I don’t know what all that entails. However, I do know it won’t end in us losing Sera. Because I will chase her to the depths of the obsidian void to bring her back.
“Do you?—”
A crash from outside cuts Sera off, the interruption followed by a fierce growl from Ossa.
Up until now, the beast was slumbering in the living area. Not anymore. With a blink, the three-headed creature disappears, and a snarl erupts just outside the door.
Followed by a screeching meow.
My eyebrow lifts as I push away from the table. “Hmm.” That meow was from Fleur. I didn’t even realize she was here, but it makes sense that she followed me into the maze.
The scurrying of paws greets my ears when I reach the front door.
I jump back upon opening it, sighing when a ball of fluff comes rolling inside.
Ossa releases a furious noise while Mort thrashes his head.
“Drop it,” I demand, recognizing the feathery limbs and furry legs sticking out from his large jaw.
Mort’s ears perk up, his big gold eyes glittering as he meets my gaze. I stare him down, asserting my dominance, which causes Ossa to grumble her discontent.
“Now,” I tell Mort.
The giant creature sighs, then spits out my familiar in an obsidian ball of slobber, feathers, and fur. Fleur screeches and tries to fly but can’t since she’s covered in wolfish drool.
“Thorns,” Sera breathes, rushing forward to scoop my cat up in her arms. “Oh!” She looks horrified. “How do we help it?”
Fleur releases a mewl that echoes through the room, her agony overexaggerated and meant to attract all the pity in the world.
I snort. “Drama queen.”
Sera’s eyes widen. “What?”
“I’m talking to Fleur, trouble, not you.” I move forward to give Mort a good scratch behind the ear, ensuring he knows I’m not upset with him for turning my familiar into a chew toy, then step in front of Sera.
Who is now cradling my whimpering sphinx.
“Wow,” I say, drawing out the word for Fleur’s benefit. “Keep crying like that and Ossa is going to declare herself as the superior beast.”
The female in question growls, clearly already considering herself to be thesuperiorone of the two.
Meanwhile, Fleur starts to rub against Sera, all while making more of those pathetic sounds.
I fold my arms. “Mort didn’t even bite you. There’s no blood. Just slobber and a few broken feathers. You’re fine.”
“Her wings are bent at odd angles, Maliki,” Sera interjects. “And she’s shaking like she’s traumatized.”
I huff a laugh. “She’s being a drama queen so you’ll baby her. She’s fine.”
Sera narrows her gaze at me. “She doesn’tfeelfine, Maliki.”
Fleur peeks up at me and gives me a look that’s all triumph, causing me to roll my eyes. But another crash from outside keeps me from answering.
I shadow out there this time, on instant alert.
Only to shake my head when I see Pip trying to smooth out his torn robe. It looks like it’s been shredded by claws. If he possessed eyebrows, I think they would be furrowed over the narrowed glow of his blue eyes.
I hum again, this time shadowing to the closet inside to magic up a new cloak, then return to Pip and hold it out. I may not be the cause of the damage, but my familiar is technically an extension of me. So, I owe him a new cloak.
