Rapunzel was understandably shaken by the news, but she appeared more collected than Eugene thought she would be. She sat inside the carriage, her hands pressed over the message in her lap. Eugene could see the muscles in her neck were tight, and her eyes were wide and unblinking. But when she spoke, her voice was fairly calm.

"Eugene," she said. "There's nothing we can do about this now."

"I know," Eugene answered, his arms folded. A headache had started to throb in his left temple. "But I didn't want to keep this a secret from you. I mean, it's addressed to you, anyway. If the king wanted you to know, then I'm not about to keep it to myself."

"Thank you," Rapunzel said warmly. "I'm glad you told me, Eugene. I think you're right, though. I don't think Varian will come after us. He's already learned the hard way that I can't help him."

Eugene frowned. "Yeah, but it makes you wonder what else he's going to do."

Rapunzel sighed. She folded the letter and tapped her leg with it. "Whatever it is he has planned, I can only hope he doesn't hurt anyone else. I just…I know he was desperate. He wanted to help people, once. I can't shake the feeling that there's still a part of him that wants to make things right."

"Even if that is true, he goes about it the wrong way," Cassandra said from her spot in the corner. Her eyes peered out across the room in narrow slits. "Look, I want to believe that Varian has changed as much as the next person, but he doesn't demonstrate that very well when he escapes from prison!"

Eugene nodded reluctantly. "That is something Evil Varian would do."

Rapunzel winced. "Evil's such a strong word," she admitted aloud.

Cassandra coughed in disbelief. "A strong word?" She stepped towards the princess, gesturing with her hands. "Rapunzel, he threatened to kill your mother. He threatened to kill you! I don't know what your definition of evil is, but that fits mine pretty well."

"I've seen evil," Rapunzel said, her expression growing dark and bitter. "It held me captive for eighteen years."

Cassandra opened her mouth to make a retort, then wisely chose to keep quiet.

Rapunzel stood, placing the letter up on the carriage's mantel. Her long braid of hair brushed the floor as she looked at her friends. "All Varian wants is his father back. That's a better excuse than Gothel ever had. Whatever it is he's planning, all we can do is hope that he won't cause any more trouble than he already has. And if he does…then I hope my dad can find him soon."

Eugene reached for her shoulders and pulled her close. "At least the king knows you're in good hands," he reminded her as he kissed her cheek. "Well, now that we've aired this out in the open like a wet sock, how about some lunch? I don't know about you, but talking about escaped convicts makes me mad thirsty!"

Upon entering the Crimson Caster's cabin, Varian was abruptly greeted by the sight of a floating knife in his face. He gave a startled yelp and threw his hands up to defend himself. Rudiger growled at it, vibrating threateningly on his shoulder.

The girl turned and gasped, snatching the knife by the handle. "Knife," she scolded the blade in a desperate hiss. "He is not an intruder. He's a friend. Go on now." She released the knife and shooed it back to its home in a wooden block on the table. "I'm so sorry," she turned to face Varian. "My mother's cutlery is a little…sensitive."

"Right," Varian said with a nervous chuckle. "I'm not even going to ask how that's a thing." He slowly lowered his hands as he looked around the cabin. It was a small space with a long table set in front of a warm fireplace, flanked by shelves filled with books, scrolls, vials, flasks, and bottles of ingredients and contents Varian could only guess at. A padded rocking chair stood in the corner, hand-carved and dark-stained. The hare that had greeted him outside seemed to be sleeping on the chair cushion, its nose twitching as it dozed. The floor was swept clean, and a faded knit rug led to a short stairway to the second floor. Two glowing glass orbs hung from the ceiling, spilling rosy light over the girl's embarrassed face as she quickly closed a large book she had spread out on the table's surface. A cauldron the size of a pumpkin bubbled with a strange substance next to the book; Varian saw no flames beneath its cast iron belly, but he could smell something sweet from it, like honeysuckle.

"So," he started in what he hoped was an amicable tone. "I take it your mom's not a scientist."

The girl shook her head. "Did you want to sit down?" she offered shyly, pointing to a chair at the table. There were only two of them, one of which was hardly more than a stool. "I really am sorry about that," she apologized again. "I should have warned the house before letting you in."

Varian cocked an eyebrow and exchanged disbelieving looks with Rudiger as he chose the stool and sat with his elbows propped on the table's surface. "Warn the house? You sure you haven't been here by yourself for just a little too long?"

But the girl didn't seem to be paying attention. She had crossed over to a shelf on the right, running a thin finger across thick spines. She finally found the one she was looking for and carefully pulled it out. "On the table, last page," she said under her breath, and the book zoomed out of her hand, settling on the wood grain. Varian stared at the display, watching in awestruck wonder as the book unfurled its crinkling, yellow pages until it settled somewhere near the middle of its contents. The page on the left was written in what Varian recognized as Celtic script. The page on the right was empty, signifying the final entry. The girl coaxed the other, closed book through the air with a beckoning hand and placed it on the shelf before crossing slowly back over. "My mother wrote all her notes in her native language," she explained. "That wouldn't be a problem for me, but she also used some sort of code as well. I've tried to decipher it, but…"

"Let me see," Varian offered his hand. The girl looked uncertain, but she slid the book on the table towards him. He turned it to face him and studied the characters, muttering under his breath.

"You can read Celtic?" the girl asked, surprised.

Under normal circumstances, Varian might have taken the opportunity to boast the many languages he could read and write. Here, he only said, "Among others." His heart leapt when he noticed the same cryptic symbol as the one on his father's mysterious items in the corner; the girl had been telling the truth. He could feel Rudiger's furry ears tickle under his chin as the raccoon sniffed at the pages. "That's not too bad," Varian admitted aloud. "I mean, it's not a difficult cipher. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"House," the girl said. "Pen and paper, please."

Varian heard a clunk from the second floor, then watched as an inkwell, quill, and piece of parchment floated down the stairs. Varian couldn't hold it in anymore. "How are you doing that?" He asked incredulously.

The girl's shoulders slowly rose to her ears. "Magic?"

Varian reached for his temple, tapping it with his gloved fingers. "I hate to break it to you, sister, but I don't believe in magic. Magic is a copout word, an all-encompassing term to attempt to satisfy the demands of reasonable explanation. I'm a scientist, in case you can't tell, which means that I'm having just a little difficulty trying to understand how your household items are defying a very basic law of physics."

The girl's brow twitched into a perplexed frown. "If you don't believe in magic," she asked quietly, "then why are you here?"

Varian sighed sharply. "Because, for one thing, I thought your mother was like me." He reached for his bag and pulled out a few compounds for her to see. He also revealed his own collection of notes and formulas: leaflets bound and pinned together. "I don't work with magic. I didn't come here for parlor tricks and streetwise sleight-of-hand. I can find that on any corner of Corona. I came here to find a way to save my father."

The girl stared at his belongings, her orange eye unblinking. "What is this?" she dared to ask, pointing at a vial of pink substance.

"It's just a bioluminescent agent," Varian answered.

The girl turned and crossed to a shelf on the other side of the room. She opened a drawer near the bottom and pulled out a similar vial, filled with the very same pink liquid. She closed the drawer and brought it to Varian, placing it next to his on the table.

Varian stared at it. "May I?" he picked it up and examined the contents under his nose. He pulled out a small, microscopic eyeglass from his bag, pressed it to his eye, and focused it on the vial. "It's the same reaction," he wondered aloud. "So then…your mother is an alchemist?"

The girl shook her head; her black hair still covered her right eye. "I made this. It's a stabilizing element for when I make energy draughts. If I don't use it, the draught becomes a poison. You've made the same element for a different purpose, but it's still the same."

Varian's right eye started to twitch. He realized he was leaning dangerously close to the table, and Rudiger squirmed out from under him. "Your trying to tell me that what I've been doing is making magical components?"

"No," the girl said quickly, a hint of alarm to her voice. "No, it's not like that. What I'm trying to say is that…well…" She began to gnaw on her lower lip as she struggled to find the right words. "If alchemy can create one thing and magic can make the same thing, then is it so hard to believe that it's real?"

"But alchemy can't make things float in the air!" Varian exclaimed. "You can't just conveniently take something out that matches what I've made and expect it to answer how you're able to – seriously?!"

"Back," the girl told the knife that had reappeared in Varian's face. The knife retreated haltingly, as if reluctant to return to the block. The girl sighed shakily. "I-I can't explain it in words," she resigned anxiously. "I guess…you'll just have to take it on faith."

Varian glared at her. "Fine," he gritted out, sitting back. "Let's just see if I can decipher this." As he started scratching out things on the paper, he realized that the girl was just staring at him. "The name's Varian, by the way," he told her; considering how little it seemed she'd gotten out of the cabin, he took the gamble that she probably wouldn't recognize it. "You have a name?" he asked absently. He didn't hear anything for a moment and realized that the girl had nodded her head. "Do I get to know this name, or do you want me to just call you, 'girl'?"

"Oh," the girl stuttered. "It's Shay. My name is Shay."

"Pleasure." Varian felt a spark of insight light his brain. "That key seems to work." He flattened his hasty notes down and began to trace the Crimson Caster's entry with his finger. "It looks like your mother was searching for some kind of crypt. She tracked it down to someplace east of here. It doesn't look like she was planning on being gone for seven years – she says a week here, at most."

"That's what she told me before she left," Shay agreed breathlessly. "But she didn't tell me where she was going. I think I know what crypt she means, though. The door to it is sealed, it can't be opened."

Varian snapped his face up to look at her. His eyes were wild with anticipation. "Can you show me?" he asked. Rudiger sensed his excitement and leapt up onto the table, blinking at the symbol on the journal entry.

Shay looked uncertain. "Well, yes. But I told you, the door is sealed shut."

"Maybe you can't open it," Varian stood and swept his things back into his bag. "But I can."

"How?"

"I have my ways." He closed the Crimson Caster's journal and held it up. "Do you mind if I take this with me? She may have other notes I can use."

The girl's timid face became a frozen mask. She snatched the journal out of his hand. "My mother's book stays with me," she said, holding it to her chest. Her voice was still quiet, but there was an edge to it. She set the book down on her side of the table and stared up at him. "If you do manage to open that door...then I'm going into the crypt with you."

Varian made exaggerated motions with his head as he looked her up and down. "No offense, but you don't exactly look like someone who can fend for herself. This place could be dangerous."

Shay pursed her lips. "Isn't that what big, strong men like you are for?"

Varian couldn't decide whether to be flattered or whether to interpret her question as a snide shot. "All I'm saying is, I have myself to look after. If something happens, don't expect me to stick my neck out for you."

Shay's eye narrowed. "I won't," she said firmly.

Varian frowned, then slung his bag over his shoulder. "How far is it?"

"Half a day on foot," the girl answered. She snapped her fingers at her mother's journal, and it fizzled out of sight in a shimmer of crimson sparks as she made her way around the table. "Wait here," she told him as she climbed the stairs. She returned with a faded green cloak around her shoulders, and she snapped her fingers again at the fireplace. The flames immediately died as she turned to the hare on the rocking chair. "I'll be back, Killy," she whispered, stroking the hare's downy head. "Stay here. I won't be gone long, I promise."

Varian felt his nose wrinkle at the girl's words. He almost told her not to make promises she couldn't keep, but he decided it wouldn't be wise to alienate his guide. "After you," he said, gesturing to the door. Besides, she was probably right. This crypt was probably just a glorified cave, and the worst that could happen would be if Varian couldn't open the door. Of course, if that happened, then he would just have to make a door of his own. He'd made it this far.

He hadn't let a kingdom stand in his way. Stone walls would be no different.