Idalia leaned forward. "Do you have a scarf too?"

  The broad one stared at her like he was deciding whether honesty was worth dying for. "No."

  Cheyin's grin was quick and wicked. "They are my pack. They won't bite unless I tell them to."

  "That is what worries us," Lief said.

  The elf at the desk did not react as if a small army had just walked into his lobby. He simply nodded politely. Verdantine hospitality was terrifying.

  The scar-nosed Wanderan stepped closer, eyes scanning Vestella and Rhaya with a distant, puzzled focus. His expression shifted again, not into fear, but into recognition. He then pointed, very slowly, like he was afraid the air would argue.

  "You," he said to Vestella, then to Rhaya. "Syljeon."

  Rhaya's eyes narrowed. Her hand drifted slightly, not reaching for a weapon, but hovering near the idea of one. "What did you call us?"

  "Syljeon," he repeated, as if it was obvious. "Far east. White coast banners. Perfumed steel." His eyes flicked to Vestella's coat and the subtle petal-pattern embroidery. "A noble's daughter. Out in winter." He sounded genuinely confused. "You're out on vacation, yes?"

  Vestella hummed, very politely, and proceeded with a curtsy. "That is one interpretation."

  The Wanderan looked relieved. "Good. Vacation is better than war."

  Rhaya made a sound that might have been a laugh if it didn't carry the promise of violence. "If you call what we do a vacation, you have lived a very strange life."

  He shrugged, like that explained everything. "I am a Wanderan. All lives are strange."

  The sharp-eyed subordinate leaned toward Cheyin, voice low. "Why are there Wanderans from another continent in our building?"

  Rhaya's gaze snapped to them. "I'm not Wanderan."

  The subordinate paused. "You are wandering. In a land that is not yours."

  Rhaya's snickered. "Of course, I am."

  Idalia found this deeply amusing. She chuckled into her paws.

  Kelix leaned closer to Idalia and whispered, "Try not to start an international incident."

  Idalia whispered back, equally loud, "I like incidents."

  Cheyin rubbed her temple with two fingers. "Everyone, breathe. If anyone is going to break the hotel, it is Idalia, and she is on probation."

  "I am not on a bowl," Idalia protested.

  "That is not what probation means," Lief said, despairing.

  The elf at the desk cleared his throat with gentle authority. "Additional guests under Cheyin of Orun are also registered. Lord Braunches requested that your party remain on the same level."

  "Why," Rhaya asked, flatly.

  The elf smiled. "Lord Braunches used the phrase, 'peace by inconvenience.'"

  Cheyin made a delighted sound. "I hate that he is clever."

  Vestella's eyes softened just a fraction. "He is not forcing peace. He is simply removing the ability to flee."

  Idalia perked up. "Yes. Like trapping prey in a neat pen."

  Lief turned pale. "Do not phrase it that way!"

  The broad subordinate shifted his bundle again. The thing inside hissed louder, then went quiet as if it had decided not to waste energy on conversation. Idalia's gaze locked onto the bundle. Her {Sight} prickled, tasting magic through the air like static on her tongue. She couldn't see through the fabric! "Something is in there," she said.

  Cheyin glanced at her subordinate. "Stop bringing your pets in crates. It makes you look like a villain."

  "It is not a pet," the broad one muttered, but his cheeks flushed.

  Doro walked up and sniffed the bundle, then sneezed again. The bundle hissed back. In retaliation, Doro wagged his tail harder, thrilled by the argument.

  The elf slid more seed-pod keys across the desk. "Your suites are up the spiral lift. It will accept your steps. Please do not jump."

  Idalia stared at him. "Why not?"

  "Because," he said, still smiling, "it will accept your steps."

  Idalia decided she liked Verdantine's threats. They were polite.

  Once the group gathered, they moved as a begrudging amalgamation of a pack toward the spiral lift, which was not a lift so much as a circular root platform wrapped around a hollow trunk. It looked like a slice of tree that had decided to learn manners. Runes glowed in the floor, and when Lief stepped onto it, the platform rose without a sound, smooth as a floating leaf.

  Idalia stepped on and felt the floor shift under her paws, adjusting, reinforcing, politely refusing to panic. It was alive. She liked that.

  Cheyin's subordinates stepped on last, crowded together like wolves trying not to show they were impressed.

  As they rose, the inner walls of the trunk glimmered with faint carvings. They were not just decoration. Idalia could feel it. Wards. Soft ones, like hands on shoulders that said, Please behave.

  Idalia leaned close to the wall and sniffed. It smelled like resin, crystal, and something old and watchful.

  "Hotel has rules," she said.

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  Kelix nodded. "Everything here has rules."

  Idalia licked her teeth, and mused. "I will bite the rules later."

  Lief made a strangled noise.

  The platform brought them to their level and opened into a hallway that curved around the trunk like a coiled ribbon. Lanterns floated near the ceiling, their light greenish and calm. Doors lined the corridor, each one grown from living wood and polished until it looked like glass-bark.

  The suites Braunches had reserved were at the far end, where the hallway widened into a shared common room. It was beautiful in a way that made Idalia suspicious.

  Soft rugs woven from plant fibers. A low table with a bowl of decorative stones. A window-wall that looked out over the upper terraces of Verdantine, where snow drifted in lazy spirals and lights twinkled on balconies like captured starlight.

  Idalia went directly to the stone bowl and began chewing one, because it was there, and because she could. The stone hummed faintly in her teeth, like it wanted to encourage her.

  Cheyin dropped onto a couch as if it owed her comfort. Doro hopped up beside her, then hopped down again, then spun in a circle and sat as if he had completed an important ritual.

  Vestella walked to the window and placed her hands neatly at her sides, staring out at the city with a quiet intensity. Rhaya remained near her, scanning the room as if expecting the furniture to betray them.

  The scar-nosed subordinate hovered in the doorway, still staring at Vestella with baffled curiosity. "So Syljeon really does let their noble daughters travel."

  Vestella turned her head slightly. "Syljeon lets many things happen."

  Rhaya's smile was thin. "Some of them are mistakes."

  The subordinate nodded as if that made perfect sense. "That tracks."

  The sharp-eyed subordinate set her pack down and looked around. "We are sharing a wall with people from a land I have only read about."

  Kelix raised an eyebrow. "You read?"

  She frowned at him. "Do not sound surprised. We are not beasts."

  Idalia choked slightly on her stone and perked up. "I am a beast!"

  Cheyin glanced at her. "You are Idalia."

  Idalia brightened. "Yes."

  Lief was already pacing, hands fluttering as if he could rearrange reality with anxiety. "We cannot have everyone in one place. This is a security nightmare."

  Cheyin's grin returned. "Braunches did not invite us here to feel secure."

  Vestella spoke without turning from the window. "He invited us here so we would speak."

  Rhaya grumbled, "Or so we would kill each other quietly and save him paperwork."

  Cheyin's subordinates exchanged quick looks.

  The broad one finally loosened the strap on his bundle and set it down carefully, as if placing a bomb on a pillow. "Milady Cheyin, there is also a message." He reached into his cloak and pulled out a folded strip of bark-paper, sealed with a wax stamp pressed into the shape of a wave.

  Braunches.

  Cheyin took it with a skeptical squint, broke the seal, and read. Her face did something Idalia found delightful. It went from smug to annoyed to faintly impressed.

  She held it up. "He wrote rules."

  Idalia leaned forward eagerly. "Read them."

  Cheyin cleared her throat and did a very bad imitation of Braunches's calm voice. "Rule one. No duel within Verdantine's living bounds. Rule two. No binding rituals inside the hotel. Rule three. No portals inside the hotel."

  Idalia froze. Everyone froze.

  Idalia turned her head toward Cheyin. "He knows."

  Cheyin's eyes glittered. "He knows."

  Lief clasped both hands to his face like he was trying to squeeze out a better life. "He knew you would do that."

  Idalia pointed at Lief. "I did it already."

  "Rule four," Cheyin continued, "If any structure is broken, the cost will be deducted from Lief."

  Lief made a sound that was not human.

  Cheyin's grin widened. "Rule five. Breakfast at dawn. Attendance mandatory."

  Rhaya frowned. "Dawn. That is early."

  Vestella's gaze sharpened at the mention of breakfast, as if it was a strategic threat.

  Cheyin lowered the note and looked around at all of them. "He also wrote a postscript."

  Idalia's ears perked. "A post-scratch."

  Cheyin read, voice lighter now, almost amused. "There is an Orun courier in Verdantine tonight. Someone is asking questions about a monster that portals without permission. Please do not become a rumor before morning."

  Idalia sat up straighter. "Someone wants me."

  Cheyin's subordinates stiffened instantly. The sharp-eyed one's hand went to her belt, fingers brushing a hidden tool. The scar-nosed one's gaze darted to the hallway, then to the window.

  Kelix's posture tightened.

  Rhaya swore under her breath.

  Vestella turned away from the window, eyes calm but focused. "Orun courier."

  Cheyin's smile thinned. "My father's reach is long. Longer than I like."

  Idalia's tail began to swish. Not fear. Interest. "Are they bringing Papa?"

  Silence. It was a brief silence, but it landed heavy.

  Cheyin's gaze flicked to Idalia's face, then away, as if she did not want to look at something honest. "Couriers do not usually bring gifts," she said carefully. "They bring orders."

  Idalia's chest tightened anyway. She chewed her stone harder, as if biting it would turn it into answers.

  Lief lowered his hands and forced himself to speak. "If there is an Orun courier here, that means someone is watching. Verdantine is neutral ground, but neutral ground attracts spies like rot attracts flies."

  Idalia blinked. "What is rot?"

  "You are joking." Kelix glanced at her.

  Idalia blinked again. "Yes."

  Cheyin's subordinates looked at Kelix like they were deciding whether he was brave or foolish. Then the scar-nosed one spoke, voice cautious.

  "Commander, we were followed."

  Cheyin's eyes narrowed. "By who?"

  "Not elves," he said. "Not Verdantine guards. Different footsteps. Too controlled. They stopped when we stopped. They moved when we moved."

  Rhaya's expression went cold. "Orun hunters."

  Vestella's petals did not appear, but Idalia felt the air shift slightly around her, like invisible leaves stirring.

  Kelix's hand clenched on his knee.

  Idalia's stomach rumbled again, but this time it sounded less like hunger and more like a warning.

  Cheyin leaned forward on the couch, elbows on her knees, grin gone now. "If hunters are here, then this is not a coincidence. Someone wants something."

  Idalia raised a paw. "Me."

  Cheyin looked at her. "Yes. You."

  Idalia lowered her paw slowly. "Good. I want them too."

  Lief's voice went small. "Why?"

  Idalia's eyes shone. "Because they might know where Papa is."

  Cheyin's gaze sharpened at that. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. She looked less like a smug princess and more like someone holding a crack in her ribs together with stubbornness.

  Then she sat back again and forced her playfulness back into place like armor.

  "Alright," she said. "We do not fight tonight. Braunches wrote rules. The city has rules. The hotel definitely has rules."

  Idalia licked a grain of stone dust off her lip. "Rules are snacks."

  Cheyin pointed at her. "Not that."

  Rhaya stepped closer, voice low. "What do we do if hunters come to this building?"

  Cheyin's subordinates all looked to Cheyin at once, waiting. She tapped the note against her palm. "We do what we always do. We get information first."

  Vestella's eyes lifted. "And how do you intend to do that?"

  Cheyin's smile turned sly again. "We have a hero. We have a noble. We have a guardian who can scare people just by existing. We have a scholar who looks like he is about to faint at any moment. And we have a Liorex who thinks portals are party tricks."

  Idalia puffed up proudly. "They are."

  "So we make a plan that looks like a normal night."

  Lief stared at her. "Your normal nights are disasters."

  "Exactly," Cheyin said cheerfully. "No one suspects disaster. They simply experience it."

  Doro barked once, as if agreeing with philosophy.

  Cheyin stood and stretched, hoodie shifting, braid swinging like a spine. "We go to sleep. We set watches. We do not break the hotel. In the morning, we eat Braunches's dawn breakfast, we pretend we are civilized, and then tomorrow Idalia and I will do what we promised."

  Idalia's ears perked sharply at the mention of tomorrow. The duel. The leash. Papa. Her excitement flared hot again, bright as a spark in snow. But beneath it, curiosity curled.

  "Cheyin," she said, "if hunters are here, why are they asking about me and not you?"

  Cheyin's smile paused. That was answer enough for Idalia.

  Before anyone could speak again, Idalia padded toward the main table, where a small folded note sat beside the fruit basket. It hadn't been there a moment ago, or maybe it had and she had been distracted.

  The paper was thick, expensive. The wax seal was red and stamped with a divided star that looked slightly wrong, like it had been drawn by someone who had only heard about a twinkling star through rumors. At its center… butterfly wings?

  She stared at it, then looked at Lief. "Is that food?"

  "No," Lief said. "That is a note."

  Idalia sniffed it anyway. It smelled like cold metal, wet wool, and a familiar scent that made her chest tighten.

  Hirohowl's scent.