ZURI

Fallon slowed, her ears flicking forward, eyes catching sight of something not far away. “There,” she murmured in my mind.

Through her vision, I saw it. A shimmer of steel and glass half-swallowed by roots and vines. A cage. Inside, Princess Leila lay slumped, hair spilling across her face. The faint pulse at her throat told me she was sleeping. Fallon took one cautious step forward. Then froze.

From the treeline, two shadows detached themselves–massive, wrong, ...