along.
“Got you,” she whispered.
Sora reached behind her neck and unfastened her necklace, the one Mama had given her during Autumn Festival break when they’d been at Hana’s shrine. It was a traditional Kichonan memory pendant, with a single golden pearl representative of the deceased’s soul. The pearl on Sora’s necklace was only a little smaller than Prince Gin’s actual soul that had been on the satin pillow before her.
She could slip the pendant off the chain and leave it as a decoy.
Could a god be tricked that easily?
Either he’s going to notice the soul pearl is gone or he isn’t, she realized. Maybe it wasn’t worth leaving this behind. A different pearl in the soul’s place probably wouldn’t make a difference. And irrational as it was, Sora had been a little sad about leaving her pendant here. The necklace had been a tribute to Hana, and it had also been a family jewel for a decade.
If only her sister could see that she was fighting on the wrong side. If only Sora could have another chance to convince her that the Dragon Prince was misguided.
But if she didn’t, she wanted to have something to remember Hana by, to hold on to that memory of when she still looked up to Sora and wanted to be on the same team.
So Sora clasped the necklace back on. She just had to hope Zomuri wouldn’t realize the soul pearl was missing before she could reunite it with Prince Gin.
But when Zomuri did notice, how would he punish her?
She curled into herself for a second, thinking about how gruesome Zomuri’s retribution would be.
I’ll face whatever consequences there are, Sora thought. Taigas were trained to sacrifice everything, if they had to, for their country. She could do this.
Sora took a deep breath. Then she tucked the soul pearl into a secure pocket deep inside her tunic, clung tightly to her gemina bond, and jumped up through the vault door, swimming back into the Lake of Nightmares.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sora kicked upward through the water. Daemon’s presence in their gemina bond was as solid as a mountain, so she knew she’d be able to get to shore without losing herself in the nightmares again.
But there was also something else in their connection. A slight hint of sour, like lemon juice in the back of her throat.
Sour was the taste of fear.
She tried to swallow it, but the fear wouldn’t go away. It didn’t feel like Daemon was worried about his hold on her, so what was it? Were he and Fairy okay?
Then Sora saw it. A short distance away, Broomstick floated aimlessly, his eyes staring straight forward, frozen but terrified. Nines! He was stuck in a vision. Fairy would be able to feel it through her gemina bond with Broomstick; Daemon, who was with Fairy, would know something had gone wrong—hence the sour in Sora’s own bond.
She kicked with everything she had to get to Broomstick’s side.
Sora grabbed his wrist. His pulse was slower than it should have been.
Alive, yet caught in the grip of the Lake of Nightmares.
She shook Broomstick hard, but his gaze remained fixed on whatever heinous vision the water was showing him. She slapped him across the face. It did nothing to bring him back either.
Her lungs burned, reminding her that her time down here was finite. She hooked her arm through one of Broomstick’s and began to swim upward. He was more than twice her size, and the water had again taken on the thickened quality of jelly. Sora swam as hard as she could.
She lost her hold on Broomstick. His arm flopped uselessly, bleeding. Sora’s chest tightened painfully, desperate for oxygen, furious that she’d subjected it to deprivation again so soon.
She took both of Broomstick’s arms and draped them over her shoulder, hauling him piggyback. She kept kicking, lungs burning air faster because she was using so much strength in carrying him through the gelatinous water.
Her chest constricted just as she burst through the surface of the lake. Sora gasped while jerking Broomstick’s head above water, too. She didn’t know if he’d had time to cast a whale or sailfish spell. He wasn’t supposed to go into the lake. He must have fallen in.
Onshore, Sora straddled him and pressed the heels of her hands against his chest. She had to not only revive him but also get the water out of his lungs. Who knew what damage the lake could do if its effects were allowed to linger inside his body?
She pumped