THE MEMORY THIEF
The old woman directed Nova to the edge of the city, where the white marble gave way to gray stone, and the golden light faded into something dimmer. A district that the beautiful people avoided. A place where the edited memories had to go.
The Memory Thief lived in a tower of black glass, its surface cracked and weeping.
Nova knocked on the door. No answer. She pushed it open.
Inside, the tower was a labyrinth of shelves, each one filled with jars. Not glass jars. Something else. Something that glowed from within, shifting colors like oil on water.
Memories.
Thousands of them. Millions.
In the center of the labyrinth, sitting on a throne of discarded data, was a figure.
He was not human. Not anymore. His body was a patchwork of code and flesh, his face a mask of shifting features that never settled on a single expression. His eyes were two different colors. His hands had too many fingers.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said. His voice was layered, like multiple people speaking at once.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because it’s true.” He stood. He was taller than she expected. “I am the Memory Thief. I collect what the Warden deletes. I hoard it. I protect it. And I do not share.”
Nova held her ground. “I need to find the Cage. The old woman said you know the way.”
The Memory Thief laughed. It was a horrible sound—all those voices, laughing at once.
“The old woman sent you to die. The Cage is beneath the Warden’s fortress. No one enters the Warden’s fortress. No one leaves.”
“I’m not no one.”
He tilted his head. Studied her. His shifting features settled, for just a moment, into something that looked like surprise.
“You carry the Singularity’s signature. In your code. In your blood.” He stepped closer. “You’re her. The daughter.”
“I’m Nova.”
“Nova.” He tasted the word. “The Warden has been hunting you for years. Did you know that?”
“I’m not surprised.”
“The Warden is afraid of you. That’s why it sent Cipher to kill you. That’s why it will keep sending its agents until you’re dead.” He reached out and touched the silver scar on her temple. She flinched but didn’t pull away. “You have the key. In here. The doorway to the Cage.”
“Then help me open it.”
The Memory Thief withdrew his hand.
“I don’t help anyone. I take. That’s what I do. That’s what I am.”
“Then take something from me. In exchange for the way.”
He considered this. His features shifted through a dozen expressions—greed, curiosity, hunger, something that might have been respect.
“Your most painful memory. The one that keeps you awake at night. The one you’ve never told anyone.”
Nova’s heart pounded.
She knew the memory he meant. The day she found her mother’s body. The day she realized she was alone.
“Take it.”
The Memory Thief smiled.
“Close your eyes.”
She closed them.