by Evelyn Skye
Sora had taken plenty of risks while in school, pulling off pranks and pushing the boundaries on the rules. She’d put her life on the line to save Kichona. Surely she could take a risk on her heart, too?
She reached up and traced the scar on Daemon’s face, where his wolf cub brother or sister had slashed him when they were young. He was wild and beautiful, the boy she’d fallen for so naturally over their years together that she hadn’t even realized it until she was irretrievably in love.
Daemon took in a breath of surprise at her touch. But then he leaned in.
Sora closed her eyes.
His lips skimmed hers, soft, gentle. Despite the electric charge between them, Daemon moved slowly, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. He released his mental ramparts, and the feeling of roses blooming filled Sora all over again. Sweet, floral perfume wafted through their gemina bond.
Daemon kissed her cheek. Her temple. Both closed eyelids. Each touch was a caress, as light as dragonfly wings.
Sora opened her eyes and ran her thumb across his wolf-claw scar again.
He stilled.
She didn’t need him to complete her. She was already whole. But having Daemon like this—knowing she had someone by her side who would always be the mountain supporting her—amplified what Sora could be on her own.
Together, they could do anything.
He smiled, and then he kissed her again, his mouth like water in a brook. Sparks crackled all around them, lighting them with a blue glow. With every touch of his lips, Sora shined brighter on the inside and the outside.
“I don’t ever want to lose this,” she said.
Daemon pulled her in tightly against him, both arms wrapped around like he never wanted to let go. “I am yours, and you are mine. No matter what happens, that’ll always be true. I promise you.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Hana watched Sora and Wolf come back from wherever they’d gone. They were the same, inseparable, yet there was something different between them. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was.
Broomstick smirked. “You two finally figured out that you like each other, huh?”
Wolf shot him a dangerous look.
Sora, on the other hand, blushed. Hana made a face. It was bizarre seeing her tough sister embarrassed about a boy. But then she saw how Sora avoided Fairy’s gaze, and she understood that there was more to this story than just Sora and Wolf.
“It’s all right,” Fairy said, smiling. “I’m happy for you guys.”
“Really?” Sora asked, daring to look at her.
“Really,” Fairy said.
Sora exhaled, and Hana found that she did, too.
“Thank you,” Wolf said to Broomstick and Fairy. “I’m lucky to have friends like you.”
“Yes, you are,” Fairy said, winking. “Now get going. You have a heavenly island to break into and a god to persuade.”
“Oh, um, right. I’ll be as quick as I can,” Wolf said. “I intend to get back to fight Prince Gin and the ryuu with you.”
“Hold on,” Hana said. She’d grown up in a camp full of people plotting surreptitiously; it had made Hana pretty sharp at seeing when someone was planning something different than his words conveyed. “What are you not telling us?”
“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly.
Sora frowned. “Daemon?”
He smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Do you believe in me?”
“Of course.”
“Then will you let me keep this secret if I promise to tell you later? I just need it to be mine for now.”
She bit her lip but nodded.
Hana sighed. Love could really muck up your brain. Nevertheless, she trusted Sora, and Sora trusted Wolf, so Hana let it go. Besides, Hana wasn’t the one in charge anymore. She was a taiga now, not a ryuu.
Before he left, Wolf conjured enough food and water for everyone. Then he shifted forms and nuzzled against Sora’s face. It was probably the lupine version of a kiss, but it was a bit too sweet for the rest of them, and Hana, Fairy, and Broomstick groaned and turned away. Wolf laughed, said goodbye again, then took off into the sky.
Broomstick opened his mouth, about to say something.
Sora held up a finger. “Not a word. You tease me, and I will make you sorry.”
He pinched his lips together, pretending to zip them while obviously trying not to grin.
Hana watched them with longing. This is how her sister and her friends had always been, a tight-knit group supremely comfortable with each other. Hana had always wanted to be a part of it.
But now I have a chance, she realized.
Fairy administered the poison to Tidepool, then woke her with salts that were part ammonia, part something even more noxious.
Tidepool opened her eyes groggily but snapped into a fighting stance when she saw her captors.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Hana said. “You’ve been given a poison that will dissolve all your internal organs unless we give you an antidote every two hours. If you want to live, you’ll do as we say.”
“You bitch,” she said as she held her hands up in surrender. “I always knew the emperor should have made me his second-in-command.”
Hana flinched. For most of her life, Prince Gin’s esteem had been the measuring stick for her worth.
But now she’d have to find that elsewhere. Or in herself.
She quickly went over what they wanted Tidepool to do—bring over one of the ships from Dera Falls, use the ocean to sail Empress Aki, Fairy, and Broomstick to Caldan, Brin, and Fale Po Tair, and hopefully lead their navies back to Kichona to stop Prince Gin before his war bled past Thoma and into the rest of the world. Tidepool kept trying to get in snide remarks, but after a while, Broomstick started pantomiming painful deaths caused by the dissolution of his insides, and Tidepool shut up.
“Do as Empress Aki tells you,” Hana said, “and when you’ve returned with our allies, Fairy will give you the permanent antidote to the poison. Agreed?”
Tidepool let out a violent string of Shinowanan curses but finally nodded.
“Good, then. Get started.”
Half an hour later, the fiercest of the warships that had been guarding Dera Falls arrived onshore. Hana and Sora joined Empress Aki, Fairy, Broomstick, and Tidepool on the beach to see them off.
“Here are some messengers,” Sora said, giving Broomstick a lantern full of glittering green eagle rays. “Send us updates at every kingdom.”
Broomstick took the lantern. “I can’t believe I’m voluntarily going to the kingdoms where the Lake of Nightmares said I’d cause so much death.”
“I can believe it,” Empress Aki said. “Self-doubt is a ghost that feeds on fear. Starve it with bravery, and you’ll prevail.” She patted him on the back. “As you have.”
“Good luck, Your Majesty,” Hana said, bowing.
The empress thanked both Hana and Sora, then boarded the ship. Fairy and Broomstick said their goodbyes and took Tidepool on board with them.
And then they were gone.
The space between Hana and Sora suddenly seemed both empty—without Fairy’s constant chatter and Broomstick’s laughs—and too full. There was so much Hana needed to say, but she wasn’t ready to yet.
Sora seemed to feel it, too, because she kept looking straight out onto the ocean, even after the ship was far enough away that it looked like a toy in the distance.
Finally, she turned inland, and dread filled Hana at the questions and accusations that were sure to tumble forth.
Instead, Sora smiled kindly and said, “Want to make some dinner for Papa while you tell me what you know about the bloodstone castle?”
It was as if she knew that Hana couldn’t say all her apologies, couldn’t handle all the regrets and tears right now. And instead, she gave her this gift—just to be with her family for a little while, and to work together, as she’d always dreamed.
The next day, Hana and Sora left Papa safely hidden in the
hollowed-out tree, then swam across the channel, back to the main island of Kichona. As dawn broke, they decided to make camp outside of Shima, since it would be wiser to rest during sunlight hours and travel at night. They’d easily be able to make it to Jade Forest and the Imperial City tomorrow to begin scouting and to wait for the empress to return, hopefully with reinforcements from the mainland.
Once Hana and Sora had settled into a cave in the hills just beyond Shima, Hana summoned her magic and conjured a three-dimensional, glowing, green model of Prince Gin’s palace. Small figures paced around the perimeter and stood watch on the pointed towers. “I know every passageway, where the ryuu are stationed, their alarm and guard protocols . . . everything,” she said.
Sora studied it. “It’s less daunting than the actual castle. Still a challenge, though.”
“Yeah,” Hana said. “And even though we’ll be invisible, we need to know where the ryuu are positioned because we don’t want to run into them. They know you can make yourself unseen, so they’ll be on guard for unexplained movement. Even if you brush one of their uniforms or dart out of sight but stir the air around them, they might notice.
“Emperor Gin . . .” Hana noticed Sora frown, and she quickly corrected herself. “Prince Gin isn’t easy to pin down. Sometimes he’s in his study mapping out attacks, sometimes he’s at the Citadel inspecting and coaching the new ryuu, and sometimes he just sits on his throne, staring at the mural on the ceiling.”
“He stares at the ceiling?” Sora asked. “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“The mural is of the moment he stole ryuu magic from the afterlife and came back from the dead,” Hana explained. “He thinks it was a message from the gods that he was given a second chance at life—with even greater magic—in order to shepherd his people and his country to the future they deserved.”
Sora grew painfully silent. Hana stopped, too, when she realized what else that mural represented—the moment Prince Gin had damned their souls.
A ship sank in Hana’s gut. She had grown up thinking he was a visionary. He was wrong, but it would still take her time to fully process that he wasn’t the gods-blessed leader she’d been told he was since she was six years old. She couldn’t say this out loud, though. It would seem like lingering loyalty, and that wasn’t it at all.
They had to cram that soul pearl back into his body and kill him. He was too powerful, too much of a threat, to be allowed to survive.
“When this is all over,” Sora said quietly, “we’ll blow up that mural.”
“I’ll help,” Hana said.
After a moment, Sora pointed back at Hana’s 3-D model of the castle, getting back to business. “Given how hard Prince Gin is to find, we’ll have to be flexible in our approach. But maybe the soul pearl can act as a guide. It seems to be attracted to his magic, and it went crazy in my pocket when he was actually right in front of us at Dera Falls. Good thing it’s small, or he might have seen it moving.”
“It would be really good if the soul pearl can help lead us. So”—Hana pointed to one of the towers—“if Wolf is back in time, he’ll drop us off up here, and we’ll either follow the pearl or make our way through to the most likely places in the castle.” She shifted the model to highlight where the ryuu were stationed—there were more guards now since Wolf and Fairy sabotaged the shipyard and broke into the prince’s study.
Sora studied the map. “And you know the patrol schedules, you said?”
“Yes. I came up with them.”
“Good. Depending on what time it is and how long it’s taking us to track down Prince Gin, we can change our path inside to avoid the ryuu with the most difficult powers.”
They spent a few more hours poring over the map, plotting the best paths, making contingency plans.
When they were finished, Sora rubbed her fist into Hana’s hair, like she used to do when they were kids. “Nice work, stinkbug.”
Hana lit up. It wasn’t as intimidating as “Virtuoso,” but it was suddenly clear that that wasn’t what she needed anymore.
All she wanted was this.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
It shouldn’t have taken long for Daemon to get anywhere when he flew at the speed of light. But he didn’t know where exactly Celestae was located. He’d figured that it would be obvious when he saw it. Who could miss an entire floating island in the sky?
Apparently, Daemon could. He’d been flying for several days now—stopping only when he needed to eat or take a quick nap on a cloud—and exhaustion strained his muscles.
“Liga! My lady, Luna!” he shouted, his voice hoarse from the endless yelling. “Can you hear me? It’s Wolf. I need your help!”
As before, there was no response, as if the vast emptiness of the sky was just absorbing Daemon’s entreaties. Where was everyone? There were hundreds of gods if you counted both the major and minor ones, plus who knew how many demigods like Liga there were. In order to give all those enormous personalities enough space, Celestae must be bigger than the entire Kichonan archipelago. And yet it was nowhere to be seen.
“I should have asked Fairy to gather some night-blooming flowers for me to bring,” Daemon grumbled. “Maybe then I could get Liga to respond.” His brother could probably get hold of Luna.
Daemon’s sparks sputtered through his fatigue, and he decided to give in to it, just for a moment. He landed on a cloud and collapsed into the cushions of mist. In his wolf form, he was paradoxically sturdy and strong while also weighing very little, since he was composed of stardust and god magic; therefore, the clouds could hold him. It was still hard for Daemon to grasp how this was possible, but that was likely because he was trying to understand it from a human point of view.
“Liga,” he called half-heartedly. “Where are you?”
A small flock of birds flew past Daemon’s cloud. He followed them with his gaze until they’d vanished from sight.
His mind began to wander to what Sora was doing. She was probably laying out a detailed plot for how to assassinate Prince Gin. He hoped she was reconnecting with her sister, too, like he’d gotten to do with Liga. Maybe Sora and Hana were even training together, with Hana teaching Sora how to better use her invisibility.
Invisibility! Daemon bolted upright in his cloud. What if his banishment from Celestae wasn’t as simple as the gods not letting him through the gates when he showed up? What if Vespre had made it so that Daemon couldn’t see the gods’ home at all?
“Nines,” he swore. If that were true, he’d better get back to work at yelling for someone to come get him, because he wasn’t ever going to find Celestae on his own.
Daemon rose from the cloud and shook off the tendrils of mist that clung to his fur. His sparks were bright again; the self-healing properties of demigods also meant his energy could be restored relatively quickly, even though his rest had been short. He leaped back into the sky and flew straight up, to where the atmosphere thinned and breathing would have been difficult if he weren’t a demigod.
He began to cycle through a series of entreaties, shouting each at the top of his lungs.
“Liga, it’s Wolf! I need your help!”
“Luna, this is your grandson. The taigas need you!”
And finally . . . reluctantly . . .
“Vespre, it’s your profligate son! I’ve come home to apologize.”
On the hundredth time of calling his father’s name, the air suddenly began to blur in the distance. Daemon stopped yelling and held his position in the sky.
In what had once been empty space, a long stairway appeared. Hundreds of enormous silver torii arches lined it, each heavy-beamed gateway leading straight to the next, creating the sensation of a tunnel leading to the heavens.
Behind the torii-covered stairway, golden pagodas and archways and bridges materialized, like a Kichonan city built from crystallized honey, glimmering in the air. Every god had a towering castle, each tier elegant with curved eaves, broad balconies, and intricately carved gargoyles with fur th
at swirled like clouds. Around each castle was a sprawling estate, and as Daemon flew through the torii arches and drew closer to Celestae, he could make out some of the lush foliage in the nearest gardens.
Purple wisteria draped and swung in a subtle spring breeze, perfuming the air with a scent of grape candy. Maple trees boasted autumn reds and oranges. And tall, snow-dusted fir trees presided over parts of the floating heavens. Daemon took it all in with wonder. Time didn’t exist in Celestae, and neither, apparently, did distinct seasons. The gods could create and do whatever they wanted.
The rush of brooks, like giggling children, and the melody of crickets creating music that sounded a lot like Kichonan songs to the gods stirred something in Daemon’s memory. He didn’t remember anything specific, and yet he could feel that he’d been here before, that this place lived inside him, even when he was gone. He sped up, bursting out of the last of the torii arches and eager to see what else his first home would trigger.
A voice like thunder boomed across the sky and stopped Daemon short.
“My wayward son. How dare you return?”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Two days after Fairy, Broomstick, and Empress Aki left, Sora received a simple message via glittering eagle ray: Emperor Geoffrey has committed the Imperial Caldanian Navy to help us fight.
The next day, she received this message: Ria Kayla has agreed to send the Royal Navy and Marines of Brin.
And on the fourth night after they’d left, the last eagle ray flew into her hideout and landed on Sora’s pillow: Fale Po Tair will fight. Queen Meredith is leading the Faleese Navy herself. We are on our way.
Goose bumps prickled Sora’s skin. Things were falling into place. The only piece missing was Daemon.
Hopefully, he’d return soon.
Chapter Sixty
It was time. A day after the last of the eagle rays arrived, Sora and Hana stood at the edge of the Field of Illusions, outside the Citadel’s western fortress walls. The troops from Caldan, Brin, and Fale Po Tair were hidden just outside the Imperial City, ready to fight. Soon, they would try to overwhelm the ryuu by sheer numbers, while Sora and Hana slipped into the castle, reunited the soul pearl with Prince Gin, and killed him.
