I pressed my finger against my lips. “Shhh!”
He leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper. “What are you doing down here?”
The proximity of his face to mine sent an unexpected flutter through my chest. I caught the faint scent of the soap Sage rationed out—lavender and something earthy—that clung to his skin.
“Are you dressed? I want you to come with me,” I whispered, glancing around to ensure no one had stirred.
A crease formed between his eyebrows. The sleepy confusion in his expression made me want to reach out and smooth that line away with my thumb.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I added, “but only if you’re quick.”
The words hung between us in the predawn darkness, fragile and promising. For a moment, I worried he might refuse—roll over and go back to sleep, or worse, demand answers that would wake the others. Instead, curiosity flickered across his face, replacing the confusion with something brighter.
I guided Kaspar toward the ladder, my heart pounding as we crept between slumbering aeronauts. Each sound was magnified in the quiet, threatening to ruin my efforts.
“Watch that third rung,” I whispered as we reached the ladder. “It squeaks.”
We emerged onto the main deck, where the first hints of dawn were transforming the sky. The darkness above had become a canvas of indigo silk, threaded with delicate strands of amber and rose along the eastern horizon. Stars still punctured the fading night above us, stubborn little beacons not yet ready to surrender.
Kaspar stood transfixed, his gaze sweeping across the awakening sky, then darting nervously around the deck. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.
“Come on,” I urged, tugging gently at his sleeve.
I guided us all the way back to the stern. Several supply crates stacked nearby created a perfect alcove, blocking us from view. Aside from the crow’s nest—but I’d placed Ariella on lookout duty. I had no doubt her telescopic was trained on us right then.
On the floor, I’d already set out two leather harnesses and safety lines, meticulously checked and double-checked. The metal clips gleamed dully in the growing light.
Kaspar stared at the equipment, still not quite understanding. He studied the harnesses, then glanced at me with bewilderment.
More doubt suddenly crashed through me. Kaspar, like any new aeronaut, kept a firm distance from the railing. What if I’d miscalculated? What if this gesture terrified rather than thrilled him? My throat tightened with unexpected nervousness.
“Do you want to fly with me?” I finally asked, the words tumbling out before I could refine them into something more elegant.
Kaspar’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “F-fly? You mean—outside the ship? In the open air?” His voice cracked slightly on the last words, eyes widening. “But… isn’t that—” He bit into his lip. “Umm…”
“I promise you it’ll be completely safe. And we’ll be clipped together at all times,” I assured him, reaching out to catch his forearm and squeezing it tightly. “I won’t let you fall, Kaspar. Not ever.”
I watched as Kaspar’s gaze met mine, unwavering despite the fear I could see flickering behind those green eyes. The moment stretched between us, taut with possibility.
“Okay then,” he said quietly. “Show me how to fly.”
My heart tap-danced in my chest, elated beyond reason. My hands almost shook with excitement as I reached for the first harness, running my fingers over the familiar leather straps to ground myself.
“Sky-drops are my absolute favorite thing in the world,” I told him, working to keep my voice steady as I began fitting the harness around his torso. “I don’t get to do it often onThe Black Wraith. But on my old ship, we’d often spend our entire evening in the sky.” A memory flashed unbidden—Eric’s laughter as we plummeted through clouds together, his fingers interlaced withmine as we free-fell side by side. I shoved the memory away violently.
I slipped the harness over each of Kaspar’s arms, then I tightened the straps across his chest, my fingers brushing against him through the thin fabric of his shirt. I adjusted the buckles at his shoulders, then knelt to secure the straps around his thighs, suddenly very aware of our proximity. Before I was tempted to linger, I gave each strap a firm tug to ensure it was secure, then stood.
“I’m excited,” Kaspar said, though the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him.
I attached the safety line to his harness, then fastened my own. The metal clips locked with reassuring clicks. I triple-checked each connection point, tugging hard on the lines. They held fast.
“This line connects us,” I explained, holding up the reinforced cable between us. “It’ll be physically impossible for you to escape me.”
Kaspar raised one flirtatious eyebrow. “Is that a threat, sir?”
Tutting, I lightly slapped the side of his thigh, making him laugh. I tugged him gently toward the railing, though I felt the resistance in his steps.
“Come on,” I encouraged, squeezing his shoulder. “Sit on the railing.”
