"My, this is a surprise." Vogt straightened, a mocking smile on his lips.

Clara knew that they were in no danger from Vogt here. The prison had enchantments on it that rendered anyone inside its grounds unable to use magic. Even Clara was not exempt from it. She could feel its effects as she stood there – a slight pressure that was just barely noticeable. A shadow of fatigue that made her body feel faintly heavier than normal as it stifled her magic.

Yet the knowledge that Vogt could not harm them did little to ease her mind in his presence.

Years in the prison had not been kind to Vogt. The handsomeness of his features had faded beneath the prison's grim atmosphere, hardened and coarse from the labor prisoners were expected to undertake. His hair, greasy and long enough to brush his shoulders, had been pulled back and tied in what might have been an attempt of cleanliness on Vogt's part. The dreary olive-gray color scheme of the prison clothes gave Vogt a sickly pallor to his skin, making him look ghostly in the cell light.

Yet despite his bedraggled appearance, Vogt still managed to carry himself with the arrogant dignity he had maintained since serving beneath Eric's father. Smirking, Vogt eyed Clara. "All these years later, and you still look as beautiful as ever, my queen. You are quite the sight for sore eyes."

Eric tightened his jaw. "Be careful, Vogt," he warned. "Remember that you are here, and not on the executioner's block, because of me."

Vogt chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I am meant to find comfort in that." He smiled brightly at Eric, as if they were old friends merely catching up. "I've heard news that there is a princess gracing the castle halls now. How magnificent! Little Marie is the child's name, is it not?"

Clara felt Eric tense beside her. She glared at Vogt, fury shooting through her at hearing him speak their daughter's name.

Vogt glanced innocently between the two of them. "Which parent does she favor in terms of appearance? I do hope it's the mother. Is there any possibility of my meeting her?"

"There is as much a chance of you meeting her as there is of you ever being a free man again," snapped Clara. "Enough with your false pleasantries, Vogt. We are not here to indulge your thirst for companionship; we are here on business."

Vogt gave another chuckle. "Of course, Your Majesty. Do forgive my audacious inquiries. How may I be of assistance?"

Eric exchanged a glance with Clara before answering. "There have been attacks along the southern border," said Eric grimly. "Four victims have been found, though there may be more that we don't know about."

"And why should that concern me?" asked Vogt, sounding bored.

"The bodies were...drained. Dried up." Eric paused, distrust in his eyes as he studied Vogt. "Someone had stolen their magic. All of it."

"Ah. Now that is intriguing." Vogt gestured at Eric. "And you came to me because you have no idea who it could be?" He let out a short laugh. "Why should I possess such information?"

"You were exiled to the lands south of Parthenia," said Clara. "You know the region, you know the people there. Surely you have some idea of who this could be."

"No." Vogt shook his head. "That's not what you came to me for. You came because you think I personally know the person responsible for this." He gave Clara an amused look. "You think I may have learned how to use my magic from them."

"Did you?" Clara asked sharply.

Vogt merely smiled.

"Why do you insist on keeping this information secret?" Eric said, annoyed. "Doing so will help you achieve nothing now. Are you afraid of what may happen if whoever taught you finds out you've spoken to us?"

"If I were, I would be right to," scoffed Vogt. "Betraying her is not something done lightly."

"Betrayal was never difficult for you before," commented Eric.

Vogt threw Eric a scathing look. "If done for the right price, betrayal is always something worth contemplating. Loyalty based on nothing but trust and honor is something that can be too easily broken. Incentive that guarantees a profit is what drives the will of men."

"You hold a very unfortunate view of the world," Clara said.

Vogt shrugged. "I'm a practical man, not a dreamer."

Eric made a sound of disgust. "Very well then." He gestured to the cell bars. "Here's your incentive: getting out of this prison."

Genuine surprise flashed over Vogt's face.

"Mind you, I do not mean to free you," Eric continued. "But if you cooperate, we can arrange to make you far more comfortable then you'd ever be here. You'll be taken to an isolated estate at the edge of Parthenia's borders – void of magic, of course. There, you'll be allowed to roam the grounds and house. You cannot leave the estate, but you will be permitted supervised monthly visits from friends or family who may wish to see you. Naturally, there will be permanent guards there to ensure you adhere to these guidelines." He gave Vogt a firm look. "That is our offer."

"My, that does sound rather wonderful, doesn't it?" Vogt tapped his chin. "What exactly do you want to know about your potential suspect?"

"Everything," said Eric. "What they are, their name, location, the type of magic they possess, and why they are doing this."

Vogt snorted. "That is quite a bit of information."

"Giving you a private estate after you tried to murder the king of Parthenia is quite the reward," said Clara coldly.

"Yes, well, I suppose I could have been a bit less sloppy about that. Then we wouldn't be having this conversation in such an unfortunate setting." Vogt glanced around his cell disdainfully. "My mistake, though." His gaze traveled back to Eric and Clara. "As tempting as your offer is, it still isn't quite enough. She is far more powerful than either of you realize; I would be a fool to not guarantee my own safety before divulging any of her secrets to you."

"What more could you possibly want that we would be willing to give you?" said Clara.

"I want to be taken back to the castle," answered Voft. "Until all of this unpleasant business is done." He waved his hand at their surroundings. "This place is far closer to the southern borders than the castle, a fact that makes me rather uncomfortable if I am to give out such delicate information. I want the protection that the castle provides."

"Fine," said Eric irritably. "You'll be taken there until we can move you to the estate."

"And –" Vogt held up his finger. "While I'm at the castle...I want to meet your daughter."

"No." Clara's response was immediate, the single word burning in its ferocity.

Vogt laughed. "Why not? I assure you, I mean the child no harm. I am merely curious."

Eric clenched his fists at his sides. "You will be given the castle's protection. But you will not meet our daughter."

"Why deny such a simple request?" asked Vogt in amusement. "You act as though you have other options beyond speaking to me. I have the information you want."

"You forget your place, Vogt," snapped Eric. "If you will not cooperate, we will find our answers elsewhere. Yes, it may take longer, but it will be done. Now – will you accept our offer, or not?"

Vogt rubbed the uneven beard shadowing his face, his expression thoughtful. He sighed. "Very well. I accept." He lowered his hand. "The creature you're looking for – her name is Amaranth."

"Amaranth?" repeated Clara. "Who is she?"

"A witch," said Vogt. "A rather old one, actually."

"A witch?" Eric frowned. "Witches don't have enough power to perform such acts."

"She's not a regular witch. She's a maceri witch."

Clara narrowed her eyes. "I've never heard of them before."

"Not many people have," said Vogt. "They are a rather rare sort of breed."

"What differentiates them from regular witches, then?" asked Eric.

"Regular witches get their magic from nature," explained Vogt. "The trees, crops, rivers, even the weather. They harvest it, like a bee drawing out nectar, to use as their magic's source. Maceri witches, though, get their magic from other living beings." Vogt smiled at Clara. "Aren't you fortunate, Your Majesty, that your magic does not require such tedious tasks."

"We're not here to discuss Clara," said Eric in warning. "Stay on topic, Vogt."

Vogt shrugged. "Well, as for maceri witches, their harvesting only needs to be done every decade or so. They can store up their magic for an impressive amount of time." He gave Eric a smug look. "As long as they harvest enough of it. And I can promise you, four victims is not enough."

"How do you know Amaranth is the witch we're looking for?" questioned Clara.

"Because maceri witches are very scarce," replied Vogt. "They don't like being near each other, and they don't often move around. The southern border is Amaranth's territory."

"And that's where you met her," Eric said.

"Yes."

"She doesn't sound like someone who would waste her time teaching an exiled lord magic," said Clara suspiciously. "Why would she bother with you?"

Vogt gave Clara a coy look. "I can be very persuasive." He smiled, though it was an unnerving expression in the shadows of his cell. "I also assisted in finding her magical beings to use, as my exile had been during her last harvest. That seemed to satisfy her enough to teach me some basic skills."

Clara and Eric stared at Vogt in horror.

"You helped her obtain victims?" Clara drew back, disgusted by this new confession.

Vogt simply laughed. "Oh, come now, Your Majesties, is that so surprising? I am already serving a life sentence, so I'm not sure what else you can do to remedy my past crimes."

"We can give you to Amaranth," growled Eric. "I wonder how merciful she'll be, once she knows what you've told us."

Alarm flickered through Vogt's eyes at that threat.

Clara rested her hand on Eric's arm. "We will look further into these claims of yours, Vogt," she said, her revulsion for Vogt clear in her tone. "But for now, tell us where Amaranth is."

"Well now, see I'm not sure you two would know how to get there," said Vogt. "You royals rarely bother going beyond Parthenia's borders. Such trips are far beneath you, I'm sure."

Eric dipped his hand into his jacket. He pulled out a folded sheet of parchment, and opened it to reveal a map of Parthenia. It was rather extensive, illustrating at least a day's travel worth of lands beyond the kingdom on all sides. "Here," said Eric. "Mark it for us. Despite how ignorant we royals are, I'm sure we'll manage somehow."

Vogt frowned at Eric's sarcasm. He watched intently as Eric reached through the cell bars, extending the map towards him.

Fear rose in Clara's throat as Eric's hand passed through the bars. He was too close to Vogt. Far too close. She opened her mouth to say his name, call him back, stop him…

Vogt's gaze lingered on Eric's outstretched hand for a fleeting moment. Then he snatched the map from Eric and walked over to the table in his cell.

Clara exhaled a low sigh of relief. Eric glanced at her questioningly, but she shook her head.

Bending over the tale, Vogt scribbled hastily on the map. Then he went back to the cell door and thrust it forward. "Here," he muttered.

Eric took the map. He held it out before him and Clara, tilting it towards the torchlight as they studied the markings Vogt had made.

"She's only about a day's journey south of Mapletown," mused Eric.

Mapletown was one of the most southern towns in Parthenia. It rested just on the border, and was about a two-day trip from the prison. Eric moved his finger along the road leading away from the town, pausing at the circle drawn around the northern entrance to a ravine called Raven's Pass.

"Altogether, that's another three days of travel from here," said Clara dismally.

"Why is Amaranth being so careless now?" asked Eric, looking back up at Vogt. "We've never seen signs of her before, and my father certainly never dealt with a maceri witch."

Vogt gave a shrug. "She's old – ancient, really. Probably nearing five hundred years by now. It is likely that age or pride has made her no longer bother with remaining discrete. Which can be either a very good, or very bad, thing for you."

Clara frowned. "How do we stop her?"

"Now that would be a useful piece of information, wouldn't it?" Vogt asked humorously. "Unfortunately, she neglected to tell me that."

Eric handed the map to Clara and stepped closer to the cell door. "Is that the truth, Vogt? Or are you refusing to tell us in hopes of getting us killed?"

"It is the truth," said Vogt. He smirked. "Though I do like the potential of that second idea."

Eric thrust his hand through the bars, grabbing a handful of Vogt's shirt to pull him close. "Innocent people are dying, Vogt," he snarled. "And now you make light of putting my men and wife in danger? If there is anything else you know of Amaranth, it is in your best interests to tell us now. For if Clara is harmed, our deal is off. You go back to this cell, and I'll personally bury the key." He gave Vogt a harsh shove, sending him staggering backwards. Abhorrence in his eyes, Eric returned to Clara's side.

Clara reassuringly brushed her hand against Eric's arm, careful to keep the action hidden from Vogt's view.

Vogt stumbled into his cell's chair. He grabbed at it to regain his balance, chuckling as he turned back to face Eric and Clara. "Well now, that wasn't very fitting of a king." He straightened, brushing his shirt off. "I assure you, Your Majesty, that I have told you all that I know about Amaranth. Her destruction is in your hands now; I am not responsible for anything that may happen from you hunting her down."

Silence stretched between them. Eric scrutinized Vogt closely, searching his face for any hint of deception. Finally, Eric turned away from Vogt. Clara did the same, and together they walked back down the corridor.

"Our deal?" Vogt called after them.

"We'll be back in the morning for you," Eric said, not bothering to turn around. He and Clara rounded the corner of the corridor, both eager to be free of the suffocating prison.

They were escorted back to their waiting horses and off of the prison grounds without delay. Rodolph and his men met them at the prison gates, and together the group made their way to the inn.

The innkeeper received the king and queen of Parthenia with flustered excitement when they arrived. Despite Eric and Clara's insistence on having a regular room, the innkeeper would have none of it, and put them in the largest one she had. Yet to their gratitude, the innkeeper was careful not to hover over them. Once she had made sure that they were comfortable, she left them in peace.

Clara sighed in relief as she settled onto the bed in her and Eric's room, patting her wet hair with a towel. She had just finished taking a bath, and the feeling of ridding herself of the road's dirt and dust was heavenly after such a long day.

A faint scent of ginger and maple blanketed the room, and Clara studied her surroundings curiously. On the fireplace mantle a glass bowl had been filled with various cookies and sweets, and Clara wondered if they were the source of the intoxicating aroma. Or perhaps the room itself had been charmed to emit the scent. Regardless, the comfort it provided was something Clara was vastly grateful for, after the confrontation at the prison.

While she had been washing, Eric had gone downstairs to talk with Rodolph. But that had been some time ago. She frowned, wondering what was keeping him.

Clara glanced up at the sound of the room's door opening. Eric stood there, an uncomfortable look on his face. In his hands was the map, which he turned over in a nervous manner.

Clara paused. "Eric, what's wrong?"

Eric stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Clara, I..." The words trailed off, and he shook his head. He tapped the map against his palm in agitation, conflict burning in his eyes.

Clara set aside the towel. "Eric, what is it?"

Eric's gaze locked onto hers with an unexpected intensity. He stilled his movements with the map, lowering his hands to his sides. "Clara..." He heaved a sigh. "I've been thinking. About everything. The bodies that were found, what Vogt told us about Amaranth...how we still have no idea what it will take to stop her. We're going into this mostly blind. But we do know the kinds of victims Amaranth takes: those who posses magic. And..." He hesitated. "I want you to bring Vogt back to the castle. Without me."

Clara blinked at Eric. "What?"

"Candy will go with you. We'll have some guards from the prison accompany you both, so you won't have any problems handling Vogt."

"I don't care about Vogt," said Clara. She stood, alarm in her eyes. "What about you?"

Eric grimaced. "I'm taking Rodolph and his men, and we're going to go after Amaranth. I've already talked with Rodolph, and we're leaving in the morning."

Clara gaped at him. "I'm sorry, and who are you to make that decision without me?" Anger coursed through her shock, drenching her words in a stony coldness. "I'm going with you."

"No, you aren't, Clara."

Clara raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

Eric tossed the map onto a chair near the door. "You aren't coming. Not when you are exactly what Amaranth is looking for in her victims."

"That's why? You think I'm too much of a liability?"

Eric cringed. "That's not what I meant. I –"

"You are not leaving me behind, Eric."

"Clara, I appreciate your fervor in wanting to help, I really do. But you cannot come," Eric said firmly.

"I can take care of myself," Clara snapped.

"I know you can. But Amaranth is draining people of their magical energy. Sapping them of every once of it until there is nothing left but a shell." He set his jaw. "There is no chance I would ever let you go near her. Your magic is legendary, Clara – it is exactly what she would want. And she will take it. Every last bit of it." His voice was tight with tension. "I won't be responsible for that."

"Do you have so little faith in my ability to protect myself?" asked Clara. She waved her hand at his traveling bag, where the scepter was hidden. "And what about you? You are the only one who can properly control the scepter."

"It's a magical object I use. I don't have magic in me. It's completely different."

"Surely that requires some magic. The scepter is too powerful for any non-magical person to use."

Eric sighed. "If there is magic in my bloodline, it would be very minimal. There is likely only just enough to link me to the scepter, and that's it. It is hardly enough to draw Amaranth's attention."

"Well isn't that convenient for you," scoffed Clara. She gritted her teeth. "You cannot leave me behind, Eric. I won't let you go by yourself."

"I won't be by myself. I'll be with Rodolph and other non-magical soldiers."

"How do we know she can even steal my magic?" said Clara, her face brightening by this new possibility. "Theda's spell did not work on me; my magic protected me then."

Eric grimaced at the mention of Theda. "Yes, your magic protected you then. But I doubt Theda's abilities were anywhere near as powerful as Amaranth's. Clara, we have no idea what we are up against."

"Exactly," said Clara fiercely. "Which is why we need to go back to the castle, together, and come up with a real plan before charging after her."

Eric shook his head. "We can't."

"What do you mean, we can't?" demanded Clara. "Are you simply going to take the scepter and your four men, and hope for the best? Don't be foolish, Eric."

"Clara, I don't have time to travel back home." Agitated, Eric ran a hand through his hair. "While I was downstairs with Rodolph, I received a message from from the castle."

Surprise broke through Clara's vexation. "You did?"

Eric nodded. "It was from one of Elizabeth's owls."

Clara had been wondering if they would receive any messages from her aunt. Elizabeth's message-carrying owls were extremely fast – enhanced by magic, of course. Having one arrive here was not surprising, though it was worrying. Knowing how occupied Eric and Clara already were, Elizabeth would only send them something if it was of great importance.

"A fifth body was found yesterday," said Eric.

Clara stared at him. "So soon after the others? But we had weeks in-between the first ones and the more recent ones."

"Well, it seems that Amaranth is becoming more active," said Eric. He sighed in frustration. "Traveling back to the castle would take another three days. And even if we make a straight shot from the castle to Mapletown, it's still a four day journey. We don't have that kind of time, Clara. I have to go directly to Mapletown from here, before Amaranth kills someone else."

"Then I'm going with you."

"No, Clara, you aren't."

"You cannot leave me behind!" cried Clara. "You may not possess magic, but she could still kill you, Eric."

"And if she kills both of us, then what?" demanded Eric. "You would orphan Marie? Leave her to grow up without either of her parents?"

Fury blazed through Clara – and terror of how openly Eric spoke of their possible deaths. "And if she grows up knowing her mother did nothing to protect her father? What then?" Her rising voice trembled as she spoke. "What then?"

Guilt flickered over Eric's face. "I refuse to take you anywhere near Amaranth, knowing what she could do to you. Please, Clara, see reason."

"Reason has long fled your mind, if you think this is a wise plan," Clara retorted. "Don't you see how foolhardy this is? We work better together, Eric. You protect me, and I protect you. Isn't that what we promised each other?"

Eric glanced away, his expression pained. "I will not risk your safety, Clara. Not when you are exactly what she wants."

"You speak of me as though I'm nothing more than a prize," Clara said in disgust.

Eric looked back at her. "That's exactly what you are to her. The moment she realizes who you are, what you are, you will be her sole focus." His voice was strained. "And I don't know if I can protect you, Clara. I wish I could guarantee your safety, but I can't." A look of the utmost desperation settled over his face. "Please, Clara."

Unable to match gazes with him, Clara turned away, tears in her eyes. She shook her head, though she wasn't sure what she was objecting to – Eric's pleading, the impossibility of his absurd plan, or the overall horribleness of the situation.

Eric approached her cautiously. He stopped before her, but kept his hands at his sides. "Clara, I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know you don't like this. I just..." He sighed, unable to find the correct words. "I cannot bear the thought of Amaranth doing to you what she's done to others. You must understand why I cannot let you come." He held his hand out imploringly. "Please, Clara – I'm doing this because I love you."

Clara was quiet, absorbing his words as she contemplated their options. Finally her shoulders drooped in dejection. "Eric," she murmured. "I know you are worried for me. I understand why. But if you get hurt, and I could have done something to prevent that..."

Eric reached for her. When Clara did not pull away, he cupped her face. "I promise to be careful," he said. "I won't do anything 'stupid or reckless.'" He smiled sadly. "Isn't that what you asked of me before I confronted the Mouse King?"

Clara made a sound that was both a laugh and a sob. "Yes, and you didn't listen." She covered his hands with her own. "I'll return to the castle," she whispered. "To watch over Marie. I don't feel that any place is safe for her right now, with Vogt going there and Amaranth roaming Parthenia." She tightened her grip. "But you must come back to us, Eric. You must."

"I will." But the promise sounded unsure – a weak hope that both of them knew he had no real control over keeping.

Tears freely flowed from Clara's eyes now. She placed her hands on Eric's neck, pulling him into a fervent kiss. Eric wrapped his arms around her, his hands tangling in her hair as he embraced her. The smell of soap on her skin mingled with the scent of dust and pine covering Eric, who had yet to wash off after traveling. It was a comforting earthy smell, and she drew him closer, breathing it in.

She needed to be with him, now more than ever. Somehow, Eric's decision to leave seemed more final than any other parting they had gone through. She felt as though the strands of time had finally run out beneath them, and try as she might, she had been unable to grasp them and hold on.

Don't go. Don't leave me behind. Come back with me. The pleas thundered in her head as she slipped her hands beneath his shirt where it had come untucked, feeling the heat of his body beneath her trembling palms. But she did not voice them. She couldn't.

Eric emitted a groan, though it sounded more like an expression of misery over the ultimatum they were faced with, rather than merely from a physical sensation. He bent and scooped her up in his arms, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. "I'm here," he breathed. "I'm here now. I'll come back. I promise."

Clara closed her eyes against the desperate vow. She turned and kissed his neck, sinking her hands into his hair.

Yes, he was here now. But tomorrow, he would be gone.

And so would she.