forkle was about to lunge for her with a giant syringe full of limbium.
He cleared his throat several times, then straightened and smoothed his hair. “All will be fine, Miss Foster. One problem at a time.”
“Okay, now I want to know what that means too,” Sophie noted.
“As do I,” Sandor agreed, positioning himself between Sophie and Mr. Forkle.
Mr. Forkle’s laugh was mostly a wheeze. “I suppose I can’t blame you for those reactions. But I assure you, this visit is entirely about returning Miss Foster’s memory.”
Sophie’s head rang with another ghostly scream.
“There, see?” Sandor said as Sophie imagined another giant glowing mallet smashing the newest shadows to smithereens. “You’re not up for this. We need to take you—”
“No,” Sophie interrupted, stumbling away from everyone to get some fresh air.
She’d spent years trying to beg, bribe, trick, or steal back her missing memory—and then weeks running from it after she’d recovered that terrible piece.
But… not knowing didn’t change anything.
Whatever had happened, happened, whether she remembered it or not.
Sophie, please—stop!
“I’ll be fine,” she said, taking slow, steady breaths as she closed her eyes and replayed more happy memories.
“I don’t think you will be,” Sandor said quietly. “At least wait until we’re somewhere that Flori can help—”
“You are,” a muffled voice told them as the ground parted by the nearest tree and Flori emerged from among the tangled roots. She shook the dirt and pebbles out of her plaited hair and sang a few soft lyrics to make the tunnel close behind her, each blade of grass falling perfectly back into place as if the hole had never been there.
“How did you—” Sophie started.
Flori flashed a green-toothed smile. “Nubiti and I have recently discovered that the language of the earth is connected to the language of everything that grows within it. I can’t understand every word she says, but I can catch the basics, and it makes her able to reach me immediately—and the same is true when I need to reach her.”
Mr. Forkle frowned.
Sophie could tell his mind was flooding with just as many questions as hers was. But he simply stomped twice and called, “Thank you,” toward the ground, before he repeated the sentiment to Flori.
Flori nodded, already humming her healing song as she made her way to Sophie’s side and took her hands, swaying back and forth. Sophie closed her eyes, unable to deny how much it helped to feel the soft sounds sinking under her skin like one of Elwin’s balms. And when Flori was finished, she had to hug the tiny gnome.
“You did not need me this time,” Flori whispered, trailing her fingers across Sophie’s shoulders. “You’re growing stronger and stronger with each brighter day. But I’m still happy to make your struggle easier, so you can save your energy for the larger battles.”
Sophie