But its devastation also made Isle of the Moon the perfect place to regroup before they returned across the channel to Kichona’s main island. No one would expect them to choose this as a hideout.
“Try touching down on that strip,” Sora said, pointing to a narrow clearing.
“I hardly know how to fly, let alone land,” Daemon said. “I might dash us all to pieces.”
“You can do it,” she said, even though they’d only discovered his magic hours ago. She tapped into the mental bond she shared with Daemon and sent him a ribbon of reassurance. It coursed through their connection like the scent of salt water and sunshine on a summer day, and she could immediately feel the muscles in his shoulders release some of their tension.
She looked down again at the island. The destruction was even more stark as they got closer. Gardens were flooded. Beams from broken buildings littered the ground. Rainbow koi swam in puddles on top of broken rooftops instead of in the carefully tended ponds they’d once called home.
“I’m going to aim for that meadow at the edge of the woods,” Daemon said. “There’s slightly more space there. Everyone, hold on.”
Sora leaned into the fur on the back of his neck and hugged him, feeling his lupine strength beneath her, and for just a moment, she let the wonder of Daemon’s transformation sweep over her. Even though he was a wolf, he smelled like cypress trees and sky, like a boy born of the forest and the stars. Every nerve in her body tingled, awake in a way she’d never before experienced.
Fairy tightened her grip around Sora’s waist, bringing Sora out of her thoughts. Broomstick stretched from behind Fairy and wrapped his arms around both of them, his reach long enough to secure them all together. Daemon began his descent.
The wind stung Sora’s face, and her ears felt tight from the pressure of flying downward at such speed. A flock of birds squawked and broke formation to allow Daemon through. The open air quickly gave way to treetops, and then—
“Jump!” Daemon shouted as he careened, out of control, toward the grass below.
Sora leaped off his back, tucked her body into a ball, and somersaulted as she hit the ground. She rolled once, then sprang to her feet, as agile as if she’d intended such a landing all along. Beside her, Fairy also landed lightly, as did Broomstick, his massive body graceful from years of taiga training. It didn’t matter that he was the size of a small rhinoceros; he moved like an acrobat—strong and fluid and effortless.
Daemon was not as lucky. He crashed into the meadow, bouncing several times, and stopped only when he’d skidded several hundred feet into the wet, sandy remnants of a meditation garden. His groan rumbled like an unhappy thunderbolt.
They rushed to him.
“Wolf!” Fairy cried. Sora was the only one who called Daemon by his birth name. Likewise, he was the only one who called her Sora.
He rose on wobbly legs, his paws crossing awkwardly as he stumbled.
Broomstick reached him first and braced Daemon against his own frame. “Steady there.”
Daemon grinned sheepishly, which was quite an accomplishment for a wolf. “I told you I might crash.”
“But you’re all right?” Sora asked.
“Ego bruised, but that’s the worst of it.”
She nodded. “Let’s find a place to settle down. It’s been quite a day.”
That was, of course, a massive understatement, but so much had happened since the sun rose that morning, Sora could only process parts of it at a time. Prince Gin had hypnotized the entire Society of Taigas except Sora, Daemon, Fairy, and Broomstick. He had also destroyed Rose Palace, sacrificed two hundred innocent people in a bloody ceremony, and possibly murdered his sister, the empress. It was almost too much to bear.
“Hey-o,” Daemon said, “that house over there looks intact.”
Sora and Fairy followed him and Broomstick. Upon closer inspection, the building wasn’t a house but a large hall, possibly a meeting space for when the Councilmembers had their annual retreat. Also, it wasn’t so much “intact” as not falling down. The front door barely hung on its hinges, the rice paper on the windows was torn open, and the glass ceiling was completely shattered. But it was the best they had.
“Let’s see if there’s any food,” Sora said, “and figure out a plan.”
“Can we sleep a little before we have to think again?” Daemon asked. His shoulders slouched from the effort of flying for hours with three people on his back.
Sora paused. Time was of the essence. If Empress Aki was still alive, they’d have to find her quickly before Prince Gin had a chance to move her out of the Imperial City.
But when Sora looked at Daemon, she knew what the answer had to be. His muscles trembled beneath his fur, and the gales outside had almost blown them out of the sky several times as he tired.
“Yes, of course,” Sora said. “We should definitely sleep. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before.”
They walked through the creaky front door. It was indeed a meeting space, which apparently doubled as a dining hall, too. Smashed plates and teacups and the moldy remnants of a meal lay in the mess of broken tables and chairs.
Broomstick eyed the room warily, as if the ryuu who had done this might still be lurking, just waiting for them to let down their guard before they sprang again. “We can take turns on watch.”
Sora waved him away. “I’m having trouble shutting off my brain. You guys go ahead and get some sleep.”
Fairy hesitated.
“I swear I’ll wake you if I need someone to take over,” Sora said.
Daemon stumbled into the far corner of the hall and collapsed on a pile of tablecloths. Within seconds, he was snoring wolfishly.
Broomstick and Fairy went off to find their own nooks to sleep in.
Or at least Broomstick went to find his own space. Fairy went straight to Daemon’s corner of the room and settled against his blue fur.
Sora’s chest knotted; she’d almost forgotten about the two of them holding hands before the Citadel battle. It had been difficult to see, since Sora had only just realized her feelings for Daemon then, too.
But the Society of Taigas forbade romantic relationships between geminas. So if Daemon was going to be with anyone other than Sora, she was glad it was Fairy. There was something lovely about your favorite people in the world coming together.
Right?
Annoyed at herself, Sora distracted her mind by clearing the debris on the floor to make some space—none of the chairs were sturdy enough to sit in—and cast a simple spell to light a fire next to her. They were indoors, but with the shattered glass ceiling, they might as well be outside.
Then Sora finally had time to think about everything that had happened.
Empress Aki was missing—possibly dead. Prince Gin had sworn loyalty to Zomuri, god of glory, and dedicated the kingdom to the pursuit of the Evermore, a mythological paradise obtained through war and bloodshed. And every single one of the Society’s leaders—no, all the taigas—were either dead or brainwashed and under the prince’s control.
Sora curled up next to her fire. What was she going to do? There really was no one left except her, Daemon, Fairy, and Broomstick. Her earlier confidence faded.
Eventually, though, Sora’s fatigue caught up to her, and she dozed off.