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Chapter Fifty-Two: A Familiar Stranger

Ilyria held the token between her hands. At first nothing happened. There was no mist. The ground beneath her feet was still the stone of the House of Madame Skia, and when she looked up and looked around, she saw …

… the faces of her friends as though through a dark veil. They stared toward her but no longer at her. She saw Flame’s confusion. She watched Fierce flapping and hovering, claws outstretched. Fierce was just outside the veil and Ilyria knew that she would be able to pass through.

“No, Fierce,” she said, and her voice echoed in the strange space. Her breath came in puffs of white cloud as though it were cold, yet her skin prickled with moisture and warmth. Fierce tilted her head, then flapped a few more times and went to settle on Miasma’s shoulder. Miasma winced as Fierce settled by making biscuits with her paws. She is no dragon, thought Ilyria, all cat.

Ilyria turned in the darkening space, her steps sounding muffled against th

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