Flashback ( PDFDrive )

“We’re playing games?” Fitz snapped.
“Of course you are. You think I don’t realize you’re sitting there
trying to keep me distracted so I won’t notice that someone’s trying to
slip into my mind—and not doing a very good job, I might add, so I’m
guessing it’s you,” he said to Fitz. “You think I didn’t plan on you
coming here with all sorts of ridiculous plans for how to steal my
memories? I can assure you—you won’t learn anything that way. Not
even you, Sophie. But if you want to know what I’m thinking, all you
need to do is ask.”
“Right,” Fitz scoffed. “So you can feed us a bunch of lies?”
“Actually”—he leaned back as far as he could on his block of ice,
like he was attempting to get more comfortable yet looking anything
but—“today I’m prepared to offer some vital truth.”
Sophie laughed. “You expect us to believe that?”
“No. But I expect you to believe that I invited you here because I
want something from you. Surely you’ve already assumed that much.
Just like I can assume you’ll never give it to me for free. So . . . I’m
willing to offer a trade—and it’s the deal of the century for you,
because I happen to have some valuable information about what you’ll
soon be facing.” He studied their faces, clicking his tongue. “Such
jaded skepticism from elves so young. Though I suppose I can’t truly
blame you, given how many times you’ve lost—and whom you’ve lost.”
Part of Sophie wanted Mr. Forkle to step forward right then and
shout, “DO YOU MEAN ME?”
But they didn’t need anything so drastic. Not when she could turn
to Fitz and say, “I told you this would be pointless.”
And Fitz could nod and start to stand.