The water spiraled inward more violently, the glowing center widening. The shard floated there, suspended, flickering between shadow and something almost metallic—like a sliver carved from a dead star.
Poppy reached toward it with her magic. The shard snapped toward her like a predator smelling blood. Pressure slammed into her mind—cold, ancient, furious. The world tilted, and she felt herself slipping, as though the ground had dropped away and she was falling into the spiral.
Mingxi’s arms locked around her, foxfire flaring into a vortex. “No. You willnottake her!”
The shard recoiled—but not far. It clung to the moonwell’s core like a hook wedged into a bone.
Yunlian’s voice rose sharply. “It’s resisting extraction. Poppy, you must hold the tether. Don’t let the shard latch onto you.”
Poppy gritted her teeth. “I’m trying, but it’s—”
The shard struck again. This time, not at the circle—at her. A coil of shadow snapped up and wrapped around the invisible thread connecting her to the moonwell. Cold shot through her ribs, so sharp she cried out.
Mingxi felt her pain like his own. He snarled, foxfire erupting in a bright, dangerous halo.
“You chose the wrong heart to touch.”
His fire roared down the connection, slamming into the shard with celestial heat. The shard shrieked—a sound felt more than heard—and recoiled violently, cracks racing across its twisting form.
Yunlian gasped. “His foxfire… it’s destabilizing the shard’s grip!”
Caelan seized the opening, sweeping both arms upward. Water surged around the spiral, forming a tightening ring.
“Now, Poppy… pull!”
She reached with everything she had—not with her hand, not with her strength, but with the thin golden thread the moonwell had placed inside her chest. The moonwell answered.
A warm surge met her from beneath the surface—weak, trembling, but there—and suddenly the tether between them solidified like a line of light. The shard thrashed. The basin shook. Cracks spidered across the ground.
Lirrane shouted, “It’s trying to break free. Hold it!”
Mingxi pressed his forehead to the back of Poppy’s head, voice low and fierce. “I’m right here. You’re not letting go. Neither am I.”
Poppy inhaled shakily and tightened the tether. The shard shuddered—its form destabilizing, flickering violently. Finally, miraculously, Poppy felt the moonwell pushing with her. Not alone. Not faint. Together.
The light between them flared, and the shard tore a fraction looser from the core. Not enough, but enough to make it scream. Enough to make it afraid.
Yunlian’s voice trembled with controlled urgency. “Again—now that it’s exposed—we begin the true extraction.”
The basin shook so violently that the chalk lines of the ritual circle flickered like fireflies about to wink out.
Yunlian drew in a breath and lifted both hands. “Everyone… brace yourselves.”
The moonwell flared. The shard attacked. Not with pulses this time, but with intent. A whip of shadow lashed upward, striking the boundary Caelan held. The impact sent him staggering back, boots skidding across cracked stone.
“My gods!” he gasped.
Lirrane slammed both palms to the earth, tidal force surging outward to reinforce him. “I can’t hold this alone… keep it together, Caelan!”
“I’m trying!”
The shard lashed again, faster, harder. The air crackled with energy that felt ancient and wrong, like something dragged out of the deep places between worlds.
Poppy wavered, breath catching as the tether pulled taut within her chest. “Mingxi—”
“I’ve got you.” His foxfire erupted in a brilliant shield around them, deflecting the next shadow strike. “Stay anchored to me. Always.”
The shard focused on her instantly, sensing the shift. Cold raked across her mind, a vicious tug trying to rip the tether out of her chest. Pain stabbed under her ribs. Poppy cried out.
