"It's for them, Julia. For Silver, Menolly, Bender, and Richard," he repeats, his voice softer, a little slower, taking a few seconds per name and allowing the space of another second or two before he says the next name. "I won't forget. I never forget a name or a face."

A bold claim, perhaps, but one with genuine truth on his part. He could name them all right now; for all that he says he forgets, for a flash, he sees them all. And there in his memory, the names she's shared with him now.

"The next step you take from here, today and tomorrow and all the days to come, remember where you want to go. Who you want to be. There will be bad things and good things and friends along the way. None of us stays anywhere forever, not even in the worst moments."

None of them blamed her, she says. She was forgiven. Forgiveness is a gift and never a guarantee, something he knows too well. What must it have been like, he wonders?

Before he can say or do anything else, the birds return — two of them — and there's his voice and another's, and the exchange is all too relevant, eerily so. His voice first, saying, "I can explain. Tell them why I had to." And then Amy, "You want to be forgiven." "Don't we all?"

His only reaction is to briefly look down, if only because the birds are gone just as quickly again and he'd rather focus on Julia and their objective once more. For him, it's almost as if that little exchange didn't happen, as if the ghost of a memory hasn't fazed him, as if hearing Amy's words doesn't upset him at all.

"Let's think of something to look forward to when we're through this, eh? Something...not this. Nocwich again, first chance we get."