Broomstick rubbed his eyes, still half asleep. “You’re making me dizzy by flitting around like that.”

“Yeah, stay still,” Wolf said. “But if your idea is to magically find us coffee, I’d be all right with it.”

Fairy laughed, but only for a moment. She’d been waiting forever for them to wake up so she could share her epiphany. “I think we need to change the sticks we use with our prayers.”

“To what?” Spirit asked as she yawned and stretched.

“The twigs we used last night were just chestnut branches,” Fairy said. “But I think we’d have a better chance of Vespre paying attention to us if we made smoke from night-blooming flowers.”

“Why would that work?” Broomstick said.

“You don’t remember the story from Spirit’s mother’s books? Mortal women who want Vespre’s attention set out night bloomers like wisteria, moonflowers, and certain types of jasmine to summon him to their beds.” It was one of Fairy’s favorite myths because it had to do with plants. And she wouldn’t admit it, but it had also been her earliest primer on how to attract boys.

Wolf sat up on his mat, though, eyes alert with horror all over again.

“Stars, no!” Fairy said. “I promised you I wasn’t trying to flirt with your dad, and I won’t! That’s disgusting. Besides, we’re all going to use these flowers to contact him.”

“It’s a good plan,” Spirit said. “But where do we find the flowers? It’s daytime now, and you’re the only one who would recognize them in their unopened state.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” Fairy grinned and pointed to the base of one of the chestnut trees, where a mound of flowers was piled several yards wide and almost as tall as she was. “I didn’t sleep because I was too excited about the idea, so I went foraging for us.”

Broomstick, Wolf, and Spirit blinked.

“Wow,” Wolf said. “You did all that while we were asleep?”

“Yup! And I also gathered some lolaro berries. They’re actually five times as caffeinated as coffee beans!”

“You don’t say,” Broomstick said. “How many have you had?”

Fairy stopped bouncing in place—only for a second—to stick her tongue out at him.

“Anyway,” she said, “as soon as it’s dark again, we can start burning flowers, and the perfume will carry our prayers up to Celestae. In the meantime, who wants some lolaro? They taste like cherries mixed with apricots and a dash of sunshine!” She skipped from Wolf to Broomstick to Spirit, offering the purple berries. No one extended their hands.

She couldn’t understand why.

Chapter Fourteen