“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.”