Hey loves! Thank you for your reviews! Yes, the plot has indeed thickened and as you will see it is only going to get stranger from here on out, because I am diabolical like that, haha! ;) But you guys know that there is always a method to my madness, so please hang on and enjoy the ride!


I am the key to the lock in your house

That keeps your toys in the basement

And if you get too far inside

You'll only see my reflection

-Radiohead

SHIELD

''I pulled those old case files you asked for, ma'am,'' Andrews said, walking into the office where the Black Widow was seated at a desk. After the events of the previous year, the young lab tech had been promoted and was now the assassin's personal assistant of sorts. She'd requested that he go searching for more missing person cases that could potentially be linked to the Restored Ones. ''And I also found something else that might be very interesting.'' The redhead raised her eyebrows at Andrews, motioned for him to continue. He took a deep, shaky breath and did so. ''In 1988, a motorist saw a young girl stumble out of the woods near where that cult is now. She was incredibly disoriented but managed to tell a very odd tale. Claimed that she'd 'fallen asleep in the forest' and gotten separated from her friends.''

''So?'' asked Natasha.

''So, after I did some digging I found out that she was a match to a much older cold case—girl went missing in the exact same area in 1953 after she'd wandered off from a group on a school picnic. She'd been presumed dead.''

''A pattern, maybe? A similar disappearance?''

''No ma'am. A match.''

''Wait...'' the Black Widow said slowly, disbelievingly.

Andrews nodded. ''It was the same girl. She hadn't aged a day.''

Natasha was very quiet for a moment, then asked, ''Where is she now?''

''Psychiatric clinic upstate, near Syracuse,'' he answered.

''Let's go pay her a visit.''


''I'm telling you, Helen's portrait is in Retnick's study. She was supposed to get married to Joe Haven, that's why she was in Paris, they were going to run away together!'' Darcy was talking so quickly that she could barely breathe. After seeing the portrait on the wall, she'd quickly excused herself from the conversation that she'd begun with the leader and had run upstairs.

''Slow down, love!'' Loki ordered, putting his hands on her arms and holding her still. She quieted a moment and took a deep breath, forced her buzzing mind to calm. ''That's better,'' he said more gently. ''Now, what's going on?''

''I went to talk to Retnick.''

Loki's lips set in a line. ''Why?''

Darcy took another deep breath, then answered gravely, ''Because I found Penelope. And Z. And all of the other people who were Restored.''

''What do you mean?'' He leaned a little closer to her. ''Where are they?''

''Out in the woods. That's where he takes them for the final ritual. And if it works, that's where he keeps them. They're...they're not really human anymore.'' She winced at the memory. ''Retnick doesn't know that I know. But...I've been talking to the gardener. His name is Ethan Montauk, and he's immortal too. He's an old friend of Retnick's, they were soldiers together during World War Two. He told me all about how this started.''

''I see.'' Loki's expression was blank. ''And how did it start?''

''Retnick had an adopted daughter named Anna-Lily,'' explained Darcy, skipping around the part where the girl's disembodied spirit occasionally appeared to her. ''She died when she was very young. And then he started collecting old grimoires and practicing some really dark magic. He wanted to find the secret to immortality. I guess he must have found it, or at least part of it. There was a man named Joe Haven, he was friends with Ethan and Retnick. Joe apparently had part of a book with some kind of secret incantations or whatever that Lugh needed, but he wanted to keep it for himself. Because he was in love with a woman, and he wanted them to be together forever. That woman was Helen. I recognized her from the portrait that he painted—Retnick kept it for some reason.''

Loki mulled this all over silently for a moment, then said, ''First, we need to figure out what was in those books—and especially what was in those missing pages.''

''Shouldn't we contact SHIELD?'' Darcy asked, almost hopefully. ''Those people chained up out there—that has to be enough to convict Retnick of something.''

''Possibly, but I still think that we should wait,'' he answered. ''SHIELD isn't going to be able to do a damn thing for those people. At best they'll be turned into experiments for awhile, and then eliminated. Also, Retnick knows who we're working for, and so he's probably going to be expecting us to contact them. I say we wait, at least a few more days.'' Loki paused, then asked, ''Why didn't you tell me this before?'' There was a tone to his voice that Darcy didn't quite like, a disappointed edge, brushed with irritation.

''You didn't tell me what happened when you had your little chat with Retnick,'' she shot back.

''Yes, but I also didn't go wandering in the woods alone! What if something had happened?'' Loki's green eyes lit with a small flare.

''What was going to happen? They're literally locked in cells!''

''They might not be the only thing out there!'' he practically yelled. Darcy narrowed her eyes at him, took a step back. ''What do you mean by that?'' she asked, crossing her arms.

Loki forced himself to calm down. He didn't understand why he'd suddenly blown up like that, and he could tell by the look on her face that Darcy wasn't pleased at all. And she had every right to feel that way. It was true—he hadn't told her everything that he'd learned right away either, and it wasn't as if she was deliberately keeping secrets. The god just hated the idea that she might be putting herself in harm's way, hated himself for not being there to protect her all the time, despised himself for allowing this place to get some sort of weird hold on him.

''Cloud told me that there's 'something strange out in the woods,' something that won't let you leave,'' he explained in a softer voice.

''What is it?''

''She didn't say.''

''I've been in those woods. Yeah, they're creepy as hell, but nothing happened to me except a major panic attack when I realized what he's been hiding out there.''

''Yes, but you didn't try to leave.''

Darcy suddenly remembered what Retnick had told her, about how Restoration wasn't for everyone, how over the years many had left. She abruptly felt very tired.

''What the hell is really going on around here?'' she asked, sinking down onto the bed.

''I don't know,'' he replied.


When Darcy headed back downstairs again later there was someone in the parlour that she had never seen before—an older, slightly round woman with blonde hair. She looked a little like the three girls from the kitchen, but her face was slightly more mobile—she seemed more human. As she bustled around, she hummed, hummed that abysmally familiar tune. Oh dear, what can the matter be...

When she noticed Darcy, she straightened up with a smile. ''Hello there,'' she said. Her eyes were indeed that same pale blue as the other women, but reacted normally to the light.

''Hello...'' Darcy replied carefully. Then, hoping that she didn't sound rude, she asked, ''Who are you, if you don't mind me asking?''

''No, dear, I don't mind at all,'' the woman replied cheerfully. ''My name is Mary, I'm the housekeeper.''

''I'm Lucy.'' Darcy was still using the fake name even though she wondered what the point in that was. ''I haven't seen you before.''

Mary kept smiling. ''Well, it's a very large house,'' she offered with a light shrug of her round shoulders. ''Lots of cobwebs and dust and places to hide.'' There was a bit of a loopy quality to her voice and demeanour that made Darcy wonder if she was altogether sane. The woman turned then and busied herself with cleaning the room. The house was very quiet, except for the sound of the broom scratching along the wooden floor. Darcy headed into the dining room again, she wanted to get another look at those stained glass windows, particularly the one with the eye inside of the tree trunk. There's a strange tree, far off in the field, Helen had said, back in Paris. Blood on the branches, blood in the soil. The ghost's words held a new and far more ominous weight given that now she was somehow a part of this mystery as well. She hadn't wanted them to come here. She had cried for days. But Darcy had insisted, and she was definitely beginning to regret that decision.

As Darcy stared at the window she heard the shuffling of Mary's feet as the housekeeper approached. She turned at the sound and was met with the woman's curious smile. ''Do the trees sing to you?'' she asked. Before Darcy could give a reply, Mary added, ''A tree does not choose its long life. It can only stand and grow and endure it, watching all the rest fade.'' And then she walked away without another word.

There was a definite feeling of unpleasantness cloaking the air, a kind of foreboding that made Darcy's stomach hurt a little. The whole house had grown more claustrophobic, the walls pressed in and breathed down her neck, waiting. She felt badly about her earlier conversation with Loki. Sure, they argued sometimes, any couple did—but she was aware that this was a time when they needed to be on the same page. And it seemed like ever since they had arrived they would fall strangely in and out of sync with each other in very polarising extremes. They'd have those weird moments when they would be drawn together in a powerful whirlwind, prompted by that intense feeling of longing that would come crashing out of nowhere. And then when those times ended he began to slip away. There was something bothering Loki, she could tell. He was starting to look more tired than usual, was growing too quiet.

And Darcy still wasn't sure how to feel about seeing Helen's portrait, either. That was most certainly not a coincidence, and it wasn't entirely comforting, either. Once again, it seemed that they were too close to what was going on, too much a part of the madness. Was this going to be their life from now on? Were she and Loki both doomed to be caught up in a web of supernatural power-struggles for the rest of their days? Darcy was beginning to feel like this was her fault. After all, she'd been the one who wanted to leave Paris. And where had it gotten them? 'Smack in the middle of a gothic horror novel, that's where,' she grumbled as she pushed open the door and walked outside.

Darcy found Ethan Montauk standing in the side garden again, frowning down at the mess of dead flowers all around his feet. ''It doesn't seem to matter what I do,'' he said wearily, scooping them up, their pale roots dangling sadly like weak strings. ''This earth grows more and more cursed every day.'' He noticed her standing there, offered one of his fleeting, lopsided grins, though now it looked more like a grimace than ever. ''You know, you can talk to Retnick until you're blue in the face, and nothing will ever change. Trust me. You'll only grow frustrated. He's gotten more stubborn over the years.''

''What's out in the woods?'' Darcy asked him. He raised an eyebrow in response. ''I'm not talking about the prison,'' she added. ''You know what I mean. There's something else, isn't there?''

His expression remained unchanged. ''They say that if you walk far enough, beyond the tree, there is a place where time stops. And you slip inside the forest's dream, out of reality, never to be seen or heard from again. I've heard mad tales, but then again...'' Ethan trailed off. ''This land is so old. Of course it's haunted. Of course it would know more than you or I. There's been all kinds of things in these woods.''


Cloud was nowhere to be found. She disappeared some time in the early evening. Darcy knew that the girl had been talking with Jason an hour or so before, and so she sought out the young man. ''Have you seen Cloud?'' she asked him. He stared at her in that annoying way that he had and then slowly shook his head. She let out a grunt of frustration and hurried out of the room and up the long flight of stairs. She knew that the young woman's bedroom was near the opposite end of the hallway. She knocked at the door, but there was no answer. After a moment she tried the knob. It turned, allowing her into the room. Darcy let out a gasp at what she found. Cloud wasn't there, but the walls of the room were literally covered in slashes of writing done with a heavy marker, some in English, some in another language that Darcy didn't know, but the script looked similar to something she'd seen in Loki's book on magickal alphabets. The words in English made very little sense, they said ''Come and be well in the Palace of Souls''.

With a shaking hand, Darcy pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the room for later reference. She noticed that the window was slightly open, the curtain rustling in the breeze. On the desk there sat a stack of books which included a printed out copy of 'her' thesis. Atop that sat a folded note, held down in place with a small paperweight. Moving closer, Darcy noticed that the note said ''Lucy'' on the top. Curious, she removed the paperweight and opened the note.

Dear Lucy,

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. Don't bother trying to look for me. I already know that I'll never be found. This is the way that it has to be. I know that you're not who you said that you were, but thank you for being so nice to me, whoever you are. Please stay out of the woods. Tell William not to dream.

Darcy read the letter over several times, then refolded it and put it in her pocket, head spinning. ''No,'' she whispered out loud into the empty room with its ruined walls. ''No!'' She hurried out, shutting the door firmly behind her. Practically sprinting down the stairs, she found herself once again impetuously on her way to barge into Retnick's office. There was no need, however—she caught the leader as he was walking down the hall. Darcy gripped his arm and he turned, glaring down at her.

''Where's Cloud?'' she demanded frantically.

''She ran,'' he answered in a stony voice. ''She wasn't strong enough for Restoration.''

''What the hell does that mean? What did you do to her?''

''As I told you before, I didn't do anything. Once she leaves, she's no longer my problem. She belongs to the forest now.'' He looked paler again, lean and hungry.

As she moved absently through the room with a broom in her hand, Mary the housekeeper chuckled, a strangely hollow sound. ''Little lambs, lost in the woods,'' she sing-songed. ''Running, running through the darkness.''

Retnick wrenched his arm from Darcy's grip and turned once again and stalked away down the hall.

Feeling impotent with rage, Darcy dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands and then, unable to help herself, let out a small shriek and swept her hand through the air. The contents of the mantelpiece—a small antique clock and several vases-were violently tossed across the room with the force of the telekinetic energy and shattered on the floor.

Mary barely even blinked at this, just sighed and dragged her broom over. ''And I'd just got done cleaning this room...'' she muttered.

Darcy sucked in a breath, forced her hands to stop shaking. Turning, her stomach turned over icily as she noticed Jason lurking in the doorway, watching the scene with a great bit of interest, as he had the night that the Well had possessed her during the Circle.


Loki was dreaming. It was night, a black and moonless night. He was outside, standing right by the path that led into the woods. At first there was no sound, only the light rustling of the tree branches. Then, off in the distance he heard a faint sound, the crying of an infant. The crying grew louder and he began to follow in the direction of the noise, passing under the dark canopy of leaves. His stomach turned over as he saw that there was a baby lying on the ground, naked except for a ragged blanket. It screamed and batted its hands in the air. He noticed that the child was covered in blood, blood that thankfully seemed to belong to someone else. Not knowing what else to do, he reached down and picked up the shrieking baby. Loki turned to leave, to head back the way that he had come, but soon realized with a cold slash of fear that the path had disappeared, everything looked exactly the same and he was disoriented. Lost.

Then there came a rustling sound and he turned with the child in his arms to see Cloud standing there amid the darkness. There seemed to be some kind of light behind her, deeper in the woods. It gave a small amount of illumination to the space. To her left stood a little girl wearing a gray dress and red shoes. The little girl said nothing, just stared ahead. The look on Cloud's face was sad, vacant. She reached her hand out to Loki. ''It's alright,'' she said. ''It's all alright, now. Come and be well in the Palace of Souls.''


Darcy suddenly felt a jolt of fear pass through her, hard and mean as a hammer against her skull. A temporary wave of dizziness overcame her and she felt her hands grow cold. Then came a kind of tearing sensation as if something was trying to pull away a part of her. Nearly numb with terror, she bolted up the stairs as fast as she could, though she was slowed by the overwhelming panic so acute that it was physically painful. She staggered down the hallway until she reached the door to their room. She reached out and turned the knob, but it didn't open. What the hell...

She didn't have time for this. Something was happening, something terrible. She felt as if someone was trying to rip her soul in half. Extending her hand, she concentrated as hard as she could and sent out a pulse of telekinetic energy directly at the doorknob, which was abruptly blown clean off of the wood. The door swung open creakingly. Loki was lying on the bed, asleep—yet it looked like he was having some kind of a night terror, he was muttering and thrashing again. Tell William not to dream.

Now Darcy was certain that it was time to be afraid, something was definitely awake and aware inside this house and it wasn't friendly, and it wasn't going to leave them alone, Vessels or not. ''Loki!'' she yelled, sprinting over and climbing onto the bed. She gripped his shoulders, tried to hold him still. ''Loki, wake up!'' At first he didn't seem to respond so she clamped her hands down on the sides of his head and spoke directly into his mind, practically screaming. Wake up now!

It took half a moment but then he blinked his eyes open foggily. ''Darcy?''

''What is happening to you?'' she asked in a hushed voice, her blood running icy with worry.

''I don't know,'' he replied honestly. Loki felt like he'd been brushing the edges of something horrible. ''I was dreaming. Though I don't really recall falling asleep. I was...walking in the woods. I heard a child crying, found an abandoned infant covered in blood so I picked it up. Then...I saw Cloud. She was standing next to a little girl. She wanted me to come with her, to someplace called the Palace of Souls.''

Darcy had now grown very, very pale. ''Was the little girl wearing a gray dress?'' she asked softly. Loki nodded. Pulling out her cell phone, she showed him the picture that she'd taken earlier, the writing on the wall. ''Cloud is gone. Retnick said that she 'ran,' because she wasn't strong enough.''

''What is the Palace of Souls?'' Loki wondered grimly.

''I think that's where she is now,'' replied Darcy. ''I've had enough. I don't care what you say—this shit ends now.'' She pulled out her cell phone to call Natasha on the secure number that the Black Widow had provided. If they ran into trouble she was supposed to call, let it ring twice, then hang up. Her eyes narrowed and her heart plummeted as she opened her list of contacts. It was empty. Every saved number in her phone had been erased. ''What the fuck...'' She looked at the lack of bars on the home screen and realized that she had no service anymore, either. ''All right, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter,'' Darcy chanted to herself in a wavering voice. ''Let's just get the hell out of here.'' Loki nodded in agreement. They grabbed a few necessary items and then quietly headed down the stairs. ''Where's the car?'' she whispered to him.

''It should still be parked around the side by the front entrance,'' he replied.

''Let's hope so.''

Unfortunately, before they could make the foyer, Retnick appeared, an uncomfortable smile on his face. ''If I might have a word with the two of you in private,'' he said. Loki and Darcy looked sideways at each other. ''Alright,'' Loki answered, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly. They followed the leader down the hall to his study. Darcy mentally steeled herself to fight if she had to, recalling every defensive spell that Loki had taught her.

Retnick firmly shut the door and then turned to face them. ''The walls have ears,'' he said. ''But not in this room. I've made sure of that.'' He narrowed his eyes. ''Whatever you both think that you know, you're miles off target. I'm a very old man and generally I don't like surprises. And you two have surprised me. See, anyone else wouldn't have lasted this long. They would have called back to headquarters and had a swat team here within two days of arriving and then we would all have had a very large mess on our hands. But you're different. And in this place, unfortunately, that tends to attract a bit of attention from some. I must admit,'' he added, ''you are a most intriguing pair. I'm so happy to see that people like you exist, it makes me feel saner.''

Retnick leaned down close to Darcy's face, looked right into her eyes with a long and very cold stare.''A long life...'' he muttered. ''You have no idea how long it can actually be. Your heart is going to break over and over again until you force yourself to turn to stone. This is how you create a bitter and vengeful goddess. Stones and water and death by the sea. I've been around for a very long time too.'' He gave them both a faraway look, he seemed to have slipped into one of his odd twilight-moments, those times when he became like a dreamy and forgetful old man teetering on the borders of delirium.

''Borrowed time,'' sneered Loki.

Retnick glared pointedly at him. ''It's all borrowed time, my dear boy.''

''You drain the life from innocent people and funnel it so that you can live forever,'' Darcy snapped at the leader. ''That's more than borrowing. It's murder.''

''Maybe others died so that you could live forever too!'' Retnick spat. ''You little hypocrite. Nothing comes free. But for my part I took nothing that wasn't offered willingly.''

So he was still singing that tired song. ''Those bodies buried in the woods, the ones that were found,'' Darcy demanded bluntly. ''What...what were they?''

He stared out the window, a revolted frown dragging down the corners of his mouth.''Those that died during the final ritual. They were grotesque. Weak. Vessels that could not hold.''

''You mean you didn't get to suck out their life force? Oh, how sad for you!'' Darcy knew that she was treading on dangerous ground with her sarcastic attitude, but she was too far past the point of caring. ''What are you going to do with the Restorations that work?'' she asked Retnick pointedly. ''Your prison is getting full.''

A weak half-smile, half-sneer ghosted across his face.''That is not for you to worry about, my dear.''

''You need to stop calling things through whatever door you've got open,'' spoke up Loki. His tone was matter of fact as he attempted to reason with the leader. ''You know this land has a very dangerous energy to it, it's amplifying the work that you do. But it's going to pull that portal open wider and wider and then not even you will be able to control what happens. These...beings, or gods, or whatever you call them—they won't just be sliding througb one at a time and giving you life forces in exchange for bodies. They won't have any need for you as middle man anymore.''

''The way I do things now can sometimes be unpleasant but necessary,'' Retnick answered. ''I am very careful. And I am, at the core of it, performing a service to the universe, to the gods and mortals both. We are cursed beings but we can be made stronger. They can help us.''

''They're turning people into monsters—this isn't supposed to happen, it's against nature!'' Darcy cried.

He rounded on her furiously. ''Who are you to tell me about nature? Oh you are a curious abomination,'' he hissed.

''You conjured things that you had no business conjuring, all because you wanted power over life and death. You used those people as bait.''

''It was their desire,'' he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

''What gives you the right to decide that?'' she practically shrieked.

''Uppity little miss,'' Retnick chuckled, shaking his head. ''You both really should run along, you're of no use to me now. Wasted Vessels.'' He looked at them with an offensively pitying gaze. ''Thank you for your interest.'' He waved his hand at Loki and Darcy and suddenly it felt as though they had been lifted up and thrown violently against a brick wall, and then everything crashed into darkness.