King Frederic entered his bedchamber quietly, closing the door slowly behind him. His face was a pale, gaunt mask, his brown eyes glazed over with fatigue, and his arms hung limply at his sides as he leaned for a moment against the wall.

"Fred?" Arianna's voice echoed around the suite corner. She emerged with a brush in her hair, running the boar bristles through her chestnut locks. Frederic still couldn't believe how beautiful she was; in twenty years, she hadn't aged a day. She must have noticed how he looked, because the brush paused in her hand, and her brow furrowed with concern. "Is everything alright?"

Frederic didn't answer; he didn't have to.

Arianna crossed to a nearby table and set her brush down. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

The king managed a small chuckle, and he wiped a tired hand down his face. "Maybe I have."

Arianna took his hand in hers and led him to a chair. "Tell me what happened," she said as she started unlacing his boots for him.

He sighed, long and slow. "It's about our search…for the boy. I was just given a report from our scouts."

Arianna shot him an alarmed look. "Have they found him? Is he alright?"

Frederic's eyebrows rose almost to where his crown usually sat.

"Well, I…I-I don't know why I ask, it's just…" She tugged one of his boots off and set it aside with a thump on the marble floor. "That boy is many things. Just because he nearly killed me out of some manic episode doesn't mean I want him dead, that's all. You do have the bounty listed as 'alive', don't you?"

"Yes, dear," Frederic answered, a note of amusement in his weary voice. Another thing about his wife to amaze him – there seemed to be no depth to her kindness. "We will bring him in alive. And no, we haven't found him yet."

His wife nodded, her beautiful mouth pursed in a cute frown. "Do we know what he's up to, then?" She removed his other boot and held it demonstratively. "I'm waiting for the other one to drop."

Arianna's joke seemed to have little effect; the crinkle in Frederic's eyes winked once. "Unfortunately, we do." He sat forward. "That's where the ghost comes in. You remember what happened when…the first year, when Rapunzel was gone."

Arianna sobered, and her gaze fell into her lap like a stone. "Yes," she whispered. "I do."

"One of the hunters survived. Caius, Cain's brother."

"He's here?"

Frederic nodded. "And he's convinced Quirin's boy is working with a witch."

The skin in Arianna's hands became translucent. "You don't think he means…It can't be her. I thought she was dead."

"We all thought she was dead," Frederic agreed. "But then, we also thought she was the one that had taken our daughter. I was wrong, then." He sat back, and the clouds in his eyes dissipated, burned away by determination. "That's why I can't afford to be wrong this time. We can't afford to make the same mistakes." He gazed down at his shaking fingers. "I have too much blood on my hands, already. If I stain them any more, I'm afraid it can never be washed away."

"Fred." Arianna reached for him, her grasp tight in his. "I've told you before. You can't blame yourself for what happened. There was miscommunication, abuse of authority in the ranks, too much liberty taken by mavericks and glory hounds."

Frederic nodded again, even though he wasn't sure it was true. "I can't change the past. But I can make sure to protect the future. There will not be another hunt."

The underground tunnel Varian and Martin followed eventually opened up once more to reveal a spiraling staircase, one that seemed to lead overhead for miles. Varian lost track of how many times they had to stop to catch their breaths as they'd climbed. To his credit, Martin didn't complain, though Varian figured it was because the guard was too exhausted to whine. Instead, the guard seemed content to tally each blue torch they passed under his breath, occupying his mind with numbers instead troubles. Varian himself was worn to the bone, but he knew he couldn't quit. Every time they took a break, he was always the first back up on his feet, dragging Martin's arm over his shoulders once more. The thought of seeing daylight fueled him, encouraging each step he took up the limestone steps.

After what seemed like a hundred-story climb, the stairway eventually opened onto a railed landing. A double-door blocked the way, similar to the one Varian had opened at the entrance to the chamber. He did the same as before, placing his hand to the cold stone. A bright flash of magic, and the door opened to reveal another tunnel.

Martin couldn't hold back a moan at the sight of it. "Another one?"

"Yeah," Varian felt irritated himself. "But it's got to be the last one. Come on, we're almost…"

He stopped when he saw something up ahead. The torches ahead were dim enough that he couldn't tell what it was at first, and a burst of fear set him on edge. If it was another threat, he wasn't sure how they were going to get past it; Varian himself might be able to sneak around whatever it was, but there would be no hope for Martin. After saving his life, Varian couldn't just abandon the guard now. As if on cue, he felt Martin cringe backward, his hand threatening to cripple Varian's scarred shoulder.

"Wha-what is that?" he stammered. "Tell me that's not something bad."

Varian peered through the dark gloom, equipped with a vial of acid in his numb hand. Then he gasped with surprise, and his grip slackened. Joy blossomed in his breast, spreading warmth and energy through his entire being.

It was a glowing, red thread of light.

As it drew closer, Varian reached his hand out to it, beckoning as if to a frightened animal. "Shay." The thread slowly wound itself around his palm, and he grasped it tightly in his trembling fingers. Concentrating, he tugged once, and blue sparks flooded into a pulse of violet light, shooting down the string in a bright bead. It fled into the dark, disappearing.

"What was that?" Martin hissed. "What is that, what are you doing?"

"Shut up," Varian answered. "Just wait."

They waited. After two minutes, Varian started to worry. After five, Martin sat down on the ground. Varian still stood, praying between his teeth.

Then he felt a tug, a nudge that drew the string taut, forcing his arm forward.

Varian laughed out loud. "Martin, get up, on your feet, come on!" He started to run ahead, his newfound energy propelling him forward at a sprint.

Martin managed to catch up, a look of hope on his pallid face as his strength began to return. "So it's…it's good?" he panted, his pace lopsided with his bare foot.

"It's the best thing ever!" Varian crowed. His fears seemed to melt away, leaving him light and full of hope. "I'll explain when we get there!"

They forged ahead, eagerness sapping the time away into a vortex of excitement and anticipation. Martin gasped out loud as the blue torches eventually gave way to rusty sconces and abandoned mine carts. "Mine carts? We – this must be the –"

"The abandoned quarry at Mount Saison," Varian exclaimed. He laughed again. "We made it!" The thread followed the tracks, still tight around Varian's skin.

"That's great," Martin wheezed, his legs wobbly. Varian reached him before he fell over. "Sorry," the guard apologized. "Just give me a minute."

Varian sighed. "Remind me why I saved you again?"

"I don't know," Martin grumbled as he was helped forward. Cold seat lined his brow, and his entire body shook with fatigue. "But I'm glad you did."

Varian sniffed dismissively. "Just forget about it. I know it won't make a difference."

"For what?"

"You know what," Varian muttered. "I don't suppose that cell has been repaired yet, has it? It had a great view of the west courtyard. Those groundskeepers do great work, don't you think?"

Martin didn't say a word.

After fifteen minutes of winding over emptied marble beds and dusty pickaxes, early morning daylight bloomed before them at last. The sound of rain hushed through the air; the heady smell of wet earth and rotting leaves was almost intoxicating. The glowing thread trailed down into the mouth of the quarry, and Varian saw the simmering smoke of a campfire drifting out behind a pile of grey rubble. With Martin in tow, he followed the thread to it, calling Shay's name.

She darted out from behind the rocks, her mismatched eyes wide and unblinking. Her black hair was damp and disheveled, and her clothes were stained dark with mud. Her cloak was missing, and her face was streaked with tears. Her cheeks flushed with relief when Varian came into view, and she started to cry again as the dismissed the glowing thread from her raw fingertips.

Varian couldn't stop smiling. "Hey," he greeted, his voice thick and hoarse with emotion.

Shay didn't say anything; she was too busy staring at Martin, her gaze burning with alarm.

"Is this the friend you were talking about?" Martin slurred.

"Shay, come help me with him," Varian grunted as Martin started to collapse. Shay hesitated before cautiously coming forward, grabbing Martin's other arm. Together, the two dragged the unconscious guard over to the camp, setting him gently down by the flickering embers.

"Who is he?" Shay asked in a trembling voice. "Where did he come from?"

"It's okay," Varian reassured her. "He's just…it's complicated." He helped her drape a blanket over the guard, the wool tucked securely around his limp form. Once they were finished, he reached out and pulled her into a shaky hug. "It's okay," he repeated. "I'm here, now. Everything's alright."

Shay clung to him, her entire body tense. Her breath in his shoulder was warm, but shaky.

Varian released her, holding her at arm's length. "You didn't have any trouble getting here, did you?" he asked has he unbuckled Spellbane from his back. Words began to pour out of him, tumbling so quickly into the air, he hardly took a moment to pause. "I mean, logically, I assume you didn't, because you're here, but I mean, nobody followed you or anything, right? Oh, there's so much I have to tell you – there was this huge chamber down there, like the one we saw at Haderon's tomb, but this one I was able to figure out! Actually, Martin was surprisingly helpful about it, but then more skeletons appeared, like before, and they almost killed us, I think it was a foxhole moment for both of us, but…" He paused; Shay looked pallid, almost like she was going to be sick. "What is it?"

"Varian," Shay whispered. She gulped, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. "We have to get back to my house."

"What?" Varian blinked until his vision was clear. "What are you talking about?"

Shay took him by the hand and led him to the other side of the camp. Killy was there, huddled close to Shay's folded cloak on the ground. Shay knelt, tugging Varian down so he could see. He watched her tuck the fabric aside to reveal a bundle of damp, grey fur, curled into a shivering, shuddering ball, ringed tail tucked between a pair of spasming legs.

Icy dread plummeted into the pit of Varian's stomach. "Rudiger." He reached out to him, searching for the racoon's face. The creature's eyes had rolled back into his head, and a pale green foam coated the corners of his mouth. "What is this?" he asked numbly.

"He's in withdrawal," Shay answered, her tone heavy and filled with remorse. "I was afraid something like this would happen to him, but I didn't think he had taken enough of that serum to –"

Varian snapped his head up, fixing her with a sudden glare. "You knew this would happen?" he hissed.

"I…" Shay's bottom lip started to tremble. "I was going to tell you, but I wasn't…he hadn't shown any symptoms before! And then we were attacked at the river, and then sneaking into the capitol, I…I'm so sorry."

Guilt immediately flooded Varian's chest; he sighed and pounded his forehead twice with his fist. "No," he apologized, sitting back on his heels. "No, this…this is my fault."

Shay reached for him, her fingers wringing his sleeve into agitated wrinkles. "I've tried to do everything I can for him, but all I can do is stall it. He doesn't have much time. We need to take him back to my mother's cabin."

Pain sank into Varian's heart, and he ached with his own helplessness. "We can't."

Shay's eyes swiveled to where Martin lay. "Because of him?" she said in a surprisingly low voice.

Varian felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "No," he answered hesitantly. "Yes? I was thinking more like it's too far away for us to make it in time. How long has Rudiger been like this?"

"Six hours. If he can keep water down, it'll buy us three days at most."

Varian echoed the sigh. "We can take shifts. We'll need a mount to make it in time. There's a village two hours west. I think I have enough." He flattened out on the quarry floor, too tired to care about how hard the ground was. "I'm fine," he waved a weak hand when Shay started to hover. "I just need five minutes. Just…just five."

Shay returned to Rudiger, tugging the swaddled animal into her lap. She used a corner of fabric to wipe his mouth clean and filled a dropper with water for him to drink. "What's his name?" she asked in that same low voice as she stared through the flames at Martin's scrunched face.

"Martin," Varian mumbled, half-asleep. His stomach growled, but he was too tired to care. He realized he was also sore in a number of places, and a splitting headache had blossomed between his eyes. Using his power before must have drained him more than he'd realized. "He followed me into the tunnel, the one Xavier sent me to."

"He tried to capture you." Shay's voice was barely a whisper through gritted teeth. "He'll try again."

"No," Varian waved his hand again. "Well, not right away, anyway."

Shay exhaled sharply through her nose.

"Well, look at him," Varian rolled his head over to look at the sleeping guard. "He's harmless. He used to guard my cell. He was the only one who talked to me. We kind of just went through a life-or-death experience together. Also, no matter what he says, I saved his life."

Shay said nothing. She refused to acknowledge Martin's presence, focusing instead on the swaddled Rudiger in her lap as she carefully helped him drink from the dropper in her hand. "What happened?"

"There was a tunnel that led to –"

"No," Shay said. "What happened in the chamber? When you were gone for four hours?"

Varian was suddenly wide awake. He sat up, and his headache immediately intensified. As he searched for painkiller in his bag, he told her about the Lunar Celestial. "She said she chose me to stop this so-called demon before it destroys everything. That's why I have to get to the Moonstone. Have you ever heard of it?"

"No," Shay answered. "I've never heard of any of it." She kept Rudiger in the crook of one arm and reached for the book Xavier had given her. "But I wonder if the royal family has. I don't have the agent you used before, but I can smell lemon on some of the pages."

Varian fished for the solution and passed her the vial. "What does it say?" he asked after a moment.

Shay studied the revealed words, chewing her lower lip. Her eyes suddenly widened, and the vial slipped from her fingers, tapping down into the open spine. "I…" She took a deep breath, then seemed to struggle letting it out. "I-I don't understand."

"What is it?" Varian urged.

"The Sundrop. The flower on the cliffs, the one the soldiers found for the queen…my mother's the one who led them to it. She's the reason why the princess is still alive."

Lyra knew? Of course, she did. Despite his fatigue, Varian immediately connected the dots. "That's why they suspected a witch of stealing her away. She was the only one they knew of who would have a reason for it. She knew the Sundrop's power." He slowly laid back down, staring up at the dark quarry ceiling. "That's why the king called for the witch hunters. That's why magic is so hard to find in Corona." Once again, it was all too easy to place the blame at the princess' feet. But then, if the Crimson Caster knew about the Sundrop, did that mean she knew about the Moonstone as well? She definitely knew about the Celestials, which was more than Varian could have said a week ago. "That's why Xavier gave you that book!" He suddenly gasped. "Somewhere in it is the information we need to find that Moonstone and fix all of this!"

"Yes," Shay agreed. "I-I'll keep looking."

Varian heard the hesitation in her voice. "Shay," he told her. "I know you're scared about what you'll find in there, but you're not a child anymore. All the secrets your mother kept from you are what's keeping you from setting her free. The more we can learn, the closer we come to rescuing both our parents."

"I know that," Shay stammered. "But I can't help but wonder if there are some things we shouldn't know. Private things, things not meant for us. You don't understand how upset she got when I asked her about the hunt." She closed the book and set the vial aside. "I already know more than she would ever want me to. I don't want to disobey her any more than I already have."

Varian opened his mouth, shut it, then rolled over. "You know something?" he muttered. "My dad kept secrets from me, too. And after everything that's happened, I've never been able to shake the feeling that if he hadn't, things would be a lot different than they are, right now. I've already fought a few skeletons today. If whatever's in that book can help us put everything right again, I'm not afraid to dig up a few more."

Shay said nothing.

"In a couple hours, wake me up," Varian said. "And don't worry about Martin. I'm not going anywhere…yet."