THE MEMORY ENDS. When I come back to myself, I’m lying half on top of Neil, half on the floor. I’m too stunned to speak, and for a minute Neil must be too. The next Morati strike can’t be far off. But then Neil pushes me away. Roughly.
“Where the hell did that come from?” He glances from my face to the ruffled bed skirt, and his eyes widen. “You were hiding that memory globe under your bed, weren’t you?”
“I’m not the only one good at hiding things. I confessed all my sins to you, but you kept secrets from me.” Well, not my most recent sins, but that’s a technicality.
“You put the rest of us in danger so you could keep viewing memories. How could you keep evidence to yourself? You might as well be in league with the Morati.”
“You’re wrong. In fact, today I caught one of the Morati. I saw into her true memories, and she’s in custody.”
Neil gets up and paces the room. “But what about the rest of the Morati? You don’t want them to be caught—not when they are supplying you with your memories.”
“That’s not true. I want them to be brought to justice as much as you do.” Even if I am one of them.
Neil laughs bitterly. “Right.” He stalks over to the table the Morati put there. Its intricate filigree makes it stand out from the rest of the furniture in the room. “I think it’s pretty telling that you kept their table.”
“They stole our memories. I just wanted to know what happened between us.” I may not like that Neil lied to me or that he had sex with Gracie, but at least it’s out in the open now. In reality his actual confession hurts less than the fact that he didn’t feel like he could confide in me. Trust is the basis of any relationship. Maybe we grew apart because he wouldn’t trust me and I somehow picked up on it on an unconscious level. Maybe that’s what has been driving me to regain my memories to find out the truth.
“It looks like Nate was right about us breaking up. Does that make you happy?” Neil asks.
“We don’t know that for sure.” I finally stand. “We need to view more.” Once we have the whole picture, we can heal our relationship. We can close the gap between us and truly be together.
Neil shakes his head. “When will it end? When will you understand that what matters is not what happened then but what is happening right now?”
But he tried to hide what happened then. If we hadn’t viewed that memory, then he might never have told me. “Were you ever planning to tell me about Gracie?”
“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” Neil says. “I’m going outside for a walk.”
His non-answer is one blow too many. And it fills me with rage. I pull the skep charm out of my shirt with such force, the chain breaks. My whole body buzzes, and I hurl the charm at the wall, aiming for his photo at the center of my collage. The charm falls with a soft thud onto the carpet, but at the same time there’s a metallic scraping sound as a ripple of energy the size of a Frisbee opens up, obliterating Neil’s photo in a bright light and melting the other photos it touches.
As we watch, the ripple expands outward, the circle of light growing larger, consuming nearly all of my collage.
I gasp and drop my arm. The circle flickers and fades, and then it’s gone. I sprint to the now almost bare wall, run my hands over the surface. It’s hot to the touch, and the ripples have left a circular pattern of grooves, like the ones found at all the Morati’s later bombing sites. My knees wobble and threaten to give out as I try to recall the chain of events that led up to the other bombings after I viewed memories. Each time electricity ran through me right before the energy blasts.
“What the hell was that?” Neil chokes out. He looks at me as if I’ve grown horns and a forked tail, and for all I know, maybe I have.
“Did an electric current hit you just now? Or before? When the other bombs hit?” Before the library bombing, he bent over and clutched his stomach. I’m sure of it.
“No. Why?”
If I am the only one feeling the electricity, then maybe it’s coming from me. Maybe I am the bomb. But I wasn’t anywhere near the other bombing sites, so I don’t know how it’s possible.
“I—I don’t know.” The ripples of energy appeared when I threw the skep charm at the wall. I pick it up off the floor and examine it closely. It’s an ordinary metal charm on an ordinary gold chain. It must be a coincidence. Unless it’s not. When Autumn saw my charm, she thought it was an obol. Megan said obols are what Careers use to travel between levels, and I found out later that they have to use the regulated portals in Areas One and Three. But what if this particular obol can open portals anywhere? If that’s the case, why wasn’t Nate opening portals anywhere he pleased? Or was he? I am so confused.
“Is that your skep charm?” Neil asks, reaching out his hand for it.
I snatch my arm out of his reach and tuck the charm into the pocket of my capris. If it holds such power, I have to keep it safe. “Yes. Not that you care,” I snipe at him.
“Where did it come from?” He’s mystified, and wary.
We sit next to each other on the end of my bed, and the fight goes out of me. It’s time to tell him the whole story. No more lies. I explain that Nate dropped it in the brimstone jail while dumping a demon into the hellhole, and that I was there visiting Julian. He tries to interrupt me, to ask me questions, but I barrel on, needing the momentum to carry me through. I theorize that it could have been me who caused what we thought were bombings, but that might actually have been unstable portals that opened via some mystical combination of viewing the memory globes and touching the skep charm, though I have no idea how this happened or why. I admit that it sounds far-fetched, and that I could be totally misreading the situation. I stress that probably only the Morati know the truth and that’s why we need to talk to them. But I don’t tell him what Julian told me, about my being eight percent angel. How could he handle that, when I can’t come to terms with it myself?
When I stop talking, he doesn’t reply for several minutes. He’s so still, I almost think he’s somehow perfected Furukama’s trick of turning into a statue. Finally he tilts his face toward me.
“Maybe we should break up,” he says, and the words I dread the most in the world are out in the open.
I’m so light-headed, I might float straight out the window. “You don’t really mean that, do you?” I ask, my voice shriveled. Oh God, I shouldn’t have told him what I did. I’m such an idiot. Of course he doesn’t want to stay with someone as evil as I am.
“Yes. I do.” He sighs. “There’s something off about you.”
So that’s it, then. We’re broken up. I’m utterly numb.
“I’m still me,” I squeak.
“Are you?” Neil turns to face me full on, his features hard, though his eyes are still kind. “I sensed a change in you after you viewed that first memory globe. And now it’s like you’re possessed. You have this singular obsession with your memories, and you don’t care about anything or anyone else.”
“I care about the memories because I care about you.”
Neil shakes his head. “Why did you have that memory globe under your bed when you had the suspicion it might cause more destruction and endanger more lives?”
“Why didn’t you turn me in after the first memory globe?” I counter. “I think on some level you wanted me to view them.”
“I trusted you to do the right thing.”
“Trust?” I almost laugh. “You want to talk about trust? You didn’t trust me with your secrets, but you trusted the Felicia who existed in that memory.”
Neil walks over to the far corner of the room and plucks one of the few remaining photos from the collage wall. It’s the one of Autumn and me in Iceland, and it bubbles and curls up on one side, where it was scorched. “That Felicia is a myth. She always has been. The Felicia you are now is the only one who counts. She’s the one holding all the power.”
If that’s true, why do I feel so powerless?
He doesn’t get that I’d give anything to be that myth, because she’s the one who knows what really happened to us. And knowledge is the real power. I flop backward onto the bed. “You’re wrong.”
“Felicia, listen. Because I want you to understand this.” He returns to my side and takes my hand in his. He lightly traces the love line on my palm, sending calming vibes up my arm. “I wasn’t hiding that memory from you because of Gracie. I was hiding it because of me.”
“What do you mean?” I sit up.
“I’m questioning everything, because nothing’s like what I thought it would be. I’ve lost my compass, and I don’t know which way is north, or if I should be headed that way.” He draws in a shaky breath. “Your faith in me was the only thing keeping me going. It was wrong of me, but I didn’t want you to stop thinking of me as a good person. And I thought that if you saw that memory, you would. I’m sorry.”
He looks up at me warily, as if bracing for my condemnation. But he’s right that my expectations of him were unrealistic. By sticking to my highlight reel in Level Two, I curated a Neil memory museum, framed him as a masterpiece. Now, confronted with the real boy next to me, I realize he’s just as much a work in progress as I am.
I squeeze his hand. It was enormously difficult for him to lay bare his soul like this. All at once I understand what Neil has been trying to tell me. Goodness is a series of choices, every day, not a static character trait. But if he thinks a single choice in his past defines his worth, then we both need to change our concept of what “good” is. “I’m sorry too. And for the record, you’re more than good enough for me.”
He smiles sadly. “You’re good enough for me too.”
“Maybe not yet. But I want to be.” I stand up. “First I have to tell Furukama about this energy blast I created. And about its possible connection to the obol and the memory globes. Maybe he’ll know what’s going on, or at least what we should do about it.”
“Right now?”
“I’ve already waited far too long.” I bet that Furukama is still in the brimstone jail, interrogating Emilia. We can add this to his line of questioning.
He stands up beside me. “I can go with you. If you want.”
“You’d do that? Even though we’re broken up?”
He draws me into a hug. “No matter what happens, I’ll never stop caring about you.”
“Thanks, but Furukama would probably prefer that I come on my own. He’s a very private person.”
Neil nods. “Good luck.”
To avoid any Morati who may be out looking for me, I keep in the shadows on the way to the jail. Like I did the night when I went to visit Julian there, I rush from tree to tree, hiding myself behind their trunks. When I pass the Forgetting Tree, I wonder again what Neil wrote on his scrap of paper, but laugh when I realize that I simply don’t care that much anymore. It’s so liberating that he finally confided in me, like a giant weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Is it possible to rebuild our relationship? I want to believe it is.
When I reach the tall stone doors to the jail, they are open and unguarded. Alarm bells go off in my head. Maybe Furukama had an emergency and called the guards down to him. If so, I need to help out. I pause long enough to send a mental SOS to Brady just in case. I think about his silver belt buckle and lock on to his signal. He’s in the dorm, so he must not have been on guard duty tonight.
I enter the jail and tiptoe down the stairs, my senses on high alert. On my last visit I got a headache, thanks to my fraction of angel DNA. I’ll have to make this quick, if I can.
When I reach the base of the stairs, I duck behind a column and scan my surroundings. Emilia stands inside the bars of Julian’s former cell, but she’s not with Furukama. Instead it’s Autumn who jiggles a key in the lock of the cell door, unlocking it with a clang. What is she doing? And where are Furukama and the guards?
Emilia rushes the door and exits with a smile on her face. She is slow, stumbling over her own feet like a drunk, but as she nears my hiding place, I prepare to stop her from getting away.
Just as I stick out my foot to trip Emilia, Autumn grabs Emilia’s arms and twists them behind her back. As Autumn drags her toward the hellhole, Emilia struggles against her. She looks up and sees me staring. “Help me, Felicia! Autumn has gone mad!”
If she knows me still, Emilia’s not as far gone as Julian was, but Autumn has her completely overpowered. Her long hair is plastered to her sweaty skin, and she grimaces in pain.
“Shut up.” Autumn curses, but then smiles at me. Her pupils are huge and crazed, like when Furukama kicked her out of training. “It’s fine. I’m taking out the trash.”
“I won’t say a word. I swear,” Emilia pleads.
I step forward, my hands stretched out beseechingly. “Don’t do it. Furukama can’t have authorized this.”
Autumn laughs. “Who cares about Furukama? She’s going into the hole.” She smashes the bottom of her palm against Emilia’s forehead, knocking her out. She really means to throw her in.
If she’s not here under Furukama’s orders, she must have gotten rid of the guards. It could be a personal vendetta against Furukama, but it could be something more sinister.
Autumn drops into a crouch behind Emilia and shoves her arms under Emilia’s armpits. I can’t let her do this. I close the distance between us, smashing into her just as she pivots to heave Emilia into the pit.
The force of my tackle knocks them both to the ground. The key flies up, ricochets off the inside edge of the safety railing, and falls into the pit. Emilia’s limp body somersaults and then lands with a crash against the brimstone bars of the last jail cell.
Autumn squirms away, but I straddle her back and clamp her arms down at the wrists with her palms facing up. “If you won’t tell me the truth, I’ll force it out of you.”
She bucks beneath me, trying to throw me off. I hit her between her shoulder blades, and she collapses, clenching her hands into fists. I force one open and connect my palm.
I sift through her memories, an automatic response now that I’ve been practicing with Julian. It’s almost like flipping through an old family photo album, as I recognize familiar faces of friends and parents and siblings gathered at barbeques and pool parties and trips to quaint European villages.
But there’s someone I never expected to find in Autumn’s memories. Cash. I had no idea she knew him on Earth. I jump into that memory to investigate.
“You’re dressed up,” Cash says to Autumn, his gaze raking over her body in a way that sets her on fire. He tucks his hands between her gold belt and white gown and pulls her in for a kiss. “What’s the occasion?”
“Halloween party at the field house.” She snuggles up to him. Then she reaches for the gold halo headband she bought today to complete her costume. She holds it up. “I’m going as an angel.”
“One day you’ll be one for real,” Cash says fiercely. “And then we can be together forever.”
“I know.” She looks up into his pale blue eyes and sees the promises shimmering there. She’s never been lucky when it comes to love. And when Julian showed up at the sushi restaurant that day, she thought everything had changed for her. That someone might actually prefer her company to Felicia’s. But it became increasingly hard to ignore the way he was always sneaking glances at her best friend and mooning over her like a lovesick ape.
Then Cash came and swept Autumn off her feet. After she confided to him that she was envious of Felicia, after they made love, after she found out that Cash and Julian are real-life angels from heaven, Cash insisted that his being here should remain a secret from Felicia. Autumn is more than happy to oblige. Felicia still presumes that Autumn is dating Julian—making Felicia believe that she’s going behind Autumn’s back with Julian was also Cash’s idea—and Autumn thinks it’s hilarious that Felicia is so racked with guilt. It serves her right to have to suffer once in a while.
The doorbell rings. That must be Julian now. On her way to let him in, she pops a peppermint into her mouth and crunches down on it with her teeth.
At the door Julian barely masks his contempt for her, but once they’re in the living room with Cash and seated around the coffee table, he’s all respect and compliments. Autumn admires Cash for having that kind of power over Julian.
“Why is this job taking you so long?” Cash asks, cutting through Julian’s fawning.
Julian leans back in his chair. “Cassius,” he says, addressing Cash by his real name. “This kind of job takes finesse. If there’s a problem—”
“The problem is that you’re not following the plan,” Cash says. “You’re supposed to be driving Felicia to suicide, not falling in love with her.”
Suicide? Cash didn’t tell Autumn about the suicide angle. She may be fed up with Felicia getting all the attention, but she doesn’t want her to get hurt or to die. A chill comes over her. What has she gotten herself into?
“I need time to put all the pieces in place, that’s all,” Julian insists, flustered.
Autumn’s head spins. “Cash, why are you talking about suicide? That’s not what I agreed to.” She only wanted to teach Felicia a lesson.
Cash turns to her, puts his hand on her knee. His blue eyes are like deep pools, and she gets lost in them. The room blurs. Everything slows down. Her heartbeat. Her breathing. Her thoughts. Cash loves her and only wants the best for her. She has to listen to him. “Sometimes we have to make small sacrifices for the greater good,” he says.
“Yes, you’re right. The greater good.”
Julian snorts with disgust. “Why don’t you compel Felicia to commit suicide, since you obviously have no problem compelling Autumn to hate her.” Autumn’s mind is fuzzy, but she knows Cash is on her side. Felicia doesn’t care about anyone but herself, and she deserves what’s coming to her.
“I wish. But unfortunately, we can only bring desires to the surface that are already there, however small. In any case, I’m taking over from here on out,” Cash says to Julian. “You failed. You’re being recalled to Level Two and you can forget living on Earth.”
Julian shakes his head. “We have a plan for tonight. Right, Autumn?”
Autumn smiles, anticipating the look on Felicia’s face when she tells her that she and Julian kissed. Never mind that they didn’t. “We do.” She scoots closer to Cash on the sofa and runs her fingers lightly over his collarbone. “Give Julian another chance. It will be awesome.”
Cash puts his arm around her. “If you say so. But, Julian—dump Felicia tonight and then get out of town. Can you do that?”
Julian nods. “Of course.”
“Good.” Cash gives him an authoritative stare as Julian slinks out.
“I’ll see you later,” Autumn calls behind him. “Ten o’clock!”
The door slamming is his only response. “I don’t like him.” Autumn curls her lip and reaches for her flask of vodka. She takes a gulp, and some of it runs down her chin. Cash licks it off her face and then kisses her hard. It makes her feel the right amount of reckless.
“Nobody likes him,” Cash says. “He has been Earth-obsessed ever since the fissure and watching Felicia get mugged. He thinks he’s clever about hiding it, but he’s not.”
“Will you let him stay?”
“If he’s successful. But let’s not waste time discussing him,” Cash says with a devilishly seductive smile right before he bites her earlobe. “We have better things to do.”
Her phone vibrates on the table. It’s a text from Felicia that she has arrived at the field house. “Ooooh!” Autumn jumps up. “I’m so ready for my fight scene.”
“You’ll be great.” Cash follows her to her room, where she picks up her chiffon wrap and lets him drape it around her shoulders. “And don’t forget your halo.”
I exit Autumn’s memory and stare at her, openmouthed. Cash and Julian and my best friend were conspiring against me. I may have betrayed Autumn, but she betrayed me, too.