Alexia’s eyes blink open, and she stretches her arms wide, warmth lingering from a rare good night’s sleep. She slips into a pair of shorts and a neon-bright T-shirt just as Sid steps in, a glass of water in his hand.

  “You’re looking better,” he says, offering it to her.

  “Don’t you know it.” Alexia grins, pressing a hand lightly to his stomach before stealing a kiss. Her eyes flick up to his—blue and red, sharp as ever—and a spark of mischief dances across her face. “How about we watch TV… but not really watch it?”

  She tugs Sid down onto the couch, their lips colliding in a rush of kisses until they finally pull apart, breathless. Her hand traces the line of his jaw as she snags the remote and flicks on the TV.

  “Anything else I should take off?” she teases, nodding at the shorts she’s already kicked aside.

  Sid’s mismatched eyes glint with amusement as he leans closer. “We’ll see,” he murmurs. “You’re pretty cute like this.”

  They keep kissing, the world narrowing to the warmth between them—until a name from the television cuts through.

  “Sheriff Marlion.”

  Alexia freezes, her eyes snapping to the screen.

  The reporter’s voice fills the room: “It has been almost a full day since Sheriff Marlion Freeman went missing. Priest Urban reports he was last seen heading toward a house that appeared in Superior National Park.

  Sid sits up, pulling back just enough to look at her. “So… are you sure you didn’t actually want to watch TV?”

  Alexia exhales slowly, her gaze locked on the screen. “Sorry. I just got caught up thinking about my father. I wanted us to be close again, but… I never wanted him to disappear.”

  Before Sid can answer, a sharp knock rattles the door, the sound slicing through the quiet house.

  “Alexia, I need your help!” a small, panicked voice calls from outside.

  Alexia’s heart jumps. “Liddle?” She hurries to the door and pulls it open. “What happened?”

  Liddle stands there, pale and shaking. “It’s Markus. He’s missing. Lemres sent him on a quest to Fey Town, but… he never came back.”

  “What—Markus disappeared in Fey Town too?” Alexia blurts, already tugging her shorts back on and grabbing her staff.

  “I’m coming too,” Sid says, his tone steady. “It sounds dangerous.”

  Alexia wraps her arms around him in a quick hug. “Aww… I’m glad we’re finally that power couple,” she teases before pulling back with a grin. With a flick of her Mahoishi, a shimmering portal ripples open before them.

  Liddle silently pulls her hood up, bracing herself before stepping through.

  Sid glances at Alexia, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Ready,” he says, then follows Liddle into the portal.

  The three step out onto a quiet suburban street lined with identical houses—each one with pale siding, two narrow windows staring blankly out, and short-trimmed lawns that look almost too perfect. Black RVs sit parked in nearly every driveway, lined up like silent sentries.

  Liddle’s stomach knots as she catches movement: blinds snapping shut the moment anyone notices her.

  “Something’s not right about this place,” she murmurs.

  “Oh, Liddle,” Alexia says lightly, glancing around. “I kind of like how neat it all looks. Pretty impressive, considering the dragon attack wasn’t that long ago.”

  “Yeah… this isn’t Lemres’ work,” Liddle mutters as they walk.

  Up ahead, a man stands by his mailbox—blond hair, sharp blue eyes following their every step. As the three pass, Liddle’s ears twitch. She could’ve sworn she hears him murmur under his breath:

  “Go to hell, demon.”

  Her chest tightens, but when she looks back, the man is already turning away, as if nothing had been said.

  After a few more blocks of lifeless sameness, the rows of identical houses give way to a towering structure that looms over the neighborhood. The church’s pale stone walls look almost scrubbed of time, their sharp lines clashing with the quiet decay around them. A massive iron cross juts skyward from the steeple, its shadow stretching long across the narrow street like a blade. The stained-glass windows are dark, reflecting nothing of the dull daylight, while a heavy wooden door sits sealed beneath a set of shallow steps. Even here, the lawns are cut short—neat to the point of obsession—the perfection broken only by the faint rust of the church’s iron fence.

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  “Oh, look at this church—it looks so fancy,” Alexia says, her eyes lighting up. “I used to go to church with my parents when I was little.”

  “I’m sorry… your parents sound terrible,” Liddle mutters, falling a few steps behind, tugging her hood lower over her face.

  Alexia turns back with a bright, almost playful smile. “No, really—they were nice. I promise.” She skips ahead up the steps, her energy unshaken.

  Sid lingers, slowing until he matches Liddle’s pace. He offers her a small, steady smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep you safe.”

  The three of them knock on the heavy church door. After a moment, it creaks open to reveal Priest Urban—tall and smiling, his expression too warm to feel real.

  “Oh, you must be the daughter of Marlion,” he says, voice smooth as silk. “It’s an honor to meet you.” His gaze slides toward Liddle. “More than most people, anyway.”

  Alexia steps forward, polite but firm. “I heard you and my father were close. I was hoping we could talk.”

  “Him—and my husband—have both gone missing,” Liddle says, her voice trembling. “We were hoping you might know something.”

  Urban’s smile doesn’t waver. “Ah, the dragon slayer boy. Yes, I remember him. Said something about marrying a demon being a mistake. Then he went off to start a new life.”

  Each word lands like a blade twisting in Liddle’s chest.

  “What did you do to him?” she demands, her voice rising. “He must be here!”

  The priest chuckles softly, but Alexia quickly places a hand on Liddle’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” she says gently. “I’m sure it’s just an old man’s joke.

  Urban gestures toward the open doorway. “Why don’t you two come inside and we’ll talk about your father? Leave the demon outside—this is holy ground.”

  Sid hesitates. “Alexia… are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Alexia nods, though uncertainty flickers in her eyes. “Yeah. We have to know what happened to my dad.” She turns to Liddle with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Liddle. We’ll meet up when we’re done.”

  Liddle finds a tree near the church and sinks down beneath it, the grass too neatly trimmed to feel real. She folds her arms around her knees, eyes drifting toward the tall doors where Alexia and Sid disappear.

  I hope they find something… anything that can help us find Markus.

  Her thoughts tighten, the unease in her chest refusing to fade. That priest must’ve done something. Why else would he try so hard to make me move on?

  Before she can think another thought, a shadow falls across her. A blond man in a black jacket looms over her, two others flanking him like vultures.

  “Look at her—got ourselves a demon,” one of them sneers.

  Before she can scramble to her feet, a heavy hand slams her back against the tree. Another hand clamps around her throat and squeezes until she coughs, the world shrinking to a shaky breath and the burn of rough fingers.

  “What should I do with you?” the blond murmurs, his grin widening as he pulls a knife from his jacket. “Maybe we should have a little fun first.”

  The blade catches the light—then her world burns. A line of pain tears from the corner of her mouth to her ear, hot and sharp, stealing her breath. The man laughs, delighted by the sound of her gasp, and leans in closer.

  Liddle doesn’t wait for the second blow. She shoves both palms out without thinking, and a blast of white-blue air explodes from her hands. Ice cracks from the bark of the tree and lunges forward like a thrown spear. It knocks the knife from the blond’s grip with a hard clatter, sending him spinning backward. He staggers, eyes wide, as the blade skitters across the neat grass.

  “Run!” she gasps—and doesn’t give them the chance to recover. Her legs carry her past the rows of mailboxes and up the street, breath burning, the hood of her hoodie whipping behind her.

  “She’s got—” the blond swears and takes off after her. The others follow, all anger and teeth, their footsteps pounding behind her like drums.

  Liddle pushes harder, the forest’s tree line racing toward her. She darts between the trunks, branches clawing at her arms, roots trying to catch her boots. Behind her, the men splinter through the undergrowth, shouts and curses tearing through the air.

  She bursts into a small clearing and sees it—an old wooden house with carved frogs sitting on the porch rails, paint flaking but somehow welcoming. Liddle lunges up the steps and slams the screen door behind her, heart hammering. She throws the bolt and slides down the door to brace herself, panting.

  They arrive at the edge of the clearing seconds later, breath ragged, hands on their knees. “She’s in there,” one of them spits. “No one gets out of that house alive.” The blond steps forward, knife raised again, hungry for the kill.

  From the darkness beyond the porch, a calm voice speaks—soft and unhurried. The men freeze, eyes snapping toward the shadowed doorway as if they’ve suddenly remembered something worse than the demon they were hunting.

  For a heartbeat, the only sound is Liddle’s ragged breathing and the distant wind stirring the perfect, too-short grass.

  Liddle wanders through the dimly lit house, her footsteps echoing softly across the warped wooden floor. The air shimmers faintly—thick with magic. Books slide from their shelves and float lazily back into place. A dozen frogs blink from the corners, their throats pulsing in quiet rhythm as they watch her like silent sentinels.

  Then the temperature drops. Candle flames bend inward, their light twisting into long shadows that crawl up the walls.

  “Who dares to enter my house?”

  The voice comes from everywhere at once—deep, resonant, laced with something that feels like both music and thunder. Liddle freezes, her heart slamming against her ribs as a figure descends the staircase.

  Ange emerges slowly from the upper darkness. Her presence seems to bend the air itself, the light warping around her as she steps into view. A red third eye pulses faintly over her heart, ringed by shifting sigils that move like liquid light beneath her skin. Thin cords wrap across her torso with deliberate precision, glowing faintly where they touch her skin.

  “I—I’m so sorry!” Liddle stammers, dropping to her knees. “I was being chased—I didn’t know where else to go!”

  “A demon,” Ange murmurs, her voice soft now, curious. She crosses the last few steps, and the air ripples as though reality itself bends to make room for her. She reaches out, fingers hovering just above one of Liddle’s horns before lightly tracing it. “I never thought I’d see another forsaken on this cursed planet.”

  Her glowing eyes narrow—then soften. “What is your name?”

  “Liddle,” she whispers.

  Ange smiles—faint, knowing. “Then rest, little one. You are safe… for now.”

  The frogs croak once in unison, and the lights dim further, as though the house itself exhales around them.