Her head lifted. Poppy felt it then. A coldness, like fingers brushing the inside of her skull. A presence sniffing along her magic, searching for weakness. The entity.
Poppy straightened instinctively, and her glow brightened, moonlight rising from her skin without conscious call. The entity recoiled. Slightly.
Mingxi clearly noticed. “It fears your resonance.”
Poppy didn’t look away from her sister’s hollow face. “Good.”
Lysandra stopped several paces away. Her lips parted. When she spoke, her voice echoed, tone stretched thin, layered with something ancient and hungry.
“Moon… child…”
Poppy flinched. She would have known that voice anywhere, except now it sounded broken, worn by something wearing her sister like a coat.
“You shine,” the entity crooned through Lysandra’s mouth, “very brightly. Too brightly.”
Mingxi drew his blade, foxfire rolling along its edge in a controlled blaze.
The entity tilted Lysandra’s head toward him. “Fox Guardian. You have grown… inconvenient.”
Poppy stepped forward before she realized she’d moved, her hands glowing. “Touch him and see what happens.”
The entity stopped moving Lysandra’s body. Then it smiled. A slow, wrong stretch of her lips. Poppy’s stomach twisted violently—Lysandra neversmiled like that. Her sister’s smile was bright and real and always reached her eyes. This was a mockery wearing her face.
“You called,” the entity whispered, “and we came.”
The valley darkened. Not fully, not visibly—just a soft dimming, like a cloud passed over the moon. Poppy’s glow sharpened, rising instinctively to push back the shadow. The entity hissed through Lysandra’s teeth.
“Lysandra,” Poppy whispered, voice cracking, “I’m here. I’m right here, I swear—”
The entity snapped Lysandra’s head sharply, like jerking a puppet forward. “Do not call her. She sleeps. She dreams. She belongs to us now.”
Poppy’s glow surged, bright enough that Mingxi lifted an arm to shield his eyes. “No,” she said fiercely. “She belongs to me.”
The entity froze.
Mingxi breathed her name like a warning. “Poppy—”
“I’m speaking to my sister,” she said, stepping into the moonlit heart of the clearing, “not to you.”
The night seemed to sharpen around her, light pressing close enough to steal her breath. Poppy’s pulse stumbled, awareness narrowing to the space between heartbeats. For a moment, Lysandra’s body faltered. Her hand twitched. Her breath stuttered. Her eyes flickered. Behind the inhuman shine, behind the layers of cold presence, Poppy saw something—someone. A flicker like a lantern guttering in a storm.
A plea.
Poppy gasped. “She’s in there. I felt her. Mingxi… she’s still in there.”
“I know,” Mingxi said softly, stepping beside her, foxfire blazing stronger. “Then we begin.”
The entity jerked Lysandra’s head back, like yanking invisible strings harder, forcing her forward into the clearing. Her feet dragged. Her limbs shook from strain that wasn’t hers.
Poppy stepped backward into her moonwater circle. The moment her foot touched the glowing boundary, the circle sparked, sealing her inside with a soft rush of silver light.
Mingxi moved to the opposite side, placing the Grimoire between the amplification stones. His blade flickered gold white. The foxfire seal on the book pulsed like a heartbeat.
The air thickened around them. The moonwell brightened. The valley tightened, pulling in like a held breath, and the night trembled as the ritual began. The wind died first.
One moment Moonwell Valley breathed with the night—mist curling low, leaves whispering, the moonwell glowing softly beneath the rising moon. The next moment… an unnatural and gentle silence. Stillness.
Poppy felt the hair on her arms rise. Mingxi shifted his weight, foxfire humming under his skin like a warning tremor.
