I woke Katrin and Errod up, quietly, and pulled them into my memory palace so I could have them watch the recovered memories with me. My other mind had the scene on pause as I caught them up. "Okay, I found the memory where I broke into Greg's vault. The dude had laughable security. I'm still not sure how I knew he even had a vault, but I'm not too concerned about that. It's pretty clear I was there more than once, in that office, I just haven't remembered the other times. Anyway, I just got the vault open by cramming something into a little slot and I'm about to... I guess steal some shit."

I led them into the memory, then sent the other mind back out to watch over us with divination.

I'd put the spoon back and stepped down the short steps into the secret room. There were four rows of shelves, each stretching back at least thirty feet. They had little partitions that could be slotted in or removed, such that each item on the shelves had its own little nook. Whole sections of the shelves were empty, but every nook with something in it had some things clamped to the shelves, specifically a sign with a number, a three-by-five card with some text, and - in some cases - a green metal loop.

"Hey, check out this metal. The loops? It looks a lot like the things on the airship, the metal that somehow interacts with fate threads. It's a bit shinier, though, and a bit greener. Could be a different thing entirely, or maybe the stuff on the airship is just a little dirty and corroded."

Katrin looked closely at one of them. "It could also be a different alloy, or with a different amount of mana."

The artificer in Storm's Keep had talked about that, how each alchemical metal had a low, neutral, and high state depending on the grade of mana crystal that was used to make them. "Okay, so assuming that's what this is, because it sure looks similar, does that mean all the items with loops in front of them have fates?"

Errod nodded. "It would make sense. Shame you can't use your threadsight here. It doesn't seem like it would be useful to have them just go through the loops, though... is it possible they're tied off, somehow?"

I could see what he meant. If the thread was originating at the item, why would you care about making it go towards the front of the shelf for a few inches before heading off to wherever? But if you could somehow tie it to the loop and keep it from attaching to anything else, that would be super handy. I'd seen fate threads tied off before, but I was pretty sure those were odd custom ones - if these were normal fate threads that were seeking some specific thing I wasn't sure they'd let you tie them down.

Katrin groaned in frustration. "There are wards on the shelves, but you're not looking at them. I keep getting little bits, and then as you turn away they get all... swimmy. Even when you're facing them, if you're not actually looking they aren't accurate."

Yeah, that was a big limitation of my Earth memories. It was purely what I had perceived at the time, and we only actively process visual information that's right in front of us. Even at the edges there was a lot of work done in our brains to fill in gaps and make assumptions, so for things like runes they weren't going to be accurate. The same problem came up with the items on the shelves; if I didn't actually examine one we had very little information about it. We couldn't turn it over and see the other side, we couldn't look at small details and expect them to stay put, and we certainly couldn't get them to do anything magic.

For that last bit, at least, we did have some information. The three-by-five cards had limited descriptions on them, and in the memory I was looking at a lot of the cards. As we'd assumed, they all sounded like magic items, and more than that many of them appeared to be powerful artifacts. There were swords, and jewelry, and bits of armor. There were things like mirrors and umbrellas and even a bowling ball, which raised a few questions.

The labels varied wildly in helpfulness. A lot of them just said UNKNOWN, or UNKNOWN / PLANAR, or UNKNOWN / TRANSMUTATION, things like that. Others had actual information ranging from a short description (WEATHER-CONTROLLING UMBRELLA. 10ARP05. BOUGHT AT YARD SALE) to actual instructions (PENDANT OF ANIMAL SPEECH. FOUND IN MCDONALDS FLOOR DRAIN. HOLD PENDANT IN HAND WHILE FOCUSING ON AN ANIMAL FOR ~5 SECONDS. ALLOWS BASIC COMMUNICATION OF IDEAS AND IMAGES BUT DOES NOT INCREASE INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMAL.)

A lot of them had dates and places where they were found, but not all of them. The dates went back to the nineties, and the places were often estate sales or auctions. Near the back of the room, there were glass tubes with living things suspended in them. The tubes were big enough for humans to fit in, but currently the three occupied ones held a plant, a weasel-like thing, and a vicious-looking giant lizard.

At the back wall, near the tubes, there was a computer. I watched as memory-me sat down at it and stared at the login. It was running Windows, which felt wrong in a secret bunker of magic items, and the login name was Greg's. I clearly wasn't sure of the password, but I started searching all around the desk in the hopes of finding something like the note upstairs with the security system code. Under the keyboard, under the desk, behind the monitor. Nothing. As I searched, I came across a display of... tools. There were some silver Coelestis pins, several rows of them. There were handcuffs, and a lock picking kit much nicer than the one I'd brought, and ammunition - no gun, though - and a round device that looked just right for going over someone's head.

I picked that last one up and turned it over in my hands, looking at it as if it was somehow familiar. I finally put it down and picked up the last item on the desk, a small notebook. It was some sort of employee guide. Rules for handling magic items, how to report problems, all sorts of things. I didn't get a good look at any of it as I flipped through, but the vibe was clear. Near the back there was a diagram of the circular thing, and that page was where I stopped. Instructions on how to use a memory-wiping device. Huh.

I read over the instructions - they were simple enough - and then put the notebook down, hands shaking. I sat back at the computer, which was still asking for a pin. I sighed, and idly typed in the same code I'd used for the security system even though that was never going to... huh. It worked. I sat up straighter, looking shocked. Holy shit, this was the worst security imaginable. There were only a handful of folders on the computer, and from the names - ITEM LIST, AGENT LIST, TRACKING, SEQUENCES - most were very narrow in focus. I pulled out my phone and confirmed I didn't have any bars, then got my charger out and plugged it into the computer, telling the phone to act as a storage device. I dragged all the files over, disconnected, and locked the computer.

Heading back down the aisles of shelves, I continued to glance at the cards for a moment before I heard a sound - the clink of metal against concrete, coming from the entrance. I knew, suddenly, what it was. Someone had accidentally kicked the broken shackle of the lock I'd cut off the door. I ran to the entrance, and as I went to shut the door I saw Greg there, staring at me. He only looked mildly surprised.

"Ah, shit," he said, "I knew you were trouble."

The actual door was at the top of some short steps, where Gary was. I couldn't close it. I stepped back, scanning around, and saw that there was another layer of door that had been open the whole time. Some sort of portcullis thing in the ceiling. I yanked a lever by the doorway and it slammed down, but I could see through some slots in the metal. Gary didn't seem like he was in a rush.

"How did you get past the wards?" he asked.

"Uh, not sure what you're talking about, your security sucks and I just sort of walked in. You're super bad at this. Also, side note, you smell bad. Like I know it's a whole big joke to say old people smell bad, but you smell really wrong. You should get that checked out, it's gross."

He sighed and pulled out a very stereotypical wand. The tip started to glow green. "I made this vault, you think I can't just take this door apart and come in there? Drop your bag and anything you've picked up in there, and that gold brooch my agent saw you with, and then come over here so I don't need to break anything. I promise I won't hurt you - it's a generous offer, I'd really prefer to tie your spine in a knot."

I was still backing away, and frantically scanning the shelves. "I lost the brooch, it's gone. But anyway, you don't want to zap me in here, right? With all this magic stuff around? No point in taking risks, who knows what you might do."

He grunted. "I know that look in your eye, child. I've seen it a hundred times on a hundred heroes just before they fucking died. Don't be stupid. Give up, and I'll just wipe your memory rather than killing you."

The edges of the security gate were glowing, but clearly he'd made it hard to destroy. Still, it didn't look like I would have a lot of time. I ran to the back where there was another door, a big metal hatch, but it was locked tight and I couldn't get it open. While I was back there I grabbed the memory device and shoved it in my bag, and then went up one of the other aisles looking for something that might help. There was an ornate wooden box I paused at, and the card said "REFLECTION BRACELET, RECOVERED FROM MUSEUM OF HISTORY IN BARCELONA. TRIGGERS ONCE PER ~16 HOURS IN RESPONSE TO MAGICAL ATTACK". I opened the box and pulled out an ornate bracelet, then closed the box again.

Down the aisle further, I found sturdy-looking black boots. "BOOTS OF TELEPORTATION. ESTATE SALE, NEW YORK. UNRELIABLE TARGETING, HAIR TRIGGER, FRAGILE." I took them as well, and when I heard the metal of the security door groaning and bending I seemed to have an idea. Muttering something about a hair trigger, I ran back to the other side of the room and looked at a shelf I'd passed earlier where a staff was resting. "STAFF OF DESTRUCTION. WORTHINGTON HARDWARE CO. UNSTABLE, HAIR TRIGGER, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO USE."

"Hey Greg! You think I can figure out to use this Staff of Destruction before you can finish getting the door open?"

The sounds of the door bending stopped abruptly. "Child, don't be stupid. That thing is dangerous, you'll kill us both."

I didn't make a move to touch it, but stooped down and kicked my shoes off so I could put the boots on. While I was down there, I also clicked the bracelet on around my ankle. "You're a mean son of a bitch Greg, and you want to erase my brain. You think I'll hesitate?"

"You don't know what that thing will do," he said. "Mean? Son of a bitch? Yeah, guilty on both counts. But you're about to disintegrate your arm if you're lucky, and if you're unlucky you'll damage a magic item in there that'll go nuclear. With some of the possible interactions between that staff and a few of the other artifacts here you could take out the whole block, and we're right on the edge of a residential street. Innocent people, just doing whatever they usually do at night, getting by. Moms helping their kids with homework, teenagers babysitting for some extra cash, little infants getting ready to say da-da for the first time. All murdered by your selfishness and incompetence. How does that sound, hero?"

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Making sure my backpack was on tight, I closed my eyes and tried to teleport. I stepped forward with purpose, then tried again with the other foot. I jumped. I stomped. Nothing. "Okay," I said, "I'm coming out. Step away from the door, though. All the way back, into the hallway. You try to shoot me with that wand, I'll crush the little bauble I'm holding - and from what I saw on its card, you don't want that." I wasn't holding anything, of course.

I stepped back to the middle aisle, and slowly approached the door. As I did, Greg backed up the stairs. Good. I got to the lever and pushed it, and the door attempted to go back up but got stuck thanks to the damage Greg had done. "All the way back," I said, "I'm coming out."

I ducked out under the gate and went up the stairs, and there was Greg - still holding the wand, just barely outside the storage unit. He arched an eyebrow at me. "You're not holding anything."

"I just wanted to make sure I got out of that room first, I've got a hunch about what you meant when you talked about wards." I smiled, and stepped forward. And the world twisted.

Experiencing a teleport while watching a memory was strange, but it was especially bad for Katrin and Errod. They both fell down. The me from the memory wasn't any better, and ended up on her ass in a bush, and also turned her head to throw up. She scrambled to her feet and then looked down to see smoke rising from the boots, so she kicked them off. I watched as she stood up, shaky, and pulled that brooch out of her pocket. The one she'd just told Greg that she lost. She pinned it to herself, and then ran to the convenience store across the street. Once inside, she headed for a door marked "EMPLOYEES ONLY" as the person behind the counter yelled at her. She opened the door, and... the memory stopped.

"Fuck! There it goes again. The memories just cut out."

Katrin was frowning, deep in thought, but Errod was already heading out into the Long Haul Hotel. I followed him to the conspiracy cork board, and he began looking over the part about these memories. "Okay," he said, "this was clearly very close to the end of things. The one where you burned the book and then got attacked by Greg is the only one you'd say is after this, right?"

I nodded. "Yes, for sure. It goes... I got the brooch, then Zoey streamed something about the book and got the attention of Coelestis, and then they offered me money, and then they came for me at school and Zoey got killed, somehow. Then I raided the vault, then I burned the book and Greg caught me at Universal Servicing Systems. There's only a few gaps, and some of those don't matter. I'm a little curious how I knew there was a vault in the basement, but it probably won't change much. Knowing the mundane parts of Greg's security was, honestly, probably because I was planning to rob him for being an asshole. But I don't know how or why I arranged to meet with that agent in the alley, that seemed like a planned thing. And I don't know what happened after Greg got me."

Katrin took a deep breath. "I think... I think I know what happened. It's a bit of a long shot. Can we look at the last part, right before Greg tried to kill you?"

We stepped back into the hall and into the memory. There I was, tied up in ropes of magical energy. Greg had his hand on my head. "Where is the golden brooch?"

I squirmed, attempting to say something rude, and then blurted out, "I don't know. I lost it. I was going to go look for it after this."

He grunted. "And when you stole from my vault, did you take more than the memory device and the boots?"

I tried to squeeze my lips shut, but the word came out anyway. "No."

Greg looked satisfied. "Who have you told about all this?"

"Nobody," I said.

Greg's eyebrow went up. "Not even William?"

"No."

He asked if I'd written anything down anywhere, and I shook my head before mumbling that there was something in my pocket. He pulled a note out past the magical bands and read it. "Destroy device, burn book, find brooch, run away to Scotland. Hmm. A harmless enough note, especially with no context. Anything else?"

I struggled again, lips trying to form other words, but I just said no. Katrin signaled for me to pause the vision, and turned to me with a smile. "Yes... I think I'm right. You told him you lost the brooch back in the vault as well, but you clearly still had it. You were lying to him then, and you were lying to him now. In fact we know that, because you also said you didn't take anything else from the vault but we saw you take that bracelet. I'd bet it's still around your ankle, that's probably how you survived his attack."

I nodded. "Okay. Sure. But if he was using magic to make me tell the truth... oh. Oh. Okay, I see what you're saying."

Errod shook his head. "I think I missed a step, personally."

Katrin grinned. "She erased her own memory. Before destroying that device. She must have stashed the brooch somewhere, probably with a whole thing explaining what had happened." She turned to me. "I assume you just couldn't think of another way out, and figured you could let him wipe your memory and then re-learn what was going on. Although... having the bracelet on would ruin that, if he found it he would know you'd been lying."

I poked at the memory of myself, lifting each pant leg. "I don't see it here. That could just be the memory being inaccurate, of course. If I removed my own knowledge of it... though I'd still feel it, wouldn't I? I didn't ever wear a lot of jewelry, I feel like I'd know if there was something on my leg."

We weren't going to know for sure, not without recovering more memories, but it was a good theory to go with for now. It was exactly the kind of trick I'd pull. Hell, I'd done something similar when Hammersmith had me locked up - although in that case I had an easy way of recovering everything, whereas back when I was on Earth I would have been fully wiping out my memories. As I thought about it, the scene around us flickered.

Errod looked around. "Does anyone else taste that? Something... cold, and sweet?"

Katrin nodded. "Yes. Just for a second. Like... sweet cream, maybe, but some other ingredient in there."

"Sorry," I said, "I was just suddenly craving a milkshake. It's an Earth thing, we'll have some when we go there."

"You've mentioned them before," Errod said, "but your stray thoughts don't normally come out like that. It did happen one other time that I can think of - it was my first time in your memory palace, and you were showing me around and talking about how it works. And... at some point there was this unusual smell, and you said you weren't sure why it happened."

"Ah. Well, I don't remember what would have brought that up, but I know what the bleach thing is now. Just some random trauma from my high school bully trying to kill me by splashing chemicals on me and locking me in a closet."

"Okay," Errod said, "and so is there maybe something traumatic with a milkshake?"

Hmm. "There was a place I went on my birthday..."

Katrin perked up. "The diner? The one that appeared around us just the other day, that you said you'd look into?"

Ah. Right. "Yeah, same one. So... there's almost certainly something going on there. I was actually going to go there the day I got yanked into this world, you got a free milkshake on your birthday."

"Where was it?" Errod asked.

"It was... uh. I don't know. I don't remember. I was there on my seventeenth birthday, let me see if I can call that memory up."

It took a few tries, but eventually something clicked. I was walking down the sidewalk, sweating and looking miserable, and up ahead there was the diner. It looked... wrong. It was like the things outside my direct view, where they swam around and shifted like a bad AI video. Also... it was the same street as the self storage place Greg ran. No, not just the same street. The same spot. I walked inside, and it was clearly a fifties-style diner, all chrome and vinyl.

I tried to imagine where I had to be, if I was actually in the self storage place. I was pretty sure the counter I was walking up to was Greg's desk. I leaned against it and pulled out my ID, and the waiter came over. He was old, and cranky, and... probably Greg. "What can I do for you, miss?"

"It's my birthday," I said, "and I want my free milkshake."

He nodded, and put a glass down in front of me. It was one of those tall sundae glasses, and it was filled to the brim with perfect-looking chocolate milkshake. I didn't seem to question how he'd had it ready so quickly. I took a sip through the straw, and grimaced. "Uh. it's warm."

The waiter rolled his eyes. "It's nice and cold, miss. See?"

It did look nice and cold. But it hadn't tasted that way. It had tasted like warm tap water. I took another sip, and it was still wrong. I made a face, started to push it away, but the waiter took my hand.

"It's cold," he said, "cold and refreshing." When that word cold came out of his mouth, something rippled. I stared at the milkshake for a moment, then cautiously took a sip. It was nice and cold. Of course it was. Cold and refreshing. For just a second the memory flickered, to Errod and I sitting in a tavern, but it snapped back. The waiter nodded, satisfied, and started wiping down some glasses. "So, child. It's been some time. Have you seen anything... interesting? Anything you want to tell me about?"

I shook my head, mechanically.

"Good. Your hair is messed up, let me straighten it for you." He placed his hands on my head and the memory rippled violently, walls falling apart and coming back together. Behind them I could see the self storage office, but even those walls felt like they might blow away any second. After a moment he pulled his hands away. "Very good. All tidy. Ah, it seems your milkshake is gone."

I looked down, confused. I'd only taken a few sips, but the glass was empty.

"You must have enjoyed that very much," he said, "you'll have to come back again next year."

I nodded, and then walked back out.

"Well, okay. That's... not a shocker, I guess. We'd talked about the fact that someone would have had to be maintaining the false memories, so an annual birthday milkshake makes sense. Since it looked like a diner in my memory that means that's how I perceived it in the moment, so Greg must have put some instructions in me ahead of time. Programmed me to see the place as a diner, or something. That's pretty fucked up."

Katrin put a hand on my shoulder. Uh-oh. She was about to gently break some fucked-up news to me, wasn't she?

"You... said you went to that diner before, though. Right? With Bill?"

Ah. There it was. The other shoe. "I... yeah, I went there with him after I freaked out about a foster placement when I was fourteen. Probably that's where Greg got the memory from."

"Or... Bill was involved in this whole thing, and that was also a false memory."

I didn't really want to think about that. Bill was... Bill. He did tons of charity stuff, and he'd been my only really great case worker, and he... he wouldn't have been involved with that sort of thing. Still, I wasn't going to avoid checking. It was easy enough to find the memory of going to that foster home, right before the diner. I managed to start the memory after the talk we'd had about giving her a shot, and about what a great house it was, and all that shit. Bill had been gentle as always, not pushing me so hard that I reflexively ran while also making it clear he really wanted me to try.

He knocked on the door, and the woman answered - she looked like a bit of a hippy, someone that probably did a lot of drugs when she was older but now had turned respectable and sold quirky hand-made potholders at the farmer's market or something. She smiled and greeted me without being condescending, shook Bill's hand, and then walked into the house. Bill followed, and I... froze. I could feel it, that barrier. I took a shaky step forward but then immediately stepped back, out onto the front porch.

Bill turned back to face me. "Calliope, you okay?"

I shook my head. "I'm not allowed in there." I said, quietly.

His brow furrowed in concern, and then he turned and said something to the prospective foster parent - I didn't catch what. He came out and crouched down a little so we'd be at eye level with each other, not something he did often, and smiled. "Hey. It's fine. Are you okay? Do you know what's bothering you?"

I shook my head. "My mom, she used to... she told me I couldn't go in her room, and it just feels like... I don't know. It's... maybe I don't want to stay at this stupid fucking house. Maybe you don't need to try and find some... some dumb bitch that wants to play pretend and act like she's saving the poor orphan. I'm fine at the group home, or on my own. Fuck, you make it sound like some lottery I've won - I get to have my own bedroom? Let me just do some backflips or something for that huge fucking honor."

My rant was transparently fake - hell, I was starting to cry. It was ridiculous. Bill just nodded. "Okay. I get it. You don't have to. Let's get some lunch, how about that?"

He went in and talked to her for a minute while I got back in his car, but rather than continuing the memory and seeing the diner I rewound it to the moment I failed to enter the adorable little house that Bill was so proud of finding for me. This time I watched his face. He looked at me, genuinely confused, asking if I was okay. I said I wasn't allowed inside. And then... there it was. He looked up at the doorframe for a split second before looking back at me, and his eyes were wide.

He recovered quickly, I had to give that to him. But a normal person, a person that didn't know magic was real, wouldn't have thought to look for a horseshoe. Bill had known what I was, in that moment. And he quit being a case manager that very day.

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