Between the gnarled trees, a wooden cottage came into view. Yellow and green moss blanketed the roof like fur, with a stone chimney poking through the top. A triangular bump jutted from the upper floor, housing a single window. Sunbeams pierced the canopy, bathing the structure in a warm glow.

Orion’s house. A thrill ran through Cody. They had finally arrived. It had been two days since he’d left the Valley of Men. Clearly, Orion didn’t care much for its residents—otherwise he wouldn’t have chosen to live all the way out here.

Basil had remained a mystery. Despite Cody’s barrage of curious questions, the cat had only ever answered with a cryptic smile. At times, it had made him doubt whether Orion really was his master. But with no better leads, he had kept following the creature.

Moss hadn’t left his side. He radiated pride after scaring Luther off, now walking with his shoulders squared. More than once, he had mentioned maybe having a shot with Oak. Cody truly hoped so. It was obvious the ogre was head over heels for her—Cody could now recite every detail about her from memory.

It had been a welcome distraction from darker thoughts. Since yesterday, his hands had started trembling and tingling more often, and a throbbing headache pulsed behind his eyes, sometimes bringing dark spots with it. He feared he’d inhaled or touched something poisonous. All the warnings about the forest haunted his thoughts. Was he about to lose his mind? What would happen to the rest of Holtgaard if their memories vanished too? They wouldn’t remember the dangers. They might wander here as well—with all the consequences that implied.

The questions vanished the moment his vision cleared again. Orion’s house. He noticed both Basil and Moss staring at him expectantly, as if they had just asked a question he’d completely missed.

“Sorry.” He raked a hand through his curls and took a deep breath. Stepping forward, he waded into the ankle-high grass leading to the cozy porch. The house was surrounded by stone planters bursting with colorful flowers. His mouth curled into a surprised smile when he spotted grassy little creatures humming as they pruned branches and watered the soil with miniature watering cans.

The lawn around the house was neatly kept—probably also by the grassfolk—and to the right stood a towering sandcastle, twice his height and featuring four flat-topped towers. A cat lay on one of them. Unlike Basil, her scales began at the chest; her head and shoulders were covered in lilac fur. Two wings folded neatly along her back.

She lifted her head, as if sensing his gaze. Gracefully, she stood, stretched like someone waking from a deep nap, and unfurled her wings. Sunlight glinted off her scales.

“Show-off,” Basil grumbled.

“Well, look who finally came back.” Her high-pitched voice had a sharp edge. “We thought you’d never return. How long has it been—three weeks?”

“I had good reason. What I’ve found will greatly please the master.”

The purple cat studied Cody from atop her tower. “Is that the real one?”

“Of course he’s the real one,” Basil snapped.

“And who’s that walking rock pile?” She leapt from the tower and landed beside Cody. With her tail swishing and her wings lightly quivering, she circled Moss, sniffing him. “That moss smells lovely. Edible.”

“Whoa, hold on now!” Moss stepped back, nearly crushing her as she hissed and darted away. “Oops. But if you eat me, I’ll fall apart, lady.”

“Lady.” She purred contentedly. “He can stay.”

Cody’s attention drifted. He had expected Orion to come out at all the noise, but the cottage door remained closed. “Is Orion home?”

“No, darling. Astoria and he took a trip to the coast. They won’t be back for another two days.”

Two days? And who was Astoria? Another cat—or a partner? Cody didn’t dare ask. It shouldn’t matter. He had Fleur. Just thinking of her made his fingertips tingle. He imagined them gliding through her blonde hair, soft as down. She looked up at him with a smile.

Then the image faded again. His heart gave a painful twist. It wasn’t longing, exactly—more like something had tied itself around his chest and suddenly yanked.

Dazed, he rubbed the sore spot with his fist. “So Orion isn’t here,” he said with a sigh.

“That’s alright. He’ll come eventually.” Basil started moving again. “Come, I’ll show you inside.”

Cody let go of his disappointment and followed the scaled cat. As he neared the flowers, the grassfolk began whispering excitedly among themselves. Curious, Cody knelt to get a better look. They weren’t made entirely of grass, as he had first thought. They were the length of his fingers, shaped like tiny people. Their green skin was partly covered by mossy skirts and dresses. Tufts of grass sprouted from their heads. Their eyes were striking—large and bright blue. Cody counted about ten of them, one using a walking stick.

“What are you?” he asked, intrigued.

“Grasslanders,” replied one of the smallest, her squeaky voice barely audible. “We’ve been tending this garden for generations!”

“Generations?” Cody looked up at the cottage. It did look far too old to have been built by Orion himself. “Do any other people live here besides Orion?”

The grassland girl shook her head. “No. I’ve never seen other people. But my papa has—haven’t you, Papa?”

A Grasslander wearing a daisy as a hat nodded. A wistful smile played on his lips, but he said nothing. A heavy silence fell.

Cody’s knees cracked as he stood. He bid the grassfolk goodbye and climbed the creaking steps to the small porch. His hand found the doorknob—and paused. Could he really just walk into Orion’s home? Hesitant, he glanced over his shoulder. Moss lingered in the shadows of the trees. The cats had followed him, and Basil nudged Cody’s knee with his head, tail flicking.

“Go on. He wouldn’t want us to leave you standing outside.”

Cody turned the knob and stepped inside. He still didn’t understand how the cats knew about him. Had Orion spoken of him? For a moment, it felt like his blood bubbled beneath his skin. The sensation gathered in his fingers, now throbbing with pain. He quickly lifted his hand. Nothing visible.

Clutching his aching fingers, he took in the room. Sunlight poured in through small arched windows. To his left stood a large stone fireplace, with a round table in front of it and three chairs upholstered in violet fabric. A simple chandelier hung overhead. Logs were stacked neatly against the wall. On the other side of the room was a rough wooden table and a small, modest kitchen. Cushions were scattered everywhere—likely for the cats—and colorful flowers grew on vines along the walls, curling around the windows.

The air smelled fresh, like nature itself.

Cody noticed movement in a hallway across the room.

“Orion? Are you home?” A red tomcat waddled out of the hallway, his belly dragging along the floor. He froze when he spotted Cody.

Cody gave a sheepish wave. “Hi. The other cats told me to come in.”

“Oh, a visitor!” The cat tilted his head. “I remember you! When I was a kitten, I’d sneak into your herb garden and chase butterflies. I loved your strawberries.”

Cody smiled. He remembered Orion’s red-and-white kitten. Though the color remained the same, the rest of him didn’t—the cat had grown enormously round. That couldn’t be healthy. “So you were our strawberry thief. My aunt always blamed me.” He winked and stepped closer to the hallway. “I’m pretty tired from the trip. Is there a spot where I could rest? With all these cushions around, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“A spot? Nonsense! Come, I’ll take you to Orion’s bedroom.”

His bedroom? Cody felt his cheeks flush. “That’s really not necessary. It feels way too personal.”

“Personal?” The cat chuckled with a low purr. “We don’t do ‘personal’ here. Everyone’s welcome—except in Lady Nezumi’s palace.” The cat’s whiskers twitched. Cody couldn’t quite tell how he felt about the purple, winged feline, but something about her clearly stirred him. With a human-like sigh, the cat glanced at the stairs just a few paces away.

“I’ll find it myself,” Cody said quickly. “No need for you to climb all the way up again.”

Relieved, the cat flopped down. “First room on the right. If you want to freshen up first, that’s the room next door.”

Cody stepped over him and climbed the stairs, which were covered in tiny flowers like a living carpet. At the top landing, he found three doors. The one on the left was shut—and oddly, had two doorknobs: one at knee height, the other normal.

The first door on the right was slightly ajar. He peeked inside—and his jaw dropped.

There was a tree in the room.

Half of it had been hollowed out into an arch beneath which two pillows rested on a bed. The bedspread matched the moss clinging to the tree, which spread its thick branches to support the roof. There were no leaves, but clusters of red-and-white mushrooms grew everywhere. Hanging from the ceiling were glass orbs swirling with golden mist.

A low table sat across from the bed, with a chair draped in clothes. A dark brown jacket with gemstone-covered shoulders. Bright feathers adorned it, forming shoulder-plumes that gave the garment a princely flair. Cody could easily picture Orion wearing it; he had always hated the plain cloaks worn in Holtgaard. Said they were dull, uninspiring—like so many things.

With a faint smile, Cody brushed his fingers over the gems and feathers. A shiver ran through him. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d found Orion’s home. That he only had to wait for the boy—now a man—to open that door and greet him.

A sudden dizziness made him shut his eyes. The tingling in his fingers returned. He really needed to lie down. Though it felt like an intrusion to lie in someone else’s bed, he pulled off his boots, shrugged off his cloak, and climbed on the bed. He lay atop the blankets but nestled his head into the pillow.

The scent surrounding him embraced him like a hug he’d never thought he’d feel again.

He closed his eyes, ignored the stabs in his fingers, and surrendered to exhaustion.

And he dreamed. Of Orion, draped in feathers and gemstones, his smile as bright as the sun—and a shadow, black as ink, gliding over the grass they were dancing on as it crept toward them.