Milada paced her room. Her fingertips tingled with cold; despite the fire in the hearth, she could not shake the chill. Worse was the ache low in her ribs, a dull throb that pulsed and receded in a rhythm she knew all too well. When Theron had woven her and Areilycus into existence, he had split a shard of starlight between them, a bone-deep link. It lay beneath her right breast, a small curve of silver rib guarding her heart. When Ari laughed, it hummed warmth. When he hurt, it burned. Now it flared hot and sharp, as if his pain had reached across the palace to find her.
She went to the door. Zora lay curled beneath the window, her steel fur gleaming in the low light. The hellcat's slitted pupils widened as Milada reached for the handle. With a low growl, the creature uncoiled and padded toward her. Metal fur slid against stone.
"Move," Milada whispered. "Please."
Zora's answer was to grow. The little cat rippled, each strand of fur elongating into a blade. Within heartbeats, a puma stood where the kitten had been. Its muscles were corded, its eyes like molten iron. When Milada took another step, the puma barred its fangs, breath smelling faintly of smoke. She felt a breeze stir as Zora's lips pulled back from steel teeth. One swipe at her throat, and the voice that anchored storms would be gone. She lifted her hands, palms out.
"All right. I'll stay." Her rib throbbed again, and her fists clenched at her sides. "Traitor."
Zora's answer was to grow. The little cat rippled, each strand of fur elongating into a blade. Within heartbeats, a puma stood where the kitten had been. Its muscles were corded, its eyes like molten iron. When Milada took another step, the puma barred its fangs, breath smelling faintly of smoke. She felt a breeze stir as Zora's lips pulled back from steel teeth. One swipe at her throat, and the voice that anchored storms would be gone. She lifted her hands, palms out.
"All right. I'll stay." Her rib throbbed again, and her fists clenched at her sides.
Milada wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to imagine Ari doubled over somewhere in the palace, breathless with pain. Moments later, Zora returned, jaws clenched around something that glittered. She dropped it in Milada's lap. It was a knot of diamond cords, intricately braided. "A travel book?" she asked incredulously. "Zora, I can't leave Tripolis. None of us can." The cat butted its head against her hand, insistently.
She took the knot. For a moment it was only stone. Then she let a trickle of power seep through her fingers. The molecular bonds shifted under her touch. The diamond softened, unwinding itself. Sheets of metal folded out like petals, thin pages that shimmered with images and script. A book unfurled across her knees, each page alive. Milada sucked in a breath.
The moving sketches showed a single continent surrounded by endless ocean under alien stars. Twelve seas separated by reefs and storms, and on one thin strip of land a city shone: markets overflowing with exotic produce, rows of fishing boats, taverns spilling laughter and song. She saw beings of every hue and shape—dark skin, pale skin, blue skin; people with scales instead of legs; women with braided hair and men with coral piercings; children racing along docks where great fish were gutted and salted. It was chaos and beauty, and everyone in the images seemed alive with a joy she had never seen on Tripolis.
"What is this?" she whispered. A name glittered at the top of the page: Kaen. The Cradle Realm, she realized. This was one of the eight worlds Theron guarded.
She had always guessed the Por o Por bridge led somewhere, but she had never imagined this.
Zora pressed her wet nose to Milada's wrist, then trotted to the door. She scratched at it, then looked back, tail flicking.
"You want me to go?" Milada asked. The hellcat blinked once, slowly. Her rib burned again, and decision hardened in her chest. She closed the travel book—its pages folded back into a diamond knot—and slipped it under her pillow. Then she rose and followed Zora.
The hallways were empty, the usual hum of Celestial life replaced by a quiet that made her skin itch. The hellcat led her past tapestries that depicted the creation of worlds, past alcoves where servants would usually gossip, down a corridor draped in shadows. At the far end, two massive doors of silverwood marked Areilycus's chambers. Zora stopped before them and sat, her tail curling neatly over her paws. She sneezed—a spray of sparks that died before they touched the floor.
Milada placed a hand against the cold metal. "I'm coming," she whispered, more to the ache in her rib than to the cat. When she pushed, the door swung inward.
***
The bone they shared—a sliver of his, embedded in her side—had gone hot and then cold as the storm faltered. The pain had driven her from her room along with Zora's encouragement.
Areilycus's rooms were twice the size of her own, marble and glass and silk spilling over each other. A mosaic of Sibelle glowed on the ceiling, constellations inlaid with bits of amber. Pillars of quartz rose like frozen lightning around a vast bed draped in sheer gauze. Tapestries woven from starlight covered the walls. A fountain carved from one of the moons burbled in the corner, its water shimmering gold. The air was warm, scented with cedar.
He lay across the bed, limbs splayed, chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged pulls. Sweat soaked his curls. Gold veins usually traced under his skin like sun‑lit rivers; now they pulsed a light, cold blue. Ice was dripping off him. When Milada lifted his hand and pinched the pad of his finger, the drop that welled up was not the shimmering liquid light all Celestials bled but bright red blood. It glistened like rubies against her pale skin.
"Shit," she whispered, the word tasting like ash. Panic clawed at the base of her throat. The rib in her side flared again, echoing his pain. Her fingers went numb.
Zora leapt onto the bed, her sleek form rippling. The hellcat's scales flattened, steel fur shimmering as she pressed her nose to Ari's hand and licked. She clambered onto his chest, paws kneading gently as if trying to soothe the burning beneath. Then she turned to Milada, eyes glowing ember‑red, and let out a deep rumble. She pawed at Ari's face once, twice, then fixed Milada with an insistent stare.
"You want me to take him to Kaen?" Milada asked, voice barely above a breath. Zora's tail flicked, the tip striking Milada's arm like a yes. She sprang from Ari's chest into Milada's arms, heavier than a hellcat her size had any right to be, pressing her warm body against Milada's chest.
"And take you with me?" Milada murmured, half to herself. The hellcat chuffed, then dug her claws gently into Milada's sleeve and huffed again, as if to say of course.
Milada's mind raced.
"No one knows where Por o Por Bridge is. And only Theron can use it anyway." The protest sounded weak even to her own ears. Zora's ears flattened; she let out a string of guttural sounds that might have been curses if Milada spoke feline. She jumped down, paced to the door, pawed at it, and glanced back over her shoulder with a glare.
Of all of them, only Vectra and Zora were always at Theron's side. If the cat wanted her to defy orders, maybe there was a reason. Milada swallowed hard. She slid her arms under Ari's limp body. He was heavy—heavier than the lean muscles suggested—but she gathered her strength, hoisted him onto her back, his head lolling against her shoulder. Red blood smudged her tunic. Her shared rib throbbed again.
"All right, screw it," she said, adjusting her grip and breathing through the pain. "Lead me, then."
Zora sprang to the door, pushed it open with a swipe of her paw, and trotted into the corridor. Milada followed, her burden shifting with each step, her heart pounding.