The Shadowling tilted its head with a jerky, puppet-like motion.
When it spoke, it used Poppy’s voice, soft, muffled, wrong. “Let me in… Penelope.”
Poppy recoiled. “No! Stay back!”
The creature reached toward her, fingers tapering like dripping ink, movements mimicking hers a half-second late.
Mingxi stepped forward, foxfire flaring along his hands. “Stay behind me.”
The Shadowling’s head twitched toward him. “Ming…xi…” it whispered, stretching the name like a tear in fabric.
Then it lunged. Mingxi met it midair, foxfire bursting in a wash of silver-blue light. His sixth tail flared brightest, instinctively shielding Poppy from the shockwave.
Caelan slammed his trident down. Water surged up from the canyon floor, sharp as a blade in the confined space. It sliced the Shadowling cleanly—only for the wound to fold shut again.
“Not physical!” Caelan shouted. “It’s made of—”
“Magic!” Lysandra cried. “Broken magic!”
The Shadowling shrieked—a sound like static ripping—and darted for Poppy. She raised her hands, moonlight sparking weakly between her palms. The light shot forward and passed straight through it.
Poppy paled. “Why didn’t it—?”
“Because itisyou!” Lysandra yelled. “You can’t burn your own reflection!”
The Shadowling reached her, but Mingxi slammed into it, pinning it to the stone. Its body dissolved and re-formed around his grip, slipping through cracks of light. It reappeared behind Poppy.
Mingxi spun—too slow.
Caelan moved first.
A column of water burst upward, encasing Poppy in a shimmering barrier. The Shadowling struck it and screamed as foxfire residues sparked along the water’s surface.
“Hold your breath!” Caelan shouted.
She did.
Mingxi pressed his palms to the water, and moonlight flared from Poppy’s chest, raw and instinctive. Their energies fused, vibrating through the barrier.
The Shadowling staggered.
Lysandra pointed to the ground, voice sharp. “The tether! Cut the tether!”
A thin ribbon of shadow stretched from Poppy’s feet to the Shadowling’s.
“There!” Lysandra screamed.
Mingxi didn’t hesitate. Foxfire met moonlight as he slashed through the shadow-thread. It snapped with a crack like breaking bone. The Shadowling shrieked, folded inward, collapsed, turned to mist, and then vanished.
Silence fell, heavy and ringing.
The water shield dissolved. Poppy stumbled; Mingxi caught her, hands steady at her shoulders.
“You’re safe,” he whispered.
Poppy’s voice trembled. “What… was that?”
Caelan shook out his wet sleeves. “A parasite born from the shattering of the Grimoire. One that latched onto you.”
