Flashback ( PDFDrive )

“This sounds like a game,” Keefe warned as Fitz’s arm shook,
forcing him to adjust his grip on the dagger. At some point he’d lost
the bandage Sophie had made for him, and his hand looked slippery
and red.
“No game,” Gethen insisted, stepping closer, the light from the
force field making his stare more piercing as it bored into Fitz. “Just a
simple question. If I’m telling the truth—if Alvar’s the key—then how
are you going to stop him from fulfilling his role?”
“I’M NOT PLAYING A ROLE!” Alvar screamed.
“He’s good, isn’t he?” Gethen asked.
“He’s not pretending,” Sophie assured Fitz. “Alvar still doesn’t have
any of his memories—I just checked.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Gethen argued, keeping his eyes locked on Fitz.
“You know how we work. You know how carefully we plan things.
You think we can’t pull the strings to make what we need happen,
with or without Alvar knowing?”
“I’ll never help you!” Alvar swore.
“You already have. You met us out here, didn’t you? And that made
your brother and all his friends rush over.” Gethen smiled as Fitz
sucked in a breath. “I bet you had to drag everyone here, didn’t you,
Fitz? And even now—as we’re talking—they still refuse to see what
you do, don’t they? Look at your sister.”
Fitz did, and Biana looked . . . torn—her eyes mostly on the knife in
Fitz’s bleeding hand.
“So the question is,” Gethen continued, “what are you going to do
about it, Fitz? How do you stop the inevitable, when no one else will?”
Fitz straightened up. “I’ll knock Alvar out.”