The morning found Varian bright and alert, the first of the three to wake. He brushed himself up and immediately moved to the desk in the corner. He remembered Calliope had mentioned something about the possibility of the stationary being enchanted, but Varian took that risk. He sat down, retrieving parchment and ink, and unfurled the delicate scroll before him. The sun slowly began to spill out into the sky, swathes of pink and orange inviting songbirds to start their day. Varian ignored their trilling as he worked, quill scratching periodically against the fine tooth.

After two hours, he felt the familiar, satisfying click of serotonin in his brain as he tested his solution and watched it work splendidly. With the text now clear before him, he began to translate, his writing almost illegible in his haste to complete it.

Eventually, he felt a presence at his shoulder, something he was unused to in his line of work. "How long have you been up?" Martin grumbled, rubbing tiredly at the weak beads of stubble on his face.

"Not long," Varian answered absentmindedly, begging silently not to be distracted.

"How's your shoulder?"

Once Martin brought it up, Varian took mental note. He sighed, reluctantly setting his pen down. "Same. Nothing a painkiller couldn't fix, but I left all of my supplies at the cabin."

Martin leaned against the desk, scratching at the back of his bedhead. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

"It's fine."

"Is it?" Martin speculated. "I know we were lucky to bring what little we have, but I'm still a little shaken by the fact that we're hundreds of miles away from home."

Varian took a deep breath. He let it out shakily, then rolled up the scroll. "It doesn't matter how far I have to go, or what I have to learn. Setbacks happen. If it helps me save my father, I'll find a way around them."

Martin squinted. "How old are you, again?"

Varian blew out his cheeks. "The harvest moon was almost two weeks ago…I'll be sixteen next spring."

"You know what I was dealing with when I was your age? Learning how to tolerate the slop they feed you in the royal barracks, not magic and the undead. And giant racoons." Martin lifted a hand and hesitated before clapping it on Varian's (good) shoulder, forcing his attention. "I know I don't look it, but I've been trying to process my role in all of this. At first, I thought my job was to bring you back to the judgment hall. That hasn't changed, mind you. But I've been thinking, and…ugh, this going to sound really stupid."

Varian smirked. "It already does."

"Shut up." Martin folded his arms. "I thought I was bringing you back to be convicted. But I really…would prefer more of an 'acquittal' approach. I don't know how that would work out, since you did commit high treason and all."

"Thanks for reminding me."

"But I need you to understand, I will do everything I can to make sure you get back there in one piece." He gestured to Varian's pile of notes and scribbles. "I don't understand any of this. But protecting lives? That I can do. Besides…" Martin's face flushed, and he stared intensely at the other side of the room. "You might be the, uh, only friend I really have. Kind of."

Varian stared, wide-eyed. "Wow, Martin, are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Don't mock me, kid," Martin huffed. "I said what I said, and I meant it. Don't get worked up. Now look, does any of that gobbledy-gook say anything about where to find this magic chamber you mentioned?"

"No," Varian stood, scooping his notes into a pile. "This is something else entirely, something I still don't completely understand. From what I can gather, these are instructions on how to build a…well, I would call it an energy extractor." He frowned. "What it would be used for or why Demanitus created it, I don't know." He sighed. "As for the chamber, I don't know where it is, but I do know what we'll find there. Sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?"

"Luna told me."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "The Celestial-thing that talks to you in your head?"

Varian opened his mouth to argue, then gave up. "Yeah, that's the one."

There was a rustle as Shay approached sleepily from her side of the suite, rubbing tiredly at the corner of her red eye. Killy had joined her sometime in the night; the hare watched her leave him with a twitching nose. She straightened one of her sleeves before stretching her arms towards the ceiling, branching up on her tiptoes. "What did she tell you?" she mumbled.

Varian looked at her, pursing his lips. "When we reach the Dark Kingdom, we'll have to deal with King Edmund. Luna says he's still there, guarding the Moonstone." He produced the medallion from his pocket and placed it on the desk's surface. "Inside the chamber is some kind of weapon, probably ceremonial, important to Lunaris' history. The Celestial said that if we present it to the king, he'll let us pass."

Martin made a grunt. "Do we really need another weapon to lug around? The giant spell-killing sword is enough, don't you think?"

"We need it," Varian stated firmly. "I don't plan on getting killed by a half-crazed king."

"Neither do I," Shay agreed. "But how are we supposed to find the chamber?"

"What about the book that came with the medallion?" Varian asked.

Shay retrieved it, flipping through the pages. "This is…" Her eyes widened, instantly alert. "I know this writing. This is my mother's!" She pressed on with more energy, searching the words. "It seems to be a collection of chants. Songs, incantations, runes…" She checked it twice from front to back before looking up and helplessly shaking her head. "I don't understand. There's no context given for any of it. At a glance, I have no idea what any of these do. Why would this be kept with the medallion if it doesn't explain how or where to use it?"

Varian rubbed at his forehead, trying to process it all. "I don't know," he admitted. "All I know is that you're the only one who can figure it out."

Shay held the book towards him. "But you can help me, you understand secret meanings better than I can."

"That's not what I'm saying," Varian replied. "I'm saying you're the only one with the power to find it."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on," Varian urged. "You have to have figured it out by now. You said so yourself last night."

She looked confused at first, but Varian also noticed her stiffen defensively. "I said that my magic comes from my mother, but –"

"Not just your magic, Shay. Your mother called on the powers of Pleiades. They gave it to her, and then she had you."

Shay coughed. "You think I'm a scion of the Seven Sisters? The paragon that blood mages abused, and you're suggesting I embody it?"

Martin blinked. "I'm sorry, 'blood mages?'"

Varian aimed a meaningful glare at the guard. "Don't you have a date to get ready for?" he suggested between clenched teeth.

"Oh no." Martin's face paled. "I do. Oh, crap." He flailed about, searching for his boots. He put them on incorrectly at first, making him more agitated as he crammed them onto the right feet. Then he was out the door to the bathing room, panicking under his breath about Tunisian broth.

Once he was gone, Varian and Shay returned their attention to each other. "You must be joking," Shay said in a low, quiet voice.

"You see my face?" Varian gestured to his expression. "This is not my joking face. Think about it. When you're seriously hurt, you lose control."

"So now I'm possessed?!" she blurted.

Varian sucked in a patient breath. "Not possessed, just inexperienced. In the underground chamber at Mount Saison, there was a relief depicting the Pleiades constellation, except one of the stars was missing. I didn't understand it at the time, but now I know. It's a visual representation of the Seven Sisters imparting their power to a mortal being. Now, I'm not suggesting your mother was the first, but she clearly knew it could be done because someone had been gifted this power before. I think that when she made it to this land, she was lost and alone, and she couldn't find her way. But that's what the Seven Sisters are all about, aren't they? They find the way. Luna keeps telling me you're the one who can lead us to the Dark Kingdom. Finding this chamber is just a test run."

Shay looked apoplectic. "A test –" Flames were dancing along her shoulders, and her hair at nape of her neck was aglow. "How could you even –"

"Come on, Shay!" Varian exclaimed. "You knew this all along, you just didn't want to admit it!"

"Of course not!" she almost shrieked. "To do so would mean I'm accepting the fact that everything I am is just…it's…"

"It's what?" Varian pressed. "Weren't you telling me that it doesn't change anything?"

"This is not the same, and you know it!" Shay was pleading now, her hands clenching fistfuls of her apron. "I'm not like you, I can't be like you! Don't you understand? You're the only one who can do this! If I really am a vessel for such a being –"

"You're a vessel to a power, not a person," Varian countered. "A power that's been trying to help you your whole life, a power that saved you when you were a child!"

Shay released one hand from her apron and brought it to her forehead. "If what you say is true, then it means I could have stopped Caius. I could have protected you in Haderon's tomb. I could have brought us safely here without scattering us abroad, I would have found a way to free my mother on my own by now!" She dropped her shaking arms to her sides, staring down at the rug beneath her feet. "Caius said I was weak, and he was right."

Varian stood from his seat, nearly knocking the chair over. "I never want to hear you say that again," he told her, his tone biting and sharp as a razor. It made Shay's breath stop, freezing her in place. "You believe what your father's killer says over me, your best friend? I just found out that I'm the son of a conscript who swore servitude to a rock. Two weeks ago, that would have made me feel like I had no control over my life, no claim to my own destiny. But now I know that there's more to me than that, and I know that because of you." He paused. "And Luna, I guess, but that not the point!" He clapped his hands to his sides, his jaw tight with emotion. "The point is…I thought I had helped you realize the same. That you're special, that you're important. But I guess I'm…not good enough to make you understand."

Shay was paralyzed, her sight blank as a sheet.

"You said you would help me. But I don't think I've ever asked." Varian approached her slowly, as if afraid that he might scare her off. When she didn't move, he took her by the arms and gave her a gentle squeeze. "I can't do this without you, Shay. Will you help me? Help me save my father?"

The girl didn't move. She wore her wistful, longing look, a begging, unspoken plea. Varian wanted to draw her in, to hold her, to reassure her with more than words. But his heart clenched as she slowly shook her head. "I…I can't." She tore herself away and fled, disappearing into the hall. Killy followed, darting after her in a brown flash.

Varian stood there, suddenly cold. The birds still sang outside, completely oblivious to what had just happened. Hollow with frustration, he forced his fists to unclench.

He should have known it would take more than a passionate pep-talk for Shay to break free of her own self-doubt. It had always been there, but he hadn't fully realized how deeply ingrained it was. He cast a forlorn gaze about the empty suite, his hand reaching absentmindedly to massage his scarred shoulder. His feet brought him to Shay's bed, and he stared down at where she'd slept, chewing his bottom lip.

Then his eyes fell upon something near her pillow; the Crimson Caster's journal.

Varian looked at it, long and hard. He glared up at the doors; they were still open.

He scrambled over to Martin's side of the room – a few seconds of searching revealed the key, and he rushed to shut the room closed, turning until the lock clicked. Then he returned and reached out to take the book. He hesitated at first, worried that he might set off some kind of spell. But for some reason, he almost felt that the journal was left here on purpose, as if it wanted him to read it. He grasped it gingerly in his clammy hand. When nothing happened, he picked it up and crossed back over to the desk, seating himself as he placed the journal before him.

Where to even begin? Varian shoved his guilt aside and set the journal on its spine. The pages were creased the most about a third of the way through, where an entry had been dog-eared by Shay's hand. Varian opened to it, wincing as the binding loudly creaked. With his heart in his throat, he began to read. On the left-hand page, a single shaky sentence was written, the Celtic text framed by dotted watermarks:

My husband is dead.

The next page had more; the different-colored ink told Varian it was written at a later date:

I'm surprised at how innovative the Sapporian sorcerers were. Their talent with memory manipulation is unparalleled. The boy won't remember any of it, now. It's for the best; I can't imagine the terror he must have felt. Quirin will suspect something, I'm sure. I would have told him, but he would never have agreed to using magic on his son, especially a Sapporian spell. At least my little hawk will sleep easier, knowing she won't be leaving anything behind. I so dearly wish it hadn't come to this. And it's all his fault. Someday, I will bring the reckoning to his door. Until then, I must wait. And work. I have never been forsaken. I must remember that. I will not be denied.

Varian's fingers played with the dog ear on the page. Had Shay been meaning to share this with him? After his outburst at dinner the other night, he must have caused her to second-guess herself. She must have reread the same entry, trying to evaluate whether she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion. Now that Varian had read it for himself, he finally understood. At least my little hawk will sleep easier. The "selfishness" of her mother's decision…she believed it was her own. "Oh, Shay," he whispered mournfully, sitting back in his seat. She thought it was her fault that he didn't remember her. All this time, no wonder she had avoided telling him. She didn't want him to hate her. After all these years of looking after herself, and then suddenly having someone expect so much from her…now he felt like the selfish one.

But something else stood out to him, something Shay had missed before. He read over it again, making sure the words were clear: I can't imagine the terror he must have felt. Terror. What terror? That had to be the real reason; Varian had experienced something terrible, something so traumatizing that the witch made him forget. But what? And why couldn't he remember now?

Varian closed his eyes tightly, trying to recall what he could from his youth. Ghostly flashes echoed in his mind as he strained, trying to focus on what he could remember. Images gradually appeared, like reflections rippling in a pool. Varian realized he recognized them from his dreams, from the brief vision he'd seen in Haderon's tomb. He heard a little girl's laugh again, and this time, he knew who it was. He could almost taste it, the smell of grass in the air, the tree…the tree down by the river that ran through Old Corona. Brown and green frogs used to leap all over the roots. Varian loved to catch them and bring them home…But he couldn't see her. He couldn't see anyone. All he could see was the blinding light of the sun reflecting off the water's surface…

"Ugh, come on," he pounded at his temples, trying to force the memories to return. She was there, he knew it, he knew it was her! But the more he tried to see it, the blurrier it became. Eventually he gave up, throwing his hands down on the desk surface. It was no use; even she was trapped in a necromancer's crypt, the Crimson Caster's magic was still too strong.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't fair to him. None of it was.

The sound of a voice outside snapped Varian out of his bitter reverie, and he lurched out of his seat to return the journal. Someone was on the other side, jiggling one of the door handles. Varian ignored it as he tucked the book next to Shay's pillow, adjusting the angle. He then yanked his shirt off, wincing at the painful protest his shoulder made, before dashing over to unlock the doors. He opened one just a creak, peering around the corner as he donned a perturbed expression.

"I'm trying to get decent," he grumbled.

Martin's brown eye peered back at him. "It's just me, kid. Why, are you naked?"

Varian felt a twinge of relief. "No."

"Good, because I don't need to see that. You mind letting me in?"

Varian stepped aside, grateful for the distraction from his turbulent thoughts. "How was your romantic brunch?" he forced himself to ask as he tugged his shirt back on.

"Surprisingly quick, and incredibly one-sided," Martin replied, flopping back on his bed. "Time I could have spent on my normal routine was sacrificed to the sound of our gracious host prattling on about herself for the past hour."

Varian blinked. "It's been an hour?"

"Yeah." Martin stared at him. "Why? What have you been up to?"

"Nothing," Varian said automatically, trying his best to sound nonchalant. "Just reading some more."

Martin looked around. "I assume the girl isn't here, then?"

"Have you seen her?"

"Nope," Martin answered matter-of-factly. "I've been too busy getting educated on the plights of a street magician to notice much of anything else outside this room." He narrowed his eyes. "You upset her again, didn't you? You're going to make it a habit if you're not careful. What did you do this time?"

Varian didn't answer. He still felt numb and guilt-ridden. "Let's go find the Keeper," he mumbled. "I have one more favor to ask him."

It was simple enough for the Keeper to procure extra satchels of supplies for his guests; he explained briefly to Varian that, while he was no alchemist, there were a few ingredients he had lying about that he could spare. Varian accepted them gratefully, a small sense of relief pushing his worries away for an instant. They were also given something else Varian hadn't even realized they needed - a saddle for Rudiger, who sniffed suspiciously as Martin helped Varian haul the large harness outside. It was normally meant for a rhino, though while Martin was willing to question why such an item was in the Keeper's possession, Varian was unnaturally quiet about it. His racoon managed to restrain himself long enough to be fitted, and he shifted his limber muscles about as he tested the feel of it. The creature might not enjoy it very much, but they could carry more items with them this way.

Martin found Calliope tending to Beth, stroking the mare's soft nose with a small hand. "She's all ready for you, handsome," she said with a wink and a tilt of her sun-kissed head. "And let me tell you, she was way easier to handle than that mutated monstrosity your friend has."

Martin took the reins and glanced down at the new Keeper. "Well, uh…thank you, my lady. For taking care of her."

Calliope dusted her skirt, folded her fingers together, and leaned forward with her eyes closed and her lips puckered under her nose.

The blood completely drained from Martin's face. He shot Varian a look of pure panic, every muscle around his eyes twitching and spasming. Varian supplied him with a very apathetic shrug. Fighting a cross between a wince and a sneer, Martin forced himself to bend slowly down…and gave Calliope the quickest, barest peck before lurching up onto the horse. Calliope's eyes shot open wide, and she swooned on the spot before falling flat on her face.

"Quick, before she wakes up," Martin hissed as he rode towards Varian. "Let's get out of here!"

Varian stood in shock. "I can't believe you just did that," he admitted with almost reverent awe.

"Yeah, me neither," Martin snapped. "Now, come on!"

"Will you calm down?" Varian insisted. "We can't leave without Shay."

"Well, where is she?!"

Varian sighed. "I don't know." He had asked both the Keeper and Calliope if they had seen her; neither of them had. He had searched every room they allowed, and he'd even dared to pop his head into the bathing room she'd been given. There had been no sign of her since she'd left him. Varian knew she wouldn't have wandered off, and there was no way she would dare to use teleportation magic on her own, especially after what had happened in the Haderon Forest. Then it hit him, clear and obvious. "The sword," he looked to Martin. "Hand me Spellbane for a minute."

The guard turned Beth around so that Varian could retrieve the weapon. The broadsword sat with just the right weight in his hands, and he focused on the runes inscribed upon it. At his bidding, they began to glow dimly, and he turned slowly around, waiting for the change. As he rounded on a craggy cluster of rocks on the crest of a nearby hill, the runes flared a simmering red. Varian crossed over, trudging up the grass until he stood near the rocks.

"Shay," he said.

He felt a hand reach out to touch the fuller of the blade, and the invisibility spell dissolved. Shay looked bedraggled, and her eyes were red from crying. She folded her hands in her wrinkled lap as she sat on one of the rocks, her expression weary.

"It's not your fault," Varian started before she could speak. He reached into his new satchel and produced Lyra's journal. "My memories. Caius. Your mother. You may not believe it, but that doesn't mean it's not true. None of this is your fault."

Shay reached to take the journal, settling it before her. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "So, you did read it. I was wondering if you would. I didn't realize I had left it until after I was gone. Now you know, then."

"And you know I don't hate you."

Tears pricked her eyes, and her jaw clenched.

Varian knelt to her level, carefully placing the sword on the damp earth. "I told you before. We're all in this together, now. So, how about it? You want to help me save the world?"

The phrase brought a twitch of a smile to the corner of Shay's mouth. "'Save the world?'"

"Well, I thought it sounded more dramatic."

"Aye. So, it does." She stood shakily, taking a deep breath. "Please forgive me," she said.

"For what?"

She sighed. "I've been alone for so long. I haven't talked about it much, but…all this time, I've been the only one to worry about myself. I was content, tending to the garden, looking after Killy, travelling on my own to Ghislaine. I'm not used to others worrying about me. It frightens me, this…hope." She swallowed. "I don't want to be let down."

Resolve bolstered Varian's shoulder, numbing the pain. "Maybe others would. I won't."

Shay's cheeks colored. "I believe you. At least, I'll try to."

Varian felt his hand lift to stroke her cheek with his thumb, smearing the drying tear tracks there. "It's a start," he murmured.

They stood there for a moment, each wondering what the other was about to do. Then Shay's eyes lifted up, and Varian felt a puff of hot air as Rudiger snuffled at the back of his head. "Alright, alright," he pushed the racoon gently away. "You'll get attention too, pal." He planted his hands on his hips. "Looks like we have everything we need to make this work."

"Yes," Shay agreed, flashing a small smile as everyone gathered near. "We do." She extended her hand to him, palm upwards. "The medallion, please. I think I know which incantation we need to use."