They reached the palace vaults at twilight on the day after the fourth moon.
The descent was long: spiral stairs carved into bedrock, torches guttering in damp air, the weight of centuries pressing down. Thorne led, mask reflecting flame like a ghost. Behind him came Elandor and Star, hands linked. Lila carried a lantern. Duchess Calera brought up the rear, sword drawn though no enemy had ever breached these depths.
At the bottom stood a single iron door, sealed with seven locks of decreasing size. Thorne produced seven keys from inside his robes, each older than the last. The door groaned open on hinges that had not moved in living memory.
Inside was a round chamber of black stone. In the center, on a pedestal of white marble, rested the Mirror of Hollow Sky.
It was not large: no bigger than a shield, framed in star-iron, surface dark as still water. No reflection showed in it yet.
Thorne spoke for the first time since the Cairn.
"The mirror shows what was stolen," he said. "But it demands payment. One memory freely given by the one who loves the victim most. The memory must be of the victim. And once given, it is gone forever from the giver's mind."
Star's heart stuttered.
Elandor didn't hesitate.
"I'll pay it."
Star turned to him. "No. You've already lost enough carrying my stolen pieces."
Elandor cupped his face. "I would lose every memory of you if it meant you got yours back. But the mirror only needs one."
Thorne shook his head. "It must be a memory that defines your love. The deeper the memory, the more the mirror returns."
Elandor's eyes never left Star's.
"Then take the night in the city inn," he said quietly. "Our first time truly together. No titles. Just us."
Star's breath caught. That memory was sacred to both of them, but Cassian had already stolen it from Star. If Elandor gave his version willingly…
"It's the one Cassian took from me," Star whispered. "If you lose it too…"
"Then we'll make new ones," Elandor said fiercely. "But you'll have the others back. The farm. The first 'I love you.' The moment you chose to take the arrow. You deserve to remember who you are."
Star's eyes filled. He couldn't argue. The hollows inside him were eating him alive.
He nodded.
Elandor stepped forward.
He placed both palms on the mirror's cold surface.
"Take the night in the inn," he said, voice steady. "The bakery smell, the narrow bed, the way he laughed when we knocked the lamp over. The way he said my name like it belonged to him. Take it all. Give him back what was stolen."
The mirror flared white.
Elandor gasped, staggering. Star caught him as memories flooded back into his own mind like warm rain after drought.
The farm: his mother's bread, Daisy's warm flank, the endless stars.
The balcony: Elandor's voice cracking on "I love you," the kiss that tasted of forever.
The forest hunt: the calm choice to step in front of the arrow, the fierce joy of choosing love over life.
All of it rushed in, vivid and whole.
Star sobbed once, a sound of pure relief.
But Elandor's face was blank with loss.
He looked at Star, eyes soft but puzzled.
"I know I love you," he said slowly. "I feel it in my bones. But… the inn. It's gone."
Star pulled him close, tears on both their faces now.
"Then I'll tell you," Star whispered. "Every night for the rest of our lives, I'll tell you how you kissed me like I was the only real thing in your world. How we laughed until we cried. How you fell asleep with your head on my chest and I counted your heartbeats like they were prayers."
Elandor's arms tightened around him.
"Tell me now," he said, voice breaking.
So Star did.
Right there in the vault, surrounded by ancient stone and flickering torchlight, Star painted the memory back into Elandor's mind with words and kisses and touches: the creak of the bed, the taste of cheap wine, the way Elandor's hands had shaken with wonder the first time he undressed him.
When he finished, Elandor was crying silently.
"Thank you," he whispered. "For giving me back something I didn't even know I'd lost."
Star kissed the tears from his cheeks.
"We're even now," he said. "Both missing the same night. Both carrying the others."
Thorne closed the vault door behind them as they left.
Three memories left in Cassian's hands.
Three moons.
But now Star remembered why he fought.
And Elandor, even without the memory, still knew why he loved.
The mirror had taken its price.
Love had paid it gladly.
And the war for their souls moved into its final phase.