by Evelyn Skye
“Wow.” Fairy gawked as she reached for one. It weighed nothing, yet it was solid in her hand. The tip of the awl gleamed almost wickedly, seeming to be made of something much sharper and stronger than metal.
Wolf took an awl out of the leather sheath, too, and whistled appreciatively.
“Shall we engage in some sabotage, then?” Liga asked. His flying grew bouncier with his excitement. “It appears the ryuu have ceased their shipbuilding operations for the night. I surmise this would be the perfect opportunity.”
Wolf and Fairy shared a smile.
“Take us down, Liga,” she said. “I feel like causing some trouble.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
A day after fleeing from Samara Mountain, Sora finally slowed down.
Broomstick pulled on the reins of his horse. He hadn’t complained at all, knowing that Sora needed to put some physical space between herself and what she’d seen of her parents.
However, during their ride, a dragonfly messenger from Daemon and Fairy had caught up with them.
“An entire shipyard? Crow’s eye,” she’d sworn, horrified, as she passed the tiny scroll to Broomstick. Daemon, Fairy, and Liga had also flown over the nearby towns as dawn broke, and they’d observed formations of men and women marching in unison; it appeared that the Dragon Prince had begun hypnotizing ordinary people to conscript them into his army. The ryuu were fierce warriors, but any army also needed foot soldiers as the first line of defense—or, if you thought of it more cynically, sacrifices.
Broomstick skimmed the scroll and cursed, too. “They’re really moving quickly on their plans to launch a war.”
“And Daemon and Fairy still haven’t found any signs of the empress.”
Sora and Broomstick had been stunned into silence and rode the rest of the afternoon without much conversation.
Now, though, it was time to let the horses rest and to send a message back to Daemon and Fairy.
Broomstick took the horses off to find a place to drink, and Sora tucked herself between a mossy rock and a scraggly tree growing sideways to protect itself from the wind. She began to call on her ryuu particles to form a tiny dragonfly, then she stopped.
Her messengers didn’t have to be dragonflies. This was her magic. She could make the messenger anything she wanted. Sora smiled a little. When life seemed impossible, holding on to small joys helped her get through to the possible.
Sora closed her eyes and rested her head against the moss. She wanted to create something beautiful, because there was enough that was ugly in the world right now.
She remembered her Level 10 year. The apprentices had learned to dive like the pearl divers did. Sora still recalled one of their lessons when their teacher had led them to the bottom of a sandy canyon and motioned for them to be still.
He’d pointed a stick into the distance.
Sora squinted for a moment, not seeing anything in the sandy water.
Suddenly, though, something emerged from the haze. A fever of eagle rays—eight in all—flapping their wings majestically and in perfect formation like elegant raptors flying in the sky, except they were massive beasts in the bottom of the Kichona Sea. Sora had let out a gasp and forgotten for a moment that she was underwater, that she needed to conserve her breath. Daemon had been there to quickly nudge her chin to close her mouth.
Sora envisioned that dive now as she called on the ryuu particles around her. They coalesced into a shimmering, emerald eagle ray, although much smaller than the ones she had seen. Sora also made it visible, not just ryuu particles that she could see, because otherwise Daemon and Fairy wouldn’t know it was there.
Broomstick returned with the horses. He gawked appreciatively at her work.
But whatever joy Sora had felt at creating the eagle ray vanished as she wrote the note to go with it.
Dear Daemon and Fairy,
We got your report about Prince Gin’s shipyard and how quickly he’s going to be ready to declare war. We have to stop him as soon as we can. Keep searching for Empress Aki and hurting Prince Gin in whatever way possible.
Broomstick and I just passed the Striped Coves, and we’re about two days away from Naimo Ice Caves. Along the way, though, we’ve learned a few things—
1. With Zomuri as Kichona’s patron god now, Zomuri’s viciousness is leeching into the people. They’re more irritable than usual and, sometimes, flat-out mean.
2. Mama didn’t have much on the Lake of Nightmares other than a few notes, including one that the Lake of Nightmares is made of water that causes hallucinations, making anyone who tries to swim in it believe the worst version of themselves.
Still, we have to try to get to Zomuri’s vault to retrieve the soul pearl. I hope his defenses were made with ordinary humans in mind, not taigas. Broomstick and I will need your help through our gemina bonds. The Lake of Nightmares will try to make us lose faith in ourselves, and you’ll have to remind us that we’re better than the hallucinations want us to believe.
Broomstick read the note over Sora’s shoulder. “I hope your mother’s research is wrong about the lake.”
Sora nodded. “But I suspect it’s not.”
She rolled up the paper, attached it to the eagle ray’s tail, and sent it off toward Jade Forest.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Seeing Liga’s demigod powers in action and sabotaging the ryuu’s shipyard energized Daemon. Anxiety for Sora and Broomstick, on the other hand, sapped him. The only thing he could do to balance the two—and to keep himself from going insane with worry—was throw himself into his magic.
The next day, he practiced shifting from boy to wolf form again and again until he could do it seamlessly, including conjuring clothes for himself at the switch. He and Liga flew figure eights and barrel rolls and nosedives while Daemon learned to suppress the blue sparks that leaped off his fur.
After a particularly impressive set of aerial tricks, he thought of Sora. It seemed wrong that she wasn’t here as he finally came into the magic he’d been waiting for. He wanted to watch the smile bloom on her face as he performed a loop-de-loop in the air, her eyes crinkling with joy. Then Daemon would land and charge straight at her, toss Sora on his back, and feel her body pressed against his. . . .
Fairy cheered for him from the ground below. Daemon shook himself from the daydream.
What is wrong with me? he scolded himself. His subconscious needed to let go of its old fantasies.
When it was time for a break from flying practice, he sat on the ground in the chestnut grove with Fairy and played with his other demigod powers, like conjuring something better to eat than the berries Fairy had scavenged. His rose-apple jam and flaky biscuits weren’t as good as the ones from the Citadel dining hall, but they pleased her so much, Daemon swore to himself he’d keep on trying to perfect them. Plus, Liga really liked tasting human food.
When evening fell, though, a storm broke out over Jade Forest. Lightning slashed through the sky, and thunder shook the trees. All the remaining chestnuts pelted Daemon, Liga, and Fairy. They were soaked from the rain within seconds.
“It seems our dear father has noticed my absence,” Liga said.
Fairy looked up at the gray clouds. “You mean this isn’t a normal storm?”
“I recognize the pattern of the lightning,” Liga said. “What you see is actually the flash of Vespre’s sword as the blade slashes through the sky.”
Daemon felt the thunder’s vibrations as if they were in his bones. They were an echo of a memory from his past life in Celestae, when he’d witnessed his father’s fury firsthand. “You’d better go,” he said to Liga. “I’m sorry I kept you for so long.”
“But we still need him,” Fairy said, rushing forward and grabbing Liga’s wrist, as if that would keep a demigod from leaving if he wanted to. “Wolf, you don’t know how to use all your powers yet. What about gravitational magic?”
Liga rested his hand on hers where she gripped him. “I believe my brother can figure it out on h
is own from here, now that he’s reconnected with his true identity. Besides, you have a mission to fulfill—sabotage and spying and an empress to find. That is still important, is it not?”
“But—”
“Fairy,” Daemon said gently, “we have to let him go.”
Reluctantly, she uncurled her fingers from Liga’s wrist. “I know you gods don’t like to get involved in human affairs, but don’t forget us when you go back to Celestae, okay? Our invitation to you is always open.”
Liga smiled. “I promise I will not forget you. And I will return as soon as I can. It turns out I find earth rather fascinating. I cannot let my brother monopolize it all for himself.”
Lightning flashed again, brighter and angrier this time. “Go,” Daemon said.
“Until next time.” Liga gave Fairy a courtly bow, tipped his head at Daemon, then vanished as if he’d never been there.
Daemon blinked at where his brother had just stood. Even though he knew Liga was a demigod, the magnitude of his magic still surprised Daemon.
“I’m going to miss him,” he said. Ever since Daemon was taken from the wolves in Takish Gorge, he’d wished for a family. Now he had one, even if it was far away. He looked up. It was too stormy to see the sky, but Daemon smiled anyway, knowing that every constellation up there was a brother or sister. He’d never have to feel alone again.
“I’ll miss him, too,” Fairy said, “even though he was a little weird.”
Daemon laughed. “Well, it’s probably good that he’s gone, or I would’ve been tempted to keep practicing with him. But it’s night; we need to head back to the Imperial City.” They had to keep searching for the empress. Every day that passed increased the risk that the Dragon Prince would do something awful to her or kill her. And it was also of the utmost importance that Daemon and Fairy keep trying to slow his plans in any way they could.
The little space between Fairy’s eyebrows crinkled. “It’s probably too risky to go back to the Citadel so soon. I hope they didn’t discover what we did in the shipyards, but just in case, maybe we should try the castle tonight.”
“There’s that locked room near the top that Sora and I couldn’t get into last time,” Daemon said. “Now that I can fly, maybe we can access it from the outside. Do you have your potion that dissolves glass?”
Fairy patted the satchel on her belt, smiling. “I never leave home without my best ones.”
Daemon shifted into wolf form and flew to the Imperial City with Fairy on his back. Technically, he could fly at the speed of light, but it would make Fairy ill if he went that fast, so he tried to go at a less sickening pace. And he knew now how to dim his sparks, so even if he flew slower than the speed of light, Daemon would be able to approach the bloodstone castle unseen.
Unfortunately, Prince Gin’s lair was more populated than the last time Daemon was here. Many of the rooms flickered with candlelight, and the one in particular that he wanted to break into glowed through its two-story windows, a large fire in the hearth. The flames silhouetted eight people inside, sitting formally in a circle.
“That seems like it could be an important meeting!” Fairy shouted into Daemon’s ear over the wind and rain.
“What should we do?”
“Take a closer look, I guess.”
“But how?” Daemon hovered in the air. It was uncomfortable, not having a plan. If Sora were here, she would have mapped out what to do ahead of time. Fairy, on the other hand, had no problem with winging it.
“Fly in,” she said. “We can cling to the walls and eavesdrop.”
It was as good an idea as any. He swooped in toward the castle.
Fairy began to whisper a gecko spell to stick to the wall.
“Wait,” Daemon said. “You don’t need to do that.”
He concentrated on the ledge right beneath the tall windows and imagined it extending itself.
“What are you doing?” Fairy asked.
The stone glowed blue at the ends. Then the ledge began to grow sideways, until it was five feet longer on one side of the windows.
“Making you a foothold.” He smiled and flew over to deposit Fairy on it.
“Wow.” She tested its sturdiness with one foot, then, judging it strong enough, hopped on with her other. “Much better than clinging with a gecko spell.”
Daemon landed on the ledge a bit precariously—it was hard to fit the width of his wolf body and all his paws in a narrow line—and shifted into human form. He was happily covered in a proper uniform and cloak, too. All his practice had paid off.
It wasn’t a moment too soon either, because a patrol rounded the corner of the castle below. “Guards,” he whispered.
They pressed themselves against the wall and remained still.
When the guards had marched out of view, Daemon and Fairy cast moth spells, which not only allowed them to communicate ultrasonically, but also gave them exceptional hearing. They leaned harder against the wall to try to listen to the conversation inside.
Even with their best eavesdropping spell, though, the voices were muffled. The bloodstone was too thick to conduct sound well.
Daemon began to miss Sora again. She would have thought through all this beforehand, and they wouldn’t have gotten stuck like this, perched uselessly on a narrow ledge in the rain.
“I’m going to peek in the windows so we at least know who’s in there,” Fairy said.
“Don’t! You might be seen.”
“I’ll be quick, and I’ll stay low. I’m small. No one will notice me.” She lowered herself to all fours and slithered forward on the ledge on her belly. When she was beneath the windowpane, she lifted her head just enough to spy through the glass.
“It looks like a study or library,” Fairy said. “Prince Gin’s in there. And a grizzly-looking old ryuu, a couple of younger men, and three women.” She ducked.
“That’s only seven.” Daemon paced along his short stretch of the ledge. “I saw eight silhouettes when we flew in. I’m sure of it.”
Fairy raised her head and peered in again, scanning the room a little too long for Daemon’s comfort.
“Get down,” he said. “What if the eighth person was Sora’s sister, but she went invisible when she saw us?”
“Then she’d pounce on us any moment now,” Fairy said.
Daemon prepared himself for an attack. Fairy crawled back from the window and readied her knives.
But there was nothing, not even a gust of wind, and after a few minutes, Daemon relaxed.
“It must have been shadows playing with my eyes,” he said.
Fairy nodded. “There were definitely only seven people in there. One of the women was talking and using a pointer on a map on the wall.”
“We have to get inside and see it for ourselves,” Daemon said.
“We’ll go as soon as the meeting ends.”
Time seemed to slow as they waited, as if the hourglass had been turned sideways and the sand forgot to fall. Eventually, though, the glow from the windows dimmed as the fire inside died down. Daemon snuck a peek through the windows.
“The room’s finally empty,” he said. “Can you break us in?”
Fairy nodded. “I’ll need to remove a pane of glass big enough for us to fit through.” Although the wall was floor-to-ceiling windows, most were too small. “The ones at the top will work,” she said, pointing.
Daemon squinted at them, looking from the narrow window frames to his own body. “It’s going to be a tight squeeze.”
“I guess you’ll have to stay out here while I go inside and have all the fun,” Fairy teased.
“How did I get stuck with such a cruel girlfriend?”
She smiled and pecked him on the cheek. It warmed away the chill of the rain.
“I’ll cut the glass as close to the frame as I can to give you space,” she said. “Just hold me steady.”
They cast gecko spells this time and climbed. At the top of the windows, Daemon stuck one of his hands firmly to the wall an
d made sure his feet were also well attached. Then he looped his free arm around Fairy’s waist; this freed her up to work with both her hands.
She pulled a slim vial from her botanicals pouch and what looked like a thin paintbrush. She dipped the brush into the viscous pink liquid and began painting the edge of the closest windowpane. The glass sizzled, then dissolved. Daemon kept their bodies close yet carefully away from Fairy’s concoction. One errant drop and their flesh would be burned straight through to the bone.
As she finished the final edge of the window, Fairy adhered one of her sticky feet to the glass so it wouldn’t fall and shatter. Her potion completed its work, and the windowpane released itself from the frame. It clung to her foot as if held tightly by a suction cup.
“And now for the acrobatics portion of tonight’s entertainment,” Fairy said.
She slipped the foot holding the glass inside the study, latched both hands onto the top of the window frame, and swung herself through. Her body arced upward one hundred eighty degrees so she was upside down. She stuck one foot to the wall above her and kept the other one—with the glass pane—far enough away so she didn’t break it.
“Bravo,” Daemon whispered.
Now it was his turn. With Fairy out of the way, he could get through the window frame.
He didn’t move immediately, though. Something creeped along the back of his neck, like an army of baby spiders. He slapped at them, but there were no spiders, just little hairs standing on end.
Was someone watching them? He was still a little worried about that eighth person he swore had been in the study earlier. But he darted a glance back at the ground and the wall beneath him, and there was no one there. If it were Hana, surely she would have attacked them by now.
You’re getting paranoid, he chastised himself. Daemon faced the window frame once more.
As predicted, it was a tight squeeze. The fighting arts teacher at the Citadel had always told him there was no such thing as too much muscle, but as Daemon contorted his body to fit through the space, he started to doubt the wisdom of his extra weight-lifting sessions.
