The hall was chaos. Men fought and fell. Kael tasted metal and ash. His legs shook. Maverick sat very still on his shoulder, eyes burning like tiny suns.
"Kael," the cat said softly. "Touch my head."
Kael blinked. Everything hurt, but he did what Maverick asked. He reached up and pressed his palm to the cat's forehead. At first nothing happened. Then a little light—warm and red—flowed from Kael's hand into Maverick's fur. The light felt strange, like pouring hot iron into cold skin.
On Maverick's head the light curled and twisted. A small shape formed there—fierce and strange, like a tiny demon mask made of blood and shadow. It glowed for a heartbeat, then vanished into the cat's fur, leaving a thin, dark mark.
Maverick's eyes flashed. He drew a circle on the marble with a claw, the lines bleeding red as if the floor drank the color. The circle widened and shimmered. The cat hissed and spoke in a voice that did not sound like a cat now—deep and sharp.
"Rise, Crimson Wreath!" he cried.
The name vibrated in the air. The circle flared bright, and from its center rose something that made everyone in the hall still: a tree of red crystal grew up fast, its branches like glass, its leaves shining like drops of blood. Light spilled from it, red and cold and beautiful all at once.
Maverick's voice was hard. "We move now."
Kael tried to stand but limped forward instead. "Wait—let's take the generals too. They helped us. They fought for me."
Maverick's tail flicked. "Then call them."
Kael shouted across the hall. "Sir Garrick! Lady Seraphine! Sir Roland! Come here, quickly!"
The three generals heard him and turned, breathing hard, armor scratched and blood on their sleeves. They saw the circle and the tree and confusion passed over their faces.
"What is that?" Garrick asked.
"Come quickly!" Kael begged. "We don't have time!"
The three of them walked into the circle, wary but trusting the boy. The robed warriors and the king watched in stunned silence. Even Darius paused, uncertain.
"Stab your sword in the tree!" Maverick ordered.
Kael gripped his training sword with both hands. He staggered, moved close, and plunged the blade deep into the crystal trunk. It stuck with a clean, ringing sound. The red light around the circle thrummed like a heartbeat.
For a second nothing happened. Then the crystal pulse grew louder. The blade dissolved into glowing dust. The generals felt a tug in their bones; their faces went pale. With a sound like wind through stone, their shapes grew thin—like smoke being pulled into a narrow pipe.
They vanished.
One moment they stood in the circle. The next, they were gone.
The hall fell into a stunned silence so heavy it pressed on every chest.
Kael's knees nearly gave out. He had expected something, but not this. He looked at Maverick, who crouched low, eyes bright and urgent.
"What happened ?" Kael whispered.
Maverick's tail twitched. "Back home. I sent us all there."
Outside, near the throne, King Alden's face drained of color for the first time that night. He pointed a shaking finger toward the empty circle and bellowed, "What happened? Where did they go?"
Guards stepped forward, looking at the empty spot in the marble, then at the blood-crystal tree that glimmered strangely now, like a wound in the floor.
"Find them!" the king screamed, voice raw with panic. "Find them and kill them! Do not let them escape!"
Soldiers rushed out of the hall, armored men shouting orders as they moved to every gate. The robed warriors tightened their ranks and looked for signs of movement. The throne hall buzzed with sudden fear and fury.
Kael stood by the circle, dizzy and breathing hard. He felt something hollow in his chest—relief, and a new fear. He had helped the generals escape, but he had no idea what waiting at home would now be like. He had dragged them into his ruined world.
Maverick hopped lightly from Kael's shoulder, cat again, voice low and quick. "We bought time. Not safe time.