“It’s because we’re mere apprentices,” Fairy said. “The warriors expect us to act like adults until it’s inconvenient for them. Then we’re just children to them again.”
“I suppose it’s also my fault they don’t take us seriously,” Sora said. “I’ve spent years goofing around and doing anything I could to make life difficult for them. Why would they think any differently of me now?” She sank down onto the lawn.
Daemon, Fairy, and Broomstick joined her, and Fairy rested her head on Sora’s shoulder, her hair like a silky blanket for Sora’s cheek. They sat like that for a few minutes in silence, which Sora knew was difficult for her roommate, who usually couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Sora appreciated it and let her own head rest on Fairy’s.
It didn’t mean her mind stopped whirring, though.
I understand why the Council closed the matter, Sora thought. They’d sent a team to look into it, and when the answer came back a definitive negative, Glass Lady and the others had moved on to other leads. This was a crucial time; the Council and all the taiga warriors were stressed and researching every possible explanation for the magic at Isle of the Moon. There were scholars in all the libraries across the kingdom, poring over old texts, day and night. The outposts throughout Kichona were on high alert and on orders to send dragonfly messengers about anything and everything suspicious. And the councilmembers themselves were hardly sleeping as they sorted through all the incoming reports.
But Sora didn’t accept that what she and Daemon had seen was unimportant. It just meant that the Society was short on resources right now and couldn’t spend more time on chasing a lead that seemed, on its face, easy to explain away.
I have time, though, Sora thought. Classes were going to be canceled this week, because the Society needed every taiga warrior—teachers included—to help with their research and to be ready to defend the Imperial City should the Isle of the Moon threat appear here. That meant apprentices like Sora were without a task, and without much supervision.
Daemon sat up and arched a brow. An idea was percolating in Sora’s brain. He could feel the pinging of anticipation through their gemina bond.
“What’s the plan?” he asked.
Fairy and Broomstick turned to Sora too.
She took another moment to think through her idea, just to make sure she really believed in it.
She did.
“We need to go back to Takish Gorge,” Sora said. “Or near it. We have to find those people again. The Council won’t investigate this any further now, but just because they’re busy pursuing other leads doesn’t mean we should let this go ignored. Maybe we really are wrong. But what if we’re not and it really is the Dragon Prince? If we do nothing, we will have failed as taigas. Our job is to protect Kichona. Prince Gin would destroy it.”
Fairy sprang to her feet. “When do we leave?”
Sora frowned. “About that . . . The warriors might not notice if two of us are gone, but four are too conspicuous. I think it should be just me and Daemon.”
“But I want to go!”
“She’s right,” Broomstick said to Fairy. “The Warrior Meeting Hall staff would definitely notice if I’m not at work. Besides, if you and I stay, we can help cover for them.” He turned to Sora and Daemon.
Fairy slumped. “I feel left out.”
“Don’t,” Sora said. “If we do find Prince Gin, we’re not just going to take notes and then leave him. I want a way to stop him. Whatever the Dragon Prince is here for, it can’t be good, and I need you.”
Fairy scrunched her nose, confused. “How can I help with that?”
“You could pack up some poisons for me.”
“You want to kill a member of the imperial family?” Fairy’s eyes went wide in shock. Broomstick gawked at Sora. Even Daemon, despite his gemina bond that had clued him in on her feelings leading up to this, was numb with shock.
“No,” Sora said. “I want to kill a traitor to the kingdom, who would upend the entire planet in his selfish quest for the Evermore if he could do it.”
What she didn’t say out loud, but which was equally true—
I want to kill the man who murdered my sister.
Chapter Thirteen
Sora and Fairy climbed up to the third floor of the girls’ dormitory. The building’s black rice paper windows were thrown open, so even indoors it smelled like sunshine. It was a jarringly cheerful sensation, given that Kichona’s destruction loomed on the horizon.
They turned down the hall, passing several doors until they reached theirs. Sora slid it open and stepped inside, nearly tripping on the nunchucks she had left haphazardly in the middle of the floor before going on the Autumn Festival break.
“Yipes!” Sora said as she caught herself on a bedpost.
Fairy merely shook her head. There was an unofficial but obvious line down the center of their room. Sora’s side was littered with dirty uniforms and unread books and the occasional nunchucks. Fairy’s side was spotless and tidy, especially her botanicals lab—a small desk and set of shelves lined with jars full of dried leaves and vials of flower nectar, as well as flasks of experiments, some successful and some not.
“I’ll, uh, tidy up your side of the room while you’re gone,” Fairy said.
“You shouldn’t have to,” Sora said. “I’ll do it when Wolf and I return. But I know you’ll worry while we’re gone, so if you need something to occupy your mind, maybe you can work on Wolf’s birthday surprise?” His birthday was only a couple weeks away, and after the success of their firework tiger at Rose Palace, Sora had an idea that she thought he’d love.
Fairy smiled a little. “That’s a good plan.”
But already, Sora was thinking of the journey ahead. And the last lines of the Evermore fable also lingered, a haunting reminder of what was at stake.
It was not man who achieved immortality but, rather, the curse, which trailed their greed like an unshakable, eternal shadow.
The Evermore was never worth its price.
But the opposite was also true. It was worth any price to stop Prince Gin and everyone else who pursued the unattainable legend of the Evermore.
Sora threw open her closet and grabbed a bag. She’d need some clothes, a canteen for drinking water, which she could fill in ponds and streams, and a cloak for concealing herself and keeping warm in the night.
And of course, weapons. She unhooked two leather bands from the wall. One had her usual throwing stars, and the other had spikes, poison darts, and exploding eggshells filled with blinding powder. She strapped several more knives onto her body and into the hidden pockets in the sleeves and every fold of her tunic.
When she turned around, Fairy handed her a small leather pouch. Her favorite, which she always kept strapped to her belt.
Sora’s mouth fell open. “Fairy . . . you don’t have to give me your satchel. I can just take a few of your concoctions—”
“I want you to take it,” she said. “Then I feel like . . . I don’t know. This is stupid. But I’ll feel like a part of me is there with you, helping.”
Sora hugged the satchel to her chest. Inside were half a dozen squat glass vials of poison, each with its own slot. These were Fairy’s babies wrapped in blankets, all in a row. She didn’t like going too long without cradling them. It was a big deal to hand them over to someone else. “Thank you.”