The door Vogt had come through banged open again, and Eric and Clara jerked their heads up at the sound of pattering feet approaching the orchestra pit. Eric drew Clara against him and glanced at the scepter. But before he could reach for it, a familiar face poked over the edge of the pit.
"Tommy!" exclaimed Clara.
"Clara!" cried Tommy happily. He jumped into the pit and rushed forward.
Clara broke away from Eric to envelop her brother in a fierce hug, laughing tearfully as she kissed Tommy's hair.
"You're alright!" sputtered Tommy. "You're alright!" He made a sound that was close to a sob. "We tried so hard to get here before those men could do anything to you."
"I know, Tommy. I'm so proud of you – you did such a wonderful job." Clara smiled and gave her brother a squeeze. "I promise, I'm perfectly fine."
Eric affectionately slung his arm over Tommy. "You were fantastic, Tommy. I couldn't have done it without you."
Tommy grinned, then broke away from them both to gesture excitedly at his brother-in-law. "Have you seen what Eric's umbrella does? It's incredible!" He dug into his pocket, pulling out a small handful of glowing ginger drops. "Look what he did to my candy!" His mouth took on a mischievous slant. "They were those smoke bombs I threw."
Clara pursed her lips. "Well, while I appreciate Eric giving you something to protect yourself with, he will be disenchanting the remaining ginger drops." She looked at Eric in warning. "Won't you." It was not a question.
Eric gave a short laugh, then held out his hand expectantly. "Give them here, Tommy."
Tommy gave Eric a look of disbelief. "Must I?"
"Yes," said Eric firmly. "You must."
Tommy hesitated, glancing between Eric and Clara in dismay. Then he sighed in disappointment. "Fine." He poured the candies into Eric's waiting palm.
"And the ones in your pocket," prompted Eric.
Tommy frowned, but obediently shoved his hand into his pocket to surrender the remaining candies. Eric lifted the spell on them easily. Yet he did not to return them to Tommy, wary of the possible effects the ginger drops may have if eaten, now that they had been touched by magic. To compensate for Tommy's loss, Eric promised to buy him an entire bag of candies as soon as he could.
"What about him?" Tommy asked, gesturing to Vogt.
Eric's mouth dipped into an uncertain frown. What were they to do with Vogt? And his men? They could not leave them in this world. Even in prison they would be too dangerous with their knowledge of Parthenia, and whatever other abilities Vogt may have learned. They had to bring them back. But how, with just him and Clara? Going back to Parthenia for reinforcements would be too time-consuming, even if one did not factor in the time shifts.
Eric looked at Clara, lost as to what to do. She grimaced, then glanced at Tommy. "Tommy, why don't you go and make sure all of the lights in the theatre box are doused? I should hate it if the school were to accidently burn down."
Tommy hesitated, sensing the odd discomfort that had settled over Eric and Clara. But he nodded and reluctantly headed for the stairs leading out the orchestra pit, disappearing back onto the main level of the theatre.
Clara's attention fell to Eric's arm, which was bleeding from the gash Vogt's knife had made. Her brow creased in concern. "Eric, you're bleeding."
Eric glanced down at the arm. "Oh." He barely felt the sting of it anymore, too preoccupied by the dilemma before him.
Clara reached for the injured arm. "Here, let me bandage it."
"It's fine – for now." Eric gently pushed Clara's hand away and waved at Vogt. "This is more important." He sighed. "We cannot leave them here, Clara; they need to be brought back to Parthenia. But the only way I can think of transporting them effectively is if I…" He swallowed, a horrible churning seizing his stomach.
He couldn't transform them. He could not do to others what Mausher had done to him. He had made a promise to himself, when he had been crowned king, that he would never use transformation spells as a punishment. Even on someone as dangerous as Vogt. There had to be another way.
But there wasn't. He knew there wasn't.
A mangled sound of frustration and grief escaped his throat, and he looked pleadingly at Clara. "Clara, I can't," he whispered.
Empathetic sorrow seeped into Clara's eyes. "Is there any other way to get them to Parthenia?" There was not much hope in her question. It was clear she already knew the answer, but she asked regardless.
There was a long moment of silence.
"No," Eric said quietly. "No, there isn't." He let out a low breath and turned away, running his hand through his hair in agitation. Helpless to offer an alternative, Clara could only watch as Eric paced the floor. Finally, Eric stilled and faced Vogt once again. He set his jaw. "I'll be sure his men are sleeping as well. I do not want them awake during it." He tightened his hand on the scepter until his knuckles flared white. His movements stiff, he slowly aimed the scepter at Vogt's limp body.
"Transform his flesh into a body of glass…"
Eric's voice trembled, and the words broke off with a choked sound. The scepter shook violently in Eric's grip as he glanced away, unable to finish the incantation.
In the same manner as she had done before, Clara laid her hand over Eric's that clutched the scepter. Then she spoke, providing him with the words he lacked the strength to form.
"Until the spell has been lifted, so that justice may come to pass," she murmured.
Eric returned his gaze to Vogt. He inhaled deeply and repeated Clara's words, knowing they would work just as well as anything he could have conjured up. While Eric had grown up memorizing numerous spells for the scepter, there were many that he simply came up with himself. Either way, it did not matter if he authored the incantations or not, so long as he spoke them aloud. As king, it was his voice that the scepter needed for spells to be cast properly.
Rigid with tension, Eric did not look away as Vogt shrank and contorted into a glass ornament figure. When it was done, Eric let the scepter drop to the floor.
Clara's heart broke upon seeing his expression. She brought her hands up to cradle Eric's face, turning him away from Vogt's enchanted form. "There was no other way," she said. "It was an action of necessity, not vengeance."
Eric did not reply, as he did not trust his voice. He closed his eyes, guilt gnawing at the anguish within him from the promise he had broken.
Unsure what else to say, Clara let her attention fall back to his still-bleeding arm. "You must let me bind it, Eric." She lowered her hand to his arm. "Please."
Eric nodded, and allowed her to wrap the bloody gash with a strip of cloth she tore from her petticoat. Tommy soon returned, and Clara promptly steered him towards the hallway leading towards the school's main entrance. She instructed her brother to wait there, which he did begrudgingly.
Back inside the school, Eric put Vogt's men under enchanted sleeps, then transformed them into ornaments similar to Vogt's form. Clara stayed by his side the entire time, gathering up the ornaments carefully. They were quiet when they met Tommy at the school's entrance, and Tommy, though confused, sensed that it was best not to speak. With a heavy solemnness blanketing the three, the group made their way back to the Drosselmeyer house.
Walther had fallen asleep waiting for them. Clara and Eric didn't mind though, not wanting to be bothered with questions at the moment. The ornaments were stored in a box and placed in Herr Drosselmeyer's study downstairs, where they would remain until Clara and Eric left for Parthenia. Though uneasy at having the ornaments in the house, Clara did not voice her feelings on the matter. She kept her expression free of any lingering concerns as she ushered Tommy into bed, then returned to her and Eric's room.
Eric was sitting on the edge of their bed, staring at the scepter in his hands. Hearing Clara enter the room made him glance up, and he set the scepter down tiredly.
Clara gave him a sympathetic look as she settled onto the bed beside him. She took his hands in hers. "Eric, it's alright. The enchantment is only temporary, and in their sleep they are not even aware of it. Please," she begged. "Please do not feel guilt over this. You could have simply killed Vogt. But you are bringing him back, alive, to Parthenia. That is something to be admired, Eric. Something to feel proud over."
Eric sighed. "I know. I just…I never thought I would have to do that."
"Doing so does not make you an evil person. Casting a spell to ensure that we could transport those men back to Parthenia in a manner that ensured our safety was a logical deed, not one of malice." She leaned forward until their foreheads rested against each other's. "Do not let this weigh on your heart, love."
The pained look that had been plaguing Eric's expression ebbed into simple exhaustion. "Thank you, Clara," he whispered.
Clara tenderly kissed his cheek. "Now," she said, pulling away. "Let me see your arm. I'm afraid my petticoat bandage will not suffice for much longer."
Eric's mouth curved into a small smile, and he obligingly rested his injured arm on Clara's lap. Clara was right: the makeshift bandage looked about ready to fall off. The cloth was ragged from all that Clara's dress had gone through during past hours, its dingy state only emphasized by the stains of dirt and blood.
Clara tutted at the disgraceful bandage, then stood and left the room to retrieve a medical kit. She returned quickly and instructed Eric to shed his jacket and shirt so that she could properly tend to him. He did, and she exchanged the pitiful bandage for a fresh one. Fortunately, the cut was rather shallow, so stitches would not be not necessary. Regardless, fury flashed in her eyes as the wound was exposed to her. The expression was not missed by Eric, and he brushed his fingers against her cheek reassuringly.
"Don't worry – it doesn't hurt," he said. The corner of his lips twitched upwards. "Much."
Clara gave him a look of exasperated affection. Then a sudden light twinkled in her eyes, and she flashed him a soft smile. "You know, you never did make good on your promise to pay me for all of this bandaging I do for you."
"I haven't?" Eric grinned.
Clara held back a sigh of relief. It was the first expression Eric had made since they had returned to the house that wasn't shadowed by misery. Her smile widened, and she took his hand. "No, you have not."
"Well then, I shall have to remedy that." Eric pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "And I know just what to do."
"Do you?" Clara teased gently. "Tell me."
Eric shook his head. "I most certainly will not. It shall be a surprise."
"For when? Tomorrow?"
Eric chuckled. "We'll have to see." He swept a lock of Clara's hair over her shoulder, and his brow creased as a thought suddenly came to him. "Clara, when you and Vogt were in the theatre box, something made him drop his revolver. He acted as though it had burned him." He looked at her curiously. "Was that you?"
A blush bloomed on Clara's cheeks, but there was an unmistakable glint of pride in her eyes. "Yes," she admitted.
"It was your magic?"
"Yes. I…I'm not really sure how I did it. But somehow, I…manipulated the revolver, and made it sear with heat." She shrugged. "I figured that would be the best way to make him drop it."
Eric stared at her. "You can do that?"
"Apparently." She pursed her lips, thinking. "Though I think I need to be touching whatever I want to alter. I'm not sure really, it's all very confusing." She paused. "Oddly, the revolver didn't burn me. I suppose that's because it was my own magic affecting it." She heaved a sigh. "But honestly, I'm just making vague assumptions."
"I'll have to be sure not to vex you then. I would hate to be on the receiving end of your…abilities."
Clara laughed at his teasing. "Wise decision," she joked.
Eric smiled, the weight of guilt on his shoulders lifting at the sound of Clara's laughter.
They were both painfully weary, to the point that even changing into night clothes seemed like an unattainable task. Clara managed to only strip down to her chemise before falling into an exhausted sleep beside Eric, who remained in his day trousers. They held each other close as they slept, grateful for each other's presence as the hours passed over their dreams.
/
The next morning, Tommy was greatly grieved to learn that Eric and Clara had decided they would return to Parthenia that afternoon.
"But you can't leave!" protested Tommy. "You've only just arrived."
"We cannot leave Vogt and his men here, in your grandfather's study of all places," Eric said grimly. "We must return them to Parthenia."
"But then you'll come straight back, won't you?" pleaded Tommy.
Eric gave Tommy a tired smile. "I wish it were that simple. There are many factors that go into world traveling, time shifting being the most prominent – and inconvenient."
Clara patted her brother. "We'll be back as soon as we can, Tommy. But this is important."
Tommy opened his mouth to argue further. But seeing the regret on both Clara and Eric's faces pacified him, and he nodded. "But you will come back soon?"
"As soon as possible," promised Eric. "After all, I do owe you a bag of candy."
"I won't forget that, you know," said Tommy, pointing a finger at Eric expectantly.
Eric laughed. "I'm counting on it."
Clara left a letter for her grandfather, blaming their departure on a family emergency involving a relative of Eric's. Then they departed, arriving back in Parthenia with little delay.
Once they returned to the castle, and the situation had been explained to Major Mint and Captain Candy, Eric lifted the enchantments from Vogt and his men. They were a little disoriented upon waking, but as far as Eric could tell, there were no serious effects from the spell. Satisfied, Eric left Vogt and his men in the castle dungeons, not wanting to linger in their presence for longer than necessary.
The trial took place the following week. It was decided that the traitors would be moved to a more isolated prison in southern Parthenia, where they would serve out their lifelong sentences.
In the days during and after the trial, Eric was noticeably tense with anxiety. Only when the prisoners had been taken from the castle grounds did he finally relax. Yet Clara still worried over Vogt's boasts that he had learned dark magic beyond Parthenia's borders. She spoke to Eric about it, but there was little they could do. Vogt had refused to reveal where his magic had come from, and they had no idea where Vogt had been during his exile. All they could do was keep a closer eye on Parthenia's borders, and have the soldiers stationed in towns near the borders listen for anything amiss. It wasn't the most satisfying solution, but it would have to suffice for now.
Three weeks after the trial, things seemed to be settling back into their normal routine. Feeling confident that enough time had passed since the trial for it to be appropriate, Clara convinced Eric to take a few days off to fulfill their promise to Tommy.
Tommy was overjoyed to see them appear on the Drosselmeyer house's front steps, and fiercely embraced them both in greeting. True to his word, Eric pulled out a bag of candies – all of which were specially made in Parthenia. Tommy's face lit up at the gift, and he excitedly sprung off in search of Walther to show him the odd-looking treats.
Herr Drosselmeyer was there to greet them too. He welcomed them in his usual gruff manner, but there was genuine concern in his tone as he asked after Eric's family. Eric warmly reassured the man that all as well, and the three of them fell into a pleasant conversation that lasted for most of the afternoon.
That evening, as supper was being prepared to be brought out, Eric pulled Clara into the study for a private moment to themselves.
"I hope you don't think I've forgotten about my promise I made to you last time we were here," said Eric.
"About your 'surprise'?" Clara smirked. "Actually, I had been wondering. I was beginning to feel a little jilted by you."
Eric chuckled. "My apologies, love. But I'm afraid that the surprise simply wouldn't have been possible in Parthenia."
"Oh?" asked Clara curiously. "And why is that?"
"Because the ballet performances in Parthenia are incredibly different than the ones here." Smiling, Eric pulled out two tickets from his jacket and handed them to Clara. "It seems like fortune is on our side, because the ballet I had wanted to take you to has a performance tonight."
Clara's eyes widened upon seeing what was printed on the tickets. "These are for a performance of Giselle." She looked up at him in shock. "How ever did you…"
"I gave Tommy a rather large financial incentive to run and buy them earlier today." Eric tapped the tickets, looking rather proud of himself. "I had noticed an advertisement for it when we had been here last month. Thankfully, we made it back just in time for the final weekend."
Clara ran her fingers over the tickets. The last time she had seen Giselle, her mother had been the one to take her. Now that she lived in Parthenia, she had begun to doubt she would ever get the opportunity to see it again. She had only talked about it once to Eric – during his curse. Yet he had remembered. Emotion swelled within her as she looked up at him. "Thank you, Eric," she whispered. "This is wonderful."
"I've already talked to your grandfather, so he's aware that we'll be spending the rest of the evening elsewhere after supper." He smiled humorously. "Though he did insist that we take the carriage."
"That doesn't surprise me," chuckled Clara. Gazing up at Eric with the utmost adoration, she pulled him into a kiss.
Eric heartily returned the kiss, laughing at the surprised sound Clara made when he lifted her off her feet. He gave her a gentle spin, then set her back on the ground. "I love you, Clara. Have I told you that?"
Clara grinned. "A few times. But you are always welcome to repeat it."
"Good." Eric pecked a quick kiss on her lips once more. "I love you."
"And I love you," Clara replied sincerely. She took his hand, squeezing it. "Shall we join Grandfather and Tommy? I'm afraid the food will go cold if we linger any longer."
"Now that would be a tragedy." Eric looped Clara's hand through his arm, leading her to the study's door. "Though I suppose we can always have some of Tommy's candy later if we're still hungry."
"I'm not sure he'll be willing to share."
"You're probably right. I'll have to remember to bring my own supply next time."
They laughed, joy lighting their faces as they made their way out of the study to join their waiting family.
