Idalia's pupils went wide and round like twin moons.

  The new enemies were neither Wanderans or elves. They were not anything she had a word for.

  They stepped through the tears in the world as if stepping out of mirrors, their cloaks swaying like polite shadows. Their skin was pale and smooth, their eyes glittered like gems that did not belong in living sockets, and their smiles were thin in the way blades were thin.

  Cold. Everything about them was cold.

  "Vampires…" Kelix hissed.

  "The Nosferatu kind," Rhaya added. One bowed to Tiamare with elegant grace. Another adjusted gloves. A third sniffed the air like a perfumed predator. Idalia's fur puffed up so hard she looked like a puffball with fangs.

  Cheyin spat to the side. "So the rumors were true. My Father really allied with the Sanguine Court."

  The well dressed beings began walking forward, feet never touching puddles, never disturbing dust, as if the world was reluctant to acknowledge their presence. One of them raised a hand, and shadows clung to it like obedient pets.

  "Commander," General Honsing said calmly, lifting his cane. "Permission to begin dismemberment procedures."

  Cheyin grinned. "Granted."

  Idalia's tail swished. She loved procedures. But before anyone could launch, Papa Solrift stepped forward. His aura enveloped his frame, and a {Distortion Pulse} rippled from his body, causing the air to pulsate like a rock dropped in water. Then reality blinked.

  The coliseum floor cracked in a perfect circle, not breaking but folding like a sheet of water. A {Portal} spiral exploded into existence beneath everyone's feet, making Idalia's eyes itch with joy.

  Her ears flattened in ecstatic awe. "A ginormous rift without a roar," she breathed. This was a rare skill; a feat very few Liorex could conjure.

  "Confirmation made. We leave," Papa said. Idalia swung her head toward him, startled. What did he mean by confirmation?

  Cheyin stared, bloodied and awed. "Solrift. You never told me you could do this at this scale."

  He huffed. "You never asked nicely."

  The Nosferatu halted, their polite smiles cracking.

  Tiamare's eyes narrowed. "You would flee?"

  "No no. Temporarily relocate," Papa corrected, voice calm and deeply amused. "This is a battlefield prepared for festivals, not interdimensional aristocrats."

  The Shenlong Galadriel snorted smoke. Tiamare gestured for him to dive. He twitched, obedient to the motion. Yet the world trembled before anyone could act.

  The butterflies in the sky screamed and dissolved into crimson ash as the portal's pull began to yank at everything. Elven wards screamed in harmony, not collapsing but harmonizing, as if shocked into cooperation.

  "Everyone who wishes to live," Papa roared, "prepare to dive!"

  Idalia did not need to be told twice.

  She leapt into the portal with zero hesitation, paws first, tongue out, laughing like a lunatic comet. Inside the portal were wind, stars, and something that smelled like berries. She tumbled through the air and felt gravity decide to negotiate instead of dictate.

  She spun around and saw Elemae clutching Lief bridal-style while shouting curses in three languages. She saw Rhaya riding a chunk of floating stone like a surfboard and General Honsing descending midair, relaxed, as if gravity were a mild inconvenience.

  Cheyin flew through last, arms crossed, eyes blazing with fury and delight.

  Papa Solrift followed, stepping through as if walking through a door at home.

  Behind them, the Nosferatu tried to step forward, but the portal snarled. Yes. Snarled. Idalia swore it snarled.

  It snapped shut like a beast biting off unwanted fingers. The coliseum vanished. The crimson sun vanished.

  Idalia felt sorry as the fake Tiamare's expression of disappointment vanished.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  ?? ?? ??

  Idalia's group landed in a rolling field of violet grass beneath a sky filled with three moons and a sun that looked like a spiral shell.

  Idalia bounced up immediately and rolled in the grass.

  "It smells like lightning berries and wet fur!" she announced joyously. "I want to eat the sky!"

  Papa Solrift shook cosmic dust from his mane. "Everyone accounted for."

  Cheyin groaned and sat up. "You dropped us into a pocket plane!"

  "Yes," Papa said brightly. "A very quiet one."

  General Honsing surveyed the horizon. "No hostile signatures here. Minimal mana turbulence. Looks like adequate staging ground."

  Lief collapsed onto his back and laughed hysterically. "I was certain I was about to be eaten by a noble vampire wearing perfume."

  Idalia bounded over and licked his face. "You would have tasted like elf cake." He stopped laughing.

  Cheyin looked up at the alien moons, then at Papa Solrift. "Tiamare will follow."

  "Of course," Papa agreed. "That is why we moved."

  Idalia tilted her head, tail swishing. "Why is that good?"

  Papa smiled, eyes glinting. "Because now," he said, "she will have to chase us through places she does not control."

  Idalia's grin stretched feral and wide. "Yes," she howled, pouncing into the grass and rolling again. "Chase game with monster-Tiamare. I LOVE CHASE GAMES!"

  Cheyin laughed despite herself. She immediately winced, rubbing her ribs. "Hopefully we can return the favor."

  The laughing faded into planning.

  Idalia noticed it the way she noticed storms before clouds showed their bellies. Voices dropped. Bodies angled inward. The air tightened with thinking.

  She rolled onto her belly in the violet grass and pretended very hard to chew on a stalk while listening with both ears and half her soul. She was listening very hard. The grown ones always forgot that Liorex ears were not decorative.

  Vestella had seated herself on a floating slab of stone that obediently hovered at knee height, ankles crossed, hands folded like she was about to play a board game instead of plan a war. Her dress was immaculate despite the chaos they had just fallen out of, pale fabrics humming faintly with wardwork.

  Cheyin stood opposite her, arms folded, posture rigid, blood dried dark along her collarbone. The air between them crackled in a way Idalia found delicious.

  "I propose three immediate objectives," Vestella said calmly. "Stabilize our position in this pocket plane. Conceal our trail. And address the obvious."

  "Which obvious?" Cheyin asked.

  Vestella's eyes lifted, sharp as needles. "That you did not flee Orun because of cowardice, politics, or ambition."

  Idalia rolled onto her side, ears pricked, tail thumping once against the ground.

  Vestella continued, voice level and almost gentle. "You fled because Tiamare was already compromised. Because the Nosferatu had embedded themselves into Orun long before your exile. And because your father allowed it."

  Cheyin did not answer. So did her subordinates who did not move. Not a twitch. Not a breath out of place.

  That silence was loud.

  Vestella turned her gaze slightly. It landed on General Honsing.

  "Honsing," she said. "Am I correct?"

  Honsing did not answer immediately. He leaned a little more weight on his cane. The metal tip sank into the alien soil with a faint hiss.

  "Yes," he said at last. One word. Heavy. Final.

  Idalia's eyes went huge.

  Vestella nodded once, satisfied. "Then the Yae-Fae clan aligning with your splinter force is not merely advantageous. It is necessary. Our enemies overlap. Our resources complement. And frankly," she tilted her head, "we are both marked for removal."

  Cheyin's fist clenched so hard Idalia heard the leather creak.

  In a blink, Cheyin moved.

  She crossed the space between them with a stagger that still carried terrifying force, grabbed Vestella by the collar, and hauled her forward. Blood flecked the stone as Cheyin's wounds protested.

  "Do not," Cheyin snarled, breath shaking, "speak of my country like it is already lost."

  Rhaya moved instantly with aura flaring around her fingers, sharp and humming, stopping a breath away from Cheyin's throat.

  "Release her," Rhaya said.

  The world held its breath.

  Honsing lifted his cane and pressed its tip gently but unmistakably against the base of Rhaya's nape.

  "Stand down," he ordered.

  Rhaya froze, yet Vestella did not look afraid. She met Cheyin's gaze, eyes bright with something like fierce respect. "Then take it back," she said. "With your own hands."

  Cheyin's grip trembled before she released Vestella and staggered back a step, shoulders heaving.

  "I will," Cheyin said hoarsely. "I will take back Orun. I will rip it free from rot and shadow and courtly lies. I will free my people myself. No monster. No throne given to me like a bone."

  Idalia's chest buzzed. Her claws flexed. Yes. That. That feeling. She bounded up and padded closer before anyone could stop her.

  "But," Idalia blurted, tilting her head, curiosity blazing, "why does the thing inside Tiamare want to replace you? And what was Tiamare to you before she smelled wrong?"

  Cheyin stiffened. Slowly, she turned. Her eyes were not sharp now. They were tired. Old. Sad in a way that made Idalia's ribs ache.

  "Tiamare," Cheyin said, voice breaking despite her teeth clenched tight, "was my heart's shadow. My friend."

  She swallowed. Hard.

  "She was a child when they did it to her. Witches. Councilors. And my father." Her laugh was brittle. "They said Orun needed a vessel. A god-eater. A monster to keep other monsters away."

  Her fist shook. "They forced it into her. Made her hold it. Harbor it. And told us it was a blessing."

  The air felt heavier.

  "They want her to replace me," Cheyin whispered. "Not Tiamare. The thing inside her. A ruler without mercy. Without hesitation. Easier to control." Her shoulders hitched downward.

  Papa Solrift stepped forward without a word and lowered his massive head, mane falling like a curtain, blocking Cheyin from the world. But it didn't hide her tears.

  Idalia did not think. She never did when feelings got this loud. She bounded forward and pressed her face into Cheyin's leg, nuzzling hard, tail wagging fiercely.

  Cheyin startled, then laughed wetly through her breath.

  Idalia growled softly, joyfully, defiantly. "Then we bite back! We bite witches and monsters and bad fathers. And we take friends back."

  She looked up, eyes shining. "Chase game," she added, delighted. "But with justice."