But instead she groaned as she thought of something that could spell the end of their plans.
“What is it?” Fairy asked.
“Zomuri’s treasure . . . What if it’s not here on earth but up in Celestae?” Sora looked fearfully at the sky. “I’m an idiot for assuming the vault was somewhere we could find. But if it’s up there, we can’t get to it.”
“Maybe Wolf could fly,” Broomstick suggested earnestly.
Daemon shot him a black look. “How? By flapping my arms?”
“Calm down; he wasn’t trying to insult you.” Fairy physically inserted herself between them before they started throwing chestnuts again. Or actually fighting.
“But what if . . .” Fairy’s brow furrowed as she thought. “What if we could help you fly? Then you really would be able to take us to Celestae.”
“You’re saying we should work on Daemon’s powers?” Sora asked. She still had the same concern as before—they weren’t even sure what it was Daemon could do, let alone how to summon or control it. Figuring it out could take weeks or months. “We don’t have the time to do that.”
“Oh. Right.” Fairy’s shoulders drooped.
But Sora’s mind raced as if finishing the last pieces of the puzzle. Prince Gin had given his soul pearl to a god. It might be hidden in Celestae, the home of the gods. Or it might be here on earth, in a hiding spot chosen by a god. The common denominator in all of this was . . . a god.
She bolted upright. “I’ve got it.”
Broomstick and Fairy both looked at her expectantly. Daemon continued beating up the mushrooms.
“Who would know best where a god might hide his treasure?” Sora asked.
“Um, the god who hid it in the first place?” Broomstick said.
“Besides him.”
Fairy scrunched her nose as she thought. “Someone who knows how gods think.”
“Another god,” Broomstick said.
“Exactly,” Sora said. “And we might have a connection to another god if Daemon is the demigod constellation we think he is.”
“What are you suggesting?” Fairy asked.
Sora looked up at the sky. “We should try to summon Vespre, Daemon’s dad.”
Chapter Eleven
Daemon thought he might keel over. All his life, he’d wondered where he came from and who his parents were. Will Vespre answer our summons? Will he be happy to see me? Can he tell me who my mother is?
But then he thought of another question. Why hadn’t Vespre reached out to him sometime in the past eighteen years? If he really was Daemon’s father . . .
Their imagined reunion suddenly didn’t seem so sweet.
“Maybe I’m not his son,” Daemon whispered.
“What?” Sora said.
He felt so cold. “Maybe we’re wrong and I’m not a demigod, just a freak of nature or a fluke. Maybe I’m not as special as you think.”
She seized their gemina bond and shook it hard. “You turned into a flying wolf that protected us from the Dragon Prince’s mind control. You’re special. Face it.”
Daemon just crossed his arms.
“Hey,” Sora said softly. She reached out and actually touched him.
Goose bumps immediately rose on every inch of his skin. Daemon slammed his mental ramparts up so that Sora didn’t feel his reaction through their gemina bond, and he jerked away.
He was with Fairy now. Shouldn’t that have cured him of his feelings for Sora?
Unfortunately, emotions didn’t vanish just because another one showed up and tried to take its place.
Sora didn’t know why Daemon had pulled away, though, and hurt made little spots of red blossom on her cheeks. He wanted to brush his fingers over her face and soothe the blotches away.
Instead, he scooted farther back.
“I’m sorry,” Daemon said. “I’m going through . . . a lot.” He didn’t elaborate. It was better for everyone if Sora thought it was solely about all this demigod business. Besides, he really liked Fairy, who was brilliant and brave and gorgeous, just in different ways from Sora. And that was all right. It didn’t make him a bad person to fall out of love and into another love at the same time. He was only human.
Maybe.
“I know all this wolf stuff is overwhelming,” Sora said. “And you’ve been working so hard; you need a break. We’ll start turning this site into a mini temple to pray to Vespre. Why don’t you go for a walk in the woods? Or climb a tree? You always feel better when you’re up high.”
Daemon sighed. Why did she have to be so amazing? He’d been petulant and cynical these past couple days, but she was still there for him.
But he only said, “I don’t want to leave you guys to do everything.”
“We don’t mind, I promise,” Sora said. “Go.”
He nodded slowly and got to his feet. “All right. Thanks.” It actually would be helpful to have a break. He needed to get his head on straight.
Daemon hiked a ways into the woods, closed his eyes, and listened to the forest. There was the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, like silk fans in late-autumn heat. The murmur of the river, slowing down as it prepared for winter to take it. The silence in distant parts of the woods, where tigers and other predators hunted.
What he didn’t hear, however, was the call of the sky. He didn’t feel the tug that he used to, the insistent need to climb as high as he could go. Nothing made sense anymore.
“Are you all right?”
Daemon opened his eyes. Fairy had followed him.
“Oh. Hi.” He forced himself to smile.
“Do you want company? Or did you want to be alone?” There was no flirtation in her voice, just genuine concern.
“Um, I was trying to clear my head.”
“I’ll give you space, then.” Fairy began to turn to go back to the chestnut grove.
But the moonlight illuminated her, and she looked almost angelic.
“Wait,” he said. “Come with me. I’m going to climb up closer to the sky.”
“I’m right behind you,” Fairy said without asking why.
He found a tall cypress nearby, with a thick trunk and long branches spread out like open arms. The majestic tree must have been a couple thousand years old. Daemon scaled the tree easily, climbing the trunk and then leaping from branch to branch. He checked to see if Fairy needed any help, but she’d cast a squirrel spell and was almost as nimble as he was. He stopped at one of the sturdier branches, not quite at the top but high enough, and a few seconds later, she landed without a sound next to him.
“What are we—?”
“Shh,” he said.
He waited for the familiar feeling to come—the sensation like a part of him had been missing but now, so far from the ground, the sky could pour into him, fill the emptiness, and make him whole. But there was nothing. He closed his eyes and puffed out his chest, as if inviting the sky in.
Nothing.
“It’s not working,” he muttered.
“What’s not?” Fairy asked.
“I don’t feel a thing.”
She moved closer to him. His eyes were still closed, but he sensed the slight shift in weight on the branch beneath his feet.