by Evelyn Skye
“She found us and didn’t kill us?”
“Unexpected, isn’t it?” Fairy said, closing her eyes because the sun was too bright.
Daemon conjured an umbrella to shade them with.
Surprised, she let out a small laugh, then told him about her conversation with Sora’s sister.
“Do you think Hana might be considering joining us?” he asked.
“At the very least, I think she has doubts about Prince Gin,” Fairy said. “I’m not sure how strong her misgivings are, so we shouldn’t get our hopes up. But like you said, Hana didn’t kill us when she easily could have. That’s got to count for something.”
“Sora will be glad to hear about this,” Daemon said.
“Oh stars, I forgot about Spirit and Broomstick!” Fairy said. She tried to roll over to reach something, but she cried out and grabbed her ribs.
“Don’t move.” Daemon gently eased her back onto the sleeping mat. “What are you suddenly so worried about?”
“I’m a terrible person. How could I have forgotten? A messenger came from Spirit. Broomstick got hurt in the ice caves. I read the note to you, but I’m not sure how lucid you were.”
Daemon only vaguely remembered it, but he tried to keep calm, for Fairy’s sake. “Where’s the message?”
“Near my bag.”
He retrieved the tiny scroll and read Sora’s brief account of what had happened at Naimo Ice Caves.
“You have to get to Paro Village.” Fairy had closed her eyes. “I don’t think I can travel yet. . . . You have to go alone.”
“What? No.” He put Sora’s message down. “I’m not leaving you here. I’ll stay.”
“You’ll go. We need to remember that there are bigger things at risk than just one of us being in pain. Our entire kingdom is at stake. And don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.
“Bring Broomstick and Spirit here,” Fairy said. “I’ll rest and try to reach Liga. . . .” Her voice trailed away at the end of the sentence, and her breathing slowed. She’d fallen asleep.
Daemon hated to leave her. She looked so tiny and frail, like a doll that might break if touched the wrong way. And yet he knew he was wrong. This was the girl who was constantly underestimated because she was pretty and small. The girl who hadn’t hesitated to disguise herself as the empress and walk knowingly into an assassination trap. She could take care of herself.
Still, he wouldn’t leave Fairy out here in the orchard.
Daemon changed into a wolf, and at top speed, he was able to scout the area and find an abandoned mining shack outside of Gorudo Hills. He returned to Fairy and scooped up her and their bags.
When he’d settled her into the shack on an old hay mattress, he made himself human again. Her eyes fluttered open. “Where are we?”
“Far enough away from where the ryuu attacked us that you’ll be safe.”
“Are you going now?”
“I don’t have to.”
“I wasn’t asking you to stay,” she said hoarsely. He handed her a canteen, and she sipped, capping it and laying it beside her when she was done.
“Everything you need is within arm’s reach,” Daemon said. “There are some crackers here, and your bag full of the stuff you foraged in Jade Forest. If I go now, and Sora and Broomstick are still at Paro Village, we can be back late tonight. But if we’re not—”
“They need you, too. Don’t worry about me.”
Daemon would worry anyway—a lot—but he bent down and kissed Fairy.
He almost missed his mark, and their lips met awkwardly. Closed and pressed a little too lightly.
Maybe this kiss was off because Fairy was weak.
Or maybe everything was fine between them, and Daemon was overanalyzing it. He did have a tendency to think too much.
“Bye, Wolfie,” Fairy said, already drifting back to sleep.
He spread a blanket over her and conjured some drapes over the broken windows to dim the sunlight streaming in. Before he left, Daemon kissed her softly on the forehead, and that one felt all right.
“Now sleep. And when you wake up, I’ll be back with Broomstick and Sora.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Watching Daemon descend as a wolf from the clouds was one of the most beautiful things Sora had ever seen. He looked like a blue streak of the aurora borealis in the dark sky, and she ran from where she stood on the tree house deck and scuttled down a rope ladder to meet him.
She wanted to throw herself at him as soon as he shifted into human form. But she managed to restrain herself and offered him a fist bump instead. “I’m so glad to see you again. I was beginning to worry.”
Daemon’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “Sorry I took so long.”
Sora searched behind him. She’d been so focused on her own feelings about Daemon that she hadn’t noticed he was alone. Alarm spiked in her chest. “Where’s Fairy?”
“We were attacked and both wounded.”
Sora gasped. “Tell me she’s all right.”
“She will be.” He toed a rock on the ground. “I was able to heal myself, but she wasn’t strong enough to make the trip.”
“Crow’s eye,” Sora said. “Who attacked you?”
“Where’s Broomstick?” Daemon asked, not so subtly changing the subject.
“What are you not telling me?”
Daemon let out a long breath. “A lot has happened.”
“Start with the good news.”
He nodded. “Hana was with the ryuu who attacked us. Fairy almost died.”
“What? How is that good news!” Their gemina bond wilted, like an entire meadow of flowers dying all at once.
“Because Hana is having doubts about serving Prince Gin.”
Sora’s stomach flipped. “Really?” She had held on to a small hope that she could still convince her sister to switch sides, but to be honest, it had probably been more delusion than real belief. This, however . . .
“Yeah,” Daemon said. “But there’s more. Um, let’s sit down.”
“Just tell me,” Sora said. “I can handle it.”
Daemon took several long breaths. “Fairy and I broke into Prince Gin’s study. While we were there, we found a book of legends, including the prince’s handwritten notations. The stories were about another time in the past when magic was stolen from the gods, and we think . . .” Daemon winced and closed his eyes, as if what he was about to do was causing him physical pain.
Sora’s heart climbed into her throat. “You think what?” she asked quietly.
He opened his eyes and looked straight into hers. “We think that anyone with ryuu powers is damned,” he whispered. “The knowledge of that magic belonged to the afterlife, and Prince Gin stole it. Anyone who possesses the illegal magic will be damned to the hells after they die.”
“What?” Sora’s whole body shook.
Daemon reached out and held her steady. “We’re going to find a way out of this. Fairy is already reaching out to Liga. There must be a way to get the gods’ forgiveness. You didn’t steal Sight yourself, and you’re using ryuu magic to fight the one who did. We’ll save you. I’ll do anything I can to make it happen.”
But a knot formed in Sora’s chest. It was difficult to breathe. The emerald particles around her reeled in a frenzy, stirred up in her panic.
“Get away from me!” She flung out her hand, pushing at the ryuu magic.
The dust blew a few feet away and remained there, as if cowed by her anger.
She could still feel the magic, though. It wasn’t just the particles floating everywhere. It was the memory of the campfire warmth in her belly and the bliss rolling through her veins whenever she cast a ryuu spell. The feeling that the glittering dust had seeped not only into her skin but, apparently, also into her soul.
How could something so beautiful be so abominable?
“I can’t . . .” She was breathing too fast. Her head began to spin.
“Deep breaths.” Daemon wrapped his arms around her. Bo
lts of lightning shot through Sora’s skin. Not literally, but it felt as if he had set his electricity on her, tingly and warm.
“Thank you, but I need . . . I don’t know what I need. I have to think. I can’t. . . . It’s too much.” She ran away from the Society post and into the dense woods that surrounded Paro Village.
Sora kept running. She shoved through vines and ducked under half-fallen trees. She zigzagged through rocks and pushed onward, even when thorns snagged the hem of her trousers and scratched the skin beneath bloody.
Finally, her legs turned to jelly from exhaustion, and she sagged against a boulder, shaded by a scraggly oak. She buried her face in her hands.
It was quiet here, not even a bird chirping, but still, she noticed when the breeze shifted ever so slightly above her.
“You followed me,” she said, without looking up at the branches far overhead.
Daemon alighted from the tree and swooped to the forest floor. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.” He sat beside her and put his arm around her again. “I’m so sorry, Sora.”
She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. Instead, fury balled up her insides. “How could Prince Gin do this?” Sora pounded her fists against Daemon’s broad chest. “What kind of monster can so cavalierly damn other people’s souls for eternity just to get what he wants?”
Daemon let her keep hitting him. “The same kind of monster,” he said, “who can sacrifice two hundred innocents and watch them cut out their own hearts.”
“I hate him,” Sora said, each blow landing on Daemon with a thump. “I hate him I hate him I hate him!”
It’s all too much, she thought. Why bother fighting at all? Why not let Prince Gin do what he wanted instead? If he succeeded, he’d bring his dream of the Evermore to reality. Sora would be immortal. She wouldn’t have to worry about her soul being condemned to the hells.
But as soon as Sora thought it, her conscience flared up, so hot that she actually startled. How could she have believed—even for a second—that allowing the Dragon Prince to win was an option? Too many people would die on the quest to achieve the Evermore, and every ryuu who was killed would spend eternity being tortured in the hells. It was selfishness that drove Prince Gin, and that wasn’t what Sora was made of.
She collapsed against Daemon. He held her as she shook in silent sobs, still no tears but sadness nonetheless.
“Distract me,” Sora said. “Tell me about your training. How has it been going with Liga?”
Daemon laughed quietly. “It’s been . . . interesting. Liga is still figuring out how to interact with humans, and it can be rather amusing. But he’s a good and patient teacher, and I’ve learned a lot. I can shift easily now, and I can fly pretty well. He taught me some basic magic, too. I still have to work on my gravitational powers, though—”
Sora’s mouth dropped open. “Your what?”
The grin on Daemon’s face was bright enough to rival the moon. “All of Vespre’s children have different powers related to the stars or the night. You saw how Liga made the sky dimmer when he first appeared. Well, I apparently used to be able to control gravity, one of the powers of the stars.”
“Daemon, that’s incredible.”
“I can’t believe I gave it up, but it’s all right, because I’m going to relearn how to do it.”
“I’m really happy for you.” She rested her head on his chest, and she swore she could almost feel the intensity of his magic in each of his breaths. Gods, she had missed him. But being this close to Daemon was rejuvenating. Geminas were meant to be together. Maybe not romantically but at least physically and emotionally. She hadn’t realized how much stronger she felt when she wasn’t separated from him.
He told her some more about the smaller spells that he was using, like conjuring food (not great but edible), clothes (he no longer had to be naked when he shifted), and even a ledge outside the Dragon Prince’s study. It was enough to distract Sora’s mind for a while.
But eventually, he ran out of stories to tell, and silence settled into the forest again.
Sora sighed as she sat up, thoughts of her damnation rising again.
“Why does it have to be me?” she asked. “Why did I have to be the one to rebel, to be cursed with this magic?”
“Because you were the only one brave enough to lead us,” Daemon said.
“I’m not that brave,” Sora said in barely a whisper. “I’m only holding it together because I have to. If I fall apart, we lose everything.”
“That’s the hardest kind of courage of all.”
She closed her eyes and burrowed into him again. Daemon tightened his arms around her.
A few minutes later, though, Sora bolted upright. “Oh gods.”
“What is it?”
“It’s not just me who’s damned to the hells after I die. It’s Hana, too . . . and all our hypnotized friends at the Citadel.”
Daemon shuffled uncomfortably. “Yeah.”
He’d already thought of that. Yet he hadn’t brought it up, instead letting Sora process her own fate first.
The revelation that Hana and so many taigas were affected made everything worse. But in a bizarre way, it also made it possible for Sora to rise out of her despair.
No destiny is set in stone, she thought.
She looked at Daemon. “This isn’t over until we say it is.” That’s what she’d told him, Broomstick, and Fairy back in Jade Forest. And it was still true. The stakes might be even higher, but that only made it more imperative that they fight.
“True,” Daemon said. “We decide when the fight ends.” He hugged her again.
The press of his broad chest on her face and his biceps around her made Sora feel safe, despite the odds. The woodsy, night-sky scent of his skin comforted her.
It also simultaneously stoked embers in the pit of her stomach.
Sora had to extract herself before she did anything rash. Like look up at how the wind tousled his wild, blue hair. Or stare at the sparks that danced in his eyes now that he’d awakened the demigod nature inside him. Or kiss him.
She ducked out from Daemon’s arms and cleared her throat. “Let’s find Broomstick and get out of here.”
Sora could feel the weight of this new burden on her shoulders, but she could carry it. She had given herself to Kichona, to protect the kingdom and its people at all costs. And she meant to keep that promise, even if it meant her own death. Her own eternal damnation. “I’m not going to let my sister and all the other taigas be condemned to the hells. So let’s go return the soul pearl to its owner and kill the Dragon Prince.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Early the next morning, Sora, Broomstick, and Daemon flew toward Gorudo Hills. Sora was looking forward to all four of them being reunited, but as soon as the old mining shack came into view, she let out a gasp.
Fairy lay in a limp heap next to the smoldering remnants of a campfire, and an arrow protruded from her chest.
“No!” Broomstick jumped off Daemon’s back before they’d even landed. He was still haunted by the Lake of Nightmares, but seeing his gemina lifeless on the ground roused him to action. He sprinted to Fairy’s side, skidding the last few feet before he threw himself over her body.
As soon as Daemon’s paws hit the grass, he ran, too. Sora clung to his fur.
“Is she alive?” Daemon asked, panting.
Fairy moaned and rolled over, rubbing her eyes at the commotion. The arrow wasn’t in her chest but embedded in the ground next to her. “You’re back. Everyone’s back.”
“Oh, thank the gods,” Broomstick said. “You’re all right. You’re lucky.” He plucked the arrow out of the grass and held it above his head. “It just missed her.”
Sora began to scan their surroundings. “They could still be here.”
“Who attacked you?” Daemon asked. “And what are you doing out here? I thought you were going to sleep inside the shack, where you wouldn’t be seen.”
“Attack?” Fairy
pushed herself onto her elbows, pinching her lips at the pain. “I was alone the entire time you were gone. I took a nap and felt a little better, so I thought I’d try to contact Liga.”
Broomstick was on his feet now, the arrow in one fist and a sword in his other hand. “You couldn’t have been alone. This had to have come from somewhere.”
“But why shoot only one arrow?” Fairy asked.
“It doesn’t look right. Can I see it?” Daemon shifted into human form. Broomstick handed the arrow to him.
Daemon smirked. “That’s what I thought. Fairy was right—she wasn’t in any danger. This is from Liga. See the arrowhead? It’s an alligator tooth.”
Sora’s breath caught with the hope that it held answers to help both Broomstick and herself.
Broomstick hurried to Fairy’s side and helped her sit up properly. While he checked her knife wound, Daemon and Sora examined the arrow.
There was no obvious message on it, though. Sora untied the twine that held the tooth to the shaft. No paper rolled up around the arrow. No words written on the shaft itself.
“Are we supposed to do something to it?” she asked.
Daemon shook his head. “I have no clue.”
Sora held the pieces of the arrow up to her ear, shaking them to see if there was perhaps something stored inside.
Suddenly, Liga’s voice filled the air, as if he’d been waiting for them to hear his message rather than see it. Of course. Liga didn’t understand humans or the way they did things. An ordinary, written note probably hadn’t occurred to him.
“My apologies that I cannot come to earth right now,” he said, sounding as if he were standing right beside them. “I am working on a rather fascinating celestial project, and it is impossible to leave the sky.”
“What could be more important than helping us prevent the destruction of Kichona?” Daemon grumbled.
Liga’s message barreled onward. “To answer the question in Fairy’s prayer, if Broomstick has god magic in him, it will take god magic to undo it. I doubt Wolf or I is powerful enough.
