The message arrived at 3:17.

  Kaelan saw it blinking on the phone in the darkness of the room and took a second to realize he hadn’t dreamed it.

  Kiba: Are you awake?

  Kaelan: Yes.

  Kiba: Can I come up?

  They had been living in the same apartment building for weeks now, which was still a fact Kaelan hadn’t fully processed. Logistical convenience, Sona had said when she arranged it. Kaelan suspected there had been more behind the calculation, but he hadn’t asked.

  He replied.

  Kiba arrived with damp hair and a cup of cold tea he had clearly prepared some time ago and forgotten to drink. He set it on the table without comment and sat on the edge of the couch as if he weren’t sure he intended to stay.

  Kaelan waited.

  —Did you know it was going to happen? —Kiba asked finally.— The bridge. The Excalibur. What happened at Galilei.

  It was the question he had to ask sooner or later. Kaelan had expected it since the day after the bridge.

  —I knew Excalibur was going to appear in Kuoh —Kaelan answered.— I knew the Church’s exorcists would try to control it. I knew you had history with it.

  —And the laboratory?

  A pause.

  —I knew in general terms. Not every detail.

  Kiba nodded.

  It wasn’t a gesture of relief.

  It was the gesture of someone confirming something he had already known but needed to hear out loud.

  —Then why didn’t you say anything before?

  It was the correct question.

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  It was also the question Kaelan had avoided asking himself, because the answer was uncomfortable.

  —Because what I know comes from a story. And stories only make full sense when they end. I’m in the middle of it. If I had intervened before the pieces were in place, I didn’t know what I might break.

  Kiba looked at him.

  —What if the cost of not intervening had been me?

  —That cost would have been unacceptable.

  —But you didn’t know.

  —Not with certainty.

  Silence.

  The white cat appeared from the bedroom, assessed the situation, and decided to settle between them on the couch with the pragmatic indifference of someone who lives with complicated people and is no longer surprised by them.

  —It’s not the same —Kiba said after a moment.

  —What isn’t?

  —What you know and what I carry. —He paused.— You have information about something that hasn’t happened yet. I have memories of something I can’t change. Those are two different kinds of weight.

  Kaelan considered that.

  —Yes.

  —Yours paralyzes you because you don’t want to be wrong. Mine pushes me because I can’t stop. —Kiba looked at the cat, not at Kaelan.— We’re both prisoners of something that happened before we ever decided anything.

  Kaelan didn’t answer immediately.

  There was something exact about that.

  Too exact to be comfortable.

  —When I arrived in this world —he said at last— the first thing I thought about was not touching anything. Let the story happen without me. —A pause.— It didn’t work. The Resonance activated before I could decide to stay still.

  —And now?

  —Now I know I can’t stay still. But I still don’t know when intervening does more good than harm.

  Kiba nodded slowly.

  —I know when I have to act. What I don’t know is when to stop.

  They both sat with that in silence for a while.

  The cat purred.

  —What are you going to do? —Kaelan asked.

  —What I have to do. —Kiba looked at him.— With or without the canon.

  —I know.

  —And you?

  Kaelan thought about the dead in the laboratory.

  About what he had felt filtering through the Resonance from Kiba’s memories.

  About the question of whether knowing something will happen makes you responsible for what follows if you don’t act.

  —I’ll be where I need to be —he answered.

  It wasn’t an epic promise.

  It was the only honest answer he had.

  Kiba stood up. He picked up the cold tea he had never drunk.

  —The club meeting is tomorrow —he said.

  —I know.

  —Sona is going to ask questions.

  —I know that too.

  Kiba nodded once. He went to the door and stopped without turning around.

  —Thanks for not telling me not to do it.

  Kaelan looked at him.

  —It wouldn’t have helped.

  Kiba let out something that in another circumstance might have been a laugh.

  —No. Not at all.

  He left.

  The cat looked at Kaelan with the expression of an animal that had heard far too much and would not be telling anyone.

  Kaelan turned off the light and stayed awake for a while longer, thinking about the fact that Kiba’s arc had an ending he already knew.

  And that knowing it did not make it any easier to watch it coming.