The twig fell over, engulfed in flames, just as she finished her plea. This was going to be harder than she thought. The sticks were really nothing like incense.

But Sora lit another twig, planted it in the sand, and repeated her prayer. Over and over and over again. Nearby, Daemon, Fairy, and Broomstick whispered to Vespre as well.

Five hours later, their knees ached and their stomachs gnawed at them. The smoke of so many sticks clouded the air in the chestnut grove, as if the path to Celestae was blocked and the smoke had nowhere to go. Sora’s eyes watered from it, and she was beginning to feel dizzy. Broomstick coughed in the polluted air.

“We need to rest,” Fairy said.

“No,” Daemon said, suddenly the most fervent of the group, when earlier he’d had only enough enthusiasm to poke at mushrooms. “We have to keep going.”

“Our prayers are stuck under the canopy,” she said, waving at the smoke. It was thick enough that seeing through it was a bit difficult. “We can at least wait until this clears out before we send more pleas.”

“No!” Daemon said, clutching a fresh twig to his chest.

A swirl of bitter and sweet, like chicory steeped in cloying syrup, flooded through Sora’s bond with him. It was so powerful, she could almost taste Daemon’s longing, his wish that Vespre would not only be able to help with the pearl but also confirm his parentage.

Sora picked up another stick. What Daemon needed was equally important to her as stopping Prince Gin. And that was urgent. Every hour that ticked by was another hour that Empress Aki could be killed. Another hour closer to Prince Gin launching a war against one of the mainland kingdoms, and their hypnotized friends dying in the fight. Sora shuddered at the possibility.

Vespre, my lord, please hear us. . . .

The night eventually shifted to early morning, and the dark gave way to dawn. Nothing changed in their makeshift temple except that all their eyes were rimmed in red from the smoke, and their backs hurt from kneeling in one position for so long.

As the sun rose, they did, too. There was no point in reaching out to the god of night during the day.

Sora had known it would be difficult—maybe impossible—to get Vespre’s attention. And yet disappointment swamped her gemina connection like the stifling mugginess of a bog, making it hard to keep their chins up.

“We tried our best,” Sora said as they unrolled their mats and got ready for bed. She had to stay upbeat, for everyone’s sake. “But it was only our first attempt. Get some sleep. Tonight, we’ll try our best again.”

Chapter Thirteen

By the time everyone else woke up in the afternoon, Fairy was nearly bouncing out of her skin. “I have an idea,” she announced as she darted from sleep mat to sleep mat.