Clara watched Eric's face closely, searching for any lingering fatigue. Though Eric was abnormally quiet, he seemed alert, scanning the shadowed corners of the passage intently as they walked.

Sensing her gaze, he looked at her curiously.

Clara squeezed his hand. "Are you sure you're alright?"

A smile touched his lips. "Yes." His attention fell to her wrists, which were encased in the magic-suffocating handcuffs again. "Those aren't hurting you, are they? I know they aren't exactly made with comfort in mind."

"They do their job," said Clara simply.

Eric frowned at her avoidance of the question, but he knew there was little to be done about the cuffs.

Clara glanced over her shoulder. "What I don't understand is why Amaranth hasn't come for us. Destroying her cell roots was not a small performance of magic."

"I don't think she's here," said Eric. "I think she's out...hunting." He grimaced as he spoke the last word. "Otherwise I'm sure we would have seen her by now." He clenched his jaw, fury flashing over his face. "Another Parthenian murdered, because I hadn't made a more thorough plan before coming here. Some king I am."

"Stop, Eric," said Clara sternly. "You had no idea what you were going to face coming here. But you came anyway, to stop her before she killed who knows how many other innocents. If that isn't looking out for your people, I don't know what is."

Eric did not reply.

Clara sighed. "First things first: we need to find Rodolph and his men."

Eric's anger turned to discomfort, and he cast an apprehensive look Clara's way.

"What?" asked Clara.

Eric hesitated. "Rodolph's men didn't come with us."

Clara gaped at him. "It was just you and Rodolph?"

"Not exactly." Eric was quiet for a second. "Tommy came too."

"Tommy?" Alarm shot through Clara, and she yanked her hand from Eric's, spinning to face him fully. "Where did you meet Tommy?"

Eric rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "He was in Mapletown, working. I met him outside of an inn, and after I explained what I was doing there, he insisted on coming along."

"And you didn't try to dissuade him?" demanded Clara.

"He's an adult, Clara. He can make his own decisions."

"I don't care. Where is he now?" Clara looked up and down the passageway in a panic. "Is he alright? Eric, if he's hurt –"

Eric gripped Clara's arms, drawing her attention. "Clara, we'll find him," he said firmly. "I promise. I'm sorry I brought him along, but there's nothing to be done about that now. We'll find him, and we'll get him out. I swear."

Silence strung out between them, her anxiety mingling with his agitated guilt. Then she nodded. Eric tightened his hands on her arms briefly, reassuring her, and they continued walking down the tunnel.

"I'm not sure this is the best time to tell you," Clara said after a while. "But…Marie spoke with Vogt."

"What?" Now it was Eric who swiftly turned to face her. "When?"

Clara sighed. "She snuck down to the dungeons last night. To ask where you had gone."

"Why would she ask him?"

"Because my answer was too vague for her liking," said Clara irritably. "And she somehow got the idea into her head that he would be the best person to talk to instead. Even after I specifically forbade her from interacting with him."

"What did he tell her?" Eric asked, anger mingling into his frantic tone. "Is she alright?"

"Yes, yes, she's fine," assured Clara. "I don't think he told her much. We'll have to get more specifics from her when we get back." She shook her head. "But I thought you should at least know."

Eric let out a frustrated sigh, but he did not prod Clara further about the matter.

They soon came to a corner, and Eric held out his arm, stopping Clara. Keeping his hand at her waist, he peered cautiously down the new passageway. Hope shot through him at the sight, and he hurriedly pulled Clara around the corner.

Down the tunnel on the left was another cell entrance. Clara rushed ahead of Eric and, peering into the dimness, eagerly grasped the roots covering the cell's entrance. "Tommy!" she exclaimed.

Tommy jerked his head up from where he was sitting on the ground. "Clara?" He gaped at her in astonishment. "You...how did you get here?" He watched as Eric came into view, and happy relief flooded his expression. "Eric!" Pushing himself to his feet, he hurried to them. "You're alright!"

Eric smiled. "Only thanks to Clara."

Clara reached through the roots to grab her brother's hand. She frowned, examining the scratches on his cheek. "What happened?" Fury blazed in her eyes. "Did Amaranth do that to you?"

Tommy waved his hand. "I'm fine, Clara." He grimaced, glancing behind him. "Rodolph though..."

"Rodolph's with you?" said Eric urgently. He craned his neck to look past Tommy. But it was difficult to see through the mass of roots, and all that was visible in the low light was the outline of a figure lying on the floor of the cell. "How is he?"

"He..." Tommy tapped the roots nervously, unsure how to answer. "He's not good. I…I think he's dying."

Eric blanched at that. "Clara," he said desperately. "Clara, can you..." He glanced at the handcuffs on her wrists and paused, conflict sweeping through him.

But Clara didn't hesitate. She pulled away from Tommy and dug into her bag for the cuffs' key. "Step back, the both of you," she directed. "I need to concentrate."

Eric and Tommy did as asked, moving about an an arm's length away from the roots. Once Clara had removed the handcuffs and put them away, she took hold of the plants with both hands. Closing her eyes, she let out a low breath.

As she was more familiar with Amaranth's magic now, it did not take as much time to free the roots as it did with Eric's cell. The moment they fell away, Clara and Eric hurried forward. Clara embraced Tommy, pressing a kiss to his uninjured cheek. Eric though, after patting Tommy's arm, rushed past them to kneel beside Rodolph. Finally able to get a proper look at the man, Eric froze, staring in horror.

It looked like Rodolph had aged at least a decade. His skin was more weathered, and lined with wrinkles that settled deep into his face. His hair, having had only a few streaks of gray through its umber shade before, was now completely white. There was a sickly look to his body, like a man who had lost too much weight too fast.

Guilt churned Eric's stomach at the sight. This should have been me. He bowed his head, placing a hand on Rodolph's barely moving chest. "Rodolph," he whispered. "I'm so sorry, my friend." He felt a light touch on his shoulder, and looked up to see Clara kneel beside him.

She looked equally as shocked as him. Concern furrowed her brow as she bent close, brushing her hand against Rodolph's cheek. "He's ice cold."

Eric immediately ripped off the coat Clara had given him and laid it over Rodolph.

"I reckon it could be worse, compared to Amaranth's other victims" muttered Tommy, cringing at his weak attempt of reassurance. He knelt on Rodolph's other side. "But he hasn't woken once. And we've been here for hours."

Eric nodded. With regular magic users, their magic was so much a part of them that Amaranth's harvest left nothing behind but a shriveled husk. Yet neither Eric nor Rodolph possessed magic of their own; it was lingering fragments of old curses that resided within them. Therefore, even though the magic harvesting had done significant damage to Rodolph, it had been less severe. Eric supposed they should be grateful that Rodolph was even still alive at this point.

But currently, it was hard to feel anything beyond a tangled mess of remorse and fury.

"Can you..." Eric swallowed and looked at Clara. "If we manage to wake him, would one of those lemon drops help?"

"I'm not sure that will be enough," Clara admitted. She studied Rodolph, then pressed her lips together in determination. She waved at Eric, who obligingly moved back – though not much.

"Tommy, watch the tunnel," directed Eric.

Not taking her eyes off of Rodolph, Clara pulled her revolver free and held it out. "Here."

Tommy took the revolver and moved to the cell's entrance, where he stood guard.

Clara leaned forward and placed her hands on Rodolph's chest. She closed her eyes, setting her jaw in concentration.

A soft golden glow emanated from her palms. It spread outwards, pulsating with power as it seeped into Rodolph. Seconds turned into minutes, and Eric's eyes widened as he watched.

It was working. Whatever Clara was doing, it seemed to be...rejuvenating Rodolph? Healing him? Eric wasn't quite sure what to call it. But regardless, something was happening.

The wrinkles were lessening on Rodolph's face and hands. His skin was steadily losing its pallor, and his body began to regain some of its robustness.

Hope surged within Eric. A smile started to slip onto his lips, and he glanced at Clara. Then worry wiped away any budding joy. "Clara?"

Her eyes were still closed, but there was a definite weariness to her face. She was pale, and her breathing was somewhat labored, as though she had just run a great distance.

"Clara?" repeated Eric, wariness edging his tone.

Clara didn't seem to hear him.

Eric clutched Clara's arm. "Clara."

Tension pulsed through the air. Then Clara wrenched her hands away from Rodolph, gasping as her eyes snapped open. She rocked backwards, and Eric quickly looped his arm around her to hold her steady.

"Are you alright?" asked Eric.

"Yes," said Clara breathlessly. "Yes. I..." Her gaze flickered to Rodolph, then back to Eric. "That was much harder then opening the cells. I've never done anything like that before." She gave her head a slight shake and placed her hand on Eric's arm, pushing herself upright.

"Clara, slow down," said Eric. "Give yourself a moment."

Clara flashed him a weak smile. "I'm fine, Eric."

Tommy spared a quick glance at Rodolph. "What did you do, Clara?"

There were still some light wrinkles on Rodolph's face, and his hair remained stark white. But he no longer looked at old as he had, and his body had lost its frail appearance.

"I'm not sure how to explain it," said Clara. "I didn't try to replace the magic that Amaranth had taken, as it wasn't Rodolph's to begin with. But I tried to rebuild the..." She waved her hand as she attempted to find the right words. "The energy that had been stolen along with the magic." She frowned, dissatisfied with the result of her efforts. "I wish I could do more, but..." A sigh escaped her. "I can't exhaust myself if we're to get out of here."

"It's alright, Clara," assured Eric, his tone gentle.

"He's not in danger of dying anymore," Clara said. "Of that I'm sure."

Just then, Rodolph's brows twitched. He shifted, a low groan rumbling in his throat.

Eric leaned forward anxiously. "Rodolph?"

Slowly, Rodolph's eyes fluttered open.

Clara pulled away from Eric and shifted back, allowing him to move closer. Eric reached out and placed a hand on Rodolph's shoulder. "Rodolph, can you hear me?"

Rodolph's gaze drifted about hazily before finally locking onto Eric's. Recognition flickered in Rodolph's eyes, followed by faint relief. "You're alright," he murmured.

Eric gave a shaky laugh. "Stop worrying about me for one second, Rodolph. Yes, I'm fine – because of you." He tightened his hand on Rodolph. "You shouldn't have done that. But...thank you."

The hint of a smile touched the corner of Rodolph's lips. Then the expression faded, replaced by one of worry. "Where's Thomas?" The question was little more than a tired whisper.

"He's here," said Eric. "He's fine."

"And the witch?"

"We don't know where she is," answered Clara. "But she won't be gone forever. We need to get moving."

Rodolph shifted his focus from Eric to Clara, only now just noticing her in his dazed state. Shock flared in his eyes as he stared at her. "Your Majesty...what...how..." But exhaustion stole the words from him, and they trailed off into the damp air.

Clara gave him a soft smile. She reached into her bag and pulled out a lemon drop. "Here. This will help." With how much effort it was taking for Rodolph to simply keep his eyes open, she knew he wouldn't be able to lift his hand to hers. So she put the candy in his mouth herself.

As with Eric, the candy worked quickly on Rodolph. By the time he had finished chewing, he seemed much more coherent. Yet he was not as revitalized as Eric had been, as there had been more damage done to Rodolph's body.

"Come on," Eric said. He slung Rodolph's arm over his shoulders, pulling the older man to his feet. Clara helped Rodolph put on the coat she had brought, and the three of them made their way to the cell entrance.

"It's clear," said Tommy. He gestured at them, and they stepped into the passageway. Tommy frowned, adjusting his grip on Clara's revolver. "Which way?"

Clara narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing both ends of the passage. Then she waved them in the opposite direction she and Eric had come from.

Tommy and Eric glanced at each other. Eric shrugged, and they started after Clara.

"I have not sensed such a presence in...many centuries."

The group froze at the raspy voice. Together, they spun around.

Amaranth stood there, her hand raised. Beside her hovered a root that had unwound from the wall, waiting for her command. There was a hint of anger in Amaranth's expression, but it was overridden by the blatant hunger in her eyes as she stared at Clara.

Still supporting Rodolph, Eric immediately stepped in front of his wife.

Amaranth chuckled. "You are in no condition to match with me, little king. But had I known your presence would bring this kind of power here, I would have had less qualms with keeping you alive." She turned her attention back to Clara, her eyes ravenous as she studied the queen. "That is a very unique power you possess, Your Majesty." Her tongue flitted over her bottom lip. "It's be so long since I've even smelled such a magic." She ambled forward a step.

Eric tore the knife from Clara's belt and held it out. At the same moment, Tommy swung Clara's revolver up to level it with Amaranth's head.

"I will kill you if you touch her," said Eric darkly.

Amaranth let out a creaking laugh. "Was that not your plan when you initially came here? How does my taking her change anything?"

Eric's knuckles whitened from the ferocity of his grip on the knife. "Call it additional incentive to do the job properly this time."

The amusement in Amaranth's eyes did not wane. She smirked and thrust her hand forward, sending the root flying towards them.

Clara shoved Eric aside and threw up her hand. Amaranth's root soared across the tunnel – only to still the moment it touched Clara's palm. Stunned, everyone stopped, staring at the frozen plant.

Then pink flowers began sprouting along it. No one moved, watching in amazement as the flowers blossomed along the root in Amaranth's direction. Where the flowers bloomed, rich green vines spiraled outwards, creating a spiderweb of the plants that stretched from wall to wall of the passageway.

"What the..." began Tommy.

Eric turned, yanking Rodolph away from the roots. "Move!"

Tommy grabbed Clara and wrenched her down the passageway. Eric and Rodolph followed, with Rodolph leaning heavily against Eric as they stumbled over the uneven ground. Tommy took the lead and Clara followed closely, glancing back every few steps to be sure that Eric and Rodolph were behind her.

Distantly, they could hear the sounds of the flowering roots decaying beneath Amaranth's wrath as she fought her way through Clara's wall.

"We need the scepter," said Eric, the words breathless as he struggled to keep Rodolph upright.

"Where would she have put it?" asked Clara.

Eric shook his head in uncertainty.

"I wonder if our weapons are with it," Tommy grumbled. He glanced down at Clara's revolver. "Otherwise we've only got seven chances to hit her."

Clara made a sound of annoyance. "I brought extra bullets, Tommy."

"Iron ones?" Tommy pressed.

"Yes, of course," snapped Clara.

The ground rumbled beneath them. Roots burst through the floor, snapping at their feet. Clara kicked one away from Tommy's heel, barely avoiding another that whipped at her boot.

Eric pointed to a bend in the tunnel on their right. "Turn there!"

His companions did as directed, and the four of them sprinted into a large room. As she passed through the room's entrance, Clara brushed her hand against a root sticking out of the archway. Immediately, the root expanded outwards, covering the doorway in a protective blanket of green plants.

The cave looked like it was meant to be a trophy room of sorts, but it was far too messy to earn the name. Dozens of trinkets had been piled together haphazardly: shoes, knifes, swords, even horse saddles. From the roots lining the walls hung cloaks, jewelry, and other keepsakes. Some of the items looked to be in fairly good condition; others appeared to have been left there for decades, worn and rusted from the passing years.

The four halted, staring at their surroundings.

"Are these..." Clara began, horror coursing through her.

"Items she collected from her victims?" Eric said grimly. "I would assume so."

"Hey!" Tommy exclaimed. He rushed to a nearby corner of the room, where his, Eric's, and Rodolph's revolvers had been tossed. Not far from them were their swords. Grinning broadly, Tommy hastily buckled his hostler belt back around his waist. He gathered up the other weapons and brought them back to the group.

"I can stand," Rodolph muttered to Eric. "You need to re-arm yourself."

Eric hesitated, then carefully released his grip. Rodolph swayed, but Clara held out her hand, allowing Rodolph to use it to find his balance.

"We have to hurry," urged Clara to Eric.

Eric nodded and secured his own holster back in place, scanning the room as he did so. Then he bolted forward, running to a junk pile on the opposite wall.

Thrown atop a mound of horse bridles was the scepter. Eric snatched it up, gripping it with both hands as a relieved breath escaped him.

Tommy frowned in bewilderment. "Why would she toss it aside like that, when she wanted it so badly?"

Eric shrugged. "I don't think neatness is something she bothers with. She got it – that's what mattered to her."

The wall of vines Clara had made shuddered as something heavy slammed into it. The ground shook beneath the weight of the attack, and Rodolph staggered, his legs shaking violently. But Tommy caught the man before he could fall, slinging Rodolph's arm over his shoulders as Eric had done.

Eric moved to Clara's side. He aimed the scepter at the vines, and Clara, having regained her weapon from Tommy, raised her revolver.

There came the crackling sound of plants being rotted away. A dark brown spot festered in the center of the vine wall, spreading outwards rapidly.

"Do we have a plan?" Tommy said, aiming his revolver at the contaminated plants.

Clara glanced at Eric.

"Hopefully the iron bullets will slow her down," said Eric. "We need to get her back to the first room we met her in. I can transfer her magic into the tree there."

"What tree?" asked Clara.

Before anyone could answer her, a gush of magic burned through the vines. The now-rotten plants fell away, crumpling to the ground to reveal Amaranth. Her hand was outstretched – and aimed directly at Clara.