Poppy kept her gaze straight ahead and then whispered, “I don’t know how to be anything else.”
Mingxi took her hand, squeezed it, “I know, but you’re not alone anymore.”
They entered the inner hall, doors sealing behind them with a whisper of foxfire. The space was dim, lit by wards burning a steady blue along the walls. A circular table dominated the center, with elders gathering around it in rapid, clipped movements of people bracing for disaster.
Poppy stood straight, chin high, but Mingxi could feel the tension radiating from her like pulled wire.
Elder Lan wasted no time. “Lady Penelope,” she said, “you spoke of a ritual. A circle… candles… sigils… performed nineteen years ago by your parents.”
Mingxi sensed Poppy’s breath falter—but only once.
“It was intended to consume me,” she said. “To make me a vessel. Or worse.”
Elder Huailin’s eyes flashed, old anger stirring. “And your sister died interrupting it?”
“Yes.”
Silence rippled through the chamber.
Then Elder Zhenhai spoke. “Lady Penelope… there is something you must show us.”
Mingxi felt the shift before Poppy reacted. Poppy’s hand went to her cloak pocket—slowly, reluctantly—and withdrew the dark blue cloth. She didn’t unwrap it right away. She held it like something heavy. Too heavy.
Then she set the bundle on the stone table and peeled back the cloth. The Sinclair Grimoire gleamed black as pitch, silver sigils faintly pulsing.
Lan gasped.
Huailin swore under his breath.
Shenwu narrowed his eyes. “You brought it from the manor.”
Poppy’s voice was steady. “It called to me.”
The elders exchanged a collective, horrified look.
Zhenhai reached out—very carefully—and placed it in a layered ward circle. Foxfire flickered, but the book did not respond.
Lan tried a resonance spell. Nothing.
Huailin attempted a minor unlocking seal. The Grimoire hissed… then fell silent again.
Finally, Shenwu spoke, deep and grim. “It is corrupted. Void-tainted. And sealed.”
Poppy drew a shallow breath. “It was my parents’ doing.”
“No,” Lan said gently. “Not entirely. The ritual involved something older. Something they did not understand.”
Mingxi stepped forward. “What does it mean?”
“It means, Councilor Shen… the cage meant to contain the entity is fouled. The Grimoire is useless until it is purified,” Shenwu answered.
Poppy stiffened. “And how is that done?”
Huailin leveled her with a solemn stare. “You cleanse it.”
“Me?”
“You are the last Sinclair. You carry moon resonance. And the ritual was bound to your bloodline. No one else can attempt it.”
