For three heartbeats after Rhydian said someone was killing the moon, Nessa forgot to be furious about the theft of her heart.

Then she remembered.

"Give it back anyway."

The Midnight Auction remained frozen around them. Silver cards hung motionless above the stage. Candle flames stood rigid as painted glass. Hundreds of masked patrons had become statues in expensive clothing.

The impossible glimpse of Vespera's real sky was gone. The auction hall's artificial moon hung overhead once more, flawless and silver, as though Nessa had imagined the dark fracture she had seen across the true moon only seconds earlier.

Except the floor was still trembling.

And somewhere beneath the city, an enormous chain had just broken.

Rhydian glanced around the motionless chamber.

"This isn't me."

"What isn't you?"

"The stopped time."

Nessa looked at the glowing script circling her wrist.

HEART CLAIMED.

DEBT RECOGNIZED.

KEEPER: RHYDIAN NOCT.

"You are literally labeled as the Keeper."

"Keeper does not mean thief."

"It does when you have my heart inside your chest."

"Your heart-spark," he said carefully. "Your physical heart is still functioning."

"Thank you. I was worried I might need it."

The lunar circle beneath their feet pulsed.

Time slammed forward.

Sound returned all at once.

Silver cards finished falling. Guests shouted. Chairs scraped backward. The candles, which had frozen when the contract halted the hall, flickered violently as their flames resumed moving. Somewhere below came a grinding metallic boom that shook dust from the balconies.

Lady Mirelle Vaunt struck her silver hammer against the podium.

"The Auction is suspended."

No one moved.

She struck it again.

"That was not a request."

Black doors appeared around the circular hall. Patrons surged toward them, aristocratic dignity losing a brief but decisive battle against survival.

Nessa pushed toward the stage.

"Mirelle."

The auctioneer removed her crescent mask.

Without it, she looked less theatrical and more dangerous.

"Not now."

"My brother has less than an hour before your company removes nine years from his lifespan. It is extremely now."

Mirelle's gaze fell to Nessa's marked wrist.

Nessa climbed onto the stage.

"Cancel his debt."

"I cannot erase a purchased financial obligation because you shout at me."

"Then postpone it because your auction nearly murdered me, stole my heart, exposed an ancient contract, and apparently coincided with part of the city breaking loose."

Mirelle's mouth tightened.

That argument, at least, had substance.

Rhydian stepped closer but remained several paces from Nessa.

"Someone tampered with your auction," he said. "Until we know whether Quill's recalled debt was part of that manipulation, collecting it destroys evidence."

Mirelle looked at him sharply.

Nessa seized the opening.

"You bought Tavi's debt for no reason I understand, recalled it tonight, and somehow the same night I was driven into an auction where someone tried to kill me. If his debt has nothing to do with this, prove it after he still has all his years."

For several seconds Mirelle said nothing.

Then she reached into one sleeve.

A silver card floated into her palm.

Words burned across it.

TAVI QUILL: COMPULSORY COLLECTION STAYED PENDING INTERNAL INVESTIGATION.

NO VITAL CHRONOLOGY TO BE EXTRACTED WITHOUT RENEWED NOTICE.

"Vaunt Holdings has discretion to suspend collection on assets under dispute," Mirelle said. "I am exercising it. Do not mistake caution for generosity."

Nessa snatched the card.

"I would never accuse you of generosity."

She tucked it into the inner pocket of her dress beside the six forged memory crystals she had brought from home.

One disaster delayed.

Approximately six hundred remained.

"Now remove this contract."

Mirelle's expression changed.

"I can't."

Nessa laughed once.

"That sentence is becoming fashionable tonight."

Rhydian's gaze shifted to the auction ledger beside the podium.

"You recognized the contract."

"I recognized what it was becoming."

"You shouted for it to be stopped."

"Knowing a blade is falling does not mean one knows how to catch it."

Nessa pointed at her wrist. "What exactly owns me?"

"Nothing owns you," Mirelle said.

"Excellent start. Continue."

Mirelle approached the ledger.

"It is a lunar surety contract. Ancient. Older than the Council's present legal structure, perhaps older than Vespera in its current form. It pledges emotional essence against an acknowledged debt."

"I acknowledged nothing to Rhydian."

"No," Rhydian said quietly. "You didn't."

The ledger's black pages began turning by themselves.

They stopped at Lot Seven.

Nessa leaned closer.

The thirteen-year bid remained recorded. Beneath it appeared the aristocratic identity she had used to enter.

BARONESS ELIANOR VEY.

The ink trembled.

The letters rearranged.

NESSA QUILL.

Nessa's stomach tightened.

Below it appeared another line.

BID: HEART-SPARK.

CLAIMANT—

Nothing followed.

The paper had been gouged so deeply that the missing line scarred several pages beneath it.

Mirelle went very still.

"That damage was not present before bidding began."

Nessa stared at her. "Your enchanted ledger was altered without you noticing?"

"It records authorized auction conditions. It does not create them."

Rhydian hovered his fingers over the gouged paper without touching it.

"Someone attached an older contract to Lot Seven."

"Yes."

"And removed the named claimant."

"Apparently."

Nessa pointed at him. "Yet my heart chose him."

"Transferred to him," Mirelle corrected.

"I promise you the distinction is not improving my evening."

Rhydian's expression darkened.

"If the named claimant was removed, the contract must have contained a secondary selection condition."

Mirelle's silence lasted half a heartbeat too long.

Nessa noticed.

"What condition?"

"I don't know."

Mirelle lied beautifully.

Unfortunately for her, Nessa manufactured false memories for a living. She knew concealment when she heard it.

"You purchased my brother's debt," Nessa said. "You recalled it tonight. Lot Seven appeared earlier than I expected. Someone tried to slit my throat during the blackout. Then an ancient contract hidden inside your ledger knew my real identity and handed my heart to the Keeper of Lost Hours."

Mirelle's expression became perfectly smooth.

"Choose your accusation carefully."

"Choose your next answer carefully."

A tremor struck the hall.

A crack raced across the marble stage.

Outside, bells began ringing across Vespera.

Not moonbells.

Alarm bells.

Rhydian crossed to the balcony rail. He touched two fingers to a silver sigil embedded in the wall.

The black surface dissolved into transparency.

The real city appeared beyond it.

Nessa ran to the opening.

Vespera glittered above the luminous cloud sea beneath its true moon.

The fracture was still there.

A dark line cut across the lunar surface.

Moonlifts hung motionless between districts. Crowds filled suspended streets. Far below the auction quarter, one colossal silver Anchor chain ended in a jagged break, its severed lower portion vanishing into glowing mist.

Worse, a familiar cluster of iron platforms had begun to tilt.

Lantern Row.

Nessa's breath stopped.

"Tavi."

She turned toward the nearest exit.

"Nessa," Rhydian said.

She ignored him.

He moved into her path without touching her.

"Get out of my way."

"If Lantern Row were falling freely, you would already see it descending."

"That is an extraordinarily poor attempt at comfort."

"It isn't comfort. It's observation. Something is still supporting the district. We have minutes, perhaps longer, but running blindly through halted moonlifts will not reach your brother faster."

Nessa wanted to shove him aside.

She did not feel compelled to move closer to him. His presence did not create desire out of nothing. He was simply infuriating, inconvenient, and standing between her and the door.

That almost felt reassuring.

Almost.

Mirelle closed the ledger behind them.

"There is something else you should understand about the contract."

Nessa did not look away from Lantern Row.

"Unless it tells me how to reach my brother, I currently hate it."

"Romantic attachment formed while the surety remains active will orient toward the Keeper."

That made Nessa look at her.

"Define orient."

"If you develop romantic feelings, the contract can redirect or amplify them toward Rhydian. It cannot command obedience. It cannot create trust, friendship, consent, or physical action. Nor does touching him automatically produce attraction."

Nessa slowly turned toward Rhydian.

He had already put more distance between them.

"Did you know?"

"Not before Mirelle said it."

"And now?"

"Now I know enough to keep my distance."

His tone held no flirtation, no satisfaction.

Only grim certainty.

"I will not intentionally use the contract to influence you," he said. "If either of us cannot distinguish your choice from its effect, we stop."

Nessa hated that she believed him slightly more than she wanted to.

"Good. Because if my emotions start behaving suspiciously, I reserve the right to assume your face is a magical contaminant."

"Reasonable."

Another alarm bell sounded.

Rhydian pointed through the transparent wall toward the broken Anchor.

Faint white streams were crawling upward along the remaining chain.

Nessa frowned.

"Is that supposed to happen?"

"No."

"Excellent."

"Moon Anchors do more than suspend Vespera. They contain stored chronology. Centuries accumulated since the city's earliest records."

Nessa knew enough chronomancy to understand the implication.

"Someone is draining time out of it."

"Yes."

"You already knew?"

"I suspected losses from several Anchors. Small discrepancies. Missing years that should have been impossible to remove without authorization. Tonight is the first catastrophic failure."

"Then why were you here?"

Rhydian looked toward Lot Seven.

The pale-blue memory crystal still hovered over its display cabinet exactly where the auction enchantment had raised it before Nessa's disastrous bid interrupted the sale.

"Because that memory came from an Anchor vault."

Mirelle's head snapped toward him.

Nessa noticed.

"She didn't know that."

"Its origin was sealed when it reached me," Mirelle said coldly.

Rhydian continued. "I traced its chronal signature. Lot Seven was removed from the same Anchor that just failed."

Nessa stared at the crystal.

The thing she had planned to steal to save Tavi.

Her brother's debt had brought her to the auction.

The stolen memory had brought Rhydian.

Someone had hidden an ancient contract inside the lot.

Coincidences, Nessa decided, were simply conspiracies wearing cheap perfume.

"Suppose I help you," she said. "What do I get?"

"Every resource of the Hour Vault directed toward dissolving your contract."

"Can you promise you can return my heart?"

"No."

"Terrible bargaining technique."

"I can promise that if a lawful method exists, I will find it. And if we find one that frees you safely, I will use it immediately."

Nessa looked at Mirelle.

"And Tavi?"

Mirelle tapped the closed ledger.

"His collection remains suspended while I investigate whether his recalled debt was deliberately used to drive you here. I want to know who modified my auction almost as badly as you do."

Almost.

Nessa disliked needing people whose motives came with footnotes.

But she needed Tavi protected.

She needed her heart returned.

And if Lantern Row fell, none of the rest mattered.

"One condition," she told Rhydian.

"Name it."

"You never exploit the bond. Not to persuade me. Not to calm me. Not because it would be convenient. If you think something I feel might be magically distorted, you tell me."

"Agreed."

"If we find a way to dissolve it—"

"We dissolve it."

"Immediately."

"Immediately."

Nessa almost offered her hand out of habit, then decided an ancient magical contract had already received enough ceremonial encouragement for one evening.

"Verbal agreement."

"Probably wise."

A sharp crack sounded behind them.

Not the city.

Glasslike crystal.

All three turned.

Lot Seven was still suspended above its open display cabinet.

A hairline fracture had appeared across its pale-blue surface.

Then another.

Moonlight seeped through the cracks.

Rhydian stepped sideways, placing himself between Nessa and the crystal without touching her.

"Do not approach it."

"I wasn't planning to embrace it."

The light stretched across the chamber.

It passed around Rhydian as though he were not there and reached Nessa's marked wrist.

Her contract flared white.

The six forged crystals inside her pocket suddenly grew warm.

Then the chamber disappeared beneath an illusion that was not hers.

A second city unfolded across the air.

Not floating.

Standing upon dark solid ground beside a silver sea.

An enormous moon filled its sky.

Figures in pale robes surrounded an unfinished structure resembling a Moon Anchor.

Nessa held her breath.

One woman stood apart from the others.

Nessa had never seen her face.

But she knew the pendant around the woman's throat.

A silver crescent divided by three small stars.

Their mother's pendant.

Tavi kept it in a wooden box beside his bed.

The projected woman did not look at Nessa. Her gaze remained fixed upon whoever had originally recorded the memory.

Then symbols appeared around the woman's body—three stars above a crescent, followed by branching lines like a family tree.

The same pattern briefly ignited over Nessa's wrist.

Rhydian inhaled sharply.

"It's keyed to lineage."

The recording shifted.

Only then did the woman's head turn toward the position from which any future viewer would see her.

Not awareness.

A prepared message.

A message waiting for someone carrying the correct lunar signature.

The woman's expression was exhausted and afraid.

"To the daughter of our blood who awakens this record," she said, speaking across centuries to a descendant whose name she could not have known.

Nessa's skin went cold.

The woman raised a blood-covered hand toward the unfinished Anchor.

"If this message has opened for you, then they failed to bury us completely."

Behind her, people began screaming.

The ancient city's moon darkened.

And the woman whispered the words that made even Rhydian Noct step backward.

"Vespera was never built to remain in the sky."