Page 141 of Lana Pecherczyk
My Midnight Prince,
The thought of you fills every quiet moment. When you’re gone, I trace the constellation patterns we learned together. I pretend we’re still flying above the trees. Father grows more suspicious each day. But he can’t cage my spirit—it soars with you, always.
Forever, Your Star Gazer
River’s chest constricted. Another note waited:
Hey, You,
Meet me at our usual spot. Father’s guards change shift at midnight. They’re so clueless. It’s almost too easy. I’ve learned a new trick with mana that will make you smile.
– Love, Me.
“They wrote love letters. That’s so cute.” Blake touched the wall.
“Cute?” he snarled. “She manipulated him from the start.”
“I don’t…” Blake’s voice softened. “You still haven’t told me the details. Not really.”
Rage roared in his ears, choking his response. He strode deeper into the trove, each discovery a fresh wound. Thesemementos aligned with Cloud’s happiest moments, including River’s first draft sketch of their triad tattoo on a tavern napkin.
The farther he went into the trove, the heavier the air became with blood, mold, urine, and decay. White, spindly shapes covered the far wall. River’s lungs fought for air, but he pressed on. He had to see. If only to understand, to know the path of madness, especially if he wanted any hope of avoiding it himself. But there were too many letters, too many notes written in Cloud’s handwriting on the wall. And over it all, in any free gap, more words that made no sense. Fly. Trees. Seas. Away. Please.
A flash of red caught his eye, stopping his heart.
He moved to the wall like a moth to a flame, his hand landing beside a picture frame without glass. The empty chalk outline of a shape was inside. Something cylindrical he recognized should have been there. The cryptex. He knew it with all certainty because in its place was the ruby Cloud pilfered from the Collector. River thought they’d spent that on clothes for Ash. But perhaps he’d assumed. Maybe Cloud, a master thief by that stage, had funded the new wardrobe from his own pocket.
Below the frame in UV ink:I fucked up.
Chapter
Forty-Four
Cloud’s admission of guilt didn’t make sense until River read another letter in Rory’s handwriting.
Cielo,
These walls feel closer than ever since Father’s first treatment. I ache with phantom pain. My head is filled with clouds. I fear he took something more precious than wings. But last night … you gave me the sky, Cielo. Not just to look at, but to touch. When we soared past the city walls, past the seas, over the trees—I finally understood what freedom tastes like.
The Milky Way spread before us like a road to forever. Mars burned red with possibility. I know you blame yourself for Father’s punishment. Don’t. That moment we became one beneath the stars? How theyshimmered like diamonds? Worth every scar. Worth every pain.
The guards watch closer now, but I won’t let them take what we shared. He doesn’t know that I’m learning to be better than him. He thinks he’s a step ahead. But we flew high. I saw everything differently from the sky.
Every star holds our secret. Every breeze carries my heart to you.
Yours,
Aurora
“What is that?” Awe in Blake’s tone drew River’s attention.
Something deeper in the trove caught the blue light. A skeletal structure, delicate and precise, dangled from the ceiling. Not bones, but preserved wood meticulously crafted to mimic the curves and joints of wings.
“That’s…” He stepped closer, examining the intricate mechanism.
“Leonardo da Vinci’s flying machine,” Blake whispered, joining him. She ran her fingers along the framework’s base. “It’s a working replica, but modified. See how he’s reinforced the joints with something that looks like sinew instead of canvas?” Her eyes narrowed as she leaned closer. “It’s stretchy. Maybe some kind of glue or latex. Clever.”
River’s brow furrowed. “Who’s Leonardo?”
