Poppy straightened instantly.
“You were correct: the entity cannot be safely separated from the elder Sinclair’s soul without a reversal performed in a moon-saturated environment.”
Poppy’s breath hitched. “Lysandra…”
The scroll brightened.
“We feared contamination risks, but the mark on the younger Sinclair shows no Void intrusion—only a tether. She is uncorrupted.”
Mingxi exhaled softly. Relief, sharp and deep.
The message continued, “The danger lies not in purifying the Grimoire, but in the entity attempting to use this moment to jump hosts.”
Cold slid down Poppy’s spine. “Into me.”
Mingxi’s jaw tightened.
“Yes,” Elder Lan said. “If you attempt the reversal elsewhere, the entity may flee into the nearest compatible vessel—and that is the marked one.”
Poppy wrapped her arms around herself. That was the fear she hadn’t wanted to name, but the message wasn’t finished.
“Our records confirm the moonwell is the safest location. Pure lunar saturation weakens the entity and strengthens the marked bearer. Host-transfer becomes exceedingly difficult under full moon resonance. Grimoire alignment can be stabilized there.”
The scroll dimmed to a softer glow.
“The moonwell will not save you if your will falters. But it will give you the best chance. Return with vigilance. Light guide you both.”
The foxfire dissolved, leaving silence in its wake.
Poppy sat very still.
“So,” she said after a moment, voice thinner than she wanted, “if we don’t do this exactly right, my sister’s parasite could jump into me instead of being pulled back into the Grimoire.”
“Yes,” Mingxi said quietly, turning toward her. “But the moonwell is where that risk is lowest.”
Her throat tightened. “Still not zero.”
“No reversal is without danger.”
She looked at him, heart pounding. “And what about you? If this thing lashes out—”
“I will stand between you and anything that tries to take you.” His voice did not waver. “Tomorrow. Or tonight. Or any day after.”
She wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes was iron. Before she could speak again, the wards shuddered. The hum sharpened. The air split.
Mingxi rose instantly. “No. Not here—”
A figure stumbled between the trees, jerking like a marionette with tangled strings. Then another. Then a third. All wrong. All driven.
Revenants. But stronger. Faster. Their eyes glowing with something far beyond simple necromancy.
Poppy’s stomach dropped. “They found us.”
“Stay behind me.” Mingxi’s blade was already in hand.
The revenants moved in jagged unison, their heads tilting with eerie synchronicity as they stared at her.
The first one gasped and then spoke in a wet, overlapping chorus, “Moon… spark… almost… ripe…”
