The Forest of the Forgotten

The wallet felt foreign in Ellie's palm—thin leather worn smooth by countless hands, containing rectangular plastic cards and green paper bills that meant nothing to Amnity but everything to the world around them.

"I can't believe you just did that," Amnity whispered, her voice barely audible over the street noise. They'd moved three blocks away from the businessman whose pocket Ellie had so deftly emptied, her fingers moving with a skill that surprised them both.

Ellie stared down at the bills, counting them with an expertise she didn't remember learning. "Twenty, forty, sixty... eighty-seven dollars." The numbers came naturally, as if she'd been counting this currency her entire life. "It should be enough for... for whatever we need."

"How did you know how to do that?" Amnity's eyes were wide, watching Ellie fold the money with practiced ease. "That wasn't magic. That was just... skill."

Ellie tucked the cash into her pocket, hearing Eleazar's patient voice from years ago echo in her mind:

Light fingers, quick eyes, Ellie. Sometimes survival requires taking what we need from those who have more than enough.

She'd always assumed he'd been teaching her skills for their adventures in Nova, for emergencies when they traveled to dangerous places. She'd never considered that maybe he'd been preparing her to return to a world where those skills were necessary for basic survival.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "Instinct, maybe."

The smell hit them before they saw the source—rich and dark and bitter-sweet, wafting from a storefront with a green circular logo that made Ellie's chest tighten with inexplicable longing.

"What is that?" Amnity asked, wrinkling her nose. "It smells... intense."

"Coffee," Ellie said automatically, then paused. She could taste the word, could almost feel the warmth of a ceramic mug in her hands. "It's... a drink. People here drink it."

The interior of the Starbucks was a sensory assault after the gentle tea houses of Nova. Everything was sharp angles and bright lights, the hiss and gurgle of machines that looked like they belonged in an alchemist's laboratory. People sat hunched over laptops, fingers flying over keyboards, or stood in a serpentine line that moved with mechanical efficiency.

Amnity pressed closer to Ellie's side as they joined the queue. "It's so loud," she murmured. "And why is everyone staring at those glowing rectangles?"

But Ellie was transfixed by the menu board above the counter—a bewildering array of words that somehow made perfect sense to her. Venti, grande, tall. Macchiato, americano, frappuccino. Each word came with a ghost of flavor, a phantom memory of sweetness and caffeine and mornings that started before the sun rose.

"Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get started for you?" The barista's practiced smile was as bright and artificial as the lights overhead.

Ellie stared at the menu, the words swimming in front of her eyes. Something about the smell of this place, the sounds, made her feel like she should know what to order, but she had no idea what any of it meant. "Um... coffee?" she said uncertainly. "Just... regular coffee?"

"What size? And would you like room for cream?"

"Medium?" Ellie guessed, glancing at Amnity helplessly. "And... yes?"

The barista's gaze flicked to Amnity, taking in her out-of-place hiking clothing and the way she was staring at the espresso machine like it might attack her.

"I..." Amnity looked helplessly at the menu. "What's a... cake pop?"

"It's cake. On a stick. Very sweet," the barista explained with the patience of someone who'd answered stranger questions.

"I'll try that," Amnity said quickly.

Ellie handed over two of the stolen twenties, and the change that came back felt natural in her palm—the weight and feel of coins she'd handled countless times before.

They found seats in the corner, Amnity perched on the edge of her chair like she might need to run at any moment. When their order was called, Ellie retrieved it with the confidence of someone who'd done this a thousand times.

The first sip of the coffee made Ellie's face scrunch up immediately.

"Oh," she said, blinking rapidly at the bitter taste. "That's... really strong."

But even as she set the cup down, something nagged at her. Not the taste—that was harsh and unfamiliar—but the smell. The rich, dark aroma that filled her nostrils felt like safety somehow, like being small and sleepy and curled up somewhere warm while adults talked in low voices nearby.

"You don't like it?" Amnity asked, watching Ellie's confused expression.

"It's not that," Ellie said slowly, picking up the cup again and inhaling deeply. "The smell is... familiar. But not like I've tasted it before. More like..." She struggled for the words. "Like I used to fall asleep to this smell. Does that make sense?"

Amnity bit into her cake pop and made a small sound of surprise at the sweetness, but her eyes never left Ellie's face. "The Glowing Imp Root?"

Ellie shook her head. "No, this is different. This isn't a memory being unlocked, this is... muscle memory. Like my body remembers even when my mind doesn't." She picked up the cup again, inhaling the familiar scent. "Eleazar always said I adapted to new situations unusually quickly. But what if it wasn't adaptation at all? What if I was just... remembering?"

The admission hung between them, as heavy as the espresso-scented air. Around them, the Starbucks hummed with laptop keyboards and muffled conversations, a soundtrack that felt as natural to Ellie as the forest sounds of Nova.

"Wait," Ellie said suddenly, reaching for her bag. "The mirrors. I still have Eleazar's traveling mirrors." She rummaged through her pack, pushing past herbs and supplies until her fingers found the familiar weight of the small, ornate folded mirrors that she had retrieved from Amnity yesterday. Its silver surface caught the bright Starbucks lighting as she pulled it out. "We don't have to stay here if we don't want to. We can go back to Nova anytime."

Amnity's shoulders sagged with visible relief. "Oh, thank the stars," she breathed. "I thought we were trapped here forever."

But Ellie found herself staring at the mirror's surface, not activating its magic. Outside the windows, the city moved past in its endless rhythm, and somewhere in its vastness were the answers to questions she was only beginning to know how to ask. The question was: did she want to find those answers, or return to the safety of the only home she remembered?