Page 147 of Heart of Thieves

I uncurl my fingers. A long golden chain like the one still around my neck nestles in my palm bearing a new piece of voratium pulsing with light the exact shade of green in Enzo’s eyes. I press my thumb against it.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.

“A bit of soullight from my heart,” he says. “Should you ever need it.”

Tears film over my eyes as I throw my arms around his neck.

I’ll always miss his heart pumping next to mine, the way he could send me fortitude when I felt weak, the way he’d come when I called.

And now here it is. His love, without bargain, without collateral, without price.

“There’s also something else.” He pulls away and hands me the folder.

I take off my glasses to scrub the moisture from my lashes as I flip it open.

Inside are all the journals he’d been studying. The lab notes. The diagrams and drawings and poetry that saved our lives in the end. Nell Lightsworn’s things.

My mother’s things.

At the bottom of the stack lies a copy of the photograph from my father’s office—my parents, immortalized in faded black-and-white— clipped to what appears to be a handwritten letter.

“That letter was in your father’s desk,” Enzo says. “From eighteen years ago.”

I pull it out and read:

Magnus,

How is our sweet Lola doing? Stars, but I miss her terribly. Please give her kisses from me. It is torturous to be away from her—away from you both. The missing is bone-deep, and sometimes it’s all I can do to keep from crying.

It’s difficult to be so far away, but it seems that sailing out here to Plithon was the right choice, because I’ve been able to locate the priest I heard about. You remember me talking about him in my last letter, right? The one whose research I studied in order to create the shard? He, too, has been suffering similar symptoms, which confirms what we theorized.

I’m hoping that, between the two of us, we’ll be able to come up with a solution that will stop the lumonic decay. Hopefully soon, because I’m desperate to see you again, my love, and to hold our girl.

All my love,

Nell

Sounds like she was suffering from some sort of issue brought on by her work with the moonshard—perhaps side effects of having been altered by the starlight. Could she still be out there somewhere, searching for a cure?

“Thank you.” I pull Enzo close again. “For everything.”

“That isn’t everything.”

“Oh?”

“If you ever decide you want to be fully free—to not have to share your heart with anyone . . .” He licks his lips. “Just give me the word. I’ll make Nic a new heart. You can have yours all to yourself.”

“Oh,” I say again, a pit gnawing open in my stomach. “That’s . . . I see. I’ll . . . think about it.”

“Okay, Lemonade,” he says, pushing to his feet. “You let me know.”

I venture ashore a few hours later, following the tether in my heart to the Liar’s Den Casino.

Nic crouches on the floor where we danced during his tournament, blueprints and diagrams spread around him.

“Hello, little thief,” he says without looking up.

“Hello, sparkly bastard,” I reply, kneeling next to him. “What are you doing?”