When Varian opened his eyes, he was lying on his back underneath a forest canopy. Afternoon sunlight filtered in through the changing leaves, illuminating fragile, dry veins. The ground beneath him was cold, and he bolted upright when heard the sound of a crackling fire. To his right was Martin, working the flames with a stick, his blonde head turned to face the pot he was watching over the spit.

What happened?" Varian's voice was hoarse when he spoke, groggy and croaked. "Where are we?"

Martin whipped about, startled, his hand ready to unsheathe his sword. When he saw Varian awake, his alarm evaporated, and his shoulders slumped with relief. "Oh, thank goodness, it's just you." He approached and knelt to grasp Varian's shoulder, as if to make sure he was real. "How are you feeling?"

Varian did a mental check: he was sore, and he felt weak, like he'd just broken a fever, his fingers shaking in his lap. As he tested them, he winced out loud as the pain in his shoulder flared – he could barely move his arm for the pain, though it was only when he tried to move it. "I could be worse," he finally concluded. It wasn't like the arrow was back in his shoulder, but it almost felt like it was again. It was as if the moon's magic had never healed him to begin with, regressed back to a normal healing pace. He hoped it wouldn't be like this with every new moon; if his theory was correct, he would feel progressively better each time, hopefully down to just a dull ache within the next six months. If he was wrong, then he would have to find a stronger painkiller. He looked around some more, taking note of their surroundings. They were in a clearing, most likely in the grove outside Tarapai Village. Rudiger was sleeping nearby, his large stomach swelling in and out as he breathed. Beth was grazing, the mare's tail flicking back and forth as her ears twitched, ready to move at a moment's notice.

He finally took note of Shay, who was lying less than three feet from him. She was still unconscious, but she looked better than before: she was curled up, her face was flushed with sleep, and he could see her eyelids moving as she dreamed. Killy had pressed himself into her stomach, his nose twitching anxiously as he watched and waited. Varian wondered how long the hare had been sitting there, and how much longer before he would move.

"How is she?" he asked.

Martin shrugged, sighing. "About the same as you, after we came back from…wherever that unholy place was." He shivered at the memory, his hand tightening on the grip of his blade again. "We ended up in the same spot, where the chantry had been. I found her with Beth, close by, and neither of you were waking up, so I brought us back to the other animals. Took a while, I had to skirt around the edge of town to avoid scrutiny. You've been asleep all day." He cocked an eyebrow. "Did you…you know, have any weird dreams?"

Varian slowly shook his head. If he had, he couldn't remember, which made sense since his power was gone. But that was speaking only for himself. After everything that had happened, there was no way of knowing how well the girl was faring. She had somehow worked outside of the physical to help them, perhaps even without her realizing what she was actually doing – Varian had no knowledge of the kind of magic it would have taken to perform such a feat. Certainly not the kind of magic Shay was used to, at least. He had seen it happen to her enough times now, but not like this. For all he knew, it could be minutes before she woke up…or days. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Martin coughed, oblivious to who Varian was apologizing to. "Don't be. You saved my life, again." He shook his own head as he stood, crossing back to the pot over the fire. "Some guardsman. No wonder they demoted me."

Varian tore his eyes away, blinking in Martin's direction. "Don't say that. You bought us time to stop Tromus and find our way out of there."

The guard didn't seem convinced, but he offered a shrug. "Well. At least now we can say we've outwitted a phantom. That's something to be proud of, right?"

Varian gave an incredulous, weary smile. "We are alive. I'd call that a win."

"Me, too." Martin pursed his lips. "I think after everything that's happened in the past week, we should be used to this, huh?"

"You'd be the first," Varian mused. Rudiger stirred at the sound of his voice, and he rose up to sit down next to him, nuzzling his big nose between Varian's shoulder blades. "Hey, buddy," Varian pet him with his good arm, wincing again at his bad shoulder. "I missed you, too."

"So, what happened with you?" Martin asked as he helped Varian tie a sling to ease his shoulder. His handiwork was quick, the knot tied well; something he must have been trained to do. "All I remember before the weird dream-stuff started was getting nabbed by What's-His-Face and pulled through some magic door."

Varian chose his words carefully, trying his best to explain without going into too much detail about the dream world he'd been trapped in. He didn't want Martin to know anything about Cassandra, or Cain's murder, or the Crimson Caster. It was all still too raw, too personal, and Martin didn't need to know, anyway. "When I managed to find a way out, there was a door that led to the world you were in. You know the rest."

Martin nodded. It was clear from the pinch between his eyebrows that he knew Varian wasn't giving the whole story, but he didn't press. They sat in silence for a little while, listening to the fire crackle. Varian's growling stomach begged for Martin to hand over a bowl of porridge he'd been working on; the sticky paste was surprisingly good, though it might have just been because Varian was starving. When he was finished, he felt like passing out again, but he forced himself to stay awake.

"You should get some rest," he told Martin.

Martin perked up at the mention of sleep, but he looked uncertain. "Are you sure? Look, I've been trained to stay awake longer. If you need to –"

"Just get some sleep," Varian insisted. "You were kidnapped by a phantom less than twenty-four hours ago. It's okay. Rudiger will let us know if something's up."

Reluctantly, Martin obeyed; he settled down on a bedroll and folded his hands over his chest. Within five minutes, he was snoring, and Varian was left alone with his thoughts. It felt like he'd had no privacy for a long time, and he knew it wouldn't last. He thought about where he was, what had happened for him to be there. Under normal circumstances, he might have experienced an acute anxiety attack, but rather than succumb to the terror of what he'd faced, he found himself using it instead as an excuse not to be afraid. In fact, he felt more capable than he had ever felt before. Was it normal to feel that way? Would the Varian from six months ago have been brave enough to talk back to the eerie, disembodied voice of an interdimensional demon? Foolish enough, maybe, but as far as courage was concerned, Varian couldn't be sure. It had been more than a month now, since he'd escaped that prison. Was he really different than when he and Rudiger had broken through those bars? Would his father even recognize him, once he was free?

He tried to think about what he must look like; he didn't have a mirror, no reflection to check himself in, but he imagined he probably looked different. He felt…less see-through, less fragile. His hair tickled his shoulders; he needed it cut. No scruff on his chin yet, but that was fine – he didn't need the extra hassle of having to shave. He rubbed the skin of his fingers, where a callous had begun to build from all the arrows he'd shot. He would have to fletch more, before they set out again.

Maybe it was because he felt so…whole, now. Of course, he wouldn't be complete until his father was freed, but something inside him felt liberated, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. It took him a minute of searching to realize that it was because he was no longer questioning what he couldn't remember. He knew it all, now, and Lyra had been wrong. He was older now, stronger. He wasn't afraid. Not anymore. He couldn't afford to be, not when Shay was here.

He looked over at her now; he could just make out a bead of drool threatening to trickle down her chin. Before, he might have been embarrassed to see it. Now, he had to fight a chuckle. Looking at her was different, now. Clearer, sharper. It was as if he'd been traveling with a stranger this whole time, but now that stranger was gone, replaced by a young woman he felt like he'd known his whole life. Now that he remembered spending evenings catching fireflies with her, picking flowers to bring home (and experiment with), drawing lines to shape the constellations in the sky…it was like he had never forgotten, like they'd never been apart. He almost felt guilty for forgetting, even though he knew it had been a spell, and one to help him at that.

But as the memories sharpened and cleared his head, something else inside him grew foggier and more uncertain. Shay wasn't a child anymore, and neither was he. He couldn't look at her like he had back then. She was different, they both were, and it was difficult to reconcile. It almost made him feel like a stranger to himself, like the little boy he'd met in that in that illusory world had taken control and was trying to understand what had happened for the past ten years of his life…a boy who once had a very different vision of the future. The idea of it made a particular spot on his cheek burn, and he reached with tingling fingers to touch it, almost without thinking. He knew what it was, or at least what it wanted to be. Or was it what he wanted it to be? But he didn't want to admit it, didn't want to shape it into words, because he knew that if he did, he would have to admit other things, things that he couldn't address right now. There was still an ache, a terrible itch, a question that needed to be answered by someone who wasn't there. Someone else with dark hair, someone with eyes so hazel, they could have held an entire forest in their depths, someone who held a sword like it was part of her very being. Someone who had saved his life.

But then, Shay had saved his life too.

But she wasn't Cassandra.

Did he want her to be?

Rudiger must have sensed his distress, because the racoon had brought himself closer, breathing puffs of air over Varian's head. Varian used his good arm to slide himself back into the creature's furry chest, his eyes unblinking as he listened to Rudiger's heartbeat.

It was foolish, all of it. He was a fool for prioritizing his muddled feelings over what was really important. They had to reach the Mad King's land, and in order for them to do that, they had to cross the sea…without distractions. But getting to the south land was a predicament he had yet to solve. It didn't take long for him to realize how limited his options were: magic had already been ruled out as an option even before Shay had exhausted herself, and hiring a ship was out of the question, since hiding Rudiger would be impossible.

You are my champion, Luna had said. Distance is meaningless, your purpose assured. Varian shook his head. She said she trusted me, he reminded himself. There has to be a way to make this work.

He paced for a long time; the sun began to dip low towards the horizon, and the promise of a new night heralded the last late autumn wind before winter's call. Varian could feel it on his skin: the nip of dryness, and he could hear the sound of coursing waters stilling in the air. He ignored it, too pressed to find an answer to their problem. He muttered to himself, listing every variable and possibility he could think of.

There was that one thing…but no, Varian had never tested it, let alone built one. He had seen the plans once, almost in passing, while he was helping Cassandra dust books in the king's library. Cassandra…he could have spent hours in that place with her, searching for knowledge, sharing their frustrations. He bet Shay would have loved to have seen those books, too. He could almost picture her finger running thoughtfully across the spines…no, no no. Focus. He glanced over at Rudiger, noting the racoon's permanently massive size. Rudiger, yes. Rudiger was here. If Varian did build it, he would have to accommodate for more than just himself. It would have to be massive, bigger than anything the Sapporians had ever made. He had no cloth, no fuel…he didn't even have the blueprints! But if he just had a few days…all he needed was the idea.

"I can do this," he told himself. "I can do this. I just need…paper. I-I need paper." He rummaged about, searching for loose leaf and a quill. Once he had some, he found the flattest, smoothest rock face he could find and began to work, lethargically at first, but as he started to calculate the measurements, he became more energetic, faster. Night fell as he continued to scratch across the parchment, pausing only to add more fuel to the dying flames. He had to be able to see, to continue. There was no moon to light his way, but he didn't need it for this. This was his power, his gift, that no magic could ever substitute.

It was nearly dawn by the time he finished, the quill slipping out of his fingers as he sat back with a sigh. Martin rolled over with a yawn, blinking up at the brightening sky until he realized what time it was. "You let me sleep all night?!" he gasped, lurching up with a jolt.

Varian gazed up through the trees. "Huh. I guess I did."

"What have you been –" Martin fumbled over to see what Varian had been working on. He squinted at the diagram, the list of mathematical dimensions and symbols. "What is that?"

"That –" Varian said with a grin "– is our ticket to the Mad King's kingdom."

Martin looked confused. "Is it a boat? That's one weird-looking sail."

"It's not a sail," Varian stood and stretched his good arm. "It's a…well, it's like a lung. You ever heard of a balloon?"

"Of course, I've heard of a balloon," Martin answered offendedly. He stared some more at Varian's work. "So, what, we're making a giant balloon?"

"Exactly."

Martin paled. "And that's a…we're gonna ride it?"

"Well, no, not like that," Varian crouched again, tracing a circle on the paper with his finger. "See, this is the gondola – kind of like an open-roofed carriage, but without wheels. Normally, I'd construct a basket, but that would be too small to fit all of us."

"So…" Martin swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "So, we're riding under the balloon…in the air…h-how high, exactly?"

Varian stood again, planting his good hand on his hip. "High as a bird, my friend."

"No," Martin answered with an almost hysterical laugh. "Absolutely not, this is crazy."

"I literally can't think of anything better or faster to get us where we need to go," Varian argued.

"We'll be seen!" Martin exclaimed. "People will see us, and they'll think the sky is falling. They-they'll shoot us down, or we'll be…you know, falling. There will be falling involved!"

"Only if I push you out," Varian grumbled under his breath.

Martin looked around, as if searching for something, anything to help support his argument. His eyes landed on Shay, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "She wouldn't agree with this, I know she wouldn't!"

"You don't know that," Varian countered. "And besides, she's…unavailable right now, so you're point is rendered academic."

"I'll render you academic," Martin retorted. "Have you tried waking her up?"

Varian's brain stalled at the question. "I…no."

Martin became sober for an instant. "You mind if I try something?"

"Like what?" Varian watched as Martin crossed over and knelt at Shay's side. Killy leapt away, sniffing at Martin's boots, his brown ears raised high from his head. Varian reached to scoop the hare into his good arm; the creature squirmed at first, then settled stiffly down, waiting at a moment's notice to leap free. Martin took the girl's head in his hands, and a jolt of panic shot up Varian's spine like a lightning bolt. "Hey, you're not – !"

"What?" Martin scoffed, glancing irritatedly at him. Then a smirk crossed his features. "You thought I was going to –"

"No!" Varian said a little too loudly. "I was just…" He petered off; his face was on fire. The very idea of…it made him feel nauseous and ready to tackle Martin away at the same time.

Martin raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. "If you want to try that, I won't stand in your way."

"Absolutely not," Varian answered through gritted teeth.

"Okay," Martin said, his mirth disappearing. "Just relax."

Varian's eyes swerved down, staring bitterly at the top of Killy's head. "Probably wouldn't work, anyway," he muttered.

Martin's eyebrows skyrocketed. "What, me kissing her, or you?"

Varian's nausea surged. "Look, just…what was it you were going to try?" he snapped.

"Bear with me," Martin clipped his jaw back on and repositioned Shay's head. "I do this to my sister all the time. And you're sworn to secrecy if this doesn't work." He stuck one of his fingers into his mouth, then planted it in Shay's ear.

The results were immediate: Shay awoke with a gasp, slapping Martin's hand away with a cringe. She whined something in Celtic before searching wildly about with a pair of bleary, mismatched eyes. "What happened? Are we back? Did the spell work? I wasn't sure if –"

"It worked," Varian observed in a deadpan tone. He didn't resist as Killy kicked himself free, bounding forward into Shay's lap.

"Never fails," Martin stood, dusting dirt from his knees. "You're welcome."

"Oh." Shay rubbed at her ear. Killy came to sniff at it, licking her cheek. "It feels like a slug crawled in there…wait." She blinked rapidly. Her pupils were dilated, and her arms shook as she sat up. "Where are we? How long have I been –"

"Long enough," Varian answered, relief washing over him. She was awake, and that was all that mattered. As they helped her gather her surroundings, he watched her carefully, waiting for any ill effects to surface. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but after being asleep for so long, he was worried. She was definitely disoriented, asking more than once where they were and how long she had been asleep.

"What do you think?" Martin asked, eyeing Varian cautiously as he ladled leftover porridge into a bowl. "She's almost acting like she's drugged."

Varian chewed his lip. This was different than before, when she'd overtaxed herself. She'd been distressed, but never so confused. "It's like she's recovering from anesthesia. Apothecaries use it," he explained when Martin looked confused, "to numb the nerves when they pull teeth."

Martin frowned. "My grandpa had a bad tooth once. He just yanked it out."

"Good for him," Varian droned. "She might be more talkative than usual, and it may take her a while to fully understand where she is, but I think she'll be okay." Killy had wandered now, less concerned, which told Varian that he probably needn't worry so much. After having a literal out-of-body experience, it only made sense for Shay to be confused…right? "We'll wait until she's out of it before we show her the plan."

"What plan?" Shay looked alarmed, still blinking widely, as if trying to clear her vision. Her accent was much more noticeable, thick and slurred. "There's a plan? I want to help with a plan. Plans are good. Good plans…What plan? I like plans."

"Shut it," Varian hissed when Martin snorted. "Are you hungry, Shay? We've got food."

Shay took a protracted moment to think about it, rubbing her stomach like a child. "Um…yes. I think? Where are we again?" She mumbled some more as the porridge was placed carefully in her shaking hands. As she began to eat, her mumbling stopped, and instead she started to cry. She cleaned her bowl, still weeping, shuddering as if she might crumble into pieces.

Martin and Varian looked at each other; the guard had instantly donned a look of discomfort; he clearly didn't like (or knew what to do about) seeing people cry. "That's normal, too," Varian mouthed.

"If you say so," Martin muttered. "I'm going to go get some more firewood." The animals watched him leave the clearing – Beth stirred uneasily, sensing her master's absence, but she stayed put.

Varian knelt down, carefully brushing the hair out of Shay's wet face. "Shay. Does it hurt anywhere? I need to know."

Her eyes were clearer now, the hiccups subsiding. She shook her head until she became dizzy. "No, I'm just…" She covered her eyes with her palms. "I'm just trying to remember…"

"Remember what?"

"I…I was…the phantom. Tromus. He attacked us."

Varian looked down at her. "Yes."

She started patting at her apron, searching her pockets. She produced the small black book, thumbing with trembling fingers to a certain page. "There was nothing I could do…except this." She flattened it out, stabbing once at a series of words.

Varian folded his hands over hers, forcing the page to stay still. He didn't read the words out loud, but he could hear Shay's voice quote the first phrase in his memory:

Seven Stars on high

Sing your melody

As the moon grows nigh

Reveal the way to me

Light the darkened sky

Let the aimless see

Listen to my cry

And show the way to me

Varian glanced at the rest of the page. There was a scribble of handwriting above the spell, barely legible:

The Pleiades Incantation, transcribed from my personal grimoire, to be received by the Spire for its records. With this transcription, I include my personal warning, as well as that of my ancestors: to invoke the Seven Sisters is to call upon their timeless knowledge and boundless power. Should they accept your plea, the incantation becomes a key, through which this boon is unlocked. Use it, and you invite a consequence only those with the willpower of a revenant can master. As such, I strongly recommend that it be used only when no other course is given. To any and all who would seek the might of the Seven Sisters, be wise.

Varian read the note three times, chewing on it in his brain until he had it memorized. Then he looked over the spell again, mouthing the words with his lips. "It sounds almost like the Healing Incantation," he realized out loud, "like the one Rapunzel used. Like the one I used when…"

Shay nodded, slowly. "Yes," she said, her words back to their usual, quiet tone. "I'd never experienced anything like it before. It was…terrifying." She shuddered, then exhaled. "And yet…I understand things I hadn't before. You were right. I was able, but I wasn't ready. Now, I think…I think I can help you, now, the way I should have been."

"But you have been helping me," Varian insisted.

"No," Shay shook her head, staring hazily down at her hands. "Not like this. It's…different, now. No more fumbling in the dark." She gave a shuddering sigh. "Still, I hope we won't be in enough trouble for me to use it again…before this is over."

"Do you remember what happened?" Varian asked. "How you fended off Tromus?"

"Yes," Shay answered, her jaw clenching. "It won't be like what happened with the wolves, or like at the Saison River. Not anymore. From now on, I will remember. And I don't think I'll ever forget."

Varian felt a frustrating pang of confusion; he got the feeling that even if she wasn't dazed, Shay wouldn't be able to provide him with a better explanation. He still wasn't sure what it all meant, but he supposed the only thing that mattered was that his friends were safe. He left it alone after that; the sooner they could put the entire incident with the phantom behind them, the better. It seemed that they had all been changed by their encounter with Tromus. There were still matters of his own that he needed to explain, things Shay needed to know, but it would have to wait for now, at least until after their way across the sea was made.

For the next few hours, Shay was a bit shaken, but by the end of the day, she was her old, silent self again. When Martin returned with an armful of branches, he looked around at everyone and forced a smile. "Well, it's good to see that we're all still in one piece, after that fiasco. I can't say I wasn't worried." He set the pile down and fed some logs to the dying embers; after a few moments of stirring the hot ashes, flames fluttered to life once more, biting back against the cold breeze. "Winter's on the way, now. Do we have enough to keep us warm?"

"I think so," Varian answered, checking through one of the bags: a set of heavy cloaks and winter boots were tucked neatly away. "The Keeper has good foresight. I would have thought of it too late."

Martin nodded. "Me, too." He glanced hesitantly in Shay's direction. "Have you showed her your, uh…plans, yet?"

Varian shook his head. "I wanted to wait until you were back." He unfolded his hastily scripted blueprints before them, pinning the paper edges down with loose rocks. "The Sapporians call their version a 'hot air balloon' – not a very original name, in my humble opinion – my model's called the 'airship.'"

Martin and Shay frowned at the name. "Doesn't really look like a ship," Martin pointed out.

"Don't criticize my names," Varian warned. Rudiger came over to see, his head lowering on top of Varian's like a big, furry canopy. "Anyway, it's the same principle, except instead of sailing on the water, we're going to sail through the air."

"Like a…kite?" Shay squinted, turning her head to get a better angle of the diagram.

"You ever heard of a balloon?" Martin asked.

Shay's face burned. "Yes, I know what a balloon is," she hissed at him.

"Just checking," Martin replied defensively.

Varian cleared his throat. "Guys, stay with me. Here's how it'll work." Everyone gathered close, including the animals, trying to understand as Varian described the various functions of his carefully designed airship. In theory, it was all relatively simple, at least to him. But he could see Martin's eyebrows nearly joining together with frustration, and even Shay was chewing her lip in concern.

"I think," she proposed slowly, once he was finished, "it'll be easier for us to understand how it'll work after we've built it."

"Yeah," Martin shook his bewildered head, "and the materials alone are hard enough to wrap my head around. How many yards of fabric did you say we need?"

"Listen," Varian sat back, his face illuminated by the campfire's light. "I know it sounds daunting, but I've thought of literally everything else. Anything we try will either get me recognized, or we'd have to steal our way across that sea. This is the cleanest, least criminal, most fool-proof option we have. And it will be five times faster than a boat."

Martin sighed sharply. "No matter what we do, we risk being found here. I don't know what the local law enforcement is like, but with a harbor right there, I can guarantee any suspicious activity won't go unnoticed."

"We won't be doing anything suspicious to make this," Varian reassured him. "I have twelve silver left. We should be able to afford everything we need. If we come up short…haggle it down if you can, otherwise I'll see if we can substitute with whatever we can find out here."

Shay sighed, mulling it over. "Fuel won't be an issue. If heat is all we need, I can provide that. If we're short on materials, I can use a duplication spell, but whatever I duplicate won't be as strong."

"I'll figure it out," Varian nodded, grinning with relief; with magic as their fuel, the build time was effectively cut in half. "We'll dispense the support evenly to prevent malfunctions."

"It's been a while since I've practiced my haggling skills, but I had a good teacher," Martin rubbed the back of his tense neck. "It's a port, so finding sail fabric shouldn't be too hard."

"And I'll work on making the gondola," Varian concluded; he was starting to feel it, that familiar confidence he always felt when his work was starting to take form. "I'll have to reinforce it with metal to support everyone's weight, so keep an eye out for a good pole bar or two."

Martin shook his head again. "I still think this is crazy. If man or horses or racoons were meant to fly, we'd have wings."

"And if something goes wrong," Shay speculated, "we'll have only the sea beneath us." She swallowed hard, blushing. "And I don't know how to swim."

"Well, we'd be high enough up that it wouldn't matter whether you can swim or not," Martin pointed out. "You'd be dead just from the…" He blanched when he saw Shay's horrified expression. "…Yeah, like I said, this is crazy."

Varian tested his fingers. His shoulder still hurt, but there was something returning to him, just the faintest flicker. He adjusted the sling over his collarbone, his lips set in a grim line.

I trust you, the Celestial had said.

"If I was doing this on my own," he admitted, "I'm almost positive something would go wrong. But you guys are helping me build this. You can help me make sure the math is right, that the measurements are correct, that every seam has been sewn and every winch bolted down. I've never had that kind of help before. Maybe if I had, we wouldn't be here right now. But we can do this."

Martin stared down at the blueprints, his jaw tense. Varian was expecting him to refuse. But eventually, the guard closed his eyes. "Alright," he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's do this."

Varian looked at Shay. She nodded slowly.

"Besides," Varian sucked in a deep breath. "I've always wanted to fly."