Rapunzel felt the spell before she saw it. It was like a buzzing in her teeth, a hum in the back of her head that felt all too familiar by this point. As she rode with the others to reach the castle, she looked to see the magic descending over the capitol in a wide blanket.

"She's already there!" she exclaimed. "We're too late!"

"Stay calm, Princess," Quirin told her over the rushing wind. "We must hold out hope that she hasn't harmed anyone!"

"Yeah?" Eugene called over Rapunzel's shoulder. "We're talking about a crazy, all-powerful witch who just cast a spell over the entire island! I'm not holding my breath!"

"Eugene!" Varian barked. "Not helping!"

"I haven't seen anyone on the trails we've passed," Martin pointed out, Bethany tossing her head as he encouraged her forward. "That concerns me, there's usually someone gathering wood or scavenging. It's like everyone's –"

"Hiding," Yaeger agreed, his eyes narrow against the chill air. "They know something's wrong, or they've seen something we haven't, yet."

As they reached the field before the main road, Rudiger skidded to a halt, a hoarse yip escaping the raccoon's throat. Varian nearly flew off head-first, and he steadied himself as he gaped at the scene. The entire field, clear to the horizon, was filled with undead soldiers, most of which were naked skeletons, bones white and streaked with mud. It was a horrific sight that made his fight-or-flight response kick in, and he fought the urge to turn tail and run.

Martin made a weak sound. "That makes me want to cry."

Even Yaeger's face was pale. "We don't have enough men to face this," he breathed.

"We have to keep moving," Rapunzel urged. "I have to get to my dad. Come on, Max."

The stallion hesitated before stepping out onto the main road, eyes and ear alert for the first sign of movement from the undead horde. A few skeletons turned their heads at the approach, but to Rapunzel's puzzlement, they didn't move.

"They're not attacking," Martin observed as they slowly followed, making their way down the packed dirt road. "Why aren't they attacking?"

"I don't know," Quirin admitted. "If I had to guess, she wants us to come."

Varian didn't like the sound of that. "You don't think she knows our plan, do you?"

"She definitely expects us to do something about all this," Quirin answered, "which is why we need to be careful."

Varian caught himself wishing Caius was with them, and he felt something bitter coat the back of his tongue at the irony of it. The witch hunter had opted to remain at the cabin, "just in case", he'd said. There wasn't any room for him on Rudiger's back at the time, anyway, and despite his assertions, he still needed time to recover. Besides, Varian was certain that if he had come, it would only aggravate Lyra more; the woman probably thought he was dead, and in hindsight, it was best she continued believing it.

After an hour, the bridge yawned before them, and as they finally reached the gates, they saw the guards slumped on the ground, helmets knocked askew. Quirin dismounted and reached the men first, searching for a pulse. "They're alive," he told the others. "She's cast a sleep spell on everyone. That's a good sign," he told Rapunzel when he saw her concerned face. "It means she hasn't hurt anyone, yet."

"It's still a threat to my kingdom," Rapunzel countered. "We need to find her and put an end to this."

"I need to reach that study," Varian told Martin.

"I'm with you," Martin nodded. "Let's go."

They split up in the castle courtyard: Rapunzel and Quirin made their way to the main doors, while Eugene and Yaeger took their mounts and crossed over to the barracks. Varian and Martin ducked through the servant's entrance, picking their way carefully through the kitchen as they stepped cautiously over the slumbering cooks and snoring maids.

"I hope my family's okay," Martin admitted as they entered the stairwell to the study.

"They should be asleep, like everyone else," Varian reassured him. "I'm sure they're fine."

"Varian," Martin paused on a step. Varian stopped and looked at his concerned face. "Do you think…if Shay was here, she could stop this? Would any of this be happening?"

Varian's expression twitched at the mention of the name, and his mouth suddenly burned. "I don't know if any of us can stop this," he admitted, his jaw tight as he clenched his teeth. "I can't pretend I don't understand what it feels like to be all alone, that lust for revenge stewing in you like…like poison. I just know that Lyra's hurting, and when you hurt that much, you don't want to listen to anyone. Not even family."

Martin looked forlorn. "I don't want to have to kill anyone," he whispered.

Varian reached down and gripped his friend's shoulder. "No one's going to die, Martin. We're going to make this right. For Shay, for the princess…for everyone."

The guard's eyes went watery. "Thanks. For what it's worth, I'm glad you broke out that day." He broke into a salute, hand clasped tightly over his heart. "And I'm honored to have been assigned to be your guard."

Varian tried to make a face, but his eyes were wet. "Come on, man, don't get mushy on me."

"Shut up," Martin gave him a shove. "Let's get moving." They finally reached the study and gingerly hauled a sleeping Guard Stan out of the way before entering the room. The place was exactly as Varian had left it, and Martin watched as the alchemist immediately went to work, scrounging for the papers he needed and assembling a variety of tools from his desk. "So, you said you can make something that will help us," Martin prompted as he stood back, waiting to be needed.

"I have two things," Varian answered, strapping his goggles over his eyes as he began to measure and pour. "One is my trademark amber solution."

"The stuff that froze your dad?"

"Yes." The pain he might have felt with that statement was gone now, absolved by his father's freedom. "It reacts particularly with the Moonstone's magic signature – at least, I think it's a signature. With it, we can hypothetically isolate the Moonstone from Lyra, depriving her of that power source." He stopped talking for a moment as he concentrated, counting drops from a syringe. "Of course, once we do that, she'll still have her own magic to call on, which, all things considered, might be just as powerful as what the Moonstone provides."

Martin frowned. "How do you mean?"

Varian leaned back, drumming his foot as he waited impatiently for the solution to percolate. "Shay once told me that more complex spells normally require more than one mage to cast them. It's just a theory, but I think Lyra's using the Moonstone to serve that purpose. I think she's using it like a focus, a magnifying glass, if you will. Instead of using it to amplify the strength of her magic, I think she's using the Moonstone to fine-tune it, so that she has more control. That way, she can perform more complex spells than she otherwise might be able to."

"What kind of spells?"

"Necromancy, for one thing," Varian stated, swirling a vial in his fingertips. "I bet that without the Moonstone, she'd lose complete control over most of that undead army out there." He paled. "Which could mean they'll either no longer be a threat, or they'll start killing people without a whim."

Martin puffed his cheeks and blew out a protracted breath. "Fantastic."

"Relax," Varian tapped the glass containing the yellow solution, settling the fluid inside. "Once we get the Moonstone back, I'll use it to shut down the whole thing."

"I thought you said you couldn't use the Moonstone anymore. Lyra made the whole 'champion' thing up."

Varian's expression became hard. "I've been thinking about that," he admitted in a terse mutter. "I think Lyra was lying about a lot of things, but the concept of a Celestial wasn't one of them."

Martin shook his head. "I don't understand."

"I believe," Varian corked the solution and folded a bundle of papers into a satchel, "that the Moonstone is the 'Celestial'. I believe that wherever these ancient relics came from, they command a degree of sentience, that they decide who is worthy to tap into their powers or not."

"You think the Moonstone chose you," Martin nodded slowly. "Because of your bloodline?"

"I don't know. All I know is that when I held that stone, it felt…right." Varian took a deep breath. "And I think that when we do this," he answered, "it'll at least give me one last chance."

"Well," Martin planted his hands on his hips. "Let's not waste it, then."

"Here," Varian handed him the solution. "I trust you with this more than with me, especially where we're headed."

"Why?" Martin stared as they crossed back to the door. "Where are we going now?"

"Into town," Varian called over his shoulder as he started back down the stairwell. "We're going to the forge."

Rapunzel balked as they reached the doors to the judgment hall. She stared up at the wood carvings, the gold filigree, the portraits of her ancestors that lined the walls. The evening seemed to press down on her, the world heavier as the Sun disappeared. She took a moment to breathe, counting each inhale, letting it out through pursed lips.

"After everything I've been through," she said quietly. "This place finally feels like home. I don't want that taken away from me."

Quirin stood by her side, his black armor reflecting her pinched expression. He placed a gloved hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, his eyes soft as his words. "Whatever happens, your Highness, I am grateful to have you as the future ruler of this kingdom."

Rapunzel smiled weakly. "If it will be my kingdom."

"Lyra has no wish for the throne," Quirin reassured her. "What she wants is to be heard."

Rapunzel took one last deep breath. "Then let's go listen."

With Quirin's help, she pushed open the doors, the hinges creaking in loud echoes through the castle as the deep-colored carpet stretched out before their feet. The judgment hall was empty, completely devoid of life, the pillars casting long shadows across the glossy marble. The stained glass windows glittered in bits of red and gold, catching the light of the setting sun.

Sitting on the throne was King Frederick, dressed in his absolute finest, his hands pressed tightly into the mahogany handrests. His crown was fixed neatly atop his head, and his eyes burned with urgency as his daughter arrived.

"Rapunzel!"

"Dad!" Rapunzel ran to him, hovering around the throne like a bee. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? She didn't hurt you, did she?"

The king looked more and more alarmed the more questions she asked. "What do you know, Rapunzel? Tell me, how much do you know?"

"She knows, Frederick." Lyra spoke, suddenly standing right next to Rapunzel. The princess jumped back with a gasp, gripping her father's arm. "Despite your efforts to hide it, she knows."

"Know what?" Rapunzel demanded. "I don't understand, you – you haven't even hurt him. What is it that you want, Lyra?" Dread filled her when she realized who was missing. "Where's my mother?"

"Your mother is fine," Frederick was the one who spoke. "I've seen her myself. She's asleep, like the others."

"Lyra, please," Rapunzel tried. "Whatever it is, I'm willing to listen."

"Good," Lyra turned to her, a hint of genuine relief creasing her white eyes. "I'll ask for your patience, then, while we wait for the others."

"What others, Lyra?" Quirin spoke up from where he stood at the foot of the dais. "Come now, you can be honest with me. There must be something I can do to help you."

Lyra smiled sadly. "My dear friend. You are already doing everything you can to help me. I'm glad that you're here."

Quirin set his jaw. "Who else are you waiting for, Lyra?"

"Your son, for one," Lyra admitted. "He needs to be here, if for nothing more than to serve as a witness. I expect his friend to be with him, and I shall wait on the Lunarian prince to arrive, as well."

"Eugene," Rapunzel clarified.

"Yes."

Quirin cast his eyes around the hall, his brow dark with determination. "You've invited something else here, Lyra. What is it?"

Rapunzel could feel it too, like a storm cloud growing closer over her head. She fought back a shiver, focusing on Lyra's nebulous face. "It's your army, isn't it?"

Lyra pursed her lips. "My army is a precaution, more of a display than anything. It got your attention, and it will make sure you stay attentive."

Rapunzel set her jaw. "We're still missing someone. Someone who should be here more than any of us. Why did you lock Shay away?"

The Crimson Caster's eyebrow twitched, and the muscles in her neck went taut. "My hawk is safe," she said in a clipped tone.

"Maybe," Rapunzel conceded. "But I don't think that's why you put her in that tomb. I think you put her there so that she couldn't reach you, to tell you that what you're doing is wrong."

Lyra's eyes flashed. "Take care, princess."

"Listening goes both ways," Rapunzel pushed. "We'll hear you out, Lyra, but we have words of our own."

Resentment slowly seeped into Lyra's features. "You will speak," she agreed, "but it will be in agreement."

Rapunzel felt the intense urge to protest, but Quirin's hand fell promptly on her shoulder. "Easy, your Highness," he whispered. "We must play along."

"I just hope Varian finds what he needs," she whispered back.

It wasn't long before Eugene arrived with Yaeger, who was quick to level a crossbow in Lyra's direction. "Your Majesty," he called across the hall. "Are you alright?"

"Stand down, lieutenant," the king responded, shooting Yaeger a meaningful glare. As Yaeger reluctantly lowered his weapon, someone else moved out of the shadows behind him. Rapunzel looked to see Cassandra appear, wrapped in a thick, wool cloak. Dropping the hood from her eyes, they could see that she was…normal. Concerned, a bit despondent, but there was a light there that Rapunzel thought she would never see again.

"Cass!"

Cassandra read the room, her hazel eyes widening with mild surprise. "Wow. I thought you two were joking." Her gaze finally fell on Rapunzel, and she looked away, shame creeping up her jawline. "Hi, Rapunzel. It's…good to see you're okay."

Rapunzel was a mix of emotions, and she wasn't sure which one to pick, so she settled on quiet honesty. "I'm glad you're okay, too."

Cassandra's mouth wrinkled upwards, just a bit. "So, you're the Crimson Caster," she said to Lyra. "I thought you were just a fairy tale my dad used to tell me at night."

When Lyra spoke, it was in a brisk, icy tone. "I'm aware of the threat you imposed upon my daughter. I assure you, the only reason why I am permitting you to be here, alive, is because your testimony is required."

There was no stopping Cassandra as she scoffed. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

Lyra raised her fingers and snapped, crisp, final. Cassandra suddenly shot across the hall, neck grasped hard in the witch's clenched hand. With a strength unfitting her slender form, the Crimson Caster hauled Cassandra slowly off the floor, ignoring the woman's attempts to break free. No words, no biting remark, just venom in her eyes and a body as still as stone.

"Let her go, Lyra!" Rapunzel cried.

The Crimson Caster's fingers tightened, nails digging into Cassandra's skin. "Not yet, I suppose." Two protracted seconds later, she let go, and Cassandra fell to the floor in a heap, coughing and gasping. Rapunzel was running forward, reaching for her handmaiden's arm. Cassandra allowed the princess to help her to her feet, and they both shot daggers at the witch as she fixed them with her white stare. "You are kind, princess. Unexpectedly so."

"Come on," Rapunzel ushered Cassandra away; Cassandra obeyed, a bit dazed and surprised at Rapunzel's help. "All that's left is Varian, right?" Rapunzel asked.

Lyra nodded once. "He works quickly under pressure. He's on his way."

The next hour passed slowly, the sun's final rays deepening into purple evening streaks through the windowpanes. Rapunzel caught the faint scent of lilacs from the garden in the courtyard as she sat with Cassandra and the others in the courtier wings, the cushioned benches offering little comfort.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly said to Cassandra.

Cassandra blinked, still wheezy from the threat on her life. The bruises were already showing through her skin, purple marks from Lyra's suffocating grip. "Why?" she grumbled. "You didn't do anything. This is all my fault."

Rapunzel shook her head. "No. This is because I didn't trust Varian."

Cassandra gave a half-hearted shrug. "That's not just you. No one listens to him. But I'm pretty sure it's more because I…wasn't honest with you. About my mother."

Rapunzel felt forlorn all of a sudden, like she was standing alone in her tower again. Pascal, ever present on her shoulder, gave her cheek a pat with his green foot. "I know what it's like to feel like you're being denied something. I had that for eighteen years."

"I suppose you did." Cassandra's hands fisted handfuls of her cloak. "I'd forgotten that. I let Zhan Tiri get to me…at least, that would be my excuse." She sucked in a deep breath. "I said horrible things to you, and you didn't deserve any of it. You're a good person, Rapunzel. Even the crazy lady holding us here recognizes that."

Rapunzel tried to smile, but it came across as a wince. "I don't know what's going to happen. But I'm glad you're here with us."

Cassandra mirrored the wince, and her eyes watered. "I know things can't go back to the way they were, but…I'm just glad I got to apologize."

It was the best they could get, considering the circumstance, and Rapunzel accepted it gratefully, happy that she could get some closure before whatever happened next.

And what happened next would change her kingdom forever.