Queen Arianna started awake in her chair; the book she had been reading fell from her fingers and tumbled onto the polished floor by her slippered feet. She blinked in surprise at her husband's endearing face, his hand perched lightly on her delicate shoulder. "Frederick!" She pressed a startled hand to her breast. "I'm sorry, I wasn't planning on dozing off like that."

"That's quite alright, dear," the king told her as he stooped to pick up her book. "It must not be a very engaging read."

"Oh, it is," the queen insisted, taking the book back with a grateful smile. She yawned widely, placing a fragile hand over her mouth. "It's just…" Her hand fell into her lap. "Well, you know I haven't been sleeping very well, lately."

"I noticed," Frederick nodded knowingly. "I'm sorry, I've been busier these past two weeks."

"Heaven's sake, what time is it?" Arianna noticed the afternoon sun outside the tall window and sighed, spreading her fingers over the book's embossed cover. "Time to wake up, clearly." Her thoughts caught up to her as she exhaled the last few cobwebs of sleep from her body. "Have we heard anything from her?" she asked suddenly.

Frederick's soft expression turned into a frown. The fiery sunlight lit the silver in his beard. "Not yet, but I'm sure she received the message."

The queen set her book on the end table beside her and stood to embrace her husband. "I'm scared, Fred," she admitted in a whisper.

"Don't worry, love," the king said, tucking her close as he kissed her hair. "No one will ever take you from me again."

"No," Arianna pulled back, staring up into his face. "I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about her. What if something's happened?" She ducked her head to hide the tears that had started to well in her eyes. "Fred, I just can't help but feel like it was a mistake, letting her go."

"I know, Arianna," the king took her shoulders and forced a gentle smile. "But you saw what happened when I tried to keep her here. After what happened in Old Corona, if I'd still insisted…" He shook his head. "She probably would have left, no matter what I'd said. She is a free spirit, our little flower."

"So, she is." The queen flicked a tear from her cheek. "I miss her."

"I do too, dear. If her returning after eighteen years has taught me anything, it's that she'll be alright. As for Quirin's boy, whatever he's up to…we will find him eventually, one way or another. But now is not the time for grim dwelling. We have a dinner to eat and western trade routes to discuss."

The queen actually smirked. "You sure know how to keep a girl entertained, Fred."

"I try."

It was nearly midnight by the time Varian and Shay reached the door to the crypt.

Varian still wasn't entirely certain how Shay managed to navigate their way through the Haderon Forest; she had no map, no compass, but even as the light of day faded, her pace didn't slow. She also didn't say a word for hours, leaving Varian pondering in silence as she led him down slopes riddled with knobby tree roots and over shallow streams filled with tiny minnows. As night fell, Varian found a decent branch and stripped it down before tying a few of his components to the end. They lit the way in soft colors, filtering faintly through the glass vials. Rudiger jumped off his shoulder and skittered into the dark, fallen viridian leaves crinkling as his tail brushed the ground.

All the while, Varian tried to think of a good conversation topic – if not to learn more about his guide, than at least to occupy their time. After wracking his brain, he finally came up with one of the most cliched questions he could think of.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked.

Shay paused in her steps, her cloak wrapped tightly around her as a chill breeze swept through the trees. "What?"

Varian wiped a few sweaty strands of dark hair out of his eyes. "You know, your favorite color? Red, blue, green…pink?"

Shay's orange eye blinked once. "I…I suppose I've never really thought about it," she admitted in her quiet voice. "I guess…blue. Like the myrtle flowers that grow in the valley."

Periwinkle. Varian ran the plant through his memory. "It's a good chemical constituent," he noted approvingly. "I used to synthesize a derivative to help my dad's blood pressure go down."

"That's right," Shay said, sounding mildly surprised. "I make a tonic for headaches with it. It's wonderful in tea."

Finally, she was talking to him. Encouraged, he walked further forward, holding his staff out to light their steps. "So," he continued. "Why exactly is your mom called the Crimson Caster?"

Shay started walking up an incline, hiking her skirt to keep from tripping. "I don't know the real reason, to be honest. She's been called that since before I was born. She has red hair, though, and her magic is red, so that's probably why." She turned to look at him. There was a hint of emotion in her face; she looked almost hopeful. "You can ask her when we find her. She loves when you ask questions."

"Good," Varian climbed after her. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and Rudiger reappeared out of the bushes. The racoon's cheeks were stuffed with berries. "Although, I really only have one." He extended his arm, and Rudiger scampered back up onto his shoulder. He could smell the wild fruit on the creature's breath. "My mother had red hair, too. At least, that's what my dad used to tell me." He could see the darkness start to ebb as they neared the end of the climb. "How much farther is this door?"

"Not far, now." Shay reached the top of the hill, and an open field spilled out before them. Varian felt his shoulders relax; he hadn't realized how anxious the forest had made him. Out in the open, he felt like he could finally take a breath of fresh air. The sky yawned above them, the dark expanse riddled with stars and crowned by a waxing moon. Varian stared up at the milky view and felt a small smile spread across his face. It was almost the harvest moon, a time Varian always enjoyed – it gave him the chance to spend more time with his father, tallying crops and discussing different ways to improve next year's profits. His smile faded when he realized that wouldn't be happening this year, and he sighed through his nose. Then he noticed that Shay was waiting for him at the bottom of the hill, and he jogged down to catch up, trying to shake the melancholy from his mind.

"Are you alright?" he heard Shay ask. It was the first question she'd asked him since they'd started.

Varian considered the words. He remembered the last time someone had asked him a question like that, in a palace hall with a black weight on his shoulders. Back then, he'd answered honestly and received a hollow, unfulfilled promise for his trouble. He sought no such reassurance from this girl, or anyone for that matter. "Who, me?" he said nonchalantly, as if she could have been asking anyone else. He squared his shoulders and forced a small, tight smile. "Couldn't be better. Let's go." He followed her through the brush, tall grass tickling his elbows and concealing rocks and divots. He nearly fell flat on his face at one point and actually reached for Shay's shoulder to steady himself. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized quickly when she shot him a look of alarm, quickly snatching his hand away. "This field has it out for me." Like everything and everyone else, it seemed. He looked to see what had caused him to almost face-plant and flinched, a lowery expression flashing across his features.

It was one of the black rocks.

Shay stopped and stared at it. "What is that?" She crouched next to it, tracing its form with her orange eye.

Varian gave her a surprised glance. "You mean you haven't seen these?"

Shay shook her head. "I don't leave the house very often." Varian could just make out her face as it turned pink. "As I'm sure you've been able to tell. I don't want to miss my mother, in case she comes back. People don't say much in Ghislain, the town that's south of the forest. I've never seen, or heard of, anything like this before." She extended a finger to brush the glassy rock; it started to thrum as she approached it.

"Don't!" Varian swept down and snatched her hand before she could touch it, and she gasped in surprise. "These rocks have abnormal properties," he hissed. "They're dangerous."

The girl gently tugged her fingers out of his grip. "How do you know that?" she asked haltingly.

"I…" Varian stood and pursed his lips. "I know that because…I've studied these rocks extensively. I've seen what they can do."

"And what can they do?"

"Bad things. They're unpredictable, and they can't be destroyed. It's better if you stay away from them." He gripped his staff tightly. "It's better if everyone does," he grumbled bitterly.

He waited for Shay to react, anticipating that she would disregard his warning. But instead, she stood and started wringing the fabric of her plaid apron. "But what are they?" she breathed. "Where do they come from?"

"I don't know," Varian answered. "If I knew, I would've gotten rid of them before now. Believe me, I've tried. Nothing works." If I knew what did, he thought to himself, then I wouldn't be here.

Shay looked worried. "I haven't seen any in the forest. I hope there won't be any in the crypt," she said, sounding concerned.

Varian gave a dry, heartless chuckle. "You and me both," he mused. "Let's keep going."

"Right. We're almost there," She led him to a foothill close by. A small dip in the ground sloped downward, and Shay indicated a narrow flight of stone stairs. Varian could barely see them; they were nearly hidden by dense, grassy overgrowth. Shay pointed, indicating a rocky crag behind an old willow tree, its long leaves shifting in the night air. Carved into the crag, peeking out through a thick blanket of vines, was a dark stone door. "There it is," she said. "According to legend, this is the Haderon Crypt. I've only been here once with my mother, a long time ago. She said the door couldn't be opened." Varian heard her swallow, and he watched her teeth begin to chew her lip. "She told me to stay away from it," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, she didn't tell me." Varian took the lead and made his way down the narrow steps, sliding his staff through the strap of the quiver behind his back as he approached the door. He felt Shay follow him, and they both stopped once they were a few feet away from the stone. Varian looked the sealed passage up and down, studying the rock. "No handles," he observed out loud. "Whoever sealed this place did it from the inside." That was a grim thought, unless there was some secret egress that only the sealer knew about. If that was the case, there would be no way of finding it, so the sealed door was still their best bet for getting inside. He reached out a hand and rubbed his fingers together before planting his palm on the stone face.

A flash of light caught his eye, and he jerked his head upward to see a mark on the door. He hadn't noticed it before, but the fact that it started glowing wasn't what made him freeze. It was the shape of the mark, a very familiar symbol carved into the stone, that made his breath catch in his throat. It was the same emblem that was carved into his father's trunk, the same symbol that was inked on the map that had led him here.

"It's the symbol from my mother's last journal entry!" Shay stared at the glowing mark, then looked at Varian. Her eye widened, and Varian could have sworn he saw a flash of red behind her hair.

"What?" Varian asked.

"Your hair," she said. "It's…"

Varian kept his hand on the door, using his free hand to grab a lock of his hair. He pulled it down into view, and his eyes popped. "That's impossible," he mouthed, staring at the strands as they started to glow an ethereal blue. "What the heck?!" He ripped his goggles off and yanked fistfuls down, gaping at the reaction. His scalp tingled, and his breath started picking up. He didn't even notice the doors crack open, the entrance slowly yawning wide. As it opened, the glow started to fade. "What was that?" He'd seen strange things happen before, reactions that he couldn't quite understand…but to him?

"You broke the seal on the door," Shay marveled. She reached to touch the open stone, smoothing her palm across the surface. "The magic is gone. But how?" She looked at Varian and realized he was still anxiously grabbing at his hair, using the reflection of his goggle lenses to scrutinize his appearance. The blue streak in his hair was still glowing. "You're not hurt, are you?"

But Varian didn't hear her; he was too busy panicking in his head. "What…" He licked his lips. "What just happened?"

"I don't know," Shay answered honestly. "I've only ever seen a reaction like that with…" She ducked her head, then took a deep breath. "You're sure that's never happened before?"

Varian exhaled shakily, then raked his hair back into place, snapping his goggles back around his head. "I'm pretty sure I would remember something like that," he exclaimed, trying not to sound too hysterical.

"You'd be surprised what you can forget," Shay mumbled, just loud enough for Varian to hear.

"I'm sorry," Varian said with a glare, "but on the planet where I'm from, bioluminescent follicle reactions are not common occurrences when you touch a door!"

Shay looked nearly as distressed now as he was. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Varian's expression softened. "I'm fine," He grumbled.

"Do you feel drained or fatigued?"

"No."

Shay sighed. "Well, you're not on fire. You're still human. You're not in pain, and you still remember who you are." She glanced at the open door. "You broke the seal," she repeated dazedly. "Just by touching it."

Varian knew she wasn't telling him everything. But then, he supposed he was no less guilty of that. Despite his confusion and complete lack of understanding, he decided to set the issue aside, for now at least. "If we're assuming that your mother actually made it into this place," he said, still studying the blue streak in his hair; the light emanating from it had finally dimmed, "how did she manage to get in if it was still sealed?"

"I'm not sure," Shay admitted; she gazed into the dark entrance and shivered. "It's something I'll have to ask her. When we find her, that is."

Varian could hear the unspoken question hanging in the air like a damp mildew: what if her mother wasn't actually here? It wasn't a question he wanted to ask any more than Shay seemed to; it wasn't a question he wanted to answer. He brought his staff forward again, the colors swallowed by the darkness ahead. "Are you ready?" he asked. Rudiger shifted uncomfortably on his shoulder.

Shay looked hesitant; it was clear this was the last thing she was expecting to do when she'd woken up that morning. He could tell she was scared, but she slowly nodded, her hands curling into fists.

With his scalp still tingling, Varian gritted his teeth and steeled his nerves before setting foot into the crypt, bidding the outside world behind him a reluctant farewell. Providence willing, he would reemerge with the answers he needed.

If he didn't end up dead by the end of the night.