Demona crept around Oberon's palace, utterly confused by her own determination to find that which only haunted and distressed her. She quickly found herself in an open corridor, overlooking the great hall, which was empty or at least appeared so to her eyes. She continued along the corridor, trying doors as she went, but finding none that would open to her, even if she used all of her strength. Somehow, she knew that those doors weren't meant for her that night, and continued toward the corner ahead of her, which tempted her with an open door that led to a staircase. Certain this would lead her to her objective, she raced ahead, only to find the way blocked by the Guardian.

She knew him at once, by Angela's descriptions. He was dressed as if for battle. His helmet was decorated with the face of a gargoyle, but his own face bore an expression that indicated that he was just as determined to detain her as she was to pass. He carried a large lantern, which he hung on the wall before addressing her.

"Everyone is looking for you," he informed her sternly as he examined her in the dim light of the lantern.

"They won't find me in time," she replied, "At least that's what I've been told."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked in a tone that was too agitated to mean genuine curiosity but not passionate enough to be a proper accusation either. She suspected he was trying to detain and distract her.

"I suppose you shall have to see. Let me pass."

The Guardian took a defensive stance, but did not draw his sword.

"There is nothing for you up there," he informed her with an attitude that she found patronizing. "I'm told that you seek a magical stone. There's no such thing in this tower, nor will you find the magical creature you seek."

"I will pass. Stand aside," she ordered.

"There is no reason that we should be enemies," he argued, almost pleadingly, But she replied with a wicked and dangerous laugh.

"I have warned you."

As she sprang at him, he drew his sword at last, and slashed at her as she attacked. The sword hit her on her arm, just below the shoulder, and drew a gush of blood, but she hardly seemed to notice as she took him by the armor and tossed him down the stairwell. The sword fell from his hand as he landed, but he rolled quickly and retrieved it, now meaning to go on the offense. He charged up the stairs after her, swinging again, but she dodged the blade this time, pulling him toward her and saying in a menacing voice, "Foolish human! Do you want me to kill you?"

"If I must lose my life, defending the ones I love, so be it," he replied bravely, though he could not hide his fear completely.

"You are a very fortunate man," she hissed at him, "In that I love my daughter enough to spare you for her sake. But there are limits to my patience!"

With that she threw him down the stairs again, but only managed to advance a few steps before he was coming at her again with his sword drawn. She caught his arm this time, wrenching it until he was forced to drop the sword, then lifted him by the one arm and carried him up the remaining few stairs to a landing that opened to a large, ornately carved door and an archway with open double doors that led onto the walkway atop the curtain wall. There she released him, shoving him violently into the stone wall and knocking the breath out of him. She began to open the carved door, but he would not relent and charging again, he attempted to hold her back.

As she tossed him yet again, she heard the voice of Goliath calling her name, and she looked out along the battlement where he, Lexington, and the two others were running toward them. The Guardian groaned as he awkwardly got to his feet, and instinctively, she grabbed the shoulder of his armor, to keep him from causing her any more grief. The four gargoyles came to a halt under the archway when they saw she held the injured Guardian captive. The three young ones stared at her in various combinations of scandal and rage.

"Adelpha?" Goliath asked in a voice that struggled to remain calm, "What are you doing?"

She drew her breath sharply, as if to reply, but her eyes widened and she choked on her words. She couldn't answer if she wanted to, she realized, because she didn't really know. She hadn't known what she was doing since she'd arrived on Avalon.

"Release him," he ordered firmly.

"Take him then!" she retorted as she callously pushed her captive toward them, "I certainly don't want him!"

Gabriel and Ophelia raced forward to meet their adoptive father on either side, eyeing Demona with suspicion and anger as they protectively guided him away from her. Their looks of repulsion toward her made her heart ache and she quickly returned her gaze to Goliath who beckoned to her with his arms open, as if he was preparing to catch her if she ran his way.

"Come to me," he ordered firmly, and for a moment she considered doing just that. She silently wondered if he could possibly know how she longed to bury herself under his wings. Even if it meant a scolding, a beating, or eternal imprisonment, she would have accepted any fate to which he would assign her, if only he would lead her away from where she stood.

Instead, she replied, "I cannot. Lady Titania told me I couldn't see you until the trial was over."

"Then see to your trial and leave these innocent people alone!" he demanded, becoming more emotional.

"Innocent?" she repeated coldly, shaking her head at him as if what he'd said was incomprehensible to her, "How can you say that? After they imprisoned you in stone? After they've stolen our clan's children!"

"No!" Goliath shouted, "That is not what happened! I begged the Magus to cast his spell on me. I had failed everyone I loved, and the only way I could see forward was to join them in death."

"You asked him to place the spell on you?" she repeated in disbelief.

"I was wrong," he continued sorrowfully, "Death is never the answer! But I was alone and the grief was so unbearable. I felt there was nothing left of me. So I asked the princess to care for and protect our children. And she's done just as she promised. I tell you, she is innocent! Can't you understand that?"

Demona backed away from him slowly, still horrified at the realization of what he had done and the pain she had caused him. Bewildered, she turned quickly and raced through the open doorway. She could hear them rushing to follow her, but the door suddenly slammed shut, barring their way. She slowed and hesitated for a moment, wondering how and why the door had closed. She could hear Goliath's anxious voice bellowing on the other side, but it seemed very far away somehow, and though the simple wooden door didn't seem to have even a basic keyed lock on it, it miraculously withstood all of the force of Goliath's strength. It was strange and a bit unnerving that the palace itself seemed to be interfering in her business. She hurried down the corridor, wondering whose command the door obeyed, and whether they were for her or against her.

On the other side of the door, the Guardian and the four gargoyles had found themselves trapped within the tower, as all three doors had closed on them at once.

"What magic is this?" Goliath cried in disdain as he pounded the door.

"It must be magic!" Lexington exclaimed as he desperately tried to pry the pin out of the hinges, to no avail, "She's got us trapped!"

"But mortal magic isn't allowed on Avalon," Ophelia reminded them, "How do you suppose she did it?"

"What does it matter?" Goliath asked her, "We've got to stop her!" Anxiously, they looked about the interior of the tower for a solution, but aside from the three doors and a couple of sconces on the wall, one of which held the flickering lantern, the tower room was bare. Then Lexington caught sight of a tall, but narrow window, high above their heads. By day, it probably gave some light to the room, but by night, it was hardly noticeable.

"I can fit through here," Lexington announced after climbing the stone wall and opening the panel. He squeezed his way through the narrow opening, as Goliath leaped up the wall and attempted to break the stone away to increase the size of the opening. To his dismay, the stone would not give, even to his great strength.

"What has she done?" Goliath asked his friend in dismay, "What is she going to do?"

"Don't worry," Lexington assured him suddenly, "I can stop her alone."

Goliath's eyes widened questioningly.

"Don't worry," Lexington repeated with even more confidence, "I know what to do."

Meanwhile, Demona crept through the corridor and into the princess' chambers. The room was surprisingly humble considering its location in such a grand castle, far more so than her quarters had been in Castle Wythern. The furniture was simple, clean, and functional, not unlike what one would expect in an abbey. Appropriately, the only aspect of the room that was well-adorned was a personal altar in the corner, where the princess now knelt, reverently reading aloud from the book of Micah.

"What shall I offer to the Lord that is worthy?" she muttered softly, her eyes closed in prayer and her hand resting on the page, as if she could feel the words she had memorized long ago, "

Wherewith shall I kneel before the high God? Shall I offer holocausts unto him, and yearling calves? May the Lord be appeased with thousands of rams, or ten-thousand rivers of oil? Shall I give him my firstborn, for my wickedness? The fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?"

The floor creaked as Demona approached, and Princess Katherine was startled from her prayer and stared at her with wide eyes, in the lantern light.

"He hath shown you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord requireth of thee; To do justice and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God."

In her cold, passionless tone, Demona finished the scripture for the astonished princess. She knew this passage well. Macbeth had it embroidered on a tapestry in his library and often considered the quote when making difficult decisions as king of his people. She had admired the tapestry herself, often enough. She'd never met a human that resembled such a lofty ideal, but the words had always reminded her of Goliath, for he had lived them. Even hearing them now from the princess' lips, she was reminded of the night Goliath had sentenced her to a lifetime of imprisonment in the castle, assuring her that the only penance that could possibly save her soul was love.

"You have come," Katherine whispered, "I didn't know if you would."

Demona was confused by this statement, and by the manner in which she spoke it. She'd expected the princess to address her with contempt, or at least fear, but she almost seemed glad to see her.

"I was unaware that my presence was requested," she replied coldly.

"Not officially requested," the princess admitted, "But sincerely hoped for."

"I see," Demona replied. Sighing, she closed her eyes for a moment. She thought of her daughter, and the hope she had brought to her broken soul. She thought of Goliath, and all of his hope for her, despite the anguish she had caused him. She even thought of Hudson, and his claim that she had not failed until she ceased to fight. And before she could think of anything else, she knelt beside the trembling princess.

"Your Highness," Demona began begrudgingly, "You have been a mother to my clan's children. You've raised them in safety, kindness, and dignity, and I am in your debt for that. Thank you."

Katherine seemed uncomfortable with the praise.

"It is the greatest privilege and purpose I could have ever imagined," the princess replied, "You owe me nothing."

Demona cringed slightly at her words.

"I'll assume then, that Goliath hasn't told you yet."

Katherine shook her head, "Told me what?"

"I'm surprised he hasn't," she commented, "But no matter. It is my crime to confess." And confess she did. She told her of having discovered the captain's plan to betray the human clan. She might have revealed him and sent him to the gallows. She might have tried to convince him of another way. She might have warned the humans, so that they had the chance to defend themselves or flee. At the very least, she might have confided in her own mate, whom she loved and was supposed to trust. But she had done none of these things. Instead, she had treacherously entered into a conspiracy with the betrayer, and hoped to win an empty castle for her clan in exchange for her silence. And for her treason, she forfeited the lives of all those she loved.

Tears streamed down the princess' face, though Demona remained stoic and cold. It was as if the only way she could bring herself to speak such a confession was to divorce her heart from her words.

"I know how you loved them," Katherine observed.

"I doubt it," she replied coldly.

"And how you loved him," she continued. Demona closed her eyes and shook her head.

"You couldn't understand that if you tried, and now I must ask for your forgiveness, if I'm ever to be free," she explained resentfully, "Whether you wish to forgive me or not is up to you, but at least this confession ought to satisfy your hope to see me."

"It doesn't though," Katherine replied. Demona gave her a surprised and exhausted look.

"Very well then. What else must I do?"

"Forgive me."

"What?" she asked in horror.

"How can I blame you for this now? You've endured an unthinkable punishment for your transgressions, and I know full well what drove you to them. And who is partly to blame. Please forgive me."

Demona was certain she must have misunderstood. She had expected a conviction, a condemnation, torture, or some sort of penance, all of which she would have endured with some measure of understanding. But instead, Katherine dared to ask for one thing she was quite possibly not be capable of giving. Dismayed by Demona's long silence, the princess spoke again.

"It's good to hear you say that I was a mother to your eggs. I was never confident about my abilities to nurture and guide little ones. I have precious few memories of my own mother. Tragically, my most vivid memory of her was the night she died. Do you remember that night?"

Demona nodded. She had profound memories of that night, though she expected that it wasn't for the same reasons as the princess.

The prince, his young family, and most of the court had traveled to reunite with a nearby clan; their leaders being relations of the prince. The prince had been advised by some to forgo the traditional gathering, as there were reports of Viking raids in the area. But Vikings had never given their clan trouble before, and the prince was confident that with an escort of his gargoyles, any Viking raiders they encountered would be too afraid to threaten them.

Demona had been surprised at having been assigned by her elders as part of the escort, but intrigued to see Prince Malcolm's cousins from far away and enjoy some adventure away from the castle. Surprisingly, the courts of the other clans seemed to look favorably upon the formidable band of gargoyle warriors and had greeted them with admiration when introduced. Demona had been surprised by this, as nearly every other outsider she had encountered had looked upon them with some mixture of terror and scorn. But these humans seemed different. They'd invited the gargoyles to their feast and even pleaded with them to partake in some of their competitions of strength, which quickly turned to exhibitions of the gargoyles' amazing abilities. Demona and the rest of the band had been enjoying themselves so much, that they had been taken by surprise by the Viking band that attacked the party. Though not nearly as surprised as the Vikings had been, when they encountered the gargoyles.

Even though there was only a small number of gargoyle warriors, their victory had been quick and devastating to the band of Vikings. Demona had slain three; the first humans she had ever killed. They'd saved Prince Malcolm and most of his people, but the surprise attack had cost them lives, including that of Malcolm's young bride.

"The last memory I have of my mother," the princess told her, "Was her handing me to you. You carried me away to safety, and comforted me until my nurse found me. You saved my life that night. And you helped to save my father and most of our subjects." Tears streamed down the princess' face, but Demona could only hear the sorrow in her voice as she found it too uncomfortable to look her in the eye.

"But you didn't save my mother. You couldn't save her. And that's why I hated you. I know it was wrong. I was too young to understand at the time but I never let go of that anger. The way I treated your clan, the way I allowed my people to treat you... I'm so ashamed. I know my father would have been ashamed of me. And worst of all, I now see the tragedy that my cruelty inspired. What right had I to ask for your loyalty after that? And yet, even after losing so much, Goliath came to rescue us when we were taken captive. Please. Will you forgive me?"

Demona stared silently at the floor for a long time, her face emotionless as she struggled to make sense of what she heard and what was being asked of her. Finally, she whispered.

"I will and I do." The princess gasped in relief, and reached toward Demona as if to touch her on the shoulders. Startled, Demona leapt to her feet, backing away from the princess. For a moment, she looked her in the eye, grimacing as if in great pain, but then her face loosened as if in relief. And without a word, she collapsed.