Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Until now, Varian had never wondered whether or not he could reach high enough to strangle Quirin.

It had never particularly been an issue, even when they disagreed. Usually Quirin gave him some logical explanation for why Varian wasn’t allowed to do this or go there, and that was that. When he didn’t, Varian just did as he was told anyway. Until the incident with the rocks, but he’d learned his lesson from that.

Now, though, Varian eyeballed Quirin’s broad shoulders, head tilted as he contemplated the angle he’d need to leap in order to utilize said shoulders as a ladder.

It had started innocently enough: a discussion about a map.

Earlier

Metal rang against metal, the clashes punctuated by heavy breaths and feet skidding across dirt. Sweat-drenched and exhausted, he lifted his sword to meet the next attack. His muscles screamed at the exertion, threatening to give underneath the pressure of his opponent’s blade. The tang of salt stung his tongue, and he spat to the side before bringing his sword in a wide arc towards his foe’s legs.

He’d expected her to jump. He didn’t expect her to step on his blade.

He hit the ground with a groan, fingers still clenched tightly around the hilt. Adira grinned down at him smugly. “You lasted longer than I thought you would. Go take a break and get some water. Then do some cool-down stretches.” Moving off his sword, she rejoined Hector, who was poring over a map and mumbling to himself. He shoved it towards her as she sat next to him.

Varian shoved himself up, wiping sweat from his eyes. In the heat of mid-summer, he’d had to resign himself to removing his ever-present cloak, and his sleeveless tunic made the weather somewhat more tolerable, but the difference between the mountain chill of the Dark Kingdom and the coastal atmosphere of the areas surrounding Corona made the sudden trip back to his first home more challenging. Even more so because of the rigorous training he endured at the hands of his aunt and uncle, who seemed not a bit affected by the heat. Adira still wore her thick coat, and Hector his long cloak with its fur-lined hood.

He grabbed a canteen and settled against a rock, pouring a bit of the water on his head before he nearly inhaled the rest. Ruddiger hopped up onto the rock behind him, holding out an apple. Varian grinned and shook his head, stretching his weary arms out in front of him and rolling his shoulders forward.

Hector glanced over at him. “You did good,” he called. “Watch your stance so you don’t lose your balance.”

Quirin strode out of the cabin, bags slung over his shoulder. When he saw Varian, his eyebrows knit in that sort of concerned-frustrated mixture that Varian had gotten used to seeing over the course of his short life. But what for this time? He was just sitting here, for crying out loud! Quirin had looked at him like that several times over the last few days they’d been holed up in the cabin. Now that Quirin’s strength was beginning to return, they could finally move on, and maybe he would stop staring at Varian like he’d fall apart at a gentle breeze.

Quirin set the bags down and knelt next to Varian. “How are you, son?”

“Fine.” Varian pushed his bangs out of his face. “Just sparred against Aunt Adira.”

“Is your arm alright?”

“Yeah. She still says I shouldn’t use my right, but I do most of my fighting with my left hand anyway, so…” He trailed off awkwardly. Despite Quirin’s past as a knight, Varian still struggled to talk to him about his training or sparring, or his choice of weapons, or his increase in muscle mass and agility—or anything, really. Why was it so hard to talk to him? Quirin had left the Brotherhood, but he still understood that life, right? But it was nigh impossible to reconcile the two versions of his father in his mind, despite all Hector and Adira told him.

Sure enough, Quirin sighed deeply. Resting a hand on the bags, he changed the subject. “I’ve got our travel bags packed. We can move out.”

“Finally,” Hector called. “We’ve got our path planned. If I never see this place again, it’ll be too soon.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Varian grumbled as he stood. “What’s our heading?”

Hector placed the map atop a wooden chopping block beside the cabin. “We’re here. The Moonstone thief is headed towards Corona so she can… I dunno, establish another dictatorship or something. If we can head her off, we save a lot of trouble, but there’s too much room for error. Adira and I have narrowed it down to here, though.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “We think she’ll go for the straightest course since she’s probably in a hurry. We should be able to cut her off near the Forest of No Return.”

“That close?” Varian bit his lip.

“She can move a lot faster than us right now.”

Varian moved closer to the map, tracing the lines with his eyes. “Unless… She’s not coming straight for Corona.”

“Hm?” Hector tilted his head to look at the map from Varian’s angle. “What makes you think so?”

“She doesn’t understand the Moonstone yet. She doesn’t know how to control its power. Cassandra’s many things, but she isn’t stupid. She’ll try to figure out how to force it to do what she wants before she puts her life at stake for some big rebellion.”

Hector’s eyes glimmered with excitement. “So she’s vulnerable. Where do you think she’ll go?”

“She’ll need somewhere she can practice in secret. She doesn’t know we came to Corona, so she’ll want to get as far away from the Dark Kingdom as possible. But she won’t get so close to Corona that word could get back to Rapunzel. I think she’ll stick around the forests or plains to the northeast, where there isn’t as much of a populace but she’s still away from us. Or maybe the canyon.”

“Then if we take this road east, we can cut north at the border of Pittsford.” Adira gestured to a line on the map. “From there, we’ll follow the rumor trail on our way towards the northeast. If we hear anything promising, we’ll change course.” 

Quirin leaned over the map. “Then we’ll split up there. I’ll take Varian and head south to Neserdnia.”

Varian frowned. “Cassandra won’t head towards Neserdnia. It’s too populated. Plus, I don’t think the Dark Kingdom has any historical connections there. Does it?”

“We had some trade agreements years ago, but nothing significant,” Adira answered

“Which is exactly why we’ll be going that way,” Quirin replied. “Because she won’t.”

“Huh?” Varian’s head canted to the side. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would we go that way if we don’t have the opportunity to cut her off?”

It was Hector who understood first, his bright eyes narrowing. He straightened up from the map, arms crossed over his broad chest. “You’re leaving.”

Varian scoffed. “What? No!” Looking to Quirin, he shook his head in disbelief. “He’s not— we’re not— Right? I mean, we wouldn’t just leave, not when we have to help Uncle Hector and Aunt Adira find Cassandra, right?” His lips slowly curled into a frown. “Right?”

Quirin gave a sigh, straightening his shoulders and letting his eyes fall somewhere over Varian’s left shoulder. “We’re leaving. This is far too dangerous.”

“What? You’re just— just gonna leave? Forget the Moonstone? And the mission?”

“Why not?” Hector bit out. “He already has once.” By his feet, Riki and Kiki growled and circled, casting twin glares at Quirin.

Quirin shook his head. “You and I will never agree on what happened back then, but arguing about it is pointless.”

“Argue? There’s nothing to argue about. You left. End of story. You ditched us and left to go live in some overly-cheerful village as far away from the Dark Kingdom as you could possibly get. And now you’re running away again.”

“I have my son to think about,” Quirin growled. “You may just be able to throw your life away for a fool’s errand, but I don’t have that choice. Varian takes priority.”

“Well then,” Varian said with a cutting look towards his father, “You’ll have to come with us. Because I’m going with Uncle Hector.”

“You are not. We are going straight to Neserdnia. There’s rich farmland down there, and Neserdnia is far more scientifically advanced than Corona. You can at least continue your engineering studies down there. We can start over somewhere where no one knows us.”

“Start over?” he snapped, anger coloring his voice. “I already started over. I started over seven months ago. This is my life now. I’m not going to Neserdnia and acting like none of this ever happened! And they need our help!”

“We can’t do this alone,” Adira added. “Hector and I are good, but we have no idea what Short Hair can do. The more of us we have working together, the better of a chance we stand of taking her down. We need your help, Quir.”

Quirin turned away from them and picked up the travel packs. “Whatever you do, you’ll do it without us. This is too dangerous for me to allow Varian to be a part of. His safety is my priority.”

“Then come with us,” Hector insisted. “Varian’s coming, so if you wanna protect him, you don’t have much of a choice.”

Quirin turned to him. “I already said he’s not.”

Getting in his personal space, Hector sneered. “What if I say he is?”

“You aren’t his father.”

“I might as well be! Who broke him out of prison? Who brought his fever down? Who fixed his arm?” He slapped his hand against his chest. “I protected him. I held him after his nightmares. I taught him how to defend himself, and I taught him what it means to be a knight! You didn’t do any of that.”

“I wasn’t there. You know I would have—”

“Exactly!” Hector poked a finger in Quirin’s chest. “You weren’t there. I was. You ain’t the only one in Varian’s life, and you sure as heck ain’t the only one who gets to say where he goes and what he does. How about you listen to what he wants every once in a while, you bull-headed buffoon?”

“I’m his father. It’s my responsibility to keep him safe.”

“And it’s my responsibility to tell you you’re being an overgrown bull calf. Varian can take care of himself. I care just as much about his safety as you, but I trust him. He knows when to make tracks.” As he spoke, Ruddiger scampered up to his shoulders, chittering at Quirin in agreement.

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Quirin snapped, swatting Hector’s hand away. “I’ve already made my decision. We’ll travel with you as far as Pittsford, but that’s it.”

Varian glared at Quirin. Of all the stubborn, inconsiderate, arrogant… This wasn’t what he’d expected at being reunited with his father. Admittedly, he hadn’t ever expected to see him again, much less be held in his strong embrace the way he had when the amber had sloughed away and he’d run to Quirin’s side, seeking out the familiar warmth of his dad’s hold. But now that they were together again, he’d at least expected Quirin to act a little more cooperative!

But why should that be so unexpected? To Quirin, the time of his amber imprisonment had felt a matter of moments, like going to sleep and waking again unrested. Why should he be any different now than he was before Varian’s mistake had nearly cost him his life? He hadn’t lived out the days of agony, the nights of loneliness, the broken moments in between where he gathered what little strength he had in order to remember the faintest glimpse of a friendly smile or kind words.

No, why should Quirin be any different? Only Varian’s entire life had changed. Only Varian had lost himself, drowning in the darkness of his own mind till Hector threw him a rope and taught him how to climb.

“What if I don’t go?” he questioned. “I’ve decided to go with Uncle Hector. So come with us or don’t, but Cassandra has to be stopped, and I’m going to try to talk her down.”

“Enough, Varian!” Quirin snapped.

Varian froze.

“We are going to Neserdnia, and that is final.”

He couldn’t breathe.

Quirin sighed. “I know this is important to you, and once the Moonstone thief has been stopped, we’ll visit Hector and Adira… wherever they end up. But this is not our fight.”

Varian swallowed past the stinging in his throat. Tearing his glove off, he held up his right hand, the back facing towards Quirin. “This is my fight. I took my oath, just like them.”

Quirin stared at his hand, breathing heavily. Varian held his ground, leaned forward slightly, his left leg slid back so his weight rested against the ball of his foot. The silence between them grew, painful in its heaviness, ancient in its hidden familiarity.

A large hand wrapped around Varian’s wrist. He jerked back, his small body coming to a sudden stop at the pressure at the end of his arm. Viselike, Quirin’s hold didn’t waver as his eyes traced the mark. Then he looked up, a cold anger settling over his visage as he glared at Hector. “What have you done ?”

Hector didn’t flinch away from Quirin’s look. “I did what you wouldn’t do. I told him the truth. All of it.”

“You had no right!”

“I had every right. He’s a son of the Dark Kingdom. You should have told him everything years ago.”

“There’s a reason I didn’t!”

Hector took a step forward, eyes flashing a dangerous warning. “Let him go, Quirin.” Still on his shoulder, Ruddiger hissed, eyes narrowed.

Quirin looked down at Varian. Whatever he saw reflected in his son’s face— and Varian, for his part, had no idea if his face reflected his sudden anger or his irrational panic at being held in place— made him let go quickly. Varian stumbled back, reflexively grabbing his arm with his left hand and drawing it close to his chest. Ruddiger hopped off his perch and ran to Varian’s side, pressing into his legs to offer what comfort he could.

“I’m his sword-father,” Hector continued. “I have just as much say as you in where he goes and what he does. This is as much his mission as it is ours.” Stepping closer to Quirin again, he hissed, “He’s not the same little kid you remember. Your son is a soldier. Get used to it.”

“He was never meant to be one,” Quirin growled back. “After everything I did to give him a better life than what we had, you had no right to condemn him to that. I wanted better for him than what we had. My son is a scientist, not a soldier. You never should have filled his head with these fantasies.”

Varian backed away from the two as they continued to argue. The tightness of his chest hadn’t ceased. Adira motioned to him, and he quickly stepped over to her side. “He can’t make me leave the Brotherhood, can he?” he whispered.

Adira shook her head. “No. The oath is binding for life.”

“Have there ever been times when a parent tried to make their child leave?”

Adira knelt to be on eye level with him. “Did Hector explain to you the parenting side of being a mentor?”

“He just said it meant becoming a sword-father or sword-mother. He didn’t really say what that meant.”

“It’s the same as adoption. Because the successors are chosen young, the mentor agrees to step into the paternal or maternal role for them. When Hector brought you in as his successor, you legally became his child. Because it’s so serious, a candidate for the role must receive their own parents’ permission. The parents agree to allow their child to be raised and trained by the mentor.”

“And I never agreed to that,” Quirin snapped, overhearing their conversation. “I didn’t give consent for Varian to join the Brotherhood.”

Hector gave him a withering look. “Tell him the rest, Adira.”

Somewhat smugly, she stood. “If, however, the candidate is an orphan, the successor has no one to seek approval from and therefore no one to say no except the ruling monarch. This principle was established to give a fair chance to orphans who sought a stable life by joining the Dark Kingdom’s military.”

“I’m very much not dead,” Quirin reminded her.

Hector scoffed. “Yeah, and how were we supposed to know that? We brought Varian in under the assumption you were dead. It wasn’t easy for any of us, but we moved on. We kept living. As far as we knew, V was an orphan. He might as well have been,” he muttered, a haunted look rising to his eyes. “We were all he had. We didn’t really try to sit and think about what you wanted for him. It didn’t much matter after everything he went through. He was already involved, whether you like it or not. We did the best we could.”

“You didn’t have to involve him like this.”

“It was my choice,” Varian spoke up. “I wanted to join.”

“Because he gave you some story of the honor and dignity of knighthood, I suppose.” To Hector, he added, “I’d thought everything we went through would’ve cleared your head a little. That life is over. The glory days are gone. We gave up our lives for nothing but bones and dust to show for it.”

“The mission was never over,” Hector shot back. “It was never about the Dark Kingdom. We lost our home but not our purpose. You just threw yours away. Like we weren’t good enough for you anymore. We were never supposed to have anything to show for it. That was for everyone else to have. Our sacrifice made their lives possible.”

“Whose lives? The people are gone. They’ve settled elsewhere.”

Varian wrapped his arms around himself and looked up at Adira. “Are they normally like this?”

“All the time,” she admitted wearily. “I was, too. We weren’t always a unified front.”

“How long does it normally take them to work it out?”

“Depends on how angry they make each other in the next five minutes.”

Varian groaned and settled against a rock. They could be here a while. “Cassandra’s getting further away, and they’re sitting here arguing about who gets to… parent me?”

“Yep.”

“Should we say something?”

A dry smile turned the corners of her lips. “In a minute. I want to see where this goes.”

Next to the map, Quirin and Hector continued to argue, gesturing and pacing to prove their points. “You’re overreacting,” Hector huffed. “The kid’s old enough to make his own decision about this sorta thing. He’s a lot older than we were.”

“The end of a sword doesn’t care how old you are. It kills just the same. If the Moonstone thief hurts Varian, that responsibility falls on you. Are you prepared for that?”

“Talya took responsibility when I got hurt. Ki’Bera took responsibility for you. It’s what’s expected of us. Or do you just think I’m not capable of being responsible?” Hector waved a hand at Varian. “I’m doing a dang good job. He’s healthy and safe. And now, thanks to me, he knows how to protect himself. You saw what he did to that Coronan guard.”

“Don’t remind me. I lost five years of my life watching that. He could have died. He nearly did!”

“But he won. That’s what I’ve taught him. You didn’t teach him that.”

“Because I never wanted him to have to fight!”

“You left him unprepared!”

Varian rested his head in his hands. “We’re gonna be here a while.”

Wordlessly, Adira held out a bag of mixed nuts and dried fruit. Varian took a handful and munched at it while he watched the chaos unfold.

“I prepared him for what he needed,” Quirin answered. “I didn’t prepare him to throw his life away recklessly! After everything we endured, the last thing I wanted was for him to suffer the same as us. To give up everything for a life of solitude and misery and to die at the edge of a blade with nothing to show for his years. I left the Brotherhood because after years of work, I saw the futility of it all. There may have been a point years ago, but not anymore. No one even remembers the rumors of the Moonstone.” His tone dropping lower, he growled, “You may have convinced Varian to take an oath he couldn’t possibly understand, but I refuse to sit by and watch you convince my son to surrender everything for this— this cultish mission!”

Hector’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Cultish?” he echoed. “Is that what you think of us? You think me and Adira are cult members. We’ve seen cults, Quirin. We’ve dismantled cults. How dare you compare our work to that!”

Adira’s eyes widened in alarm. Standing, she positioned herself in between the two men. “That’s enough. Both of you. I’d thought twenty-five years would’ve matured you a little bit, but here you are, bickering like children! Hector, give Quirin some grace. He lost a year of his life, and now his son is a different person. And you, Quirin—” She whirled on him with a scowl. “You made your thoughts on the Brotherhood clear when you left, but whether you like it or not, Varian made an informed decision that he was old enough to make. And that decision is irreversible unless he chooses to leave like you did. You can’t force him to leave. Now every minute we spend arguing is a moment more that Short Hair learns how to use the Moonstone.” She rested a hand on Quirin’s shoulder. “We won’t make you come with us. If you leave, I’ll respect your decision. But the very evil we all feared and worked to prevent has happened. If the Brotherhood doesn’t stand in her way, then she’ll destroy anything in her path. And don’t think for one minute she’ll be satisfied with just Corona. That sort of power has a tendency to spread. Varian won’t be safe, even in Neserdnia. Short Hair wants him on her side. I, for one, don’t want to see what she’ll do to accomplish that goal. If he can talk her down and convince her to see reason, I think he deserves to try.”

Quirin hung his head, a heavy sigh weighing his words down. “I watched the Moonstone destroy everything, Adira. This isn’t the life I wanted for Varian.”

“I know. But like it or not, he was already suffering because of the Moonstone. He lost his freedom, his home, and… and you. All we offered him was a chance to fight back. To keep others from losing everything as well. Once upon a time, you saw the importance of what we did. That we sacrifice so others can live.” She took a step back, removing her hand from his shoulder. “And you can’t blame Hector for being angry you called the Brotherhood a cult. You know how he grew up. You know how important this is to him. Our sacrifice was made for something greater than ourselves, and people lived good, long lives because of what we did.” Looking between the two, she continued, “I won’t make you go with us, but I’m asking you to. As your sister. Our family is together for the first time in years. Are we really going to throw this chance away? Help us stop the thief. Then we can talk about what to do from there.” She gave a stern look to Hector, who fidgeted uncomfortably. “Hector,” she prompted.

He sighed. “I want you to come with us. I… I’ve missed you. It hasn’t been the same.”

Quirin looked back and forth between them, then at Varian, who watched with bated breath. Had Adira managed to reach him when Varian’s own pleas fell on deaf ears? While a small part of him wanted to be angry with Quirin, the former knight’s grief and pain traced itself into every line of his face. Adira could reach him as an equal, someone who had lived the same pain that he had. Someone who had fought at his side, their blood intermingled on the battlefield.

“I’ll… Just this once. For Varian’s sake. I’ll come with you and help you stop her.” Quirin straightened his shoulders and nodded. “After that, then we can talk about it. You weren’t the only one who moved on. I moved on, too. I created a life for myself outside the Brotherhood. I don’t know if I’m ready to give that up again.”

“I understand.” She picked up her bag. “Are we settled, then?”

“If you two are ready, I am,” Hector huffed. “Well, this was a big waste of time for something we all knew was gonna happen. He’s too sentimental to leave us alone for long.”

“You’re the one who said he was going to leave us again.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it.” He rolled his eyes. “I knew he’d come around.”

“Liar.”

Varian stared, eyes wide. Had that really just happened? After all their arguing, they were over it just like that?

The tightness of Hector’s smile answered his question, as did the wary way Quirin held himself away from the others. When Hector had first freed Varian, several of his wounds had been infected. Hector had needed to reopen some of them to apply the healing medicines and allow them to mend properly. Like then, their now-gentle words were a temporary balm over deeper wounds that still needed to be healed. But they had acknowledged their injuries, at least, and healing would come in time.

Sprinting forward, he flung himself at Quirin, wrapping his arms around him. Quirin grunted, kneeling down to hug him in return. “I wanna learn everything,” he demanded. “Teach me everything you know! Hector says you were the best at hand-to-hand combat, and that you know how to speak six languages, and that you used to make maps, and that—”

“You want to know everything?” Quirin laughed. “That will take a while.”

“We’ve got time.”

Quirin’s hand came up to rest against the back of his head, fingers running through his long hair. “Yeah… we have time.”

Their wounds would need to be addressed soon. They had let them fester for too long. And the time would come. For now, though, they had a mission to fulfill and a thief to catch. Until then, they had each other again, and that was enough.

O‴O‴O‴

Leather scraped against uneven cobblestone as she tripped, her boots catching in a small sinkhole. A hand caught her arm and steadied her. She looked up at her companion with a nod of thanks, readjusting her hood over her eyes. Drawing out a small book from her pocket, she scratched a few notes on the paper and replaced it.

“Do we need to be out here? Surely we could have had people come talk to you somewhere safer,” he whispered, glancing around out from under the hood of his own cloak.

“I need to see it for myself. Outside the walls of the palace. Where should we stop next?”

“One of our informants mentioned a section of town that floods every time it rains.”

“Take me there, then.” Arianna brushed her wrist across her forehead. Some months from now, the weather would snap soon and bring in the cool of harvest-time, but until then, the summer heat pressed its advantage with all its strength. “Oh, remind me to speak to the stonemasons about carving rainwater holes into the bricks for the animals. Somewhere people won’t trip on them, of course.” 

“Of course, Your— er, Ma’am.” Bartholomew motioned down another street. “It’s this way, over towards the coast.”

They hurried through the streets. As they walked, Arianna glanced around, noting several others in hooded cloaks like theirs. At least out here, this was considered normal, and their efforts to conceal their faces gathered no undue attention as she had feared.

As they stepped out into a small square, Arianna stopped and put out a hand for Bartholomew to do so as well. He gave a questioning grunt but stopped when he saw what she had seen. There, in the center of the square, Rapunzel danced with a few young ladies, flower petals scattered around at their feet as a lanky young man played a vibrant tune on his fiddle. Over against the wall, several gold-armored guards watched: one of Frederic’s security measures he’d mandated after the Brotherhood had left Corona. It was a pointless endeavor, in Arianna’s opinion, given his decree that Varian and his family were banished, but he had insisted. And it was currently the reason why she and Bartholomew had traveled alone and in disguise.

“What are you going to tell her?” Bartholomew asked.

“I don’t know yet. She’ll need to know everything eventually. I just haven’t decided how to tell her. Or when.”

“Why wait? As you said, she’ll need to know.”

Arianna leaned against the brick wall, watching Rapunzel’s carefree dance. “She’s a key part of my plan, but I can’t risk her jeopardizing everything if Frederic’s influence over her is still too strong.” Lowering her voice, she murmured half to herself, “She already lost one parent this way.”

As Rapunzel twirled, she caught sight of the two cloaked figures. Her lips quirked in confusion before blossoming into the beautiful grin that warmed Arianna’s heart every time she saw it. This was why she fought. For this, for Rapunzel, for her people. And for this, she would undo every malignant design of Frederic’s. She would reach down to the core of his lies and manipulation and rip it to shreds. She would tear down his empire brick by brick.

Placing a finger to her lips, she drew back further into the alley. Rapunzel nodded slightly and looked away, casting her attention back to her dance. Letting her gaze linger for just a moment on Rapunzel— on her hope, her pride, her very heart and the future of her kingdom— she slipped away down the side street to go around the square.

There was much work to be done.

Chapter Text

Varian hurried to keep up with Adira’s unfaltering steps as they raced down the narrow, tree-lined road. Off ahead of them, Quirin and Hector had gone off to scout and to find a place to make camp. And, Adira said, to give them some time to talk through things. That left her in charge of watching him while they were away, and thus their (most assuredly skewed in her favor) race.

“Come on, Var,” she called. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already!”

“We’ve been—” he gasped for breath. “Running for… for miles already!”

“This is nothing! Wait till we work on your swimming stamina.” Her back was turned to him, but he could have sworn she was laughing at him.

Though officially Hector was responsible for teaching him, Adira had seized the opportunity to “corrupt his impressionable young mind,” as Hector liked to complain. Despite her reclusive tendencies and her questionable mentoring skills, she seemed to enjoy sharing her knowledge with him. And Varian, hungry as he was for anything he could get from the Brotherhood, listened to every word with rapt attention and obediently committed to every exercise, kata, and spar. And that, unfortunately, meant running down the road like an idiot instead of riding one of the bearcats or Kubwa.

It also, more fortunately, meant he got away from Quirin and Hector for a while.

They were getting on his nerves.

Despite their temporary truce, the two still had much to work through, and it was Varian’s great misfortune to be stuck completely in the middle of their biggest disagreement. Thus his agreement to Adira’s ridiculous training regiment.

Ruddiger chattered cheerfully as he sprinted past Varian, running alongside Adira until she conceded to lower her arm and let him climb onto her shoulder. He hopped up, turning to mockingly click at his boy. Varian spluttered in indignation. “Wh— ba— That’s cheating! You’re cheating!”

Overhead, a shadow blotted out the sun, and Artemis’s long cry carried through the air as she swept down to land on Varian’s outstretched arm. He stopped running, slightly stooped over as he panted for breath. “Hi, Artemis. Back already?”

Artemis lifted a leg, revealing the rolled paper tied with purple ribbon. Varian grinned and pulled the string to release it. Stepping to the side of the road, he sat underneath a tree and unrolled the paper. Adira ran back to him, leaning over him. As Varian’s eyes trailed along the paper, he read aloud.

To the loyal Order of the Brotherhood of the Dark Kingdom

From Her Royal Majesty, Queen Arianna Der Sonne of Corona

It is with pleasure that I pen this letter to you. In the weeks since your departure, we have settled into a peace, of sorts. I wanted to write and inform you of the changes I have already begun to make. In a week’s time, I will meet with the queen of Kotoa to hold discussions of increased trade between our kingdoms, and a week after that I meet with the queen of Ingvarr to open the possibility of allowing our guards — those whom I trust, of course — to receive military training. Captain Bartholomew is taking my security with all seriousness and wants to inform you that he has already devised an escape plan in case we are forced to flee the country.

Rapunzel sends her love and respect, and she asks me to write that Maximus is working to improve the state of the Royal Guard. Eugene is taking his studies very seriously, and he appreciates the books on Dark Kingdom culture that His Majesty King Edmund brought over upon his arrival in Corona. (There was some resistance to his visit, as he is a member of the Brotherhood and of your family, but no one wanted to risk offending a neighboring king and Rapunzel’s future father-in-law, so he has settled in well.) Lance asks that I convey his respect as well, and he has taken an interest in your country’s music. If possible, when we are able to establish relations, he would like to take lessons in your instruments and potentially transcribe your songs into sheet music.

Until I have the pleasure of writing again, I remain faithfully your friend,

Queen Arianna.

Adira frowned. “I wasn’t aware that Edmund had traveled to Corona.”

“He sent Hamuel with a message,” Varian informed her. “Did Hector not show you? He decided to go see Eugene, so they sent a balloon for him. I think he wants to test the political waters of Corona in case anything goes wrong or Queen Arianna is able to establish relations. And he wants to spend time with his son since he hasn’t seen him all these years.”

“Is Fishskin okay with this?”

“He’s… taking it, at least. It’s still weird for him, but I think he wants to know more about King Edmund, too.”

“And how are you taking this?” she asked softly, stepping closer to him. “I know you still don’t trust Edmund, but—”

“I don’t—” Varian shrugged. “I still need time. I know he didn’t hurt you, but he could have.” The sight of the dark bruises that covered Adira’s arms and shoulders still lurked at the edges of his nightmares. Edmund would never hurt Adira, he knew this, but it was still too easy to see that and to imagine his heavy fist driving into her skin over and over again. “I think I’ll get used to him one day. Here, can you hand me that bag? I need to write her back.”

Adira slung the pack off her shoulder. Varian grabbed a paper and pen from inside and settled back against the tree, resting the paper on top of his sketchbook as he began to write. Once everyone had a chance to write their part, he would send it back with Artemis.

To Her Royal Majesty, Queen Arianna Der Sonne of Corona

From the Brotherhood

Your Majesty, your letter is well received. Things have been well for us since we left…

O‴O‴O‴

Hector slid his knife over the edge of the stake until the point was satisfactorily sharp. The shavings landed in the fire, offering a bit of extra fuel. Holding up the stick, he surveyed the point and nodded with a deep grunt. Setting it to the side, he grabbed a second and began sharpening it too.

Quirin appeared at the edge of the campsite, carrying several fowl. “We’ve got a problem.”

“So I’ve heard,” Hector muttered.

Quirin scowled and set the fowl down next to the fire. “Look at those.”

Hector set his stake down and looked over at the fowl. Riki and Kiki, curled up nearby, stared at the birds with twin glints of hunger in their red eyes, but they lay still at Hector’s uplifted hand. “What am I looking at?”

With a gesture, he indicated deep wounds in the birds’ flesh. “I didn’t do this. I found each of these. Three of them, all with these tied to their legs.” He held up small scraps of paper, passing them over to Hector.

Hector took the notes. Each one was a plea for help, written in barely legible script with dreadful spelling. “Where did you find these?”

“Off in the woods. They were a ways apart. And they weren’t all killed at the same time. Looks to me like someone’s trying to get a message out, and someone else doesn’t want them to.”

“Arrow wounds,” Hector noted, running a finger alongside the holes in the small bodies. “These aren’t messenger birds, though. Whoever sent them was clearly desperate. I’d say none of them are more than four days dead. So whoever it is may still be in trouble. We should take a look and see.”

“It’ll take us out of our way. Do we have that kind of time?”

“Can we really choose not to? If people are in trouble, we need to do something.”

Quirin nodded. “You have a point. We can move out once Varian and Adira get here.”

Hector nodded. “Did you find anything else while you were hunting? Like something edible?”

From his sack, Quirin withdrew a few rabbits. “There’s not much to hunt around here, but I found a few. We should skin them and clean them before Varian gets back. He won’t want to see that.”

“He won’t mind,” Hector said. “It doesn’t bother him. He’s a pretty good hunter, himself. Shoulda seen the buck he tracked down during his ceremonial hunt.”

Quirin’s face grew tight. Hector huffed. Really, was there nothing he could say about Varian that wouldn’t get on Quirin’s nerves? They shared no common point in his life except for this. Quirin had had the first fourteen years of Varian’s life, and Hector had the last six months. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t converse about Varian’s alchemical prowess or his good-natured friendliness. That one night in the woods when he’d lost his memory had been Hector’s only glimpse into the Varian he had never been privileged to know, the one that Quirin still tried to cling to. And to Quirin, this wild-mannered boy who wielded swords instead of chemicals and wore his hair braided rather than short was a stranger, a facsimile of his son.

Soft chatter and laughter carried over the wind towards them. From the direction of the road, Adira and Varian came into view. They neared the fire, settling down next to the other two; Adira stretched her arms above her head and cracked her knuckles, while Varian leaned against Hector’s side and yawned.

“Good run?” Hector asked.

“She’s cruel and heartless,” he retorted. “My poor muscles will never recover from this. Oh! We got a letter from the queen!” He held out the paper. Hector took it and scanned over the words quickly with a nod of appreciation. As always, the Coronan queen managed to impress him. She’d wasted no time at all in setting to work to undo her husband’s malicious designs. Such tenacity and drive would have made her a perfect fit in the Dark Kingdom during its living days.

Quirin stood. “You two stay here and rest. Hector and I have some work to do.”

“What’s the situation?” Adira asked.

“Trouble not far from here. We think there’s someone in need of assistance.” He explained the evidence he’d discovered and shared with Hector.

“Aww,” Varian pouted. “Can’t we come?”

“I’d rather check this out and make sure it’s not dangerous,” Quirin said. “If it is, the two of us will do what we can, and we’ll move on quickly for more secure areas. No sense stepping into something we don’t need to be a part of. Stay here where I know you’ll be safe. I don’t need to worry about protecting you as well.”

Varian’s eyes narrowed. Hector winced. They’d been able to avoid this for this long, and now Quirin had to stick his foot in his mouth. “You’re never going to let me prove I’m capable of protecting myself. You’re just gonna keep telling me you trust me, and then you’ll push me off to the side anytime things get dangerous. I’m a knight, too, you know.”

“Don’t remind me,” Quirin muttered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You saw what I did to David! I’m not some fragile little bird. I can handle myself!”

“Or you could get yourself killed. We don’t know what’s out there.”

Hector stood up. “This is going nowhere fast. My turn to talk. Varian, I want you to stay here for now.” As Varian’s mouth dropped in shock and hurt, he continued, “It’s bad strategy to send everyone into a situation at once. That’s why we split up and scout. Once we know how things lay, then we call everyone in. I won’t leave you behind just because it’s dangerous.” He lifted a hand and rested it atop Varian’s head. “Trust me, kid. I just want to know what we’re dealing with first. Then I’ll come get you. Sound like a plan?” He knelt beside Varian to get on eye level. “Hey, part of being a knight is following orders. Sometimes even ones we don’t like. You chose to let me lead you, and now I need you to trust me not to let you down.”

Varian’s shoulders slumped. He crossed his arms but nodded. “Fine. I’ll do what I have to.”

“Good kid. I’ll be back in an hour or two.” Standing again, he motioned to Quirin. “Let’s hurry. It’s getting dark.” Approaching the grazing Kubwa, he pointed to the bearcats. “Stay here.” They snuffled angrily but settled down by Varian’s feet.

They climbed up onto Kubwa and Aurora and started off into the woods.

“Thank you,” Quirin said softly as the rhino barreled through the trees with the subtlety of a bear in a music shop. “I know you don’t like leaving him behind.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Hector bit back. Quirin wisely stayed silent. With a long sigh, Hector ran his hand through his braids. “Splitting up is normal, but Varian hates being left behind. There’s a lot about him you’re not used to.”

“I know. I have a lot to learn. But I don’t even know what I don’t know.”

“You’ll learn. But you can’t pretend he’s the same kid who ran out into that storm to get you help. He’s not.”

They fell silent after that, lost in their thoughts. A part of Hector ached to go back and get Varian. After all his talk of not leaving him behind, he stooped to agreeing with Quirin when push came to shove. And yeah, it was for a good purpose, and it was the same thing he would have said to either of his siblings, but Varian wasn’t like them yet. A knight in his own regard and a growing warrior, he still had much to learn. He wasn’t raised in the Dark Kingdom, in the ranks of the cadets all vying for one of three prestigious positions. Varian couldn’t be treated the way he and his siblings had. He couldn’t be trained the same. He needed different things. He needed to be kept close to one of them always for his own peace of mind. Varian needed him.

Lost in his thoughts, Hector almost failed to notice when Kubwa came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the ruined village.

O‴O‴O‴

“We’re out of stinging nettle.”

Adira looked over at him. “I packed two jars. How are we out?”

“I think we made too much tea. Remember the night we didn’t drink it all? But we’ll need more soon. We’re moving out of the climate it grows in, and we need to make sure we have plenty of herbs before we go north.” Without turning back to look at Adira, Varian slowly passed the still-full jar to Ruddiger, who stuffed it away in their bedroll. “If you want to get more, I’ll stay here and take inventory of all our other supplies.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of leaving you here alone.”

“I won’t be alone.” Varian turned and gave her a bright grin. “I’ve got Riki and Kiki and Ruddiger and Artemis. I think we can find something to do.”

Adira frowned. “If you’re sure. Wouldn’t you rather come with me and help me find some?”

“Nah. I need to finish all this homework Dad left me.” He held up his mapmaking supplies. “He wants me to copy a map of the entire Bayangoran kingdom. I’d almost rather go for another run than do that.”

Eyes narrowed, she stared at him for several long seconds. Varian smiled innocently, waiting until she nodded and turned away. “I’ll be back in less than an hour. And if you’re not here when I get back, I’ll ground you for life,” she warned with the point of a finger.

Varian waited till she left. Then he waited five minutes longer. When he was certain she wouldn’t come back with no warning, he stuffed the map supplies back in his bag and leapt to his feet. “Okay. We have maybe forty-five minutes to make tracks, since there’s no way she’ll be gone an hour. Let’s go.”

Riki whined and took Varian’s cloak in his mouth, tugging it gently. Varian pulled it free. “Come on, Riki. If Uncle Hector and Dad are in danger, we need to do something to help. We won’t step in unless we have to, but they’ll need us as backup!”

Artemis flapped her wings and gave a low cry, shaking her head. Varian crossed his arms. “Yeah, I know— I know what Uncle Hector said. And Aunt Adira. But I’m a part of the Brotherhood, too. Hiding here isn’t doing any good, and I’m tired of them trying to shelter me. Last time he tried to shelter me, things didn’t go so well,” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around himself. “No more lies. And no more being left behind. Now are y’all coming with me or not?”

Ruddiger climbed up to his shoulders. Riki let go of his cloak and crouched down beside him. Kiki gave a sharp-toothed grin. With one last shake of her feathered head, Artemis flew to sit on Kiki’s back. Varian hopped onto Riki and motioned him in the direction the men had gone. “We gotta stay out of sight,” he warned. “If we get caught, we’re in big trouble. And we can’t let Adira catch us.” With a deep breath, he added, “No problem. We got this.”

With that parting bit of optimism, they tore off into the woods after Hector and Quirin.

O‴O‴O‴

The village lay stretched out before them, sharp rocks pierced through the wooden and stone structures. Roofs lay collapsed atop the fallen walls, water soaked the dirt streets from overturned and smashed water vessels, and the soft, mournful cries of pain and bitterness drifted along on a breeze tainted with the smell of decaying flesh. Something putrid hung in the air, an acrid rot. Something freshly dead. Smoke clouded the air, floating up from smoldering wreckage and the remnants of small cooking fires.

“What happened here?” Quirin whispered. “What is this?”

“Not sure,” Hector murmured back. “Looks like the rocks moved. Maybe when the thief took the Moonstone. The damage looks to be a week or so old, but those fires are fresh. Let’s go down and check it out.”

“Wait,” Quirin warned. “Circle around. Look for hostiles. Split up.”

“I’ll take south. You go north. Kubwa, Aurora, stay here and keep watch.” Hector dismounted and started towards the south side of town. Quirin’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Why would anyone build on top of an area where the rocks were already present?” Quirin asked. “I don’t think the rocks moved. I think they’re new. She’s stretching her reach.”

“Then she’s closer than we thought.”

Quirin’s deep eyes narrowed in grief. “This is what the Moonstone causes. This is everything we worked to prevent. I watched this happen in Old Corona. I watched it happen in the Dark Kingdom.” A heavy sigh rocked his body. “This can’t go on. I see… I understand why you kept fighting. I don’t hold it against you. I wanted better for Varian, but… he always wanted to help people. That’s all he ever wanted. When the rocks came to Old Corona, he would spend days without sleep down in his lab trying to get rid of them.”

“He needed to do something,” Hector said. “He hates feeling powerless.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t do a very good job at that, then.”

“You still have time. You have a second chance with him.”

Quirin nodded. Letting go of Hector’s arm, he took a step back.

“We’ll meet on the other side,” Hector suggested. “If anything happens and either of us have to move into the town, try to be there in twenty minutes after. If we aren’t, the other can go in after.”

“Got it.”

They split up, heading in their respective arches around the town. Despite the weight of the task ahead of him, Hector moved with lighter steps. If Quirin was finally coming to an understanding of Varian’s situation, maybe things would get easier between the two of them. As much as he loved his brother, Hector found himself resisting the urge to plant a fist in his face over the last week. Nothing new, of course, but that would make Varian sad. And Hector was trying very, very hard not to make him sad. So Quirin needed to get a grip before Hector had to knock some sense into him the old-fashioned way.

O‴O‴O‴

A knot settled in Varian’s stomach as he looked out over the town. It looked so much like Old Corona. Like his first home, where he’d been imprisoned and beaten, where he’d lost his dad, where he’d lost himself. Was there a boy in this town, a boy grieving the loss of someone close to him? Was there a broken heart with nothing left to lose, someone ready to sell their very soul in exchange for the chance to make the person responsible pay?

Ruddiger tapped his cheek, crooning softly as he curled around Varian’s neck. Varian shook himself loose from the threads of thought. “Right. Thanks, bud. Let’s go. Which way?”

Kiki sniffed along the ground, nodding his head to the south. Riki, though, whined and scuffed his paw alongside a heavy footprint in the dirt. Then they’d split up, and now Varian had a choice to make. He started to nudge Riki to follow his brother, but a cold dread gripped at his throat. He needed to be by Hector’s side; he was his sword-father and mentor. But he couldn’t let Quirin wander into danger by himself. He hadn’t lifted his sword in years, the life of a knight buried behind the stone walls of his house in a thick chest.

Settling his mind, he turned to the north. “Artemis, can you follow Hector? Arte—Artemis? Where’d you go?” He twisted his head around and nearly fell from Riki’s back as a large gray snout puffed a breath of hot air into his face. “Augh! Kubwa, what the dickens!” Shoving his bangs from his face, he glared up at the rhino and at Artemis, perched smugly on his head. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Kubwa stomped around in front of Riki, pressing his horn against Varian’s chest and nudging him back. Varian shoved him away— or tried to, at least. Kubwa snorted and nudged him again. “Yeah, I know, but come on. Nobody actually expected me to sit there and wait on them. They’re probably making bets about which one of them I’ll follow and how long I’ll be. So you can stay here and keep watching, and I’m going after Dad.” Turning his back on Kubwa, he nudged Riki with his heel and motioned for him to go north. Leaving the irate herbivore behind, they hurried off after Quirin.

They raced around the town, Artemis flying above the smog and Varian covering his mouth with his cloak. Ruddiger used a strip of cloth over his face, and the bearcats ran on, uncaring and unbothered. Following Quirin’s footsteps, they spotted him off in the distance, standing on a hill overlooking the small town. They darted behind it, careful to keep out of sight. Sliding off Riki’s back, Varian crept closer to the crest of the hill, eyes locked on Quirin’s broad back.

He froze halfway up as Quirin suddenly stiffened. His head twisted from side to side, listening and watching. Varian pressed himself into the dried grass, head low. When Quirin started walking again, leaving the hill behind and continuing on his path around the town, he slowly rose and stole after him. Riki and Kiki followed along at a distance, creeping along just inside the treeline. Ruddiger pranced after Varian, ducking behind his waving cloak.

So far, Quirin didn’t seem to need any help. Varian kept his eyes on the town, trusting the bearcats to deal with any threats from the forest. Maybe he’d overreacted. Maybe Quirin wouldn’t need him. And Hector certainly didn’t need him. Had he made a mistake in coming? But if anything happened to Quirin while Varian waited safely back at camp, how could he call himself a member of the Brotherhood? So he kept following, ducking down behind scattered wreckage and the occasional tree.

Then Quirin stepped behind a building, out of view.

“Oh, come on,” Varian grumbled. Darting from his hiding place, he motioned for the animals to wait and slunk around to the edge of the building, near the corner. Where had he gone? Had he seen something, like a person in danger or a threat or—

A hand grabbed him and yanked him around the corner, and he found himself face to face with a storm-eyed Quirin. “One order,” his father said with a deep sigh, eyes lined with familiar exhaustion. “I gave you one order. Stay at camp. Even Hector told you. And yet here you are.” He knelt down, hands resting on Varian’s arms, holding him in place. Varian tensed. His core muscles locked as a sharp voice, an ever-present companion, screamed in the back of his mind. Let go, let go, stop touching me! Get your hands off me! But that was ridiculous, because this was Quirin, and Quirin wouldn’t hurt him, but Quirin’s hands were on his arms and he couldn’t move and they were thick and heavy and corded with powerful muscles that could break him in half with little effort—

“Why are you here?” Quirin demanded. “Why can’t you just do as you’re told for once? I’m trying to be patient with you, son, and I’m trying to understand, but I need you to work with me. I need you to listen to me.”

Varian yanked himself free of Quirin’s grip, pulling his breathing under control. He was safe. Nothing was going to happen. Quirin wouldn’t hurt him. “I just— I just wanted to help,” he answered weakly, voice shaking.

“You could have helped me by staying back at camp,” Quirin said. “I don’t need to worry about you as well as all of this. When I tell you to do something, I expect you to obey.”

“I know, I know, but I just thought—”

“Then go back. Adira is probably worried sick about you. I don’t even want to know how you got away from her.”

Varian opened his mouth to answer, but the words disappeared somewhere along the way. Why could he never speak the words he wanted to say in front of Quirin? Why did he find himself voiceless and silent, unable to find his footing? It felt far too much like trying to talk to Rapunzel after they’d encountered one another at the Great Tree. Like he could either only spit vitriol or humbly stay silent and passive. With his father, he had no desire to be angry, but the silent, passive Varian had been taken advantage of too many times for him to be comfortable ever stepping into that role again. Why could he not simply say the words he meant? To admit the fear that gripped his heart when he thought of losing Quirin again?

Because fear was a weakness to be exploited. Because fear left him powerless. Because fear had led him to his worst self, the darkness that forever lurked at the back of his mind, a stain upon his consciousness that awaited the perfect moment to arise and consume him. And to voice such fear would make it real.

Quirin stood. “Go back, Varian. Let me handle this.”

“Is it so hard for you to trust me?” he half-whispered, half-spat.

“What?”

Varian gritted his teeth, cheeks burning in shame. “I thought I could make you proud. Was that too much to ask? For you to just be proud of me, for once? Uncle Hector is. You’re expecting me to— You want me to go back to the way I used to be, before all this. Like all of it never happened. But it happened. I won’t ever be able to live like that again. I thought you understood that!”

“I do understand, son, but—”

“No, you don’t! You say you do, but you don’t. You want to pretend you can’t see what I look like. Well, I have to see it every time I look at my reflection. I don’t get to forget.”

“Varian.” Quirin reached out a hand to him, but Varian stepped back and away from him. Hurt flashed across Quirin’s face, quickly concealed by the aggravating concern he never seemed to lose. “I do see you. And I’m trying. But I don’t think running headfirst into danger is the smartest thing for you to do. You’re brilliant, son, but you always choose recklessness first. This world is new to you. You’re not a fighter like Hector or Adira or even me. You’re a scientist.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore!”

The words left his mouth in a rush, cold and bitter and stinging his mouth like the vile compounds he’d been forced to swallow. Quirin took a step back, the creases across his face deepening.

Varian nearly laughed aloud, bitterness rising in his throat like a storm. “I thought for once,” he replied, mentally cursing the shaking of his voice, “I’d finally be a son you could be proud of! I can— I can throw a decent punch, I hunt now, I’m more careful, and I… and I don’t do alchemy! Isn’t that what you wanted? Why am I still not good enough for you?! Why is nothing I do ever enough?”

“Son, it’s not—”

“Or is it the Brotherhood?” he rambled on, fists clenched by his side as he tilted his head to see better from his left. “You’re ashamed. You’re ashamed of your past and your family. You never told me about them! Do you have any idea what I went through? And none of it would’ve happened if I’d known I had people out there who loved me, who would protect me!”

“I thought you would be safer away from them.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, spreading his arms. “I was real safe.”

Quirin knelt down again and slid his glove off. Holding up his hand so Varian could see the tattoo, he said, “I was never ashamed of the Brotherhood. And I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe. All I wanted was to protect you. I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you out of the way. I never imagined it would cause this much pain to you. I will always want to protect you, and I truly am proud of the man you’re becoming. I’m sorry I don’t show it well.” He bowed his head. “Please understand, I watched as everything I loved disappeared. You are all I have left. I wanted so much more for you than this. I’m so… I’m terrified of losing you, son.”

Tears stung at his eyes. “I’m afraid of losing you, too. I lost you, and I couldn’t do anything. And it was my fault. I nearly killed you and I couldn’t help you and then—” He cut himself off quickly, biting his lip.

“I’m not lost,” Quirin rasped. “I’m right here. And so are you. We have another chance. Varian, I know this will take a while for us to understand each other. We’re both still…”

“Damaged?” Varian whispered.

“Healing,” he corrected. “We’re both still healing. You’re right; you’re not the same as you used to be, and neither am I. We both have pasts that left a mark on us. We need time to get this right.”

“That’ll take a while.”

Quirin smiled and reached out a hand. Varian didn’t pull away this time, letting the calloused palm rest against his cheek. “We’ve got time.”

A soft cry from further inside the ruined village turned their heads. Quirin stood and slid his glove back on. Varian rested his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “Sounds like someone could use some help,” he noted, brushing the back of his hand across his eyes.

“Fortunately,” Quirin replied with a smile, slowly reaching up a hand to rest on Varian’s shoulder, “there’s a few knights here. Let’s go in and see what we can do.”

Chapter Text

They found the source of the noise, a young woman with her leg pinned under a fallen beam. Fresh blood matted in her hair, and her wide eyes stared unfocused out at Quirin and Varian as they approached. Her shoulders hunched up, but she made no other move as they rushed to her side. Varian knelt next to her while Quirin stayed back, watching the surrounding area.

“Hi there,” Varian greeted. “It’s okay now; we’re here to help.”

Her eyes narrowed as her brows drew closer.

“I’m Varian. This is my dad Quirin. From the looks of your eyes, you’ve probably got a pretty solid concussion. Nod if you can understand me.”

She slowly nodded. “You’re… not with them?”

“Who’s them?”

“The… the bandits,” she answered with a weak wave of her hand. “You just missed ‘em. Been in and out for days now. We can’t… we can’t leave. They took everything. But they think we got more.”

Quirin and Varian exchanged a glance. Quirin stepped forward and rested a hand against the beam. “Son, get ready to pull her out.”

Varian nodded. “What’s your name?” he asked her.

“Co—Colette.”

“Colette, is it alright if I put my hands on your arms? As soon as Dad lifts the beam, I’ll pull you free.”

She nodded.

Quirin slid his hands under the wood. “Three… two… one.” He hauled the beam up, resting it on his broad shoulder. Varian grabbed Colette under her arms, tugging her free from underneath it. She gave a short yell but fell silent again as Varian gently laid her back down. Kneeling by her legs, he pulled a canteen from his belt as Quirin lowered the beam and knelt next to them.

“Can I move your skirt a few inches?” Varian asked. “Looks like you’ve got a nasty cut here.” When she nodded again, he pushed the fabric aside and poured some water out over the cut across her calf. When it was as clean as he could get it, he pulled out a roll of bandages and wrapped the wound.

Quirin gently lifted her up into his arms at her assent. “We need to find everyone else. Do you know where they might have gone?”

She nodded and gestured towards the center of town, weakly resting her head against his shoulder. They started off in the direction she’d indicated.

Huddled under what had once been a stately building but was now little more than a half-open pavilion, a small band of townsfolk moved about, patching up injuries and passing around a few water skeins. In the center of the group, Hector stood, directing people about with a wave of his hand. He motioned them over as they approached. Breaking away from the group, he gestured for a man to come take Colette. As the girl was lifted out of Quirin’s arms, Hector propped his hands on his hips and glared at them.

“Took you two long enough,” he said. “We just missed all the fun. We’re treating the injured now.”

“You knew I was coming?” Varian grimaced. He should have expected it; he never could seem to surprise Hector, who knew him better than anyone.

“Of course I did.” Hector knelt down, tilting his head up slightly to look at Varian. “You two needed to get this out into the open. But we’ll talk about this later. I wasn’t kidding; sometimes being a knight means following orders we don’t like. There will be times I’ll need you to listen to me, even when you don’t understand. You’ll have to obey without knowing why. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

Hector nodded and stood, ruffling Varian’s hair. “Adira shouldn’t be long. Let’s get to work.”

“She’s coming too?” Varian threw up his hands. “Did everyone know I was following you?”

“What’s the story here?” Quirin asked. “Do we know who did this?”

Hector nodded. “Yes, to both of you. Come talk to the elder.” He motioned to a man standing near the makeshift infirmary. As he and Quirin turned to go see him, Varian drew back.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna— I’ll wait here,” he muttered.

Hector cast him a curious look. Then he nodded. “Hang on.” Leaving them, he stepped over to the man he’d indicated and touched his arm, gesturing back towards them. The man followed him over. Maybe forty-five, black hair streaked with gray, lean but muscular build. When he stood before them, Hector said, “This is my brother Quirin and my sword-son Varian. Tell them everything you told me.”

He nodded. “My name’s Brenneson. I’m the town elder. We haven’t been established here long, just a few months. We’re a trade town, so fairly well-to-do. Originally, we started off nearer to the coastline, but then the black rocks that came through last year destroyed our homes. We packed up and moved here to re-establish a base of operations.” He rested his hands on his hips, scuffing his foot against the ground as his tone grew more serious. “Then the rocks came back. Tore apart the town. We’ve already lost so much, and that would be bad enough, but then the Yellowjacket bandits set their sights on us. We can’t leave; they attack us every time we try. We’ve sent for help and gotten no answers. They’ve taken everything they could find. We thought they’d let us leave when they had what they wanted, but I’m afraid they’ve got bigger plans.”

“What sort of plans?” Quirin asked.

“There’s a caravan passing through soon, headed for Corona. They’re bringing a pretty sizable payload. If we pack up and leave, they’ll know something’s wrong, and they won’t come through here. We’d planned to get word to them to go around the town. The bandits want that payload, and this is a perfect spot to get the jump on them.”

“What’s in it they’re so interested in?”

“We’re not sure yet. Probably jewelry, imported foods, the like. Whatever it is, they’re dead set on it.”

Varian rested his fingers against his lips as he thought. “Then why would they burn the town? That’s bound to get the wrong kind of attention.”

“Maybe they want to play on the travelers’ sympathy,” Hector offered. “Get them to stop to try to help. How long do we have till the caravan arrives?”

“About a day, if my math is correct,” Brenneson answered.

Hector nodded. “That’s all the time we need. Adira, get all that?”

She grinned from atop a stack of salvaged boxes. “Got it. I’ll stop that caravan. You deal with the Yellowjackets.” Hopping down, she rested a hand lightly on Varian’s shoulder. “I take inventory of my own herbs,” she whispered. So saying, she left the pavilion and disappeared into the village.

“We can’t ask you to do this for us,” Brenneson insisted. “They’re dangerous.”

“So are we,” Hector answered, eyes glinting. He motioned for Quirin and Varian to follow him away from the pavilion. When they were a distance from Brenneson and the villagers, Hector stopped and crossed his arms. “The Yellowjackets have never operated this far south,” he noted. “Whatever this is, it’s got their attention.”

“Once Adira turns the caravan, the bandits will know something’s wrong,” Quirin added. “We’ll have to move quickly. With the right bait, we can lure them out of hiding. Then we can deal with them.” He turned a serious gaze to Varian. “We’ve talked to you about what it means to be a knight. Do you understand what you may face in this fight?”

Varian shrank back slightly. It was something he’d talked about with Hector many times, but the thought of taking a life… how could he consider it deeply, when he’d almost killed Cassandra and Queen Arianna? When he almost stained his hands with their blood? “I… understand,” he answered reluctantly. “I don’t want to ever hurt anyone. But I know that a knight raises their sword to defend.”

“Exactly. Taking a life is never easy. I hope and pray you never have to. But this will be our first fight together, and I need to know you truly comprehend this. If you are in danger, I expect you to defend yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” he whispered. A bitter cold stung at his chest. Never easy. Except it had been in the moment. It had been easy, when he’d shut out the screaming voice in his head, when he’d thrown his battered and bleeding heart aside to keep it from stopping him.

It’s not enough until you’ve endured the same amount of pain and agony I have!

O‴O‴O‴

The bearcats sniffed at the ground, following the bandits’ trail. Behind them, Hector followed, trailing at a distance, eyes darting back and forth. Riki and Kiki had caught the scent easily and trailed it here, a mile or so from the town, in between a lazily-drifting river and a rocky cliff system. A good hiding place, well-defensible and with easy escape if needed. Their prey had dug in like the fleas he had to pull from his pets’ fur. But, like fleas, they couldn’t dig far enough to stop Hector from crushing them.

Smoke from a campfire wafted over the air. He grinned and motioned the boys to either side while he leapt easily into the trees. Hopping lightly from branch to branch, never stirring so much as a leaf, he followed the smell. As the small camp came into view, he settled with his back against a trunk to observe.

Seven bandits circled the fire, laughing and chatting. Hector sneered. No guards, all of them faced towards the fire, and their ill-gotten gain stashed off to the side out of view. Amateurs. The Yellowjackets had either lost their touch or started attracting a weaker quality of criminal since the last time Hector had fought them. In his years since leaving the Dark Kingdom, he’d only run into them twice, each time less impressive than the last.

He watched for a few more minutes before creeping back the way he’d come. Kiki joined him first, and Riki followed along soon after. Under a rocky overhang, Quirin, Varian, and Ruddiger waited for him. Hopping down from the trees, he leaned an elbow on Varian’s head, ignoring his protests. “Seven heads, no brains,” he informed them. “Did you find a good spot?”

Quirin nodded. “There’s a ravine half a mile back.”

“Then that’s almost two miles from their spot. You sure you can run that far, old man?”

“As long as I don’t have you slowing me down.”

Varian shuffled nervously as his fingers tapped against the hilt of his dagger. “Will you be alright?”

Quirin gave a gentle laugh, slowly reaching up a hand to rest on Varian’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to have this much fun. I’ll be fine, I—” Cutting himself short, he corrected, “I’ll be fine.”

With a short nod, Varian shoved Hector’s arm off his head. “I’ll be waiting near the ravine. Don’t be late.”

“Punctuality is important for gentlemen,” Quirin replied with a wry smile. “I’ll be right on time.” Slinging a satchel over his shoulder, he left in the direction Hector had come from, Kiki guiding his way.

Hector hopped back up into the trees. “Get to the ditch. We’ll meet you there. Don’t leave that spot till we arrive.”

“Be careful.”

“Always am.” He flashed a sharp grin. “And I’ll keep an eye on the old man. Don’t worry, he loves doing this.”

Varian nodded and turned to head back to the trap he and Quirin had set. Hector watched him go, a softer smile replacing his carefree grin. Though Varian had initially balked at the idea of letting Quirin go by himself (and Hector could never forget the terror in his eyes when Quirin had went out alone to face the tyrant king, so scared he would lose his father yet again), he had relented when Hector assured him he’d be up in the trees, keeping a watchful eye on everything that happened. Quirin wouldn’t be fully alone, though Hector would have no need to step in. His brother, though not one for theatrics the way Hector was, enjoyed the chase as much as the rest of them. And the excitement that lit his face when he’d suggested this plan was the excitement of a younger man, twenty-five years of jaded bitterness falling away from his shoulders.

Hector followed noiselessly, leaving Riki to stay with Varian and Ruddiger. His eyes met Quirin’s through the softly-waving branches. As they traveled on, a spark raced through Hector’s blood. This was as it should be, their family together again, shoulder to shoulder. This was everything he’d missed all those years alone at the Tree. First with Adira as the Tree fell apart, then again staring down an army with Varian in his arms and his siblings by his side, and now finally feeling the thrill of the hunt, both to protect the village and to track down the thief.

Shortly before the bandits’ camp came into view, Quirin stopped. Kneeling down, he scooped up a handful of dirt, rubbing some on his clothes and face. As Hector watched on in silence, a change came over him; in place of the soldier Quirin, tall and proud with a noble set to his shoulders, there stood before him a weary, frightened villager, clutching the strap of his satchel in trembling fingers. With one last smile in Hector’s direction, he stumbled on unsteady legs towards the camp.

Seven heads looked up at his arrival, conversation halting in its tracks as he sprinted in their direction and abruptly stopped, mouth parting in surprise as his trained eye captured every detail of their campsite. Eight bodies stood frozen.

Quirin took a hesitant step backward, and that was all the Yellowjackets needed. One of them stepped forward, a mock friendly smile splayed across his ugly mug. “Hello there, friend,” he began. “Out for a stroll? It’s dangerous in these parts.”

“I apologize for disturbing you,” Quirin said, adopting the soft accent of the villagers they’d met. “I’ll be on my way.”

“Well we can’t have that, can we? Never know what sort of folk you might run into.” Around them, the bandits began to slowly circle to the sides to hem him in.

“Leave me be,” Quirin ordered.

“Of course, of course… but perhaps you could spare some supplies for travelers such as yourself? Maybe that satchel, then?”

Quirin tensed. His fingers tightened around the leather strap. Taking another step backward, his eyes darted from one man to the next. Spinning around, he ran, darting past the bandits who tried to block his path.

Their leader motioned to his men. “Get him,” he ordered coldly.

They followed after Quirin. Hector followed them.

The chase led them through the woods, Quirin keeping just close enough to his pursuers that they didn’t lose hope of catching him. As he turned his head to see how far back they were, Hector caught sight of the poorly-concealed smile he wore. He was enjoying this, the smug cretin.

The ravine came into sight. A long, winding divot worn out by water and fallen trees, it concealed perfect hiding spots and offered plenty of ambush space. Most importantly, it offered Varian an opportunity to show off his skills.

Quirin jumped down into it, ducking under low-hanging limbs and darting with deceptive lightness around rocks. The bandits followed him in. If Hector had any doubt that every single one was inexperienced, he lost it as the last one descended. They didn’t leave even a single one to follow along the top of the ravine.

Further on, the ravine widened out, leaving a hollow bowl-shaped crater. Quirin stopped in the dead center. The bandits swarmed in behind him. Cold laughs and the ringing of metal on leather filtered up to the trees. Quirin let his satchel fall from his shoulder.

“Nowhere to run now,” their leader cackled.

Out from behind a boulder, Varian stepped. He held out Quirin’s sword, hilt-first. Quirin took it and smiled at Varian. “Thank you, son.”

Hector dropped from the trees behind the bandits, flicking his wrist to release his blade. They whirled around in surprise. His lips curled in a satisfied smirk, sharp canines glinting in the late afternoon light. The bearcats circled the group, snarling and growling.

The head moron recovered from his shock quickly. “It would appear we were expected,” he said. “Did our little friends in the village scrape enough money together to hire some muscle?”

Hector motioned to his bearcats. “Go hunting,” he ordered. “See if anyone else is lurking around.” As they clambered out of the ravine and disappeared, he gave a sweeping bow. “It seems we’ve forgotten to properly introduce ourselves. Sir Hector, of the Brotherhood.” Their faces paled a shade at that.

Quirin bowed next. “Lord Quirin Enlinson, of the Brotherhood.”

Hector gave a small nod to Varian, who took a quick breath and echoed, “Sir Varian, of the Brotherhood.” Crossing one of his short swords over his chest, he bowed as well.

The Yellowjackets shuffled nervously. These few must have heard from their predecessors just what the Brotherhood was and what they were capable of. Hector paced forward a few steps. “And pray tell, are you these fearsome rapscallions that bothered our friends? It’s rather time you moved on, don’t you think? Your work here is done.”

“Is that so? Seems to me there’s seven of us and only three of you.” He cast a scornful glare at Varian. “Well, two and a half.”

“I’ll cut you down to my height,” he threatened.

“If you think you have a chance against us, by all means,” Quirin said. “We’ll be happy to oblige.”

Wisely, the man raised his hands. “We aren’t here for bloodshed, gentlemen. We’ll be on our way.”

Varian nodded to Ruddiger, perched up on the rocks. The raccoon yanked a rope, setting a small tree free from its precarious perch. Varian’s traps were a thing of beauty. How had Hector been so lucky to have such a brilliant, wonderful boy as his sword-son? As the ring of felled trees dropped into their places, forming a barrier over the entrance to the crater and around the edges to prevent exit, a swell of pride rose in his chest. Yes, Varian would be a brilliant knight, a master strategist, and a crowning jewel in the legacy of Queen Val. The largest tree fell, crashing down in the midst of the Yellowjackets, and they scattered to either side— three on Hector’s, and four with Varian and Quirin. 

Hector gave a second mocking bow to their leader. “Shall we, my friends?”

To their credit, they tried their best. They really did. It wasn’t their fault they’d been pitifully trained. As Hector swatted their swords aside and sent each one sprawling into the dirt, he fought back a yawn. They scrambled back up, lunging time and again. Hector crossed his right arm behind his back as he parried their blows. One of them withdrew a whip from his belt, lashing out at his right side. Hector ducked backward, grabbing the end and yanking it forward. As the man stumbled and fell, he brought his knee upward, slamming it into the bandit’s face.

The remaining conscious two circled him warily. Tired of waiting, Hector darted forward, dispatching one with a kick to the side of his head. Then he caught their leader by the throat, pinning him against the fallen tree. 

With wide and panicked eyes, the man rasped out, “First the crazy rock lady, then you freaks! I’m done. Let me live, and I’m out of here! Won’t bother anyone again, honest!”

Hector tensed. Leaning closer to the man, he hissed, “What crazy rock lady?”

O‴O‴O‴

In all honesty, things had been going a bit too smoothly.

But Varian was really working to correct his overly-cynical worldview and think more positively, and he’d allowed himself to believe that things were working in their favor for once.

Two of the bandits rushed for the ravine walls instantly, but the barrier of branches and trees he’d set blocked their path. With no other option, they turned to face their opponents. Quirin engaged three of them in combat, while Varian took the fourth and last.

The man swung a thick club. Varian stepped back, slowly twisting his swords. Centering his mind the way Hector taught him, he ignored the nagging worry that demanded he check on Quirin. His father was fine; he was a knight of the Brotherhood, and these fools were hopelessly outmatched if they thought three was enough to subdue him. Varian, however, was a little less experienced. Tilting his head, he let his bangs fall over his right eye. It was harder to see from this angle, but keeping his head straight and his eye covered concealed his weakness.

He jumped back as the club swooped through the air at his head. Bringing the blade in his left hand up, Varian lunged forward and drove the end at the man’s extended arm. Blood sprang up, staining his shirt and Varian’s sword. Drawing his right hand up, Varian crossed his blades over the man’s wrist. “Drop it,” he hissed.

The heavy club fell to the ground. And so did Varian, as the man’s other fist lashed up and caught him across the cheek. Scrambling up, he instinctively pushed his hair out of his face and lifted his swords again. But now the man carried a thick dagger, swiping haphazardly back and forth. Varian parried each blow, lightly stepping back each time. This man fought nothing like Hector; while his uncle’s movements were lithe and graceful, unpredictable in their water-like flow, this man was all brute force, driving hit after hit in a reckless, erratic manner.

With a quick twist of his wrist, he knocked the knife away. The bandit lunged forward and grabbed his arm, yanking his sword away. Then the cool metal rested against Varian’s throat, his back pressed against a burly chest. He drove his other sword back, and a sharp yell accompanied the tangy scent of blood as it connected with the bandit’s leg. The sharp edge of his other sword dug into his throat, and he stopped moving. “Drop it,” the man echoed his own words.

Gritting his teeth, Varian obeyed. His skin crawled, nerves on fire as he was forced to stand still in the man’s hold. Waves of nausea tore through his abdomen.

Quirin slammed his forehead against one of his own opponent’s face, knocking him to the ground. With a snarl, he whirled around, sword lifted and aimed at Varian’s captor. “I’ll kill you.”

Hector leapt up onto the tree dividing the ravine. In a low crouch, he withdrew a knife from his belt, slowly spinning it in his fingers. “Let go of the kid,” he drawled casually. “This ain’t a fight you’ll win.” Over on the rocks at the edge of the ravine, Ruddiger hissed and spat, his small claws digging into the stones as his back arched.

“Let me go,” the thug ordered. “Or I’ll spill his guts out.” He pressed the sword closer to Varian’s throat, the small hilt disappearing completely in his meaty hand. His other hand wrapped tighter around Varian’s wrist, too much like manacles, too constricting and hard and unmoving and painful and too much like back then, with cold metal and heavy fists on his skin, with sneering guards holding him too tightly—

His eyes met Hector’s; a slight nod from the warrior and a quick cut of his eyes to Varian’s left, where Quirin slowly lowered his sword, holding it loosely in one hand, his other hand by his side. Hector landed lightly on the ground, pacing forward calmly. “You won’t do that,” he said. “You’re not stupid. You’ll let him go, and you’ll walk away. Or you’ll end up like your pals here.”

“Don’t think I won’t!” The man’s hand shook. “You don’t wanna see the kid get hurt, you back up!”

Hector lifted his hands placidly. “Calm down. I just— oh, Adira, finally!” He glanced over to his left.

The thug turned to see, the sword drifting away from Varian’s neck. Varian dove to the left, nearly wrenching his arm from its socket. Quirin’s left hand grabbed the back of Varian’s shirt as his right fist slammed into the arm still holding Varian’s wrist. Hector’s sword flashed above their heads.

Something hot seeped into Varian’s clothes, splattering across his skin, dripping down his hair and under his collar. It covered the side of his face, gathering between his lips and in his ear and under his eyelid. The scents of copper and salt drowned out his senses, flooding him in a field of red, red, red, red—

Then familiar yellow eyes entered his field of vision, and gloved hands hovered in front of him before drifting away to push Quirin’s hands off of him. A soft, raspy voice murmured softly, like it was trying to calm a skittish creature. “That’s it, you’re safe, there you go. You did good, kid. That was good. I’m so proud of you.”

Muffled sobs echoed in his ears, half-choked through breathless lungs. His throat ached. Was that him crying, then? Why? He was fine, and Hector was proud of him, even though he’d lost a fight to an untrained thug and been used as leverage against his family, and even though he was kneeling on the ground covered in someone else’s blood. And the blood was in his mouth, and on his clothes, and staining his skin, but it wasn’t his blood this time, so that was better, right? Wasn’t it?

Hector’s voice still shushed and whispered soft encouragement, while a gentle purring sounded near Varian’s knees. A furry body brushed up against him, hesitant and gentle; when he didn’t move, it pressed in further, the soft rumbling vibrating up his legs.

“Hector,” Quirin’s strained voice came from somewhere off to the side. It held an odd note of helplessness. Varian frowned. Quirin was never helpless; he always seemed to know exactly what needed to be done. Then maybe he’d misunderstood; maybe it was stress? Or frustration. Yeah, he got frustrated a lot. But that wasn’t his frustrated voice.

“We need cloth and water,” Hector ordered. “It’ll do until we can get him over to the river and get him cleaned up properly.”

“I’ll head back to the camp. Anything else? Oh, clothes, we’ll need more clothes.” He stood and climbed up onto the fallen tree, walking up the trunk to get out of the ravine. Varian watched him go, a steady and familiar throbbing in his chest as the man’s broad back disappeared into the forest.

“Hey, let’s get this off, yeah?” Hector’s hands lifted slightly, a cloth held in one. “Can I touch your face?”

Varian gave a jerky nod.

The cloth rested against his cheek, brushing slowly back and away. It slipped between his lips, clearing the acrid taste away. “There we go, got most of it. We’ll get you all cleaned up when Quirin gets back. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean for that to get all over you. Just… had to get him away from you. You’re okay, right? Not hurt?”

Varian shrank away from his hands. His fingers dug into the fabric of his cloak, drawing it tightly around his shoulders. Sidling backward, he leaned his back against a large rock, drawing his knees up to his chest. Tremors ran up and down his frame, his muscles drawn and tight. His chest burned. How he longed to beg Hector to look away, to stop staring at him in such concern, to stop bearing witness to his weakness! For that’s all this was, his weakness, all the proof they needed that Varian was no knight. He was no soldier. He was barely an acolyte, afraid of blood, unable to hold his own. The weak link in the chain. A disgrace to the lineage of Queen Val.

How long he sat lost in his own mind, he couldn’t quite tell, but then Hector was kneeling in front of him again, a clean rag in his hand. “Let’s get the rest of this off, okay? You’ll feel better then.”

Varian didn’t move as the rag touched his skin. Cool water trickled down his skin from the fabric. Hector worked slowly, speaking to let him know what he was going to do before he made any movement. A gentle hand tipped his head back as the rag glided over his hair, working the blood loose from his braid and bangs. When Hector was finished, he gave a slight tug to Varian’s shirtsleeve. “Wanna get this off and get some clean clothes on?”

He shot a quick glance over to Quirin, who once again knelt nearby with an open canteen in his hands.

His father stood. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he offered. Varian’s breaths came a bit easier at that as Quirin paced a few steps away, turning away from them.

He let Hector help him out of the shirt. Once they’d gotten the blood off his shoulder and arm, he slipped on the spare. It was one of his longer-sleeved tunics. A sudden warmth sprang up in his chest at Quirin’s thoughtfulness.

From over the tree barrier, Adira arrived, hopping down into the ravine. She paused, taking in the bodies strewn across the ground and the state of her family. “What the dickens happened here?”

A short laugh broke from Varian’s chest at her use of Hector’s slang.

“I leave you people alone for one hour,” she grumbled, sitting next to Hector. “Can’t let them do anything. Hector, you imbecile, if you broke my favorite nephew, I’ll break your legs.”

“Hey,” he growled back. “Wasn’t my fault.” Then, with a thoughtful hum, he tacked on, “Actually… no, not really my fault, just… by proxy?”

“I’ll break your legs by proxy, then.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

She ignored him and drew something from her bag. “Varian, malysh , take a look at this and tell me if it’s what I think it is.”

Varian lifted his head and blinked languidly. In her hands, she held a scroll, unrolled and faced towards him. Leaning closer, he examined the careful, small script. “That’s… That’s Demanitus’s writing!” he gasped. “That’s his code!” Sitting up straighter, he reached out and took the scroll. “Hm. Pretty scattered notes, nothing really definitive. Not like his usual work. But it’s scratch paper, I think. Notes about the incantations. Mostly… yeah, this one’s all about the Moonstone. Not a full incantation, just guesses and notes. Where did you get this?”

“How did you do that?” Hector muttered under his breath, shooting Adira a mock glare.

She gave him a smug smile in return. As Quirin rejoined them, she explained her trip to intercept the caravan. “The scrolls were in a locked box headed for Corona,” she informed them. “Not sure who requested them, but they were originally from Galcrest.”

“Well.” Hector stood. “That explains a lot. And now we know what our friends here were after.”

“Do tell,” Adira hummed.

“Their head idiot— who, by the way, is tied up over there— mentioned a ‘crazy rock lady’. Sound familiar? Said she hired them to do a job for her. Get something from the caravan. So now we know what she wants. And Varian was right.”

“‘Course I was.” Varian lowered the scroll. “About what?”

“The handmaiden can’t control the Moonstone’s power. She needs more information, more incantations. Until then, she’s just a kid with a weapon she don’t understand. So now’s the perfect time to take it from her.”

Varian nodded. “Of course! Agh, stupid, stupid! I told her— I told her about the third and fourth incantations! Back in the Dark Kingdom. She knows the third one’s on the scroll! But we have it, and she can’t get to it, so she’ll do the next best thing, which is to find the rest of Demanitus’s notes and figure out how to translate them like I did. Or hope that some of them are written in a language she can read.” His mouth opened in a soundless gasp. Of course! He should have guessed it weeks ago. “And… Oh. I know where she’ll go next.”

Chapter Text

Mumbling to herself, Arianna didn’t see Captain Bartholomew until he cleared his throat. Looking up from her paper, she gave an involuntary flinch. “Ah, Captain, I apologize. My mind was elsewhere.”

The captain smiled. “Your mind was about to take you headfirst down that staircase,” he warned. “When I told our friends I’d protect you, I didn’t think that meant from the architecture.”

She gave a quick laugh and glanced at the staircase in front of her. Rolling up her paper, she tucked it into the sash around her waist and clasped her hands neatly in front of her. “Never fear, I’ve learned my lesson. Thank you for your noble effort.”

His smile turned to a frown of concern. “You’ve been distracted lately. Is this about the trade deal with Italy?”

Arianna glanced around. The ornate hall stood empty of all save themselves, but one could never be too careful. “I’m experiencing a bit of resistance. This isn’t like trade within the Seven Kingdoms. I’ve never had to spearhead a negotiation like this before, and if I try to approach the topic in my own name, they’ll ask why Frederic isn’t leading this discussion. But if I go to Frederic first, he’ll want to know why I’m taking this over instead of letting him do it.”

“Is there anyone else who usually does this?”

“Not for trade deals outside the Seven Kingdoms Alliance. Only Frederic, the Secretary of Commerce, or the Treasurer.”

Bartholomew stroked his mustache. “The Secretary of Commerce might be willing to help, if you ask him the right way. He might open the deal in his own name and title.”

“That could work. If I pose it as a suggestion for him to review, he could take the lead without needing approval from Frederic. From there, I can offer my own insights and request a position on the negotiation committee. Thank you, Captain.”

He nodded. Then he stiffened, head turning to the stairs. Arianna followed his gaze to see Frederic heading their way. As he reached their level, he nodded to the captain and graced Arianna with one of his softer smiles. “My dear. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”

“Not at all!” She answered. “We were just finishing up.”

“What were you discussing? Perhaps I can help.”

Captain Bartholomew stepped to the side so they could speak in private, though he kept his gaze on them. Arianna kept her own false smile fixed on her face as she answered, “I actually do have a request of you. The Solstice Festival is in two weeks. I’d like to be responsible for it this year.”

“I see. That’s a rather large undertaking. Are you sure it won’t be too much for you?”

“I think it would do me good. I’d like to be a bit more active in the community, and this seems like a good way to start.”

“Why the Solstice Festival? You’ve never acted as the Master of Ceremonies for it before.”

With a small shrug, she answered, “Now that Rapunzel is home, I’m feeling… hopeful. I think the future of this kingdom is brighter than it’s ever been. She gave me that hope back. In the past, the queen has been primarily responsible for hosting ceremonies and festivals, so I’d like to try.”

He nodded sagely. “Of course, of course. It would make a nice change of pace, and I think the people would appreciate it. They love you. And if I may be a bit selfish, I’ll enjoy having one less thing to do.” He took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “It’s good to see you like this. Happier. More… engaged. You’ve got your spirit back.”

Arianna allowed a genuine smile to cross her face this time. Happier? Absolutely not; not since she’d realized just whom she’d naïvely married. But her spirit? Most assuredly. Rapunzel had brought light back into her life, and Varian had taught her the meaning of resolve. Two children, as different as day and night, each with their own lessons to teach. They were the future. They were the hope of the kingdom; Rapunzel as their soon-to-be queen, and Varian as a needed reminder of the darkness they’d allowed to go unchecked for twenty years. Both with burdens too heavy for their shoulders, both with scars that would never fully heal. And both still fighting for their futures and their families.

And she would fight for them. As long as it took, until they were both free.

O‴O‴O‴

“I don’t know him, Hector.”

Hector rubbed the blade of his sword with a cloth. “So get to know him. He doesn’t really know himself either.”

Quirin rested his head in his hands. “It’s not that simple. It’s not like meeting someone new. He’s my son. I have to unlearn everything I already knew.”

Putting the blade away, Hector leaned back on his hands and turned his watchful gaze to Varian. He knelt at the edge of the creek with Adira, deep in meditation. Though part of him longed to run to his boy’s side, he was grateful that Adira had taken over this time; she understood the pain of touch, the need for distant company, for someone to be there but not to be close. As much as it pained him, he was unable to remain objective and calm at the moment; if he alone were responsible for Varian, he would be far too likely to make a quick movement or offer a comforting touch and scare Varian worse. Yes, Adira was who Varian needed right now. And he needed Quirin too, whether or not either of them realized it.

“I had to learn a lot in the first few weeks,” he offered. “I messed up, a lot. Even now, I don’t get it all right. Family isn’t supposed to be perfect, though. It’s messy and awkward and sometimes it hurts like the dickens.” He fixed Quirin with a hard stare. “But we keep trying. You and Adira didn’t give up on me. And Varian never gave up on you. I know you’ll keep trying, for his sake.”

“And if I mess up?”

“When you mess up, you make up for it and keep going.” He gave a half-smile. “Remember the first time we fought the Yellowjackets?”

Quirin frowned deeply. “You almost died.”

“I was in that situation because of my own insecurities. You and Adira had no reason to help me. We weren’t family then. And we definitely didn’t understand each other. But you came to get me anyways. After all our arguing and rivalry, you coulda left me, let me deal with the actions of my consequences myself. But you went after me instead.” He cut a sharp glance in Quirin’s direction. “Admittedly, you did it in the stupidest way possible. Thank the stars Var didn’t inherit your brain.”

Quirin gave a wry laugh. “I was a strategist, once upon a time.”

“Well you weren’t then, and you ain’t anymore.”

“I get what you’re saying. I’m just… afraid to make it worse. I don’t want to hurt him any more than he already is. We hurt each other a lot back then.”

“And then we had the good years. But you think I’ve never hurt him? It was just a few months ago I thought I lost him for good thanks to my own stupidity. One lost temper. Lost control. It took a while for him to forgive me, but he’s got a big heart. Trust me; being distant will only hurt him worse. What’s brought this on, anyways? I thought you and him talked it out.”

“We did. But seeing him like that… he was brilliant out there, Hector! I never dreamed he’d be able to do everything you’ve taught him. And you’re right; that’s my own fault. I didn’t train him. But then, when he… When he was sitting there, covered in all that blood. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to make it worse. But you knew.”

“You learn with time. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing the first few times. It’s all trial and error. I caused him a few panic attacks myself.”

Down by the creek, Varian and Adira stood. Hector looked them over and gave an appraising nod. Varian had shrunk in on himself again, arms wrapped around his chest, but he held his head high, a firm set to his jaw. The two approached Hector and Quirin, settling on the ground in front of them.

“Cassandra is heading for the Great Tree,” Varian began abruptly. Pulling a map from his bag, he laid it out in front of them. “She’s up north right now. You said the Yellowjackets usually work around there. She recruited them to attack the caravan and get the manuscripts. But when she finds out they failed, she’ll go with her second option: going back to the Tree and trying to find the scrolls.”

“Why didn’t she just do that first?” Hector asked.

“Too dangerous. The Tree is unstable, there’s the vines and the spear and all the creepy magicky-science stuff, and last time she was there, you broke her arm. Also, it’s an area we’re more familiar with, so we have the advantage of terrain. All that combined with the caravan that conveniently held some of Demanitus’s works there for the taking, and it’s the more logical plan overall to try that route first and leave the Tree as a secondary plan.”

Adira pointed on the map. “We can stick to our original plan to head north at the Pittsford border. We’ll bypass the Forest of No Return that way, then take the canyons north. If we keep further west, we can circle around the Great Tree at the mountains and reach the Northern Plains in a month.”

“It’s risky, but it could work.” Quirin nodded. “Great work, Varian.”

Varian’s eyes widened. “Oh, um— thanks! Simple process of elimination, really, it wasn’t anything special—”

“And yet the three of us didn’t think of it. You did that.”

He blushed slightly but nodded.

Hector glanced over to Quirin out of the corner of his eye and gave a slight nod. Tension bled from his brother’s shoulders, as if a simple interaction not ending in an argument or panic attack was enough to prove to him that his effort was not in vain. That the road ahead of them would be difficult, but the prize at the end was worth it. And, perhaps most importantly, that Varian would see his actions, hear his words, and take them for what they were: an offered hand of reconciliation.

O‴O‴O‴

“Never thought I’d see the day.” Hector rolled his eyes. “Now I can’t talk about you to Adira without you knowing.” Varian grinned up at him and shrugged.

“Gonna help me out or just sit there and watch?” He waved his hand at the mess of papers in front of him, written in the language of the Dark Kingdom. The Old Tongue. Ruddiger had gotten bored and fallen asleep, snoring loudly next to a pile of apple cores.

“Give me that.” Hector sat across from him and pulled one of the papers closer. “More homework from Quirin?”

“You think he’s trying to punish me or something?”

Up until this point, Quirin’s lessons had been primarily in mapmaking. Now they’d moved on to languages. Though Varian had begged to learn all of the languages Quirin spoke at once, the answer had been a firm no. So they’d settled on studying the Old Tongue first. (And if Varian had managed to convince Hector to teach him Spanish in the meantime, well, Quirin didn’t need to know that.)

Hector looked over the paper he’d taken. “Hmm. Did you already memorize the script?”

Varian pointed to a paper with his own handwriting. “Yeah. But some of the letters sound pretty similar to each other, so I’m trying to remember which is which.”

“It’ll get easier when you learn how to use them in full words.”

They labored over the papers for a while longer until Hector looked up at the position of the sun. “They oughta be back with food pretty soon. Let’s get a fire going.”

They’d elected to take the day a bit slower than their usual pace; after their last fight, they’d pressed on hard, but even Kiki and Riki were beginning to show signs of their exhaustion. After Hector and Adira had finished their interrogation, the townsfolk had offered to take care of transporting the bandits to the nearest larger city, where they’d be locked up and prosecuted. With nothing left to do, they’d said their farewells and left the town, headed northeast toward Pittsford. They’d traveled for nearly a week before stopping for a break.

Varian watched Hector as he built up the fire. The tension between him and Quirin had settled some, easing into a peaceful sort of camaraderie, but now something else dodged Hector’s footsteps, brought dark circles to his eyes, kept him up late into the night staring at the moon. Initially, he’d suspected it was Cassandra’s theft. But when he rolled over in his blankets and found Hector’s yellow eyes watching him, took the wordless admonition to go back to sleep, he began to rethink his theory.

Hector was upset because of him.

Hector was losing sleep because of him.

And he had a terrible hypothesis why. This had all started just under a week ago, after an ill-fated fight that left him drenched in someone else’s blood. Shaking like a leaf, weak-kneed and sobbing, unable to stand the feel of Hector’s hands on his arms. He’d watched as Hector shrank away from him, fighting his own instincts to reach forward, fighting himself in order to cater to Varian’s pathetic mood swings. Now he had to constantly be on guard, readjusting his every behavior and analyzing his every word. Varian had made his life that much harder.

He absentmindedly rubbed the back of his gloved hand. It had been mere weeks since he’d taken his oath, taken his place in Queen Val’s lineage. In the centuries since the Brotherhood’s very creator, had anyone in her line been nearly as tragic as him? He couldn’t imagine Hector acting this way. A little blood was nothing for a warrior of his skill set; Hector moved and breathed like blood was as common outside him as it was inside. Perhaps it was.

Across the fireplace, Hector sharpened some more stakes. His hands gripped the handle of his knife like it was a part of him. Maybe in his mind, it was. Just like his sword. His gauntlet blade was a work of wonder, and he wielded it like an artist wielded a paintbrush. This life suited him.

And Varian had only been given a glimpse into that life. There was still so much he was missing. Hector spoke entire languages that Varian had never heard of. He’d fought enemies he refused to talk about. He’d shared much about his past, but it was always with a guarded eye toward making sure it was something suitable for Varian to hear. There was so much about Hector he didn’t know still.

Did he know him at all?

“Stop that.”

“Huh?” he jolted up.

Hector gave a half-smile. “You’re thinking too loud. It’s giving me a headache. What’s got that big brain of yours in a twist?”

“Nothing.”

“Nice try.”

“Nothing,” he echoed. “Seriously, I’m fine. Just… thinking through some verb conjugations.”

“And verb conjugations got you rubbing your hand? Is the tattoo hurting again?” Hector leaned forward. “I can get you some medicine for it. Don’t irritate it.”

“It’s not— it’s fine.”

With a deep sigh, Hector set his stakes aside and stood. “Alright. Fine. Let’s spar.”

“Huh?”

“Always helps me when I get lost in my head. Let’s spar. We could both use the practice.” He slid his gloves off and set them beside his bags. Riki and Kiki looked up from their sleep pile and blinked slowly, then curled up and drifted off again. Hector tossed his cloak over Kiki’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go.”

Varian shrugged and stood. “I said I’m fine. Really, was just… thinking.”

“Nah, thinking is bad for your health.”

“And fighting isn’t?” He rolled his eyes and took off his own cloak, slipping into a defensive position.

Hector moved first, his foot flying towards Varian’s head. Ducking under the blow, Varian lunged forward, but Hector brought the same leg back up, blocking Varian’s hit with his knee. “Come on, kid, gotta be quicker than that. What’s the matter, got lead in your boots?”

Varian went on the defensive, nimbly dancing around the fire and slipping his dual blades out of their sheathes. Spinning one blade in his hand so it rested backwards, he slid one foot back and rested his weight on the balls of his feet.

“Oh come on,” Hector groaned. “We talked about this. That’s a terrible way to hold— Agh!” He stumbled back, Ruddiger’s paws clamped firmly over his eyes.

Varian lunged forward, planting his foot firmly behind Hector’s leg. With a startled yelp, Hector hit the ground. Ruddiger rolled off unscathed while Varian placed the edge of his sword against Hector’s throat. “Checkmate.”

Hector blinked up at him. “I guess it is. Not bad, kiddo.” He sat up as Varian moved his sword. “That was quicker than I expected. Proud of you. How’d you do that?”

Varian brushed sweat from his forehead. The fight had hardly lasted thirty seconds. He’d managed a win or two against Hector before— usually when Hector was holding himself back or intentionally leaving openings to exploit— but he’d never managed to trick him like that before! Cheeks aflame, he scuffed the toe of his boot into the dirt. “I remembered what you said about fighting dirty. Ruddiger and I came up with a system of signals to help each other. So when I turn my sword backward like that, he jumps my opponent and covers their eyes.”

“That’s brilliant!” Hector stood. “Just when I think I got you figured out, you do something like that and surprise me all over again.” His eyes glowed with a proud gleam, smile lines etching into the corners. In light of his genuine happiness, Varian wilted, lowering his head so his eyes locked onto the dirt. He didn’t want to see that look. He didn’t want to see the thrill of pride in Hector’s eyes, like a burning candle that would be snuffed out with the first storm of Varian’s failure.

“Hey.” A hand tapped his chin, tilting his head back up. “You’re doing it again. Are we gonna hafta spar again or are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

He pulled away from Hector’s hand, pretending not to notice the way it lingered in the air for a few seconds before lowering back to his side. “I told you, I’m fine. It’s nothing.” He put his swords away and sat down by the fire again. Pulling an apple out of his bag, he tossed it to Ruddiger, who sat by his feet to enjoy his well-earned reward. “I just like to think, that’s all.”

Hector nodded. “Point taken. I won’t push.” Sitting on the other side, he pulled his braids loose and began retwisting them. “Kay, gimme the past tense conjugations for ‘to read.’”

Varian raised an eyebrow but complied. “Yo leí, tú leíste, él leyó, nosotros leímos, vosotros leísteis, ellos leyeron.”

“Good, now ‘to write.’”

“Yo escribe, tú escribiste, él escribió, nosotros escribimos, vosotros escribisteis, ellos escribieron.”

Hector tossed out a few more verbs. Varian answered absentmindedly, letting the familiar routine push some of his worries away from the front of his mind. This, he could do. Learn, memorize, adapt. Find an answer, finish a puzzle.

The tension in his muscles eased. In the twilight, listening to the fire crack and pop in front of him, with Ruddiger purring happily beside him, a gentle peace settled on his shoulders like a warm blanket. How Hector did it, Varian had no idea; this was another mystery of his, one that Hector worked to his advantage time and time again. A word here, a joke there, and sometimes a spar; he had a knack for pulling Varian out of his own head when the thoughts grew too heavy.

With that weight lessened, words came to his tongue easier. “Hey, Uncle Hector?”

“Yeah?” Hector glanced over at him and then turned his gaze back to one of his braids, twisted down in front of his face at the moment.

“Did you ever feel like you didn’t belong with the Brotherhood?”

Rather than give a quick, snappy answer like he’d expected, Hector hummed and thought for a moment. “Hard to say. I think— yeah, there was a time, towards the beginning. We didn’t know how to be a team. We were three knights trying to be just that— three knights. We forgot the Brotherhood was supposed to be a whole. And there was me, stuck running after the two of them, trying to prove I was as good and as skilled as them. A street rat living off Edmund’s charity, half-feral and foul-mouthed. Yeah, when Talya chose me, I thought she was off her rocker. Not sure anyone expected us to make it.”

“What changed?”

Hector looked past him. Varian turned to see Adira and Quirin approaching the camp. They set a string of rabbits down by the fire, along with a bag of foraged mushrooms and herbs. Adira wordlessly passed the bag to Varian, along with a small knife and a bowl. Nodding, he began dicing the mushrooms while she sorted her herbs into jars. Quirin set to work skinning and preparing the game.

Adira set the herbs down and glanced over to Hector, a wordless question in her eyes. He slowly nodded. She stood and moved behind him, bringing up her hands to gently card her fingers through his hair. Separating out the sections, she began braiding. Hector closed his eyes and exhaled, his sinewy muscles relaxing as he allowed her ministration. Adira’s posture didn’t change, but a soft smile found its way to her face.

“We did,” Hector murmured softly.

O‴O‴O‴

Late in the night, after the third watch, Artemis swooped low into the camp. She settled on a low-hanging branch, her dark eyes glimmering in the moonlight. She gave a low call, barely loud enough to be heard and certainly not loud enough to wake the sleeping soldiers. Hector looked up, nodding to her, and she dropped from the branch to land on his arm. He untied the string around her leg and uncurled the paper.

With each word written on the small scrap, a cold anger grew in his chest.

He clenched his fist, crumpling the paper. Then he shoved it into his pocket, scowling deeply.

The rest of his watch passed without incident.

Chapter Text

“It changes nothing. We keep moving.”

“We can’t leave them like this.” Quirin shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

Hector shook his head. “We don’t even know where they’re going. They may leave the area. Our mission doesn’t change.”

From underneath his blankets, Varian yawned and stretched. “Whaz gon on?”

Hector picked up his bag and swung it over Kubwa’s back. “Mornin’, sleepyhead. We got word from the townsfolk. The Yellowjackets escaped and went on the run. Least, the ones who’re still alive. Not sure what their heading is, but we can’t stick around to find out.” As Varian shot upright, Hector held up a hand. “Calm down, they ain’t nowhere close. And if they were, we already kicked their—” He glanced over at Quirin. “We already kicked their butts once.”

He'd expected Varian to take the news with trepidation. Instead, his eyes narrowed as he scrambled to his feet. “Then we gotta go find them.”

Pride swelled in Hector’s chest. Varian may have gotten his strategic mind from Quirin, but he got his tenacity and spunk from Hector. It was exactly what he would have done in his younger years. Now, though… “We can’t,” he said. “We need to keep moving. We have our first real lead on Miss Sticky Fingers, and we can’t afford to lose it.”

“But we can’t let them get away!”

Adira put out the fire. “We have to, I’m afraid. I agree with Hector. We can’t stop to take care of every conflict that comes up on our way.”

“But— aren’t we supposed to help those in need?”

Her smile was tinged with sadness as she straightened and brushed his unruly bangs away from his face. “Malysh, I wish we could help everyone, but right now, we can help them best by stopping Short Hair. If we don’t, they’re all in greater danger. Understand?”

He reluctantly nodded. “I guess I get it. It just feels so… so wrong. Leaving people who need help just because there’s more important things to do.”

Hector winced. In that moment, he felt lower than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe. Kneeling down in front of his kid, he put a hand on his shoulder. “Var, kid. It’s not the same. Those villagers, they’ll take care of each other. Brenneson’s a good man. He’ll look after them. ‘Kay? We’re not the same as those Coronans that left you. We ain’t shirking responsibility. We do actually have bigger problems.”

“I know,” he conceded, scuffing his boot against the ground.

Hector nodded. “Good. You got nothing to feel bad for. Now pack up and let’s move.”

Varian obeyed, if reluctantly. Hector turned and finished sorting his own equipment. Within minutes, the only sign of their respite in the small glade was the bare spot where the fire had been. They mounted up and took off.

Rather than ride with Hector, Varian took Kiki and pointedly ran on Quirin’s other side. Hector shook his head and sighed. Varian had every reason to want to stay and fight; he understood that. Going to the village had affected him deeper than Hector had thought. Naturally, he would see their plight and remember his own, would want to do everything to help the unfortunates there. And if Hector thought Brenneson was anything other than a good man and a good leader, he would’ve agreed to stay and track down the Yellowjackets again. But this wasn’t Corona, and Brenneson wasn’t a royal. They would be fine. Varian would see that in time.

Until then, it was Hector’s responsibility to guide him right. His past behavior was no example for Varian to follow. Varian needed more than the impulsive and reckless person he used to be.

O‴O‴O‴

 They pushed on hard after that, reaching the Graystone Cliffs by nightfall. Varian took over caring for the animals while Adira scouted and Hector and Quirin set up camp. He worked a brush gently through Aurora’s mane, softly speaking a few of the words he’d learned of the Old Tongue. She nudged him with her head, her breaths ruffling his hair.

Quirin finished setting up and joined Varian. He ran a hand over the mark on Aurora’s face and offered her an apple. “Making friends?”

“Who raised her?”

Quirin winked. “That’s a secret. I didn’t burn all my bridges when I left home. Now Aurora, here… she’s never been to our home, but she’s pure Dark Kingdom blood. She’ll do well in the harsher climate.”

Ruddiger, unsatisfied with the lack of attention he was getting, scampered up onto Aurora’s back. She gave a warning glare over her shoulder but didn’t remove him. Varian laughed and took the second apple Quirin offered, holding it out to his oldest friend. “Easy, bud, there’s plenty to go around.”

“It’s nice,” Quirin spoke softly. “Having a large family again. I’d almost forgotten how much I missed this. These last few weeks have been… nice. Speaking the Old Tongue again. Fighting alongside my siblings.” He gave a wistful smile toward Varian, one the latter was never quite sure how to translate. It was somewhere between proud and nostalgic. Quirin slowly lifted a hand, resting it against Varian’s shoulder when he didn’t pull away. “You did this. You did what I couldn’t. I spent years thinking of how I could repair the damage I caused, only to deem it impossible.”

“The damage you caused?”

He nodded. “I chose to walk away from the Brotherhood, to break my oath. In so doing, I hurt the people closest to me. I wanted more than just to live. I wanted a life. You and your mother, you were that life. You’re the greatest blessing I’ve ever known. I don’t regret falling in love or building a family. I just regret hurting my brother and sister, for keeping you out of their lives for so long.” He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Was he imagining the life they could have all had together, or was he remembering the shared pain of their parting? When he opened them again, he reached up, brushing his thumb along the three lines of paint under Varian’s right eye. The crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he gave a warm smile. “I truly am so proud of you, my boy. I don’t say it enough, but I am.”

Varian ducked his head, letting his bangs fall over his eye. This change in Quirin was still so new. If Hector was hard to get used to, this was worse, because at least he had nothing to compare Hector to. But he’d be lying if he tried to say the words didn’t reach down to a frozen corner of his heart, thawing out the shields he’d put up to keep himself safe. Hector’s approval, he could fight for, because he knew it would be freely given (deserved or not). Quirin’s approval was so much harder to gain, and having it openly bestowed rattled his previously-solid understanding of how their relationship worked.

“Even though I didn’t stand up to Hector?” he mumbled. “We both wanted to stay and help. I could’ve sided with you.”

“Even then,” Quirin answered.

Varian stepped away from Quirin’s hands, leaning against a nearby tree and flicking out his claws to examine the blades. “Then… when am I supposed to listen to you, and when do I listen to him? You’re my dad, but he’s my sword-father. Do I have to side with him?”

Quirin hummed and settled on the ground nearby. “That’s an interesting point. We’ve never had a situation quite like this, so it’s hard to say. There will be times you’ll need to listen to me, times you’ll need to listen to Hector, and times you’ll need to trust yourself and lean on your own instincts and training. All that comes with experience. The three of us rarely agree on anything; the one thing we all agree on completely, though, is that we want you to be safe. I believe Hector was adamant we keep moving because we almost lost you to the Yellowjackets. While you’ll be in considerably more danger should Cassandra decide to attack us, right now, he’s more worried about the most present threat. Hector had some good points. Ultimately, our bigger mission is to stop Cassandra. He has always been focused on the mission… sometimes to an unhealthy degree. Adira and I tend to balance his fervor with a more level-headed approach. It’s why I wanted you to go—”

He stopped suddenly, bowing his head.

“What is it?” Varian asked. “Wanted me to go where?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Quirin answered with a forced smile. “It’s over. What’s done is done.”

Varian tensed, shoulders hunched. “Wh— you can’t just say something like that and then shut down again! Where did you want me to go?”

“It’s irrelevant now.”

“Irrel— No, seriously, is this about the amber? Where could I have gone? I had no one! Nothing!” Varian gritted his teeth. After all this time, Quirin still wouldn’t speak to him honestly. He had been perfectly willing to say everything he had about being proud— if that was true and not just a means of placating him— but he clammed up at random. “The note you wrote. I couldn’t read it, but it looked longer than what you said. What did you write?” At Quirin’s reluctant sigh, Varian stepped away from the tree and sat next to him. “I don’t want you to just be proud of me, Dad. I want you to trust me. Is that asking too much?”

Quirin gave a small smile, tinged with the weight of memories long since laid to rest. “No, I suppose not. Forgive me, Varian. It’s still not easy to talk about. I look at you, and instead of seeing the young man you’ve become, I still see the little boy I raised all those years. It’s not easy to know I missed so much of your life. But our family relies on trust, and I can’t deny you that which I freely give to the others.” He took a steadying breath, steepling his fingers in front of his face as he closed his eyes. Opening them again, he continued, “I told you I’d written that I wanted you to find your family. I lied. I’d written that I wanted you to go to Adira. I gave instructions for how you could find her. I knew she’d keep you safe, even if that meant keeping you far away from all this.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “The Brotherhood, the Dark Kingdom, it’s not all it used to be. Things grew dark for us. I trust Hector, and I would place my life in his hands in a second. I have, many times. But when I knew I was leaving you alone, it was Adira whom I planned to entrust you to.”

Varian couldn’t speak. He looked away, staring down at the ground. Quirin had wanted him to know about Adira. He had wanted him to find her, had trusted her to keep him safe and away from this conflict. He’d even given instructions on how to reach her. And all of it meant nothing; he’d lost himself to grief, suffered under the king’s tyranny, and become the villain they all expected him to be.

And underneath all that was the ringing truth that Quirin still didn’t want him around Hector. Sure, he trusted Hector with his life. But not with his son’s life. When push came to shove, he decided Hector wasn’t good enough.

A soft scoff came from the edge of the clearing. “I’d’a done the same.” Varian spun to see Hector standing nearby, brushing beads of sweat from his forehead.

He gave an unconcerned shrug. “Twenty-five years ago, I wouldn’t have left me in charge of a kid, either. I was… a different person back then. Angrier. Less careful.” He sat on the ground next to Quirin. “I regret my part in what happened between us. I made a lot of mistakes. Said things I can’t take back.”

“We all did,” Quirin answered. “I regret it, too.”

Leaning on Quirin’s shoulder, Hector shrugged. “Well, here’s to character development. I’m willing to try again if you are.”

“Always.” He ran the fingers of one hand through Hector’s braids, close to his scalp. “I was never angry about it.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Adira. Speaking of, when’s she supposed to be back?”

Varian stared between the two of them. For as often as his family talked like this, how did it catch him off-guard every time? Their history was something he couldn’t touch, couldn’t fix, despite Quirin’s claims. They went from sword-brothers to bitter enemies and back again in the span of seconds. Was this just a sibling thing? “So… are you two… okay now?”

Quirin’s nose wrinkled up as he smiled. It was so different from his typical exhausted, placating smile so often received by both the royals and Varian alike, and somehow much more genuine. And different from his wistful, nostalgic smile too. It was somewhere between annoyance and fondness. For someone who so rarely smiled before, seeing this many different types of expressions was like going outside for the first time and seeing the stars. “We’ll be okay,” Quirin promised. “Family is complicated. We may argue or even stop talking, but we never stop loving each other.”

“Now we don’t always like each other,” Hector added. “That’s a whole other story. There’s a lot of days I don’t like y’all. ‘Cept for you, V.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Quirin assured him.

Adira coughed and hopped down from a tree branch. “As touching as this is— and I share your sentiment, Hector— change of plans. Get packed up. We’re less than ten miles behind Short Hair. Varian was right; she went north, then cut back east to try to reach the Great Tree. If we hurry, we can catch up tonight.”

Springing to their feet, they broke camp quickly. Varian’s heart thudded in his ears as he packed up the saddlebags. Stroking the bearcats’ ears, he offered them some apples. “Sorry, boys. You up for another run tonight?” They snorted and pressed against his hands, teeth gleaming as they playfully nipped at his clothes. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He swung up on Kiki’s back. Ruddiger hopped up behind him.

They doused the fire and took off into the night. Overhead, the full moon lit their way, forging a path for them through the rockland. Varian watched the sky, trusting Kiki to wind the way through the bluffs and chalkface. Artemis soared overhead, tracking Adira as she led the way. The stars glimmered above, constellations that Varian had watched for years and that had taken on new meaning under Hector’s tutelage. Would Cassandra stop moving during the night? Or did the Moonstone allow her a renewed vigor? It had done something for her hand, at least, given that she had wielded Adira’s sword with the once-broken limb. Perhaps it increased her physical stamina as well? Edmund said the Moonstone blessed her sworn protectors, which accounted for the Brotherhood’s seeming longevity, so would that same power be given to someone who stole the Moonstone? Doubtful, but nothing was beyond the realm of possibility, especially for something that hadn’t been properly studied—

 He shook himself from the line of thinking and turned his attention to Artemis’ flight again as she veered left. If they caught up to Cassandra any time soon, he might just find his theories tested in the worst possible way.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector ran his hand over the edge of a black rock. “They’re wrong,” he murmured softly. “What is she doing?”

They’d come across the rocks an hour into the trip. An encouraging sign they were going in the right direction, Hector was nonetheless taken aback by the warped energy emanating from the structures. He’d stopped to check, finding his fears realized as he took in the sensation. While the energy of the Moonstone and the rocks was familiar to him—dangerous, but familiar—this was something more, something… angrier. As if the rocks themselves were screaming out at the injustice of being forced into submission.

“Huh?” Varian came up beside him. “What do you mean?”

“Feel this.” He took Varian’s hand and placed it against the rock. “Can you tell?”

Varian’s brows scrunched as he concentrated. “They feel… I don’t know. What are they supposed to feel like?”

Hector winced. Of course, Varian hadn’t taken his oath until after the Moonstone was gone; to him, the rocks had always just been rocks. “It’s not the same as before. I could be wrong, but I think the Moonstone is resisting her.”

“What does that mean for us?”

“It could make it easier to defeat her. If she can’t truly harness the Moonstone’s power, she’ll make mistakes in battle.”

Adira approached them. “Your theory may be correct, but we can’t gamble with that. She fought well when she stole the stone. She was able to harness its powers in the moment with ease. The Moonstone might be resisting her, but she’s still using it to the best of her abilities.”

“How close are we to her?” Varian asked.

“Another hour, at least.”

He nodded. “I have some theories, but I need to see her before I can confirm them. Let’s keep going.”

They started back toward their companions. Hector put a hand on Varian’s shoulder to stop him. “Alright, talk, kid. I know you’re planning something. You’ve had your thinking face on all night.”

Varian bit his lip. “I have an idea, but you won’t like it.”

“Somehow I suspected that. So let’s hear it.”

“I need to talk to Cassandra.”

Hector bit back the words that rose to his throat instinctively. Varian was a full member of the Brotherhood now; if he was going to lecture Quirin about trusting Varian and letting him grow, he had to do the same. “Ooookay. Yeah. I don’t like it, but I’m sure you have a reason. What do you need from us?”

“Don’t attack her. We’ll approach her non-aggressively. She won’t hurt me, so I’ll offer to hear her out. Then the two of us can talk. You stay nearby in case anything goes wrong, and keep studying the rocks and how she interacts with them.”

“I hate this plan. But I trust you. You’re sure she won’t hurt you?”

“She wants my help. She could’ve hurt me before, but she didn’t. If she’s planning a full-scale assault on Corona, she’ll be more cautious. Collect allies. She’s not a great strategist; her thing was always brute force. But even she’s smart enough to know she can’t conquer a whole kingdom by herself. Not if she wants public opinion on her side.”

“How do you know she wants that?”

“She wants to appeal to everyone who’s been hurt by the Coronan royalty. And she can’t do that if she goes in and starts throwing up rocks left and right. They’ll see her as just another dictator.”

Hector nodded and slid his hand to Varian’s other shoulder, pulling him into a side hug. “Not bad, kid. I’ll get you an audience with her.”

“Thank you.” Varian leaned into his side. “It… means a lot that you trust me.”

“I got no reason not to. Far be it from me to admit Quirin is ever right about something, but our family relies on trust. You trusted me to keep you safe. Now I trust you to keep yourself safe. Hopefully I’ve knocked some self-preservation instincts into you, ‘cause Heaven knows you didn’t have ‘em when I met you.”

Varian laughed and shoved him. Hector nudged him back toward Kiki. They mounted up and started back along the path. Varian took off ahead to follow after Adira closely, leaving Hector to explain the plan to Quirin— and to deal with the inevitable fallout.

O‴O‴O‴

They found Cassandra at the edge of a cliff, ringed by high walls of black rock. As Varian slipped through the loose barrier, she looked back over her shoulder at him, then turned her attention back to the full moon. She gestured for him to join her. He moved to her right side and knelt beside her, though far enough away that he could move if she tried anything, resting his hands on his knees in mimicry of her posture and staring up at the moon.

“It’s so beautiful,” she began softly. “I don’t think I really appreciated it until now. Staring at the moon just seemed so… sentimental, and there were other practical things to do.”

He took the time to analyze her. In the silvery beams, the blue lines of her armor stood out more brightly than they had in the dim daylight when she had stolen the stone. Her armor itself was similar in style to the ceremonial armor he’d seen both in the Great Tree and the Dark Kingdom, with its separated breastplate and flexible waist guards. The sun symbol across the front of her breastplate was distinctly Coronan, save for the jagged split down the middle which housed the Moonstone. Black fabric, similar in texture to fine chainmail, rested underneath her armor, draping down past her torso and just brushing up against the tops of her thigh guards. Her shin guards and pauldrons were adorned with short spikes, positioned to allow her adequate flexibility while still offering protection. A long black cloak flowed from her shoulders, pooling in the dirt behind her. Resting in front of her folded knees was a black helmet, a sharp T cut out for her eyes and a spiked crest along the top.

Finally looking at him, Cassandra offered, “You wanted to talk, right? Does this mean you’ve reconsidered?”

He let his gaze fall to the ground. “Right now, I just want to understand. I’m giving you what I wish I’d been given: a chance to explain. I’m not saying you’ll convince me, but let’s at least hear each other out.”

“I can’t argue with that.” She rolled her shoulders back. “I said pretty much everything I needed to say back in the Dark Kingdom. The Coronan monarchy is a plague. They’ve been left unchecked for too long, and the power went to their heads. Someone has to step in and do something about them.”

“And what do you plan to do?”

“Whatever I have to. I can’t sit back anymore and pretend I don’t see the way they’re hurting others. It took seeing you again to make me face the truth of their crimes. The way they silence anyone who disagrees with them. The senseless cruelty. I’m done playing a part in that, and I’m done passively allowing it. The Der Sonnes have to answer for their actions.” She turned more fully to him, and he fought to keep from flinching away from her unnaturally blue eyes. “Varian, I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be. Both for what I did last year and for this.” She rested one hand over the Moonstone. “But please, I need you for this. I can’t do this without you.”

Varian’s shoulders hunched. There it was. For all her talk weeks ago of doing this to help him, the ugly truth remained: she wanted to use him. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t do alchemy anymore. Remember?” He couldn’t help his bitter scoff. “They stole that from me.”

“I know,” she answered softly. “I don’t want you for that. Really. But you’re the best person to help everyone see just what the monarchy is capable of. I know you’re self-conscious about your scars, but they signed their own downfall when they did that to you. No one can deny what they did.”

“You sure tried.”

“I didn’t want to see the truth. Now I do. And everyone else will, too. We just have to give them a chance. Come with me to Corona. Help me stand against the Der Sonnes. We can save Corona, just like you wanted.”

“I don’t want it anymore.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face. “I told you already, I don’t care what happens to Corona. I tried to warn them, and they didn’t listen. I’m not going through all of that again.”

Her eyebrows knit in concerned sympathy. “It’s okay to be scared. What they did to you was unforgivable. But with the Moonstone, I can keep anyone from touching you again. I’ll protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me. I can take care of myself now. And I have my family.” Her eyes narrowed at the mention of the Brotherhood, but he pressed on. “It’s you I’m worried about. You don’t understand what you’re messing with. The Moonstone isn’t meant to be controlled like this. You’ll get yourself killed if you keep going.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take. A soldier’s duty is to take care of their people first. And I’ve let my people down too many times.”

Varian looked away from her. So far, everything she had said made perfect sense. And yet, there was something very un-Cassandra behind the words. It was hard to imagine that this was the same woman who had so violently dragged him around the Great Tree, left bruises on his already-marred skin, bound his hands tight enough to leave rope burns on his wrists. Perhaps she truly had undergone a change of heart; it was hardly his place to tell anyone they couldn’t. The Cassandra he had seen then had been of the conviction that a soldier’s duty was to the law. Nothing came above that. This sudden shift in her behavior hadn’t occurred until after…

He hissed. Of course, it had been staring him in the face the whole time! Turning back to her, he asked, “Do you know who she is? Your ‘friend?’”

Cassandra flinched back. “You know her?”

“She came to you at the House of Yesterday’s Tomorrow, didn’t she?” Her eyes darted away from his. “Cassandra, you can’t listen to her. She’s Zhan Tiri!”

“I know.”

“She’s lying— wait, what?” That certainly hadn’t been the answer he expected. “But if you know who she is, then why are you listening to her?”

Cassandra shrugged. “At the moment, our goals are aligned. We both want the destruction of Corona. Our motivations are different, but the end result will be the same. Corona will fall, and I’ll rebuild something better.”

“Is that what she promised you? You can’t trust her. She’ll take what she wants and then leave you to take the fall.”

She cut him a narrow glare. “Sounds like something you’re familiar with.”

He flinched. “That’s low. But yeah, I know a user when I see one. Believe it or not, there’s still a part of me that doesn’t want to see you get hurt. And you will get hurt if you keep going like this. Whatever she promised you, it’s not worth it.”

“It is to me,” she half-whispered. “I’m not blind anymore. She didn’t promise me anything. All she did was show me the truth.”

Varian shivered in the cool night air and wrapped his arms around himself. Cassandra couldn’t really be foolish enough to fall for Zhan Tiri’s manipulations… could she? The entire house had been a trap. Not just for Rapunzel; for all of them. She had approached him after he was vulnerable and hurt from his encounter with his darkest self; had she done the same to Cassandra? Her darkest self was a Coronan guard who saw no problem in physically abusing prisoners. Learning that could have been enough to turn her to the other extreme and decide to become a revolutionary instead. “What did she show you?”

She stared out at the moon again. “The past,” she answered. “The people who have suffered under that tyrant. What he did to you. All of it. The day he blinded you. The way he stood on your right side when they did it. The truth serum, the way they’d cut you. The bloodletting.” She took a deep breath. Varian couldn’t catch his at all. She’d seen… all of it. He’d confessed to Hector what happened that day, but never to her. “And not just you,” she continued. “The Saporians, too. It wasn’t him who started their downfall, but he knew. Lady Caine. He had her father executed for petty theft. I saw all of it. I saw my own mother die. She was a monster, sure. But it’s his fault she’s dead.”

“Cass…” Varian struggled for words. What could he say to refute any of that? Zhan Tiri hadn’t lied to her, after all. All she’d done was stoke the flames of Cassandra’s fury with the truth. Every agonizing detail of what he’d endured had been left on display for her, not just the scars he bore now that it was over. A hot shame burned in his chest, clawing under his skin. The shade of the trees beckoned to him, offering a refuge from her pitying gaze, but it wouldn’t stop her from knowing. Hiding wouldn’t change what she’d been shown. His fingers dug sharply into his upper arms. Why hadn’t he worn his long-sleeved shirt? Was making everyone see the evidence of that tyrant’s crimes worth the mortification of them knowing?

Her eyes widened. Taking off her cloak, she draped it over his shoulders. The black fabric, made of the same fine links as her underarmor, was cool against his skin, but it blocked out the cut of the air— and blocked his arms from view. He forced his fingers to loosen and tugged the fabric tighter around him. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you panic.” With a bitter laugh, she shook her head. “I’m good at that, aren’t I?” With a softer smile, she added, “I know it’s not what you were trying to say, but I almost miss hearing you call me Cassie. No one ever calls me that.”

He rubbed the fabric between his fingers. “That was a long time ago. I was— we were different people back then.”

“I know. We both made mistakes. We both want to do better.”

“This isn’t better. You’re just making the same mistakes I did. You’ve just got more power than I did.”

“And that’s why I’ll win.”

“Is that all you can think about?” Varian snapped, rising to his feet. “You’ve got a celestial power, so now you’re invincible? Is this just a game to you? Is all you care about winning? You’re so obsessed with this idea of being some grand hero.”

“Hero?” Cassandra scoffed. “If that’s what you want to call it, then fine. I’ll be a hero or a villain, just as long as I win.”

“Against who? Rapunzel? Frederic?”

“Whoever gets in my way.” Her voice took a hard edge. “I have allies or enemies. I’d really rather have you as an ally. You think Crazy Rhino Guy can protect you? Shadow Lady? They couldn’t even fight me when I didn’t know how to use the Moonstone.”

“You know, Zhan Tiri told me the same thing. Right before she told me to take the Moonstone.” Her eyes widened. He pressed on. “Yeah, she didn’t tell you that, did she? She told me to steal the Moonstone once we got to the Dark Kingdom. Guess she didn’t just bet on you. She wanted someone to take it. Did you ever stop to think why?”

Cassandra shrugged. “To destroy Corona. What does it matter which one of us got it? She gets what she wants, and so do I.” She ran her hands through her hair, resting them on the back of her neck as she stretched. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t think you’re ready for that. It’s easier right now to try to forget what they did to you. This is my fight to lead. It’s my destiny. When you’re ready to help me, you know how to find me.”

He took a step closer to her. “Please, Cassandra. This is the only chance I can offer you. The Brotherhood is coming for you, and they won’t stop until they get the stone back. I barely managed to convince them to let me talk to you this time. I can’t stop them next time.”

She smiled up at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s sweet of you to worry. I was an idiot not to realize how thoughtful you always were. But I’m not standing down.”

“Then… I guess this is it.” He slipped the cloak off his shoulders and folded it, laying it on the ground beside her. “Good luck.”

“Keep it,” she offered.

“No thanks. I’ve got one.”

He turned and walked away, painfully aware of the line that had been crossed here underneath the full moon. Cassandra would never yield. Varian would never join her. And the Brotherhood would never stop hunting her, not until their oath was fulfilled. The next time they saw each other would be on opposite sides of a war that was years in the making. He gave one last look over his shoulder at the woman he had once called a friend. She didn’t look away from the moon, her hair and armor glowing softly in the silver light.

Chapter Text

Arianna dropped to her knees, brushing sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Sliding her sword back into its sheath, she rested it on the ground beside her and reached for a canteen. How did each day’s hour of training feel so much longer than that of the day before? Stretching her arms, she leaned against the wall of the training room and closed her eyes. Despite the strain it took on her body, she could already tell a slight difference from the weeks of work; already she felt stronger and more coordinated, more like the woman she had been before marriage, back when the world was open to her adventuring spirit.

But this was no quest or adventure in some far-off land. This was her home and her people at stake.

The young guard who had been assigned to assist her, Judah, crouched next to her. “You’re getting better every time!” he praised. The freckle-faced soldier was a new recruit, energetic and eager to please. When he’d been selected as her sparring partner by Captain Bartholomew, the boy’s eyes had tripled in size. He’d accepted timidly, full of questions of “what happens if I accidentally hurt her” and “is it considered treason to spar against the queen” and a thousand other queries. Once he’d gotten over his anxiety about working with her, he’d been a great help, especially since he’d been in awe enough to readily promise never to speak a word of this to the king. Not that there was much chance of that happening; as a lowly guard stationed in the servants’ quarters, he was unlikely to ever see Frederic face to face, much less have the opportunity to speak with him. Arianna half suspected that was why he’d been chosen. It was too early to know where his true loyalties lay, but with any luck, the time they spent training would position him firmly on her side. He seemed to care more about her than about the king and would likely side with her given the choice. She could see no duplicity or dishonesty in the lad’s eyes.

But then again, she hadn’t judged Frederic’s character correctly, either.

Arianna let him help her to her feet. “Thank you, Judah, but you don’t have to cater to my emotions. I know very well I look like a graceless fawn.”

“A little, yeah, but you’re getting stronger! You about took my head off with that last swipe!”

Turning her face away from him to hide her smile, Arianna rolled her eyes. That hit had been nowhere near him.

Captain Bartholomew cleared his throat and stepped through the doorway. “That’s enough for today, Judah. Dismissed.”

Judah gave a snappy salute to the captain and then a bow toward her before disappearing. Bartholomew took his place, accepting the sword Arianna handed him before placing it back with the other training blades. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Your Majesty. It’ll take time for your muscles to remember how to wield a sword properly, but it will happen. And at the moment, we have the time.”

“Perhaps less than we know,” she warned. “We can’t be sure where our first attack will come from: Frederic or Cassandra.” She placed a hand on his arm. “How are you doing with all this? I know how much you love her.”

He nodded, averting his eyes. “I do. She’s my daughter, whatever else happens. I’m… I wish I could say I was handling this better. But I don’t know what I’ll do if I see her again. I don’t think I can make myself fight her.”

“Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that. Our friends are looking for her now. If they can’t make her see reason, they’ll likely arrest her.” She gave a small smile. “Don’t give up on her. Sometimes it takes a while for our children to come home, but they need to know we’re here waiting on them. They need to know we love them.”

“She knows I do. At least, I hope she still knows that. I wasn’t the best father for her, but I tried my best to make sure she never doubted that.”

“I saw how much she adored you. I don’t doubt she knows.”

“It’s kind of you to say. As it is, though, there’s nothing I can do for her now. I just have to trust that everything I taught her somehow stuck. I have to believe she’ll do the right thing. Until then, I’ve got my work to focus on. Have to make sure she has a home to come back to.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Speaking of, here’s a list of palace guards whom I can comfortably say would side with us.”

“How many?”

“Forty-two, at the moment. That could change. I’ll keep looking.”

She sighed and turned away. “So few?”

“That’s just here in the palace. Most of the cavalry and foot soldiers have no idea what’s been happening here. They just go where assigned. Same with their commanders. I suspect if we do this quietly, they won’t need to know at all; once we act, everything will happen quickly and in a centralized location. By the time it’s over, you’ll be in charge, and they’ll have no reason to wonder why.”

“But that also means we can’t rely on them for help if anything does go wrong.”

“Then let’s make sure nothing goes wrong.”

O‴O‴O‴

She was writing a letter when the screaming started.

Pinching her lower lip between her teeth, she tapped the paper with her quill pen, switching to a piece of scrap paper to write down a few words so she could see which one fit better. When the first scream echoed around the halls, her pen skipped across the parchment. Setting it aside, she stood and hurried out to the hall.

A maid ran past her, shrieking. “Ghosts!”

Ghosts? In the castle? Odd, but not beyond the realm of possibility. Rapunzel had come home with all sorts of strange tales, and even before her trip she’d claimed to meet a ghost at the Snuggly Duckling. Turning the direction the maid had come from, Arianna started off down the hall.

Around the next corner, however, she came to a quick stop at the sight of the sword aimed at her face. The guard sat on the floor, his back pressed against the wall, his pupils mere pinpricks in his hazel eyes. Sweat poured from his forehead as he stared off into nothing, his fingers clenched around the hilt of his blade so tightly that the color had bled from his knuckles. Arianna took a step back to give him room. “Are you alright, dear?”

When he didn’t answer, she took a step closer. His gaze landed on her, and he thrust the sword forward. “Get back!” he screeched. “Get away!”

She backed away again and held up her hands. “I’m not going to hurt you. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

His eyes darted around again, seeing things she couldn’t see. “The bodies… not again,” he choked out, tears springing to his eyes. “Not again, please! They said it would be better here!”

“Shh, it’s alright, honey. There are no bodies. You’re okay.” An iron band wrapped itself around her heart, constricting until she was afraid it would stop beating. She recognized this soldier now. He’d been reassigned from the field just months ago. First the maid seeing ghosts, and now this; was the castle truly haunted?

Stepping around the man, she hurried further down the hall. A red glow, like a low-burning fire, reflected off the walls. Around the next corner, she reached toward her waist for her sword, but her hand came up empty. Clenching her fist, she straightened her shoulders and stepped closer to the sharp rocks protruding from the floor. A wave of nausea rushed through her stomach, burning at the back of her throat. Her skin crawled, every instinct she possessed screaming at her to turn and run. Her aching muscles tensed as she curled in on herself.

In the center of the mass of rocks, a noblewoman stood, her arms wrapped around her head as she cowered away from whatever it was she saw. Her skin, her hair, even her clothes had turned the same shade of red as the rocks. A cold dread settled in Arianna’s chest. Swallowing back her nausea, she lunged forward, reaching out a hand to grasp the woman’s arm.

A pair of arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her away from the lady. She gave a sharp cry and wrestled against the hold, but the newcomer picked her up and carried her further down the hall, back around the corner. With every step, the crawling along her skin and the acid in her throat faded away. She stopped struggling against the arms and let them pull her away. Once they were sufficiently far enough away from the rocks, she was deposited gently back onto her feet.

“Your Majesty!” Eugene looked her up and down for any sign of injury. “Are you okay? You didn’t touch anything?” He breathed a heavy sigh. “At the risk of sounding like I’m telling you what to do, please don’t go near the rocks. We don’t know what’s causing them yet, but anyone who gets too close gets petrified.”

She shuddered, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Thank you, Eugene.” She turned back toward the glow but didn’t move from her spot. Her feet seemed to be rooted to the floor. “What’s going on here? Why have the rocks changed color? And what are they doing to everyone?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s… hard to say. We think everyone’s seeing their worst fears. If they get too close, or they’re afraid for too long, they get frozen like that.”

“Where’s Rapunzel?”

He grinned. “Off being optimistic. Trying to keep everyone’s spirits up until we know what to do.”

“Eugene… what do we do?” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Is this Cassandra’s doing?”

His smile fell. “I don’t know,” he answered. “To both of those questions. I have no idea.”

Arianna looked out the nearest window. Across the castle grounds, more rocks pierced the ground, casting their bloody glow over every surface. Further beyond, they spilled over the whole of Corona’s capital, a city on fire. And above it all, a dark shadow soaring unhindered toward the castle, was a familiar hawk.

“I think I have one,” Arianna replied quietly.

O‴O‴O‴

Once Artemis left, bearing Arianna’s missive, the work of securing the capital and its occupants began in earnest. Rapunzel joined her, painting signs to warn citizens while Arianna directed the residents who were less severely affected. Eugene stayed close to Rapunzel, almost hovering, one hand pressed to his side.

“Check for structural damage in the north wing and evacuate anyone still there to the south,” Arianna ordered. “Ethel, take these signs and start posting them in the square. Nigel, help Lance and the girls announce the talent show. The gardens haven’t been touched, so host it there and gather as many citizens as possible. That should keep them safe a bit longer. Captain, many of the soldiers are suffering from battlefield trauma. If possible, disarm them and gather them somewhere safe where they can rest.” Her words were accompanied by a chorus of "Yes, Your Majesty”s from various directions as they scattered to follow her instructions.

When the room was nearly empty, she joined Rapunzel and Eugene at a table. “How are you?”

Rapunzel gave a forced smile. “Great! I’ve got about ten signs made so far. This should help a little bit!”

“I’m sure it will. But how are you?”

Her smile quivered but didn’t fall. “I’ll be okay. I’ve got Pascal and Eugene, so I’m fine.” From her shoulder, Pascal offered a thumbs-up. “What about you, Mom? Are you okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Now that I know what to expect, I can compartmentalize.” She picked up one of the signs and set it aside to dry.

The door opened, and Frederic rushed in. “There you are! Are you alright, my dears?” He took Arianna with one arm and Rapunzel with the other, pulling them into a tight hug. “I was so worried. It’s not safe here for you. Come with me; I’ve gathered some guards to escort you out of Corona to our summer estate.”

“What?” Rapunzel pulled away from him. “Dad, we can’t go! The people need us!”

“I agree.” Arianna leaned into Frederic’s side, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Dear, we have too much work to do. This isn’t the time for us to leave.”

He smiled fondly. “I didn’t expect I’d be able to convince our daughter to leave. But my love, I’d feel better if you agreed to go. That way I can focus on our current problem without needing to worry about you.”

“Then don’t worry about me.” She stretched up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m not afraid. Please, I’d much rather be here working than somewhere put away like a dusty book and worrying about what’s going on here. I won’t be able to rest knowing everyone else is here and I’m not.”

With a quick huff, he nodded reluctantly. “Very well. But please, be careful. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you. Until we find a solution, I want you to stay with a guard at all times.”

“Most of our guards are occupied with keeping the town secure,” she reminded him, “and the others are suffering from the rocks themselves. My safety is not our priority at the moment.” Stepping away from him, she folded her hands in front of her stomach. “And besides, I think I may have a solution.” Frederic, Rapunzel, and Eugene all turned to her. She drew her shoulders back, lifting her chin. “You’re not going to like it, though.”

O‴O‴O‴

A harsh silence blanketed the halls of the castle, most of the residents now moved to more secure locations. Alone with her thoughts, Arianna moved from room to room, leaving the doors open as she went to let any others know they had already been checked. After locating two duchesses and a knight and sending them back to safety, she headed for the next wing. Frederic had protested her going alone, but their forces were stretched thin enough as it was. Even faithful Judah had been taken by the rocks already, one frozen tear upon his cheek.

This near to the rocks, fear seized her lungs again, threatening to stop their halting breaths. She stepped quickly, giving the rocks a wide berth.

From a distance, a faint scream echoed. Arianna hissed and whirled around. That voice…

Spinning on her heel, she turned down another hall. A cruel voice spoke indiscernibly, sending a shiver down her spine. Someone responded, their words muffled but carrying an unmistakable air of fear. If this were someone whom they had missed as they cleared the rooms the first time, she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if something were to happen to them. The first voice grew louder, accompanied by the stinging sound of someone being struck by a flat palm.

Heart in her throat, Arianna ran faster, climbing up a set of stairs. Just ahead, the flickering firelight glow drew her in, urging haste to her steps. She spun one last corner and froze.

It couldn’t be! She had only written her letter earlier today; it should have taken at least a week for him to return! But there, on the ground before her, lay Varian, blood streaking across his face and clothes. He didn’t look at her, gaze fixed before him on his attacker as he pressed himself backward, hands scrambling for purchase in the soft carpet.

Above him stood Frederic, fists curled and red staining his knuckles. In his right hand was a whip, its length pooling on the floor beside him. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers with a glare of cold indifference. Arianna stopped breathing.

He broke his gaze away from her, turning it to the child at his feet. Lifting his arm, he brought the whip up. It sang through the air as it arced toward him, striking against the side of his face.

Arianna saw red.

Then nothing else.

O‴O‴O‴

Earlier

Hector prowled through the dark, slipping from branch to branch noiselessly. The crisp night air carried the scent of carraway and sage, tossed gently in the steady breeze. The hottest of the summer season was yet to come, but the nights had softened their aura some. It was a perfect night for hunting.

Close behind, Adira moved with the grace of a shadow, dancing lithely in the darkness. Quirin followed, keeping his eye on their rearward path as he, too, walked with a stealth that belied his thick frame. Just ahead, Riki and Kiki sniffed out the trail, leading them closer and closer to their prey. Varian, Ruddiger, Aurora, and Kubwa waited back at the campsite, while Artemis soared low over the treetops— much to Varian’s dismay, now that the fight had truly grown serious, Hector had insisted he remain behind.

A low voice drifted from somewhere up ahead. Hector motioned for their party to stop. Then he slunk forward, dropping to the ground and disappearing into the brush.

A faint blue glow flitted through the trees, some bit dimmer than it had been the last time they’d encountered her. She paced a clearing, arms wrapped around herself. Every few steps, she stopped and lifted a hand, forcing a rock to break the earth’s surface. Her limbs trembled with the exertion, so weakly rewarded with short and stubby protrusions.

“I can’t,” she groaned, letting her arms fall to her sides. “It’s not strong enough!” Then she tilted her head to the side, as if listening to a voice on the wind. “No, I can, I promise! It’s not— I’ll figure it out. There has to be something in those stupid scrolls! Varian said—” Again she cut herself off shortly.

Hector tensed and readied his blade.

“No, but that— I can’t do that to him!” Another pause, longer. “Isn’t there some other way? I don’t want to hurt him.” She flinched back from whatever spectre she was conversing with. “I’ll do what I have to. But that has to be a last resort. I want him to join me willingly.” Her face hardened. “He will. He just needs time.”

“That’s time you don’t have.”

Cassandra whipped around, eyes wide. Her invisible friend— likely Zhan Tiri, if he had to guess— must not have alerted her to his presence. With a wave of her hand, a line of black rocks sprang up, easier than they had before, aimed at Hector. He dodged to the side, disappearing between the trees and reappearing behind her. “One last chance,” he growled. “Give it back, and I’ll let you live.”

“Never!” She shoved another wave of rocks at him. He leapt them, bracing his foot against the smooth surface of one as he lunged toward her. His skin crawled at the malignant energy pouring from them, but he collected his breath and sprang off the rock with his sword extended. She drew Adira’s blade and met his attack, dropping low to let him flip over her head. He landed lightly, aiming an attack at her back. His sword struck her armor, sliding off with a screech. It didn’t even leave a mark. Hector muttered something Quirin would certainly disapprove of and backed up, recalculating.

Catching her balance, Cassandra spun and swung. He blocked and parried, pushing her back into her own rocks. The ground bucked under his feet, and he cut a backflip, landing away from the spikes that pierced through the dirt.

“Now,” Hector tsked, “How do you think Varian would feel if you impaled me? That wouldn’t win you any sympathy from him.”

 “If you leave me alone, I won’t have to impale you.”

“A little rude, don’t you think?” Adira asked from the treeline as she examined her nails. “I mean, we came all this way, and this is the thanks we get? What about ‘Aww, thanks, guys, you’ve stopped me from making a terrible mistake!’ Wouldn’t that be nicer?”

Cassandra scowled. Turning on Adira, she sent another wall surging toward her— or where she had been. Adira shook her head and shrugged, giving Hector a hapless grin from across the clearing.

“She’s right,” Quirin agreed. “Did you stop to consider the ramifications of your actions?” Cassandra whirled on him, but rather than attack him the way she had the other two, she kept at a careful distance, drawing some rocks around her in a protective circle. Her expression softened slightly. “This isn’t you, Cassandra. Your father is waiting for you back home. He’s devastated. Think for a moment about what you’re doing.”

“My father?” Cassandra’s eyes narrowed. “My father imprisoned and beat your son at your own house. He’s stood by for years while the king did whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted. He’s just as responsible for this as everyone else.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“I do!”

Hector groaned. “Enough talking.” He slowly began pacing around Cassandra. She turned to follow his movements. “We came for the Moonstone, so that’s what we’re gonna do.” In the trees above him, Riki and Kiki growled, their red eyes gleaming in the darkness.

“Fine,” Cassandra hissed. “You wanna fight? Let’s fight.” She spread her arms wide, and her circle of rocks grew, surging outward at the three. Hector dodged, springing off the rocks again to come at her from above and swinging his blade at her head. She blocked and swiped at his legs as he landed. He stepped back lithely, lowering his arm to block the strike. As they traded blows back and forth, he scowled. She had little technical prowess; her main strategy appeared to be muscling her way through situations. Unfortunately, compared to the Brotherhood, she had very little muscle, either. With the training the Dark Kingdom could have provided, she would have done well; Corona’s soldiers were truly pitifully underprepared. It was no wonder a fourteen-year-old had nearly toppled the monarchy.

“This the best you can do, handmaid?” he challenged.

As expected, Cassandra stopped, mouth agape in indignation. “I’m not a handmaid,” she seethed. “I was a lady-in-waiting.”

He rolled his eyes. “What’s the difference?”

If possible, her mouth dropped even further. “You— it’s not the same! The status—”

Her words were cut short by Adira, who bodyslammed her from the side.

Hector walked over to her as she picked herself up, propping herself up on her elbow. She shook her hair away from her face and looked up at him. “Hey, Short Hair,” he said as he leaned down. “I lived in a palace. I know the difference. Thanks for that, though.” Adira and Quirin moved to stand next to him on either side.

She shuffled backward until she was pressed against the rocks. Her wide eyes bounced from one to the other and then to the binturongs still hovering in the branches. The blue lines on her armor deepened without warning, the shade changing to a dark violet and then to red. The ground rumbled, heaving upward as new rocks shot up.

Rocks in shades of red, dancing the line between fire and blood.

The Brotherhood scrambled back, dodging out of the way as the rocks continued to move. They shoved past the three, cutting a sharp, jagged line into the trees. Cassandra shoved herself to her feet and sprinted in the opposite direction, disappearing into the darkness.

Hector gave an animalistic snarl and turned to run after her. A pained scream behind him froze him in his tracks. Spinning on his heel, he tore off after the noise, following the trail of rocks back to where Varian had been left, with orders to wait for them. Had he been too close? Had the rocks hit him? A sinking dread settled in his stomach. If Varian was hurt— if his kid had been hurt because Hector had allowed him to come with them— then how could he forgive himself?

The light from the rocks carved his path through the woods, back to where he had left him. Hector’s breaths echoed in ragged bursts. With every step, his fear rose in his throat, threatening to choke him. He pushed the last few branches aside and stumbled out into the clearing.

Where he had left Varian peacefully meditating, the scene that unfolded before him could not have been more different. The rocks had traveled straight through the center, scattering their campfire to flicker out. Kubwa, always so strong and steady, had disappeared, several trees flattened and cracked in his wake. Aurora screeched and reared, her hide flecked with sweat as her ears flattened against her head. Ruddiger clung to a tree branch, the red glow tinting the fur on his paws and arms and slowly creeping upward.

And Varian…

Hector stopped breathing.

Varian knelt on the ground, curled up tightly. Blood soaked his torn clothing, matted his unkempt hair, stained his pale skin. Deep gashes lined his arms. Broken whimpers tore from his throat, past his clenched teeth as he bit his lip. The same red was overtaking Ruddiger was now slowly creeping up his limbs, toward his heart.

Hector lunged forward, but something snagged around his ankles, dragging him to the ground. He twisted around to see thick vines crawling up his legs. More of them lashed around his arms and chest, snaking upward toward his throat. He flicked his wrist to summon his blade, but only empty air met his command. His gloves—where were they? His tattoo stood out darkly on his skin where the leather should have covered it. Where in blazes was his sword? Throwing his body back around, he dug his bare fingers into the earth, clawing at the dying grass as he dragged himself hand over hand toward his kid. “Varian! I’m comin’, kid, hang on!” Sinking his teeth into the nearest vine, he tore it away, spitting it into the grass.

Something sharp dug into his shoulder. A set of teeth. Another sank into his arm. They tugged at him, dragging him backward as the vines tightened their hold on him. A familiar growl echoed in his ear, a sharp warning. Hector took a deep breath, taking in the musky smell of his bearcats. Letting his body fall limp, he allowed them to drag him backwards, away from the rocks. When they were satisfied with the distance, they let go of him, darting past to go after Varian next.

Hector winced and sat up, looking around. His gloves were still on his hands. No vines encircled his body. Over by the rocks, Kiki helped nudge Varian’s stiff body up onto Riki’s back. When they drew near, lowering him back down to the ground, Hector looked him over, noting that the only blood on his body came from his torn lip. His clothes were neat and untorn, and his hair was once again fastened in its braid. His eyes were still tightly closed, his erratic breathing shaking his frame.

“Var,” Hector rasped, reaching out a hand slowly. “Var, hey, open your eyes, kid.” He nudged him with two fingers, drawing back quickly when Varian flinched. It did the trick, though, and Varian opened his eyes, his gaze darting around the clearing quickly. His breathing slowed as his eyes settled on Hector.

“Wha—how? What?” He shook his head, grimacing in pain.

The bearcats, seeing they were somewhat recovered, took off again. Hector watched their movements as they collected Quirin and Adira, who had stopped at the edge of the trees. Once the two of them were out of the way, gasping for breath, Kiki ran to Aurora to corral her into a safer area while Riki fetched Ruddiger by the back of his neck and carried him over to Varian.

Hector scootched closer to Varian, scanning his small body. It seemed so impossible that the open wounds he’d bore not thirty seconds earlier were now completely gone. No traces of blood, no injuries, nothing. It was as if he hadn’t been touched. His scarred skin was the same as Hector was used to seeing, the same lines and burns lining his arms. Nothing new, not even a scratch from a thornbush.

Varian, for his part, had sat up, staring at the red rocks. His hands shook as he leaned on his arms. “What…” He shook his head, reaching out one hand to grasp Hector’s. “What are those?”

Hector found himself at a loss for words. This… in all his years of service to the Moonstone, he had never experienced anything like this. What had they just endured? Illusions? Hypnotism? Whatever it was, it had induced something in Hector’s emotions he hadn’t felt since… since the Crucible and his ill-fated fight with Adira, since the creepy house in the woods, and before that… since his days on the battlefield with his siblings, facing the horrors of war for the first time.

It was Adira who spoke next. “I don’t know,” she answered, her voice cracked and tremulous in a way that shook Hector to hear. Adira never sounded like that. Ever. If anything, it made Hector’s blood chill even further. “But… I don’t think we have any idea what we’re up against. Not anymore.”

O‴O‴O‴

They settled in an open space for the rest of the night, somewhere far away from the line of rocks and with little obstruction to their line of sight. It took longer than normal, with everyone’s movements being more halted and stiff— more careful, each one hesitant to do anything that might startle someone else. There had been nights like this, long ago, after fights that took their toll more heavily than others, when no one knew what might set someone off.

When they gathered around the fire, Quirin’s back turned so he faced out into the night, Hector finally broached the subject. “What happened?” he hissed. “What the devil was that?”

No one had an answer.

Around them, the animals huddled close. Ruddiger pressed his face into Varian’s chest, ignoring the apple Varian tried to coax him to eat. Kubwa, after they had located him, had tried to keep his distance from the others, but Kiki and Riki pushed him closer and flanked him on either side, curled protectively against him. Aurora had elected to stay close to Quirin, letting him stroke her mane and whisper to her softly in the Old Tongue.

Standing up, Hector started pacing. “That was wrong,” he growled. “We’ve never seen that before. Centuries of guarding the Moonstone, and that—” he gestured with one hand back the way they’d come— “was nothing that has ever been recorded in our history. How are we supposed to fight her if we don’t even know what the Moonstone is capable of? Incantations and cryptic messages aside, how much are we not seeing?”

“Calm down,” Adira ordered in Russian. “You’ll scare him.” She gave a short nod in Varian’s direction. Varian glanced between the two of them, the exchange lost on him. Switching back, she continued where he could understand, “None of us know. We’re all as confused as you are. Sit down.”

“Quit bossin’ me around,” he huffed, but he took his seat near Varian again.

“I have a theory,” Varian offered quietly. “Did any— did anyone see anything? Something that wasn’t there?”

Hector tensed. “Yeah,” he answered. Looking to Adira, he asked, “You?” She nodded. Quirin did as well. “Huh. So what is it, then? The Moonstone can make us hallucinate now?”

“What did you feel?” Varian stared at the fire as he spoke, his arms wrapped around Ruddiger tightly.

It took Hector a moment to muster up the strength to say the word. When he did, it tore from his throat like a snake torn from its den by the tail. “Terror,” he ground out.

“The worst I’ve felt in years,” Adira agreed. “Like… nothing else existed in that moment.”

Quirin didn’t answer them, but his shoulders hunched close to his ears. He gripped his sword a little tighter.

“What did you see?”

“You,” Hector answered. “I saw you hurt. Bleeding. And I couldn’t—” he exhaled heavily and bowed his head. “I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t get to you. There were too many—” With a shudder, he stopped. He couldn’t force the word out. “I couldn’t move.”

Quirin answered next. “The amber. But… it wasn’t me that was trapped. And it— it didn’t… It wasn’t so forgiving this time.”

“We lost.” Adira wrapped her fingers tightly around her wrist. “The Moonstone destroyed everything. Balance was lost. And it was my fault. I did this to us.”

Varian curled up further, pressing himself into Hector’s side. “Prison. I was in prison again. And no one came to help me. No one— you didn’t—” He bit back a soft cry, closing his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m sorry.”

“Kid—”

“I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t— You didn’t leave me. I’m sorry—”

“Varian.” Hector wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “It’s not your fault. I know you don’t think that.” They had worked hard over the last several months to undo all the unhealthy ideas that had been beaten into him, and Hector liked to think that his own stupidity hadn’t messed that up too much, so Varian knew that Hector wasn’t going to abandon him. So for Varian to see that, to be forced to relive his worst memories with the added terror of knowing that no one was coming to save him…

“Terror,” Hector murmured.

Varian nodded. “We all experienced our worst fear,” he explained. “Whatever these rocks are, they cause us to see things that aren’t true— or that could be, or that were true at one point. I don’t know yet. What I’m worried about is the long-standing effects of this. If we’re trapped in our worst fears for extended periods of time.”

“I’m worried about trying to fight her like this,” Hector said. “What happens if this happens again? We can’t go on like this.”

“What about Riki and Kiki?” Varian asked. “Why weren’t they affected?”

Hector smiled at his boys, who gave contented purrs and self-satisfied smirks. “My boys aren’t afraid of anything,” he answered. “They’ve been through Hell with me. Since the day I’ve found them, I’ve never known them to show fear.”

“What do we do now?” Adira glanced over into the woods, where the red glow still lit the night with its fiery aura. “Where do they go? How can we get rid of them?”

Artemis swung low and circled overhead. Landing on Hector’s shoulder, she tipped her head at him.

“Huh,” he muttered. “I guess that would work.”

“What?” Adira asked.

Hector stroked Artemis’ head and nodded. She leapt up, taking off into the sky in the direction the rocks were pointing. “She’s going to follow them and report back to us.” He stood and stretched. “Don’t know about anyone else, but I’m beat. Wake me for second watch?”

Quirin nodded.

Hector stretched out on his bedroll, staring up at the sky. Moments later, Varian lay next to him, silently resting his head on Hector’s bicep. He pulled the blanket up over the kid, running his hand lightly along Varian’s arm until he heard his breathing settle. Varian hadn’t felt the need to do this since they’d left the Dark Kingdom. This event had shaken him more than he tried to let on. Not for the first time, Hector cursed the thief in every language he knew. Was she blind or merely stupid? How could she claim to do all of this for and because of Varian and yet continue to hurt him at every turn? Since the day she’d shoved her way into his life again at the Great Tree, she’d been nothing but a pain to him.

Across the campsite, Quirin met Hector’s eyes and gave a small nod. Hector nodded back, then closed his eyes. This, too, would take time to recover from; yet another thing to add to the ever-growing list. But while Quirin kept watch, Hector didn’t hesitate to try to get some rest. His brother would wake him if any of them started to get nightmares.

O‴O‴O‴

Artemis returned two days later, bearing a letter. Varian read it in silence, fingers clenched around the paper tightly. When he was finished, he passed it off to Hector. “Crap,” he hissed under his breath. “Crap. Crap.”

“Language,” Quirin chided, giving a sharp glare toward Hector.

Hector rolled his eyes. “Not a swear,” he argued. “Coulda said worse.”

Varian paced back and forth while the men read. The missive that Artemis bore was written in the neat, controlled handwriting of the queen. It bore a desperate plea for aid and her deepest apologies for needing to ask for it. The rocks had invaded their kingdom, and no one knew what to do. More citizens fell to the petrification by the hour.

“We don’t have to go, kid,” Hector informed him. “We don’t owe them nothing. Let them fix their own problems.”

“We owe her,” Varian answered quietly. “I owe her. I promised. I said to write to me if she needed help.”

“If we go back,” Adira warned, “We’re risking the wrath of the king. We can protect you, but this could stir up more trouble than it’s worth. Are you sure this is the path you want to take, malysh?”

Was it? To return to Corona, the place that bore so many haunting memories, that turned its back on him when he tried to protect it, that buried their sins underneath extravagant parties and glittering clothes? To face the king who had condemned him, stolen his childhood, and left scars on him that carved far below the surface of his skin?

But she was there. She had asked for help. She had saved his life twice, had saved his family.

If he had nothing left in Corona, he had at least one friend— two, if he counted Lance.

“He said we can’t return without royal permission, right?” Varian took the letter back from Hector. “Well, I guess this is all the permission we need. We have to go back to Corona.” He took a deep breath and looked toward the southwest. “I’ve got some things left unfinished.”

Chapter Text

The airship settled down with a thud, the wood creaking and groaning under its own weight. Varian twitched but didn’t hide behind Hector this time when the gold-armored soldier came into view. Captain Bartholomew gave them a respectful nod, motioning them aboard as he and Lance lowered the gangplank. They filed on, Varian giving the captain a wide berth as he moved to greet Lance.

“Hey, little buddy!” Lance offered him a quick hug, which Varian accepted with little reluctance. Despite their weeks apart and the struggles since then, it was refreshing to see he hadn’t fallen back into a state where he couldn’t accept Lance’s casual and harmless gestures. “How’s it been?”

“Do you want the nice answer or the honest answer?” he asked without thinking.

“Honest,” Lance replied, a slight frown on his lips. “Always. You know you can— you can always tell old Lance anything.”

Varian inhaled sharply. “Yeah,” he answered. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

Lance smiled again. “Good. Anything to report?”

“Eh, a fight with a would-be anarchist, and we took down a gang. That’s about all.”

“And?”

“And… the rocks,” he confessed. “That may have been our fault, sorry.”

Lance hummed thoughtfully and didn’t answer. As the last of the crew piled on board, Hector and Quirin pulled the plank up, and the captain turned the burners on to get the ship moving again. As soon as they were in the air, Hector sprawled on his back in the middle of the deck, his bearcats on either side of him. Adira grinned but allowed him the dignity of going un-mocked this time.

As painful as Hector might consider air travel, it was by far the quickest way back to Corona. He’d protested vehemently, insisting they could go on foot, but that would take weeks they didn’t have. When Varian had written back to the queen that they were on their way, he hadn’t expected a response of this size, but Artemis had directed the airship back to them with a smug gleam in her eye as if this had all been her idea. 

Lance lowered himself to sit against the railing. “Those rocks,” he began. “They’re pretty intense. Are you okay?”

Varian shrugged. “As well as we can be, I suppose. How are things in Corona?”

“About the same. We’ve had a lot of people petrified already, and more by the hour. We put on a talent show to try to help, but it only did so much.”

“Talent show, huh? Did you do anything?”

Lance gave a bright, beaming grin, putting a hand on his chest. “Naturally, I won their hearts with a stunning baritone performance.”

“You sing?”

“I’ve sang to you before. You were just too sick to really remember it. Back when you got a fever. I don’t really sing in public, but that was my big ‘overcome your fear’ moment, I suppose. Since I’m handling the rocks okay now, I probably should’ve stayed in Corona, but we didn’t have many people we could send to come get you.”

Lance had sung to him when he was sick? He’d been feverish after leaving the Great Tree, one of his wounds infected, and didn’t really remember much of the next few days that had passed after that. Distantly, he remembered a pair of warm arms that didn’t belong to Hector, a deep humming echoing from a chest underneath his head. Varian glanced over at Hector, who still lay prone on the deck with no indication of moving for the remainder of the trip. For all Hector still pretended to despise Lance, he would have only left Varian’s side in his illness if he had no other choice, and he’d deemed Lance worthy of taking care of Varian in his absence.

The trip back to Corona took only a few hours, over ground that had taken them weeks to cover heading the other direction. Varian bit back a wave of revulsion as the long wall came into view. He started to turn his head away, but a splash of color from below caught his attention. Leaning over the railing, he looked down over Old Corona. Here, the rocks had spread as well, doubtless in search of the Sundrop as before, but the town itself was nothing like it had been the last time Varian had had the misfortune of being trapped here. The buildings were sitting in a state of mid-construction, some completely taken down and others halfway rebuilt. Fresh paint coated some of the completed structures, those that he remembered had taken the least damage and had been repaired quicker.

“Queen Arianna ordered the project after you left,” Lance explained, “And Rapunzel’s been heading it up. A few families already got to move back. We’re lucky this wave of rocks hasn’t hit any buildings here yet.”

“How is the queen, anyway?”

“Haven’t seen her in a little while. Rapunzel got your last letter and sent me and the captain to come help. She’s pretty much kept everything afloat since this started, though. We’d be lost without her.”

Varian watched the village as it passed below. Though the thought of stepping foot in Corona filled him with a chilling dread, he meant what he’d told Hector: he owed her. She had shown his family nothing but kindness; and now, she was extending that same kindness to his hometown. The last time he’d seen her, she’d offered not only her help but her friendship. He had accepted, knowing what friendship with someone in her family could mean— had meant in the past. And as of yet, she had given him no reason to regret it.

The town passed, then the forest, and finally the island and capital city sailed under their ship. They settled the structure in a courtyard off the castle.

“I’ll go ahead and alert Their Majesties,” Captain Bartholomew offered. “One of the servants can offer you some food in the meanwhile.”

“Much appreciated,” Quirin answered, clapping him on the shoulder. “Time is of the essence; however, I do believe we could all use a moment to rest.” He eyed Hector as he spoke. Hector stuck his tongue out in response.

After collecting the airsick knight from the deck, they took a back door into the castle, leaving the larger animals (much against Riki and Kiki’s protests) in the courtyard to wait. The captain motioned to a servant, who led them to the kitchen. Varian looked around as they walked. The castle stood much the same as it had the day he helped Cassandra as her “co-lady-in-waiting.” The memory tugged incessantly at the back of his mind with every twist and turn. One of the curses of his exceptional memory: he couldn’t even forget the things he wanted to. He’d forgiven Cassandra so easily that day. That easily reconcilable nature he had once had was yet another casualty of the pain he’d endured.

And she’d talked of friendship like it was something she truly wanted. Like she’d seen what he did for her, realized what she had done to him, and wanted to make things right. Wanted to call him a friend.

Well. Look where that led them.

In the kitchen, they settled around a table—or, Quirin and Varian did, while Adira settled on the table and Hector paced back and forth around the room.

A girl around Varian’s age approached them hesitantly, bearing a tray of sandwiches and assorted fruits. She stopped before the table, shoulders hunched, seemingly waiting for some kind of signal.

“Hi,” Varian offered.

She yelped and set the tray down too quickly, causing a glass to rattle. Hector reached out and snatched it before it could fall. With a frightened squeak, the girl shrank away from the table.

“It’s quite alright, Faith,” Quirin spoke with a soft laugh. “Thank you for the food. This is my son Varian, and my siblings Hector and Adira.”

“H-hi,” she replied, giving a small wave. Her skin had gone a ghastly shade of gray.

Hector rolled his eyes. “Take a couple breaths, kid, before you fall out. We ain’t gonna hurt you.” He gave her a scrutinizing once-over. “Hm. Kinda short, but strong arms. Relatively graceful, but too timid. Adira, what do you think?”

Adira took a sip of her drink. “Running to build stamina, meditation for a clear mind, and a dagger for confidence.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Quirin growled. “We’re only here a few hours at most.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Hector huffed, raising his hands. “But remember those tips, kid. They’ll serve ya well.”

She nodded rapidly, her neat bonnet nearly flying off in her haste. As she ran to rejoin her coworkers, Varian bit back a laugh. Hector had seen the same thing he had; that Faith, out of all of them, had volunteered to bring them their food. If they had time before they left Corona— and Varian truthfully hoped they didn’t— he had no doubt Hector would carry through with the threat of teaching her at least a few things.

“So do we have a plan?” Hector growled, finally sitting down. “What are we supposed to do about this except for finding Short Hair? I know we gotta help the queen, but what do they expect us to do?”

Varian crossed his arms. “I don’t know yet. I didn’t really think that far. Maybe there’s a way to fight the fear-inducing influence of the rocks? We need to talk to the queen first so we can get a better understanding of the situation.”

Captain Bartholomew returned about five minutes later. “I spoke with the princess,” he said, a slight grimace crossing his weathered features. “They’ll see you in the throne room.”

Varian fought to keep a scowl off his face. It wasn’t Bartholomew’s fault. And whatever power play the king wanted to try, he couldn’t come close to matching the honed power of the Brotherhood. He shoved back from the table and stood. “Shall we get started, then?”

O‴O‴O‴

The throne room, at least, hadn’t been touched. Fitting; why should they suffer from the rocks the way their citizens did?

Frederic drew himself up to his full height as they entered, fingers gripping the arms of his throne tightly. To his side sat Rapunzel, her hands folded in her lap demurely, though a muscle in her jaw twitched as if she were barely restraining herself from saying something. Eugene stood beside her, one hand on her shoulder and the other resting on his side. The queen was nowhere to be seen.

Varian fought to keep from gasping as he drew close enough to see Frederic’s face. A long scar marred his right side, running underneath a patch covering his eye.

“Hector,” Quirin hissed in a warning tone. Beside him, Hector merely gave a huffed laugh and kept walking, self-assured smugness practically radiating off his body. They approached the throne; in a deep breach of customary courtesy, no one bowed.

“Thank you for coming,” Frederic growled, his voice strained with the effort it took to feign such gratitude.

Rapunzel took mercy on him and took over. “I know this isn’t how we wanted to see each other again, but really, thank you. This concerns the Moonstone, so we were hoping the Brotherhood could help.”

“And what exactly do you expect us to do, Your Highness?” Quirin asked, placing himself in front of the others. “We fear it was Cassandra’s power that caused this, so short of locating and defeating her, I’m not certain we can assist. We came only out of regard for Her Majesty.”

Frederic scowled. “Believe me, if it had been my choice, you wouldn’t have come at all.”

“We can still leave,” Hector offered cheerily. “I think that would be agreeable to everyone here.”

“Guys!” Rapunzel snapped, finally shooting a glare at her father.

Frederic coughed and nodded. “As I’m sure you noticed, these rocks are causing destruction and mayhem throughout all Corona—”

Varian scoffed. Frederic glowered at him, but wisely averted his gaze when Adira shifted to stand closer behind him.

“As you can understand,” he continued, “This is a matter of great concern for us. Her Majesty thought it best to reach out to… to Varian without my knowledge and request your aid. I would have preferred other methods of solving this problem, but she clearly thought you were capable of handling it. As this problem originated with you, it’s your responsibility to fix it.”

“Really?” Hector leaned forward. “That treasonous handmaid wasn’t one of ours. Last I checked, she was a Coronan.”

“The Moonstone—”

“Was doing just fine until the Sundrop flower was unearthed,” Quirin reminded him. “You cannot lay the blame for this at our feet when every action my family has taken has been to undo the damage caused by yours.”

“Then help us undo this,” Rapunzel pleaded. “I know we don’t deserve your help, but there are innocent people out there who don’t deserve to be petrified. We don’t have the right to ask this of you, Varian, but Mom thought you could help. We don’t know what to do. I’ve tried my hair, and nothing is working.”

“What makes you think I can fix this?” Varian asked. “I’m not magic, and I definitely can’t fight Cassandra. I tried. If this were a direct attack on Corona, she would show herself eventually, and we could try to fight her again, but it would only cause worse damage than we’re already dealing with. And besides, I don’t think she meant to do this. She was scared.”

“I know she was,” Rapunzel answered softly. “I can feel her. Through the rocks.”

His eyes widened. “Huh. Connected via the Moonstone and Sundrop— have you tried communicating with her?”

She nodded. “Didn’t work.”

“Ah. Worth a shot.”

Frederic shifted forward. “Enough dancing around this. Find a way to fix this.”

“What do you expect me to do?” Varian snapped.

“I expect you to use your alchemy.”

He hissed and stepped back. A cold chill settled in his chest. “No.”

“You studied the rocks before—”

“No,” Varian repeated, clenching his fists tightly by his sides. “I don’t do alchemy anymore, and everyone in this room knows why. You don’t get to ask me to do that.”

“This is not a request. You will help us with this problem.”

“You don’t get to give me orders,” Varian seethed. “I don’t have to listen to you.”

“I am your king!”

“No, actually, you’re not. You stripped me of my citizenship, remember? My allegiance is to the Dark Kingdom. Not to you.”

“That’s my boy,” Hector whispered proudly.

Eugene spoke for the first time, an air of reluctance hanging around his words as if he knew they were wrong. “You know, I’m technically the prince of the Dark Kingdom, right? So couldn’t I theoretically order you to help us?”

“Do it, then!” Varian snapped. “Prove that you’re just as much of a tyrant as your future father-in-law. You’ll fit right in with this family.”

“You little—” Frederic made to stand, but Varian rested a hand on his sword, taking a half-step forward.

“Don’t try it,” he warned. “I’m not the same kid you arrested. You don’t get to touch me, ever again.” Slowly lowering his hand, he turned away from the Coronans. “Good luck, though. Maybe you’ll find another alchemist to help you. One you didn’t torture.”

“Varian.” Rapunzel stood, stepping away from her throne and meeting him at eye-level. “I’m sorry. I should have spoken with you privately instead of all of us trying to talk together. This should have been between us, not them,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder. To their credit, both Eugene and Frederic looked abashed. “You don’t owe us anything, and we can’t make you help. But I’m asking you, as someone who has no right to ask this: is there anything we can do or say to convince you to at least work with us? I won’t ask you to do alchemy. I won’t even ask you to study the rocks. But my mom wrote to you because she believed in you. Is there anything we can say to change your mind?”

Varian ground his teeth together. Hector rested a hand on his shoulder, offering him a deferential nod. We’ll follow your lead.

“Where’s the queen?” he finally answered. “I’ll speak to her.”

Rapunzel looked away, taking a step back. Her hands curled into fists.

“Unfortunately—” Frederic steepled his fingers. “Her Majesty has already fallen victim to the rocks. She’s been petrified.”

Behind him, Hector gasped. Adira gave a low growl.

Varian froze. She was— Queen Arianna had— what?

He had been too late.

He couldn’t save her.

She had asked for his help and he had failed.

Hector’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “ Respira ,” he ordered.

Varian took a breath. This wasn’t the time to panic; not when his friend was in danger. She had saved him twice now. What else could he do but try to save her?

“I’ll need a lab. I’ll need all of my equipment. And I’ll need all of the chemicals you stole from me.” He took a step closer to the king. “And for her sake and yours, you better hope you still have the ones I need.”

Rapunzel’s shoulders slumped in relief. “You’ll help us?”

“I’ll try. But—” He looked past her at Frederic, pointing a finger at him. “You’re going to do something for me.”

Frederic rolled his eyes. “Is the return of your confiscated items not enough for you?”

“Don’t make me laugh. I want a full pardon. I want you to cede any and all rights to retaliation for anything I or my family have done in Corona. And… you’re going to publish a statement explaining everything that happened. How you knew about the black rocks and did nothing. How you silenced everyone who tried to talk about it. The guards you sent to my house. The things you had done to me in prison. All of it.”

“You want a public apology?” he scoffed.

“No, because you’re not sorry. I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it. But your people deserve the truth. They deserve to know how their leader failed them. How everything they suffered the last few years was because of you. And I’ll be reading it before you publish it, just to make sure you don’t leave anything out.”

Frederic pounded his fist against the arm of his throne. “You’re seeking to destroy my reputation?”

“You destroyed mine. Do you want your wife back or not?”

They locked eyes for several long seconds. Varian didn’t flinch away or lower his gaze, but as he stared the king down, Frederic shifted slightly, his shoulders curling in and his arms drawing to his sides. The power that always seemed to surround the man, the power that had seemed so unbreachable to Varian just a year ago but that now paled in comparison to the strength he’d seen the Brotherhood wield, seemed to shrink into him— now just a hollow, crown-shaped mockery. A curl of disgust rose in Varian’s throat. Against an enemy he couldn’t command his armies to fight, facing a family he couldn’t deceive, and his orders and edicts now only empty words, what was the king but a man? A man whose power had failed him, a man now reduced to asking his enemy for help.

“Fine,” Frederic finally hissed. “If that’s what you wish.”

Rapunzel stepped forward. Varian’s eyes flitted to her, and he drew himself taller as his breath caught in his throat. With the set of her shoulders and the proud gleam in her eyes, with the small half-smile she offered as she folded her hands in front of her and gestured with her head for him to follow— she looked just like the queen. Arianna’s daughter, indeed; this Rapunzel wasn’t the same princess he’d fought. Nor was she the same overly-cheerful princess who had insisted that Cassandra wasn’t a threat. Something had changed within her.

Hopefully whatever had changed would be enough to carry them through what he was about to do.

O‴O‴O‴

Queen Arianna waited in an upper hall, the rocks surrounding her as faithfully as her attendants would.

Varian stepped as close to her as possible without entering the radius of the rocks’ malignant energy. Even from this distance, he could see her wide eyes, her mouth open in an unheard scream. One hand gripped her skirt, hiking it up so she could move more easily, while the other stretched outward, reaching for something unseen. 

Hector stepped up beside him. “She’s incredible,” he murmured respectfully, crossing one hand over his chest in a military salute he would have shown the Dark King.

“Huh?”

He didn’t take his gaze away from her. “Terrified out of her head,” he continued, “and yet running toward the thing that’s scaring her. This kingdom needs a ruler like her. That’s… that’s a leader worth following.”

Varian looked over his shoulder to where Rapunzel waited for them. Tears shimmered in her eyes, tinged red with the reflected glow of the rocks, but she held her head high and her shoulders back. Eugene stood nearby— he hadn’t left her side once in the time Varian had seen them, and his skin had taken an unearthly gray pallor, contrasting greatly with the dark circles around his eyes. Turning back toward the two, Varian picked up Ruddiger, who had been lurking around his ankles, setting him in his proper place on his shoulder. “Are we ready?”

Rapunzel nodded. “The captain found all of your old things, and I think I know the perfect place for your lab. I’ll show you.” She started off down the next hallway.

Varian gave one last look to Arianna. “I’ll fix this,” he whispered. “Don’t worry. I’ll find a way.”

Hurrying to catch up to the others, he joined Hector at the back of their little traveling party. Up ahead, Quirin and Rapunzel chatted amicably, while Adira went up ahead to scout out their way. Eugene dropped back and walked next to Varian.

“Hey, uh… can we talk?” he asked.

Varian nodded, offering Hector a half-smile. Hector grunted and moved further ahead to walk with Quirin.

Eugene rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Hairstri —Varian. I’m sorry. About what I said back there.”

“It’s fine,” Varian answered easily. “I know why you said it. I’m not mad. I—“ He gave a short laugh. “I know what it’s like to say things you don’t mean because you’re scared.”

“Yeah,” Eugene muttered. “I didn’t wanna say this in front of them—” He gestured to the Brotherhood— “But… Dad’s been petrified, too. He was out there helping people get to safety, and… yeah.”

Varian winced. “I’m sorry. I know what that’s like.”

“I know. And I guess I understand it now a little better. I mean, I didn’t grow up with him— I didn’t even know about him until a few months ago. But he’s still my dad, you know? We’re doing okay now. Getting to know each other.”

Varian stopped walking. “Eugene… you know I don’t know if I can fix this, right?”

“I know.” Eugene gave him a sad smile. “And I hate that we’re asking you to do this.”

“It’s just one time,” Varian assured him. “Then I’m done with it. Just one more time, and hopefully I can do it without blowing anything up or setting something on fire or encasing anyone—”

Eugene put a hand on his shoulder, retracting it quickly. “Don’t go down that road, kiddo,” he ordered. “It’ll be fine. Accidents happen, but we’re all going to be incredibly, incredibly careful this time.”

“Right.” Varian kept walking. “Um, Eugene. Thanks. For apologizing.”

“Hey, no problem. It’s what friends do.” He winced. “I mean—”

Varian laughed. “It’s fine, Eugene. Team Awesome’s slow comeback, right?”

“Right.”

O‴O‴O‴

True to her word, Rapunzel had found the perfect room to use as a lab. Stone walls, wide windows, an offshoot of the castle on the ground floor with only one other story above them, and far enough away from anything important that an unexpected explosion wouldn’t do too much damage. The furniture had been removed and long tables set in place instead.

Varian worked to slow his breathing as he stared at the boxes delivered by the captain, Stan, and Pete. Atop the closest one, he could see the familiar glassy shine of his goggles. Four boxes in all— and if he had calculated correctly, less than half of what had been left in his lab after the battle. The visual reminder of just how much had been done to him struck him like a fist to the stomach. He shut his eyes and pressed into Hector’s side.

“That’s everything,” the captain said as he set the last box down.

Varian couldn’t speak. He nodded instead.

The guards left, and then it was just the Brotherhood, Rapunzel, and Eugene left. Varian took a fortifying breath and stepped away from Hector’s side, reaching for the closest box. He took out his goggles, feeling their familiar weight under his fingers. This, at least, he could still touch; this had nothing associated with it. It was a small miracle that they hadn’t been destroyed in a show of vitriol.

Slowly, he slid them on, letting his fingers tarry over the leather and glass.

One challenge down. Next, he slid off his claw gloves, taking instead the thick leather pair from the box. They sat stiff against his hands, and he flexed his fingers until they loosened somewhat. They needed an oil treatment, but they would do for now as they were. He took off his cloak and weapons and handed them to Quirin, then tied his apron around his waist.

“Au— Aunt, Adira, Dad,” he forced out, “Can you start taking out the— can you get the chemicals and start lining them up on that table over there?”

“Alphabetically or by atomic weight?” Adira asked, picking up a vial and reading the numbers written along the label.

“Alphabetically. The elemental weight organizational theory still needs some consideration. I think they’re missing something. Put the raw elements on one side and the compounds on the other. Ruddiger, grab the books. Uncle Hector, can you help me set up the equipment?”

“’Kay. What are we looking at here?”

They worked to set up the makeshift lab, Varian offering pointers and naming certain machines while purposely avoiding the sight of the colorful array on the table against the wall. It’s just like back home , he lied to himself. We’ve done this a thousand times. We like this.

His nerves didn’t get the memo, though, and when Quirin touched his shoulder, he jumped a foot in the air, slamming his back against the nearest table. Hector shot out a hand to steady it.

“Sorry.” Quirin backed away. “You were starting to breathe too heavily. Do we need to stop and come back later?”

“No.” Varian bit his lip. “If I stop, I won’t come back. I have to finish this now.” He turned his attention to the chemicals. Approaching the table slowly, he held out his hand, trembling fingers flitting over the glass bottles. Bright hues of pink, purple, blue, green, red, orange, and yellow glimmered up at him. Clear liquids and dark, earthy tones, phthalocyanines and metallics, all awaiting his selection.

His vision started to swim. Backing up, he rested his hands against the second table, bowing his head. “I— I can’t do this.”

“Varian—”

“Out,” he ordered. “Everybody, out! I need— I need to be alone.” When no one moved, he spun around and glared at them. “Now! I can’t— I can’t do this if you’re all in here. I need space.”

Quirin understood first, nodding. “Do as he says. All of you.”

Ruddiger chittered unhappily, clambering up onto Varian’s shoulder. Varian shook his head. “Not this time, buddy. Go with Dad.” One by one, they filed out, Quirin taking Ruddiger with him against the raccoon’s will. Only Hector stayed behind.

“Please,” Varian whispered. “I can’t do this if—”

“Kid.” Hector knelt down, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Varian, listen to me. I ain’t going nowhere. ‘Kay?”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered.

“You ain’t gonna hurt me. I trust you.” He brought his other hand up, resting them both on Varian’s upper arms. His thumb lightly traced over the parallel lines on Varian’s left bicep. “I trust you so much, kid. So I’ll only touch what you tell me to touch. I’ll stand where you tell me to stand. You tell me what to do, and it’s done.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“You’re worth that kind of trust.”

Varian shook his head. “I’m not! The last time I did this, it was the worst mistake I ever made. I tried to use this to hurt people. And then—and then they did this to me!” He rested his hand over his eye, turning away from Hector. “I’m not brave like you. I’m terrified . If I make a single mistake in here, I could hurt everyone.”

Hector sighed and shook his head. “You think that? Mi sol , you went through Hell and you came out with the devil’s blood on your teeth. You’re exceptional. If anyone is brave enough to do this, I know it’s you. Just the fact that you’re trying is proof enough for me. Now listen, we got two options here.” He held up one hand and ticked off on his fingers. “One: you let me do this for you. Tell me exactly what to do, and I’ll make the compound. You don’t gotta touch anything. All you have to do is talk me through it.”

He held up a second finger. “Or… you do this. This, what we’re doing here? All of this, this is something they stole from you. It was sick and sadistic, and he’ll pay for it. I swear he’ll pay. This was yours, something you loved, and he stole it from you. But only you can decide if he gets to keep it or not. If you do this, you’re taking it back. You don’t ever gotta do it again, but this is your chance to take it back if you want.” He let go of Varian, leaning back. “Do you remember what I told you about the Shadow Path?”

“Y-yeah?” Varian blinked at the seeming change in topic.

“Tell it to me.”

Taking a deep breath, he began, “The Shadow Path is the quickest way into the Dark Kingdom, but it’s also the most dangerous. It’s so dangerous that only knights ever used it. The black rocks cluster thickest there, and supposedly anyone who takes that road is faced with terrifying illusions before they reach the end.” He quirked his head to the side. “Huh. I wonder if there’s any connection between the effects of the Shadow Path and the red rocks? The rocks aren’t red there, but I guess because there wasn’t a human host—” He cut himself off. “Sorry. Anyway, if a knight was brave enough to take the Shadow Path, if they could make it past the illusions, then the view at the other end is the most beautiful spot in the Dark Kingdom, right on the edge of the mountains.”

“That’s right. Varian, this is your Shadow Path. You don’t have to take it. There’s other paths. But if you do, you’ll find a freedom at the other end you won’t get any other way.” He stood, crossing his arms. “Whatever you decide, I’ll respect your decision. You’re in charge here. And either way, I’m more proud of you than you could ever know.”

Varian looked past him to the rows of chemicals. Familiar equations began to play out in his mind, reactions waiting to happen. The books Ruddiger had set out sat at the edge of the table, their corners worn and weathered from countless hours flipping through the pages. He looked down at his arms, at his burns, labeling each mark with the name of the compound that had created it.

“I’ll do it,” he answered. “But I’ll need help. There should be a second set of gloves in that box; Dad used to help me some times, so I made him get some gear. There’s another pair of goggles, too.”

Hector’s eyes lit up, a sharp half-smile on his face. He retrieved the items. “Tell me what to do.”

O‴O‴O‴

When they emerged from the lab half an hour later, no one said a word. All four humans and all two animals merely looked to Varian and Hector, various stages of hope, exhaustion, and wariness written across their faces.

“I’ve got a compound I think will help,” Varian informed them. “But for it to work, we’ll have to get underground. Deep underground. Some kind of cavern or cave so I can get at the base of the rocks.”

Rapunzel nodded. “I can handle that.”

“Then let’s go.” Quirin stood and helped Ruddiger off his shoulders.

“No.” Varian shook his head. “I need you to stay here. You too, bud.”

“Son—”

“Dad. I can’t do what I need to if you’re down there with me.” He hefted his bag over his shoulder. 

Quirin opened his mouth to argue further, but Hector put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be with him,” he said. “Stay here and help keep everyone calm.”

“Hector,” Quirin growled.

Hector’s eyes narrowed. “He has to do this,” he hissed. Leaning closer to Quirin, he whispered something too low for Varian to make out. Quirin’s scowl softened, and he nodded.

“Fine. Stay with him every second,” he ordered. “Bring him back safe.”

Hector nodded. Gesturing to Quirin, Adira, and Eugene, he ordered, “You three, get to work. Rubia , get us underground.”

Rapunzel tilted her head in confusion but nodded and motioned for them to follow her. As they walked, she leaned over to Varian and whispered, “What did he call me?”

Varian laughed softly. “Blondie. It’s one of the nicer things he’s called you, so take it as a compliment.”

She giggled and hid her smile behind her hand. “I’ll take it. Does this mean I’m growing on him?”

“You won a little bit of favor after you stood up to your dad for us a few weeks ago.”

Rapunzel placed her hand against the stone wall, shoving one of the blocks inward. A portion of the wall slid back. “Well, here goes nothing, I guess. You remember your way through here?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed and wrung her hands together. Taking a light from off the wall, she stepped into the tunnel.

Varian followed, and Hector brought up the rear. 

The tunnels were just as dark and dank as he remembered. The further away from the coastline they traveled, the drier they grew, must and mold giving way to dust and cobwebs. They walked carefully, pointing out the various traps to Hector.

“You kids got some weird hobbies,” he muttered. “Back in my day, nothing good ever happened in a cave. All sorts of ruffians and rapscallions. I’d take a good forest any day.”

“Well, easiest way to sneak into the castle,” Varian answered with a shrug. “Gotta steal a useless flower somehow.”

Rapunzel snorted. “I can’t believe he never even tried to use it. He kept it locked up for years and didn’t even know it was dead!”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to test it first,” Varian laughed. “I had a concussion. Woulda made sense to test it on me. Then I coulda saved myself a lot of trouble.”

“Live and learn, I guess.” She gasped and stepped over a tripwire. “Careful.”

They passed most of the trip unhindered. Pascal managed to set off a trap once, nearly sending Varian plummeting into an oubliette, but Hector snagged him by the back of the collar and hauled him to safety. After that, the chameleon wasn’t allowed to touch anything. He bashfully hid behind Rapunzel’s hair.

Varian kept his eyes fixed on Rapunzel’s back as they walked, letting her guide them. He didn’t dare look to the sides, didn’t dare see the creeping yellow amidst all the red. Echoes of pained cries rang in his ears, clashing harshly against the cruel laughs and jeers of voices he’d hoped never to hear again. It was too much, it was all too much , why had he thought that any of this was a good idea?

Breaking his gaze away from the princess, he looked around. Thick iron bars separated sections of the cavern. He turned around, giving a muted cry at the sight of the bars blocking the way they’d come. Whirling back toward Hector, he couldn’t stop the noise that broke from his throat. Hector was gone.

“Varian!”

“Little brat. Shoulda killed you when we had the chance. More fun this way, though.”

“Aww, listen to him growl, like a feral cat!”

“Son, please!”

“I present our champion… David.”

“Get the doctor. I think a little bloodletting will make him feel better.”

“You will never see the light of day again.”

“Varian!”

“Varian!” Hector’s yellow eyes met his, his fingers curling around Varian’s shoulders. “Hey, look at me. Just at me. It’s not there. It’s not real.”

He stared up at him, eyes wide. “But it is,” he whispered. “All of it’s real. Everything they said. Everything they did. What I did.”

“Okay,” Hector answered calmly. “So it was real. It happened. And it’s done. It’s over. So whatever you’re seeing? It’s not there.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen again,” Varian answered. “What if I mess up again?”

Rapunzel stepped closer to him. Hector moved to give her space. “Varian,” she spoke softly, “that won’t happen. If you say this compound can save Corona, then I trust you. You won’t mess this up.”

“You don’t know that!” he yelled, backing away and putting a hand protectively over his bag. “Argh, I never should have let either of you come down here with me! If anything happens to you—”

“What could happen to us?” Rapunzel answered, offering him a bright smile. “We make a pretty good team. Your compound is going to work on the rocks, and we’ll be back upstairs before you know it and throwing a victory party!”

“What could happen?” He gave a half-laugh. “Rapunzel, do you know what this is?” He reached into his bag and pulled out a flask of a greenish-yellow liquid.

“It’s what’s going to sever the rocks’ power.”

“Yes,” he hissed, eyes narrowing. “But it’s also the same compound that encased my father. I had to recreate the worst experiment I ever made. What could happen is we could all get encased in amber down here, and everyone up there would get petrified, and Cassandra won’t even have to take over your kingdom because I’ll have done it for her! So you might be all optimistic and brave, but the fate of your kingdom doesn’t rely on you creating an unbreakable amber that already ruined your life once.”

“You think I’m brave?” Rapunzel’s smile fell, and her hands clenched into fists. “This isn’t bravery. I’m doing everything I can to stay positive, because that’s my job. I’m trying my best to be the leader everyone’s looking up to me to be. I’m terrified, Varian. I’m just not afraid of you .” She reached forward and took his hand. He let her. “I know we still need time before we’re okay, and I know you probably don’t want to be friends after everything, but I’m not scared of you, and I’m not scared of that .” She pointed to the flask. “If you say this works, I believe you. You’re incredible, Varian, and not just because you’re a genius. So… if you’ll try to be brave, I’ll try, too, okay?”

He put the flask back in his bag, brushing his wrist across his eyes. “’Kay.”

Beside them, Hector rolled his eyes and propped his hands on his hips, muttering in Spanish. “What the dickens do you kids think bravery is? It’s being scared off your rocker and still doing what you gotta do. Both of you are acting pretty brave right now.”

Rapunzel nudged Varian’s shoulder. “Was that a compliment? I got a compliment out of him!”

Varian laughed. “Progress!”

“Ah, shaddup,” Hector grumbled, turning away from them. “We gotta make tracks. Let’s go.”

“I’m winning him over,” she whispered smugly. “I can feel it!”

Hector groaned. “Sheesh, you’re as bad as Adira. Lead the way, Rubia .”

O‴O‴O‴

The Demanitus Chamber was everything and nothing Varian had expected.

The machine in the center stretched upward, pierced by thick spikes. Under the ground, rather than just a few pointed thorns here and there, the rocks had melded together, forming a monolith of jagged edges that shot off branches to every side. On the stone walls around the chamber were glyphs, written in Demanitus’ script. Varian translated quickly, reading a binding enchantment. Was Demanitus trying to keep something out, or was he trying to keep something in?

“I never did tell you about him!” Rapunzel exclaimed as they walked. “He trapped himself in the body of a monkey for a thousand years.”

“He— oh,” Varian mumbled. “Weird. But on brand for him.”

“Yeah. So was the death maze.”

“Can we maybe bond over Demanitus later?” Hector grumbled. “We got a kingdom to save, unfortunately.”

“Right.” She unloosed her hair from her braid. “Is this deep enough?”

Varian looked over the edge of the pit. “Should be. Okay, both of you, stand back.”

She looped her hair around his waist, then she and Hector backed away. Varian pulled out a flask and uncapped it. Closing his eyes, he tried to shut out the screams that echoed up from below. His hand trembled, refusing to move. Gritting his teeth, Varian worked his fingers loose, allowing the entire flask to fall into the pit. Rapunzel’s hair tightened around him, yanking him back and into Hector’s arms. Hector spun, grabbing Rapunzel and shoving both her and Varian behind him.

When nothing happened, Varian turned back to the pit. Stepping away from Hector’s arms, he ran back to the edge.

No amber.

Varian stared in dismay. Then he let out a string of Spanish, ranting about the rocks and throwing in a few choice words about Cassandra.

Hector hummed. “Nice job, but watch that verb conjugation.”

“Why didn’t it work?” Rapunzel asked. “Do we need to try another bottle?”

“No.” Varian put his head in his hands. “I’m an idiot! Whatever Cassandra did to change the rocks must have also changed their alchemical makeup.”

“What does that mean in practical terms?” Hector asked.

“It means the compound will only work on black rocks.”

“And there’s not a lot of those to choose from,” Rapunzel noted, looking around.

Hector tapped Varian’s shoulder. “I see one.” He pointed upward.

There, in the midst of the swarm of red, a single black spike protruded upward. All the way at the top of the cavern.

“King Edmund’s silk nightshirt,” Varian muttered under his breath.

Hector nodded. “Took the words right outta my mouth. ‘Kay, gimme the bag. I’ll get it.”

Varian drew back, clutching the strap of his bag. “No. I’ll do it.”

“Var—”

“I have to do this,” he insisted, leveling a stern glare at Hector. “You said you’d respect my decision, right? I have to do this.”

“Kid, you got nothing to prove. You already made the stuff. I ain’t gonna have you bustin’ your skull to get to a stormin’ rock two hundred feet in the air.”

Varian took a step backward. “This isn’t about proving myself. I can’t— I can’t let you—"

Hector sighed. “Oh. I see.” He knelt, putting a hand on Varian’s shoulder and looking up at him. “If I let you do this, kid, you gotta be careful. Get up and get back quickly.”

“I’ll go with him,” Rapunzel offered. “My hair can protect us both.”

Varian tensed. On ground level it was one thing, but that far in the air? Could he safely put his life in Rapunzel’s hands— or hair? He had tried that before, with unfortunate results. Why should this be any different? Of course, she needed him to get up there; her kingdom was at risk. So ideally, he could assume that her desire to keep Corona safe was enough motivation for her to keep him alive. But that wasn’t a guarantee.

Hector stepped closer to her, looming over her as he glared. “Swear it.”

She cast a quick glance to Varian. Then, turning back to Hector, she answered, “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. Not anymore. But I promise I’ll do my best.”

Somehow, those words comforted Varian more than if she’d promised she could keep him safe.

Hector looked between the two of them. “I don’t like it,” he grumbled, “but fine. Get up there.”

Varian tightened the straps of his bag. Tapping his fingers, he unsheathed his claws.

Rapunzel winked. “Race you to the top?”

“You’re on, princess.”

O‴O‴O‴

The voices grew louder the higher they climbed.

Varian ground his teeth so tightly he’d be surprised if one didn’t crack. His dad’s voice rang the loudest of all, and it took all his strength to keep from looking down. Had the compound he’d dropped earlier actually grown? Had Quirin come after them anyway and been caught? Had Hector been caught in it?

Rapunzel looked back at him, forcing a smile. “We’re almost there!”

He couldn’t answer.

Nonplussed, she picked up a different topic. “So— Spanish, huh?”

He nodded. “Yeah. All my family speaks multiple languages, so they’re all teaching me.”

“That’s fun! How’s it going?”

“It’s— It’s going pretty good. Easier than Russian, for sure.” He kept up a half-aware stream of chatter, sighing as the voices grew quieter. When Rapunzel ran out of questions to ask, he switched to mumbling verb conjugations.

The cavern gave a great heave, rocks clattering down from the ceiling as the machine under their hands and feet bucked and groaned. Varian clung to the paneling, his claws digging into the ancient wood. A sharp red glow began to dance at the edges of his fingers, creeping up the backs of his hands.

“Hurry, Varian!” Rapunzel called. “We don’t have much time!”

“I—I can’t!” he gasped, gripping the wood tighter. “I can’t do it, Rapunzel!”

“You can. You can’t give up now; we’re almost there!”

He shook his head, pressing his forehead into the machine. “I can’t use it!”

“Varian.” A hand touched his left shoulder. He looked up to see Rapunzel next to him, hanging from a length of her hair. “You can’t let your fear stop you. I’m scared, too, but we have to keep going.”

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say!” he scoffed. “You’re the literal Sundrop! You have indestructible hair! What could you possibly be afraid of?”

Something haunting danced behind her green eyes. She let go of him, clinging tighter to her hair. “Gothel,” she whispered.

“The woman who kidnapped you?” Varian bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“It’s okay. I’m working on it. I’m not afraid of her like I used to be. But I think there’s a part of me that still is. And… I see Corona, destroyed. It’s covered in black rocks. I’m—” She looked away. Then, in a broken voice, she confessed, “I’m afraid I’ll fail. That everyone’s expecting me to be someone I’m not, and I’ll fail. That the power of the Sundrop isn’t enough, and Cassandra’s going to destroy the kingdom, and it’ll be my fault . Because I wasn’t enough. Because I hurt her.”

“Rapunzel.” Varian slid closer to her, resting his hand over hers. “What Cassandra’s doing? That’s not your fault. She’s a grown woman, and she chose this. You couldn’t have stopped her.”

She scrubbed her wrist across her eyes, sniffing and giving him a small smile. “Thanks. But that means you can’t blame yourself either.”

“I—” He sighed and nodded. “’Kay.” Looking up, he fixed his gaze on their target. They were less than twenty feet below it. “Come on. First step to saving your kingdom is getting this stupid chemical onto that stupid rock.” Digging his claws in, he started to climb again. 

Behind him, Rapunzel gasped. “Varian, the rock!”

He looked up. The black rock had begun to shift, turning red at the base. “Oh, come on, that’s cheating!” he snarled. “Rapunzel, gimme a lift!”

“You got it!” A length of her hair shot out, wrapping around his waist. “Jump!”

He let go of the wood, throwing himself backward. The makeshift lasso tightened around him, and he swung precariously in the air, nothing below him but the gaping pit. He dug his fingers into the hair, his claws screeching as they scraped across the invincible strands. An arm of the machine held the hair, acting as their fulcrum.

“Here goes!” she yelled. Bracing her feet against the machine, she threw herself downward. Varian shot up, closing the distance in a matter of seconds. He lashed out at the machine, gripping the edge of a short platform just below the rock and pulling himself up the rest of the way. From down below, Rapunzel waved, and he gave her a thumbs-up.

Digging the flask out of his bag, he groaned, doubling over on the platform as the voices grew in intensity. They pounded in his brain, each one warring for a place of prominence as the overpowering victor. Which one would be the one to paralyze him? His father’s pained screams, calling out his name? David, with his constant taunts that always preceded his heavy fists? Frederic, seething in cold anger as he mercilessly delivered Varian’s fate?

His stomach twisted in knots. His hands rose to his arms; had he not had the presence of mind to retract his claws, he would have added several new scars to his collection as his fingers raked over his skin. The flask sat before him on the platform, tipped over on its side, its sickly yellow a taunting beacon. He reached for it with one shaking hand, but his muscles refused to allow him within an inch of the glass surface.

“C’mon,” he hissed. “C’mon, we’re right here! We can do this!” He clamped his hands over his ears, but the voices were inside his head, all around him, a part of him now. They were painted on his skin as clearly as the marks of his abuse, drowning him in their weight, choking him. He lifted a hand again, and metal clinked as the chains of his shackles rattled with the movement. 

He clenched his eyes shut, blocking out the sight. “It’s not real… it’s not real. It’s not there. There’s nothing on my wrists.” Keeping his eyes closed, he reached forward again, fingers closing around the neck of the flask. Without looking, he uncorked it, wincing as the acidic smell wafted through the air.

Okay. One problem down. Next: the rock. Stretching out with his senses the way Hector had taught him, he felt for the hum of dark energy surging through the stone. It buzzed and crackled through his brain, similar in texture to two rocks being scraped together quickly. There; just ahead, slightly to his left. He crawled forward until he was just within arm’s reach.

But how could he do it? When he had ruined everything so badly last time, when he had cost his father a year of his life, nearly killed him? When he had threatened the queen with this same serum? How could he willingly use it now?

“Scared, little boy?” David’s voice laughed from somewhere to his right.

A tear broke from his eye. “Yes,” he whispered, biting back the sob that rose in his throat. “But… not of you. You’re dead. Leave me alone.”

“’Leave me alone’,” David mocked. “What are you scared of, brat?”

“Me.”

Shoving his hand forward, he smashed the flask against the stone.

His eyes flew open as the familiar crackling of growing amber cut off the sound of the voices. They fell silent, retreating before the spreading tendrils. The rock, halfway to red, slowly darkened again as its surface sank below the amber. Scrambling backward, Varian reached for the edge of the platform, pulling himself away. He looked down over the edge, grimacing at the long fall waiting below.

The platform made the decision for him, cracking and splintering. His balance lost, he dropped, plummeting down toward the pit. The amber continued to grow, stretching out over the red rocks and forcing their light back as it crawled along every surface.

A golden glow surrounded him. Lashing out in panic, he clawed at it, only to find Rapunzel’s hair cocooning him in a protective sphere. She hovered next to him, arms stretched out to either side. They tumbled downward, slamming against the side of the machine.

Her hair unraveled, depositing them on the ground. Before Varian could stand, Hector had scooped him up into his arms, setting him upright as he looked him over for injuries. His hands ghosted over Varian’s arms. “Talk to me, kid. Does anything hurt? Any broken bones?”

“N-no, I’m good. I’m good.”

Hector ran his thumb underneath Varian’s mouth. It came away red.

“Oh,” he muttered. When had he done that?

Hector sighed and pulled him into a hug. “You did so good, kid. You’re incredible. I’m so proud of you.”

Varian sank into the embrace. Now that the rocks were their traditional color, the fear effect had faded. So then… why didn’t it feel better? Why didn’t he feel happy?

“Hey.” Hector knelt, resting his hands along the back of Varian’s neck so his fingers sat against the base of his skull. “It’s okay. It’s over.”

Varian nodded. Hector’s image had started to blur. He blinked, and tears began to fall. “I— I’m—”

“It’s okay. Let it go.”

Varian collapsed to the ground, letting Hector pull him against his chest. Silent sobs tore from his throat as he pressed his face into Hector’s tunic. The weight of what he’d done hit him all at once, pressing down on his thin shoulders until he suspected they’d crack under the strain. One large hand cradled his head, while the other rubbed up and down his back.

“You did it, Varian. You saved us. We’re alright. We’re alright.” Hector continued to whisper reassurances until Varian stopped shaking, until he was able to look up and dry his eyes. Hector pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You took your Shadow Path. You’re on the other side now. So you feel what you gotta feel; take your time. We ain’t in a hurry.”

Varian nodded. A deep exhaustion had made its home in his bones. Blinking rapidly, he muttered, “I want to see Dad. Can we— Can we get out of here?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can go.” Hector stood and helped Varian onto his back. “Rest for now, kid. You earned it.”

Varian leaned his head against Hector’s shoulder, closing his eyes. They went back through the tunnels, back up to the palace proper. His bag hung heavily at his side, the clinking of glass from inside rattling as they walked; somehow, though, the sound didn’t scare him the way it once would have. Familiar in its melody, it was his song, his rhythm.

And whatever he chose to do with it next would be his decision, not anyone else’s.

Chapter Text

The queen was gone when they arrived upstairs.

Rapunzel ran from room to room, throwing doors open. Varian and Hector followed at a more reasonable but no less concerned pace. Initially, Varian had planned to head directly to Quirin, but a glance from the window showed that he was fine and talking with Lance and Eugene, Ruddiger sitting peaceably on his shoulder. By Lance’s side were two girls.

“Mom!” Rapunzel shoved open another door, sighing. “Where would she have gone?”

Varian shrugged. “Is there anywhere in particular you would go if you just got un-petrified? Does she have an office or something?”

“She does, but— Oh, the gardens! I bet she went there.” She spun on her heel, but Hector held up his hand.

“Hang on. You hear that?”

“Hear what?”

He started walking. Varian and Rapunzel followed. Through the palace he led them, until they reached a small drawing room. Behind the door came the sound of soft gasps and sobs. Hector gave a polite knock before kicking the door open.

“You know it has a handle, right?” Rapunzel asked with raised eyebrow.

“Had,” he corrected.

Arianna sat on a chaise lounge inside, a damp handkerchief clenched in her fist. She jumped in alarm, but then sighed, resting her hand against her chest as she stood and crossed the room toward them. Rapunzel rushed to Arianna, hugging her tightly.

“Are you okay?” Arianna demanded, looking them over. Her eyes lit up as they landed on the two knights. “You came!”

“You called,” Hector answered. “We said we’d help. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Not a scratch.” She stepped closer, eyes searching Varian’s face for… something, he couldn’t say what. “You’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her.

Her shoulders slumped. “Thank goodness. I’ve been worried sick. When the rocks disappeared and I woke up, I wasn’t sure what to do or what had happened, and I— well, I needed some privacy,” she confessed, waving a hand around the room. Her red-rimmed eyes gave a good indication why. Whatever she had seen had shaken her badly. “But come; we’d better check on everyone else, hm?” Straightening up, she set a collected smile upon her face and swept from the room. The three followed her.

“You’re wearing your goggles,” she said to Varian as they walked. “May I presume that has something to do with how the rocks disappeared?”

He blushed and looked down. “I, um— I used alchemy again,” he admitted. “First time since…”

She stopped, turning to him and giving him a warm smile. “Varian, my dear, you have no idea how grateful I am to you. And how sorry I am that I had to ask you to come.” Hector and Rapunzel both backed away, giving them some privacy. She lifted a hand slightly, then dropped it back to her side. “I’m in your debt. I can’t imagine how difficult this was for you. And that you did it for us… Well, I don’t know how to ever make this up to you.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he stammered, “Well, I— it was nothing, really, just a little chemical solution.”

“It was more than that. You owed us nothing, especially not something like this.”

“Well. What are friends for? I mean, you didn’t have to help me or my family, but you did, so… this was the least I could do, really. I’m just— I’m just glad it worked.”

“Arianna!”

Varian tensed at the voice, instincts screaming for him to move, hide, fight, something! Locking his feet in place, he drew his shoulders back, giving a disdainful glare at Frederic as the man rounded the corner. Frederic gave him an equally disdainful glare back before turning his attention to his wife.

“My dear, get away from him,” he ordered, taking her by the arm and pulling her closer to his side. “You, boy, how dare you speak with the queen so freely!”

“Don’t start with me,” he snapped. “Nobody in this hallway is falling for it.” Behind him, Hector gave a short laugh. So did Rapunzel, though she tried to conceal hers as a cough.

“Frederic,” Arianna spoke calmly, but her eyes narrowed in a warning glance. “Varian has done our kingdom a great service. Perhaps a bit more courtesy for our rescuers?”

Seething, he let go of her arm, giving a curt nod to Varian. “Yes… Ahem. I suppose you did as we requested.”

He waved his hands around the hallway. “One rock-free kingdom, as ordered. Do you have what I asked for?”

The king turned scarlet. “Listen here, boy—”

“My dear,” Arianna chided, resting her hand on his arm. “Whatever you’ve agreed to, best to carry through.”

With the reluctance of a condemned man, Frederic reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded paper. Then his gaze flitted to his wife. “I would ask you to reconsider,” he warned, holding the paper just out of Varian’s reach. “What you are doing could destabilize the very kingdom you just saved. You risk inciting civil war. Can you live with that sort of blood on your hands?”

Hector snatched the paper before either Varian or Frederic realized he had moved. “He ain’t causing nothing. You did this. He’s just finally making you tell the truth. I know that’s difficult for you.” He handed the paper to Varian.

He unfolded the paper, reading it in silence. Rapunzel and Hector read over his shoulders. With each word, Varian’s fingers tightened around the declaration. A simmering rage flared in his chest. Though very little was a surprise to him, seeing it all written out offered him a better perspective of just how much he had truly done. With a start, he recognized Quirin’s neat handwriting. He must have made sure to “assist” Frederic while he put the list together.

A formal declaration of the actions undertaken by one Frederic Der Sonne, king of Corona, in regards to the matter of the black rocks.

Being warned aforetime that the chosen course of action would result in imbalance, willingly uprooted the Sundrop flower, in which lay the celestial power of light.

Required silence about the black rocks, in which lies the celestial power of darkness and which plagued Corona in search of the Sundrop flower. Forced into silence any who attempted to speak of the rocks, oftentimes by violence and threat.

Ordered arrest and interrogation of one Varian of Old Corona, under violence. By slander and libel prevented the aforementioned from receiving help from any in Corona...

And so the list continued, filling the paper front and back. Varian mentally detached as he read, viewing the list of the abuses done to him as if they were a distant fiction and not something he had lived through every agonizing second of. Quirin had at least phrased it tactfully, not detailing the specifics of his time in prison, only that he had been subjected to inhuman treatment and torture. Some items on the list were things even he hadn’t known about; political opponents removed from office, a network of spies and informants, threats against Old Corona if Quirin spoke out about what he knew.

With trembling fingers, Rapunzel pulled the paper from Varian’s hands. “All of this?” she whispered, a single tear falling to stain the page. “Dad?”

“Rapunzel.” A steel-cold glint in his eyes, Frederic rested one hand on the hilt of his sword— when had he started wearing that?— and leaned forward. “I don’t expect you to understand why I did this. As leaders, we are called to make difficult decisions. It’s a burden of our role. The crown is heavy, and if you don’t have the strength to bear it, it will crush you.”

She shook her head slowly. “Not like this,” she answered softly. “Never like this. Varian, I’ll make sure this gets published. Word for word.”

“Thanks, Rapunzel. Oh, what about the rest of it?” he ordered.

Frederic sighed and rested his forehead in his hand. “Your pardon has been registered with the courts. You’re a free man now. And, as agreed upon, no further action will be taken upon you or your family.” He shot a glare at Hector at that last part. “You are still forbidden from Corona without royal permission, though. Step foot in our kingdom again, and I’ll have you thrown right back in your old cell.”

“Believe me,” Varian hissed. “You couldn’t pay me to come back here unless your wife asked. Are we done here?”

“We’re done. I expect you out by sunset.”

“Consider us gone.” Varian walked past him, keeping a wide berth. He kept the man on his left as he walked. Hector and Rapunzel followed. To his surprise, Arianna followed as well, against the protests of her husband.

“You must be hungry,” she said as they continued down the halls. “I’ll have some food brought out to the gardens. What do your binturongs eat?”

Hector started. “Oh. Um, they’re omnivorous. Any sort of meat, really, and fruits and vegetables. Do you have figs? They love those.”

“I think I can find some. And your rhinoceros?”

“Herbivore.”

“Excellent. I’d love to meet them, if I could.”

His eyes widened. “O-Of course. They’re fairly solitary, but they know their manners.”

They stopped at the kitchen for a moment for Arianna to arrange a picnic to be sent out. From there, they headed for the outside to meet up with Quirin and Adira. Hector took a side door leading outside to go get their creature companions after ensuring that Arianna was keeping an eye on him. As they traveled, Varian tried to shut out the glances and whispers sent their way. These, though, weren’t accusatory or vitriolic. Rather, they seemed almost… curious. As Rapunzel stepped aside to talk to a few people, their gazes changed from curious to admiring. He turned his eyes toward the ground and walked faster.

O‴O‴O‴

Outside on a tiered patio overlooking the garden, fabric awning dancing gently in the breeze, the remaining members of the Brotherhood waited with Lance and Eugene. The two girls he had seen earlier from a distance now ran around, chasing Ruddiger. Varian tensed and prepared to step forward, but Ruddiger chattered happily, hopping up onto the taller girl’s shoulder and jumping to land on the other’s head. Then he scrambled down, racing up Qurin’s shoulder and sticking his tongue out at them. When he saw Varian, though, he gave a long screech and flung himself at him. Varian grunted as he got an armful of raccoon.

“Hey, bud,” he laughed. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

“Varian!” Lance came over, motioning the girls with him. “I want you to meet my daughters, Catalina and Keira.”

Daughters? Varian’s mind went blank. Had Lance mentioned anything about daughters while they were traveling together? And would he have left them in Corona for a year by themselves? Clearly Lance didn’t expect him to remember them, since he was introducing them, which at least spared him the uncomfortable social faux pas of having been told they existed but forgetting that little fact. Oh, storms, if Lance had left them here, then it would have been with an adult, right? Then did that mean he was married? Had he been flirting with Adira while knowing full well he was a married man?!

Seemingly oblivious to his panic, Lance continued, “Wow, it still feels so weird to say that. Daughters. I’ve got kids, man! I adopted the girls a few weeks ago. Met them last year, but we parted ways for a while, and now they’re back in Corona!”

Varian breathed a deep sigh. “Oh. Okay. Nice to meet you.” There, that was polite enough, right? His social interactions recently had been limited to either his family or people trying to kill him. How was one supposed to react to their maybe-friend suddenly saying he had kids?

Keira tilted her head and gave him a scrutinizing once-over. “Why do you look like that?”

“Keira!” Lance chided. “We don’t just ask people about their scars like that. Manners!”

“Scars?” She curled her lip. “I meant his outfit. Although the scars are cool, I guess. Pretty intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” Varian took a half-step back, biting his lip. No one had ever referred to his scars as intimidating before. Mostly, people looked at him with pity. Some in disgust. Keira and Catalina looked at him with neither. “I— I hadn’t thought about it that way. You think so?”

“Yeah!” Catalina grinned. “All the storybook heroes have a cool scar somewhere. Is that why you wear sleeveless shirts? So people know not to mess with you?”

Lance put a hand on each of their heads. “That’s enough, girls. I think we need to give our friend a break, huh?” Over their heads, he mouthed, “Sorry.”

Varian shrugged. “It’s okay, Lance. I don’t mind.” To the girls, he answered, “I… I got hurt. Bad. Spent about half a year in prison. It, ah… wasn’t exactly a vacation.” Their smiles fell as he spoke, and he winced; now, surely, they would turn their pity to him, see him as weak and helpless. But, despite that expectation, it never came. Instead, a haunting empathy etched itself on their faces.

“Oh,” Catalina said softly. “I’m sorry. That’s not fair. For them to do that to you.”

He nodded, voice sticking in his throat. “Y-Yeah. I know.”

“We were lucky,” Keira added, a tinge of bitterness coloring her words. “Lance helped us before we got into any big trouble.

Ah. So it was empathy. “You were criminals, too?”

Lance smiled fondly as he looked at the girls, who fidgeted like standing still was difficult. That, at least, was something else they had in common. “It’s a bit of a long story,” he explained. “We found them in a pretty bad way. Turned to theft to try to get by. I guess… I saw what happened to you, and I couldn’t stand the thought of that happening to them. So when we got back to Corona and saw they’d moved back, we started hanging out some. One thing led to another, and now the Schnitz family is a little bigger!”

“Dad,” Catalina whined, a scarlet blush on her cheeks as she gritted her teeth. “I thought we agreed to go with Strongbow.”

“Right! Right. The Strongbow family!”

A small laugh broke from Varian’s throat before he realized what had happened. Lance grinned triumphantly. Quickly schooling his features, he offered the girls a courteous bow. “Keira and Catalina Strongbow, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And yours, Sir Varian,” Catalina answered, giving an overdramatized curtsy in return. Keira simply rolled her eyes. Varian shot an accusing glare at Lance, who simply held up his hands innocently.

“Okay, so I may have mentioned you to them,” he admitted. “So sue me. It was late, they couldn’t sleep, I may have made up a bedtime story that was maybe not exactly entirely one hundred percent fictional.”

Hector spared him from having to answer as he rounded the corner, animals in tow. Catalina and Keira gasped at the sight of the bearcats, only Lance’s quick grip on their shirts keeping them from rushing at the creatures. Varian left them and hurried to Hector’s side. There must have been a better way to extricate himself from the conversation, but being as little-versed in societal conventions as he was, it seemed the best option.

As he walked away from Lance, Adira approached the man, pulling a locked box out of her bag. He nodded his thanks, murmuring something to her Varian couldn’t hear. She gave a short nod in exchange. The box was a familiar oak with iron bands; the one they’d gotten from the caravan, holding Demanitus’s notes. Lance must have been the one to send for them, then; he still had the translation key Varian had given him in the Dark Kingdom.

A few servants brought out food shortly thereafter, Faith among them. She waved shyly to Varian, who waved back. He gathered some food for himself and Ruddiger and found a place for them on the lawn, ignoring the iron-wrought chairs and tables on the patio. Turning to Hector, he froze; Hector had already found a place. On the patio steps. Next to the queen.

O‴O‴O‴

If the queen needed another point in her favor, Riki and Kiki liked her. That was enough for Hector.

They tussled about on the lawn, nipping at each other harmlessly until Hector whistled and tossed them some fruit. Arianna took a fig and tossed it to Riki. The bearcat snatched it from the air and trundled over to her, nudging her knee with his head. She obligingly scratched behind his bushy ears. Seeing the attention his brother was getting, Kiki pushed him out of the way. Arianna giggled, offering him her other hand.

Hector glanced over to Varian, who sat on the ground near Lance. Adira lounged nearby, also watching the two. Satisfied Varian was well, he leaned back, letting the sunlight soak into his skin. After the dark enclosure of the tunnels, the light was a welcome reprieve. Underground spaces made no sense to him; why would anyone choose to spend their time below the surface when there were perfectly good forests and jungles? Although, he had to admit, the materials to make weapons traditionally came from under the ground, and he did love weapons.

“They’re incredible,” Arianna murmured, drawing his attention. He opened his eyes to see her watching the binturongs, a girlish smile splayed across her features. It was so unlike her customary composure, and yet so similar to her daughter. “Where did you find them?”

“A wizard,” he shared. “Found the sick freak studying the effects of dark magic on animals. So I studied the effect of my sword on his kneecaps.” He coughed. “Uh, sorry. That was a little—”

“Fair,” she interrupted, her hands clenched into fists. “Your reaction sounds perfectly reasonable.” Relaxing, she continued, “Is that why they’re larger than most of their species?”

“Yeah. Live longer, too. So does Kubwa. Got him from the psycho, too.” He checked Varian’s location one more time, then closed his eyes, tipping his head back.

She turned a worrying gaze upon him. “How are you? Really.”

“Huh?” He cracked one eye open.

“You’re very tense. And… I can’t help but notice you’ve barely taken your eyes off Varian for more than five seconds since we’ve been out here. I understand Corona isn’t the safest place for him right now, but I suspect there’s more to it than that.”

With a shrug, he answered, “It’s been a rough day. I’m a little stressed.”

“Hector,” she chided. “Be honest with me. What you saw, with the rocks… it has something to do with him?”

He stiffened, shifting away from her slightly and turning to face her more fully. She maintained her position, unbothered by his sudden change. “What?”

With a dry smile, she continued, “I know it’s not something we like to talk about. And I know I don’t have your confidence the way your family does. But… sometimes it helps to talk to someone you’re not close with, rather than try to confess what you’re feeling to the people whose hands you’d put your life into.”

He drew in a quick breath, her words cutting deeper than he would like to admit. “What about you?” he deflected. “Is your fear about your daughter? Losing her?”

“Shockingly, no.” She smiled fondly at Rapunzel, who leaned against Eugene with her eyes closed. The princess’s fingers worked at a growing pile of daisies in her lap. “I thought it would be. But… I lived with that reality for eighteen years. And now that I have her back, I know she can take care of herself. I trust her to be careful. I know she has friends who will stand with her.” Her smile fell. “At least, she has some who will.”

“Hm.” Hector clasped his hands together, rubbing his thumb along the back of his tattooed hand. “Then what do you fear? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“It’s only fair; I asked you.” She hesitated, brows scrunching as she stared down at the grass. “I… as terrible as it sounds, I saw Varian. Not like that,” she amended quickly. “No, I was… I saw him hurt. Because of…”

“Because of the king?”

She nodded.

“Are you afraid of him?”

Her expression hardened. “No. And… yes. I’m not afraid he’ll hurt me. But… I’m afraid of who he is as a person. He locked our daughter up to protect her. He’s persecuted his citizens for years. He sees nothing wrong with abusing a child. That… that scares me. That I misjudged him so badly.”

“Sometimes, people are pretty good at hiding what they don’t want you to see.”

“And sometimes, people are very good at not seeing the things they don’t want to see. I should have started asking questions when he put bars on my daughter’s window. But instead, I kept my mouth shut and let him do what he wanted. It took me six months after that to realize just what he was capable of, and I only saw that because I quite literally couldn’t avoid seeing. Watching you carry Varian out of the prisons, I… I couldn’t avoid it any longer. For me to be able to decide in an instant that you, a complete stranger, were the safest option for him, I think that’s enough of an indication I knew something wasn’t right.” She bowed her head, wringing her hands together. “Perhaps if I’d started asking questions sooner, I could have saved him so much pain.”

“And you also coulda got yourself caught before you could do anything to help him.” Sighing deeply, he slouched forward. “I… saw him hurt, too. But I couldn’t help him. I was stuck. Useless. I was being strangled by… by vines. They’re all over me. Around my throat. I can’t breathe. And I can’t get to him. All my strength, all my skill as a warrior, and I’m completely useless. I can’t even protect my own kid.” His hands reached up to rake through his braids.

Her hand rested over his, squeezing it gently. “Hector,” she spoke calmly, pulling his hand down to rest on his knee. “Present moment. Where are you?” By his feet, the bearcats pressed themselves into his legs, purring loudly to draw his attention.

He dragged in a raspy breath. “Gardens. Corona, unfortunately.”

“That’s right.”

He sagged forward like a marionette with cut strings. One hand, the one she wasn’t still holding, strayed down to run through Kiki’s fur. “Sorry. I’m usually not… I can normally keep it under control.”

“Well, as you said, it’s been a rather stressful day.” She looked around the garden. “Vines, hm? Do we need to go somewhere else if plants bother you?”

A warm twinge spread through his chest at her thoughtfulness. “No. It’s— It’s not all plants, just vines. I lived in a tree for twenty-five years. I prefer being out in nature.”

“Then, if I may ask, why do they bother you?”

His breath caught. He hadn’t even spoken to Quirin about this, and his admission to Adira was under duress. But… while he hesitated to speak of it to his siblings, a part of him ached to release the burden he carried, to let someone else in on the secret for once. To not have to carry it alone. And if he were going to speak of it, maybe she was right; it would be easier to confess to someone who wasn’t close to him personally, who didn’t have years of history with him. And she had explained hers to him, after all. “My home. The Great Tree. It’s gone now. The handmaiden— Cassandra. She got possessed by the spirit of Zhan Tiri. The vines in the tree came to life and… they destroyed everything. Tore the Tree down around us. Nearly killed us all. Then again, when we went to the House of Yesterday’s Tomorrow. They were there, too; Zhan Tiri’s power resides inside of them.” He shuddered, straightening back up. “I nearly died in my own house. Then I watched it fall apart. The place I’d lived for years. The very vines I’d seen and touched a hundred times a day. My home nearly killed me and Varian both.”

She exhaled softly, her thumb tracing over the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how horrible that was.”

He could only nod.

“Thank you for trusting me with that,” she continued gently. “I know that’s not easy.”

“Thank you… thank you for listening.”

“Anytime. It’s what friends do.”

He froze, certain now he wasn’t breathing. Friends? He’d been amused when Varian had shown his astonishment at the title the queen had given him, but now that it was directed toward him, he double-questioned its meaning. “Friends?”

She laughed. “You and Varian are remarkably similar. Yes, I consider you a friend, Hector. I’d be honored if you thought the same of me, but I won’t ask you to if you’re not comfortable with the idea.”

“N-No, that’s good! I don’t mind. Just… I don’t get a lot of friends. Tree hermit and all.”

“Yes, I can see how that’s bad for socializing,” she answered with a grin.

The tension bled from his shoulders. With a half-smile, he turned his hand so her palm was resting in his. “Mi Reina, I’d be honored to call you a friend.”

O‴O‴O‴

 As the sun set below the coastline, its rays set the capital alight with a soft glow. Arianna watched from a seat in the sunroom, her cup of tea long grown cold in her hands as she stared through the broken window before her. Far below, the town criers and heralds would be spreading the word by now, Frederic’s misdeeds and crimes posted on every display board and echoed in every inn and tavern. By now, the capital would be full of the news, and the towns and cities further outward would receive word from horseback messengers.

Though Frederic had threatened and blustered, he had relented and allowed the word to go out. Rapunzel had taken charge of publishing the news, having copies typed up and sent to every corner of the kingdom. The message would undoubtedly sow discord and confusion throughout the land, leaving their citizens reeling. As terrifying as it had been for her to learn of Frederic’s sins, how much worse would it be for their people, who look to their king for guidance? For protection?

Of course, as his public façade fell, the Coronans would be searching for a new figurehead, someone steady to look to for direction. Someone who they could believe would repair the damage Frederic had caused. And thanks to the work she’d been doing for the last few months, she was in perfect position to fill that void. Initially, she had been taken aback when she’d learned what Varian demanded in exchange for his help— impressed, yes, but concerned that it would interrupt her plans. Upon reflection, though, this was exactly what she needed. He had only moved her timetable forward a bit. The destabilization of control was an inevitable part of this coup. When the citizens turned upon the monarchy, it would be she who would hold it together, keep everything in line and keep Frederic’s place on the throne secure until she replaced him.

Footsteps echoed on the tile floor behind her. She didn’t turn to look, didn’t react when Frederic’s hands settled on her shoulders. Those large hands that had rubbed her aching shoulders after long days, that had held their baby girl so gently so many years ago. Those hands that held the strength to slip up and close around her throat, crushing until she couldn’t breathe. Those hands that never would, that had never hurt her in any way. No matter how long his hands rested on her shoulders, he would never dream of bringing harm to her, his queen, his treasure. Ironic, in a sick way; she was the person closest to him, to his bloodstained legacy, and she was the one person who was untouchable. Invincible.

That wouldn’t stop him from ordering her death at the hands of another if he should discover her plan.

“We’ll start repairs immediately.” His thumbs traced along the base of her neck, applying gentle pressure to the tight knots in her muscles. “This palace will be even better than before.”

“I hardly think the palace is our biggest priority right now,” she answered. “The weather is softening; a little broken glass won’t hurt anything.”

“This is our home.”

“And our citizens have lost far more than a few panes of glass and some fancy tiling. Many of them lost their homes entirely. We need to focus our recovery efforts on the more damaged areas first.”

“Arianna,” he insisted, voice strained. “Our castle is a symbol of our strength; you know this. In light of… recent revelations, we must be stronger than ever. Otherwise, we risk inviting conflict from our neighboring kingdoms.”

She set her teacup aside on a small table with a light clink. Standing, she brushed the front of her skirt down and turned to face Frederic. “And what of our people? What good is a symbol of strength when they’re weakened and hurt? Or is all you can think about right now image?”

He winced. Then, with a sigh, he replied, “Is this about that boy? Don’t fear, my love; we’ll recover from this, just as we recovered from his last attack. Public opinion is fickle and easily swayed. Give them time to settle down; then everything will go back to normal.”

Heat burned in her stomach, a sharp dagger twisting at the base of her spine. “Is that all you have to say about this? About what that paper said? It’ll all go back to normal? Will things ever be normal for Varian again?”

“Arianna.” He stepped closer to her and took her hands in his. “What is this about? He doesn’t deserve your sympathy. Not after what he did to you. You’ve never questioned my judgments before. Why do you doubt me now?”

“Because I don’t know this side of you.” She reached a hand up, setting it against the side of his face. “Where’s the man I fell in love with? The one who wrote me all those beautiful letters, who danced with me under the harvest moon? You’ve changed, and not for the better. I miss you. The old you. Where did he go?”

He leaned into her touch. “I have only ever done what I felt was necessary to protect this kingdom— to protect my family— from threats.”

She drew back. “And was he a threat? It was over, Frederic. He was in jail. What could he have possibly done? What was so urgent that you felt you had to do that to him?”

“I had to ensure he would never hurt you again. He had to be thoroughly disarmed.”

“So you took his eye. You burned him with his own chemicals. He was fourteen, Frederic!” Her voice cracked. “Look at our daughter. Imagine what she would have been like at his age. Could you have done that to her?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why? Tell me why! He was no threat.” When he didn’t answer, she pressed, “Say something! Give me something to work with! Was it revenge? Pettiness?”

He stared over her shoulder, through the broken glass. For several long seconds, they stood in silence. Arianna bit back the storm of words at her lips. Raging at Frederic would serve no purpose.

“I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t surprised,” he finally spoke, not meeting her eyes. “When you read the list. You weren’t caught off guard at all. As if you already knew.” She started to speak, but he cut her off. “You did, didn’t you? You knew about the boy. About all of it.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes,” she admitted.

“When that braided barbarian left with him. You saw them. You knew it was the alchemist. And you said nothing. You let them go.”

“Yes.”

He exhaled, shoulders slumping. “Why?”

She lifted her chin. “Why not? When I saw Varian, and please say his name, I chose to let him go because I don’t need revenge the way you do. I don’t have to hurt him to feel better about what happened to me. I forgave him. Perhaps it’s time you do the same.”

His gaze hardened. “No. You may have softened your heart to him, but I still remember what he did. He’s still a threat, and he always will be. As king, it’s my duty to tend to the safety of our kingdom, and I won’t jeopardize that for one child.”

“And how many more children will have to suffer until you deem us ‘safe’?” She stepped away from him. “This isn’t about the kingdom, is it? This is about us. Our family. You felt threatened by him, so you abused him. How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing everything you did to him was in my name? That you hurt him because he hurt me? How am I supposed to live with that?” She blinked tears out of her eyes. “Tell me, Frederic!”

He didn’t answer.

Arianna started to walk past him. His hand lashed out, wrapping around her bicep. Not painfully, but still she froze. The heat was gone, replaced with ice that ran through her veins, chilling her words. “Do you intend to hurt me, Frederic?”

He gasped and let go of her arm. “I could never,” he rasped. “My love, you know I could never.”

She tilted her head up to look in his eyes. “You don’t have to touch someone to hurt them.”

Heading for the door of the sunroom, she waved at a passing maid. “Ethel, a moment of your time?” Ethel nodded. “Thank you. I’d like your assistance carrying my personal belongings to Rapunzel’s room.”

Ethel bowed. “Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll call for a few others to help.” She hurried back down toward the servants’ quarters.

Behind her, Frederic approached, reaching out a hand to set on her shoulder. She stepped out of reach. “My queen,” he pleaded softly. “Don’t do this.”

“I need space, Fred,” she ordered, leaning on his old nickname. “Please… just give me some time to think.”

He sighed and nodded.

Ethel returned with Faith and Friedborg, as well as two manservants, Jasper and Leon, to carry her trunks. The small party of six started off down the hall, leaving Frederic behind. A sharp pang throbbed in Arianna’s heart with each step, but she shoved the feeling aside. This, too, was inevitable. Letting the ice in her veins spread to her heart, she released any regret and pain she carried into the swirling blizzard it was creating. It would be her armor, her walls. And none of Frederic’s honeyed words or warm touches would melt it, ever again.

Chapter Text

The airship dropped them off about a week’s journey from the Great Tree. They shared their goodbyes with the captain, Lance, and Rapunzel, who had insisted on accompanying them on the return trip. She’d asked if she could travel with them to confront Cassandra, but Hector had turned her down.

“You ain’t the person she wants to see right now,” he warned. “She hates us, but it’s personal with you. You’ll get your chance to talk to her if we can take her down peaceably.”

After disembarking, Quirin took point while Adira scouted. Hector and Varian fell to the back with Kubwa, chatting quietly. Considering the distances they’d already covered, a week’s travel was a short journey for them, but it was a week into the unknown, with no clue if Cassandra had beaten them to the tree or not. And if she had, they still had no answer for their biggest mystery: how they were going to fight her without an encore of her new ability.

Inside Varian’s bag, glass rattled softly. He’d packed up all the supplies he could carry, leaving the rest in Rapunzel’s keeping. He still had a few flasks of the amber; worst case scenario, it would make an ideal weapon against someone who surrounded herself with black rocks. One remaining vial of his truth serum had survived as well, though how he could bring himself to use that again, he couldn’t imagine. Not after what they’d done to him with it. He brought a hand up to rub at his aching bicep.

“You good?” Hector asked from behind him.

“Y-Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?”

He bit his lip softly. “What do you think we’ll face at the Tree?”

Hector shuddered. “Hopefully nothing. I’d rather not see it at all, not like that. But I made sure the spear was sitting solid inside that— inside that pile of vines before we left, so we shouldn’t have any problems there. Best possibility, we watch our steps real carefully. Worst possibility, we see Short Hair, and I get to do a little sword therapy.”

They made camp early that evening by a small creek, before the sun set. Even though he had the contents of his bag memorized, Varian copied Adira’s habit of taking inventory of every item. Though Hector tended to complain it was a waste of time, Adira explained it as ensuring that nothing had been stolen or that something hadn’t been used without her knowing. And with alchemy, he wasn’t taking any chances that someone had been in his stuff without his permission. His family wouldn’t, of course, but always better to start good habits before a problem came up rather than doing damage control after.

Satisfied everything was in order, he placed the bag away and stretched out by the creek, listening to the soft rippling of the water over rocks. Somewhere off to the other side of camp, Quirin and Hector had started an argument about one of the Dark Kingdom’s card games, considering the matter of just how many cards each player was supposed to begin with.

“It’s always been nine,” Hector growled. “You seriously telling me you can’t remember? We played it on every road trip.”

“It was always seven. You remember having nine cards because you were a cheat.”

Hector gasped, putting a hand to his heart. “Take it back!”

“It’s true and you know it. You kept one extra up each sleeve.”

“I always wore short sleeves,” he shot back. “I kept them in my boots.

Adira approached Varian, scuffing her foot against the ground to catch his attention. He looked up at her, and she gestured with her head off to the side. “Let’s scout.”

He stood and followed her, Ruddiger by his side. They wandered over the creek and further into the woods. In the golden hour just before sunset, the leaves were alight with dancing fire, with birds dipping in and out of the branches around them.

About ten minutes from camp, Adira stopped. “Take the east. I’ll go west.”

“I can go by myself?”

She shrugged. “You’re a knight, aren’t you? Your training hasn’t been very traditional, and I’m sorry for that. I wish you could have had what we had. But we improvise.”

He shrugged. “Eh. I can do unconventional.” He held out his arm to Ruddiger, who hopped up to his shoulder. “What time do we need to meet up?”

“One hour. Be back here before sunset.”

“Got it.” He gave a quick military bow, the way Hector had taught, then turned to the east. “C’mon, bud, let’s see what’s out there.”

“And be careful,” Adira called to them as they split up. “Hector will have my head if anything happens to you.”

He waved in acknowledgement.

In this part of the woods, it was highly unlikely they’d run into anything. Otherwise Adira, as careful as she was, wouldn’t have let them go by themselves. Varian didn’t attempt to deceive himself; though he was older than his family had been when they were chosen, they’d had far more experience than he at this age. Whereas they might have been allowed to go off on solo missions, none of the three adults considered him ready for that. It stung a little; he’d been on his own before, after all. But most of that time had been spent merely trying to survive, so it probably didn’t count.

In all likelihood, Adira was probably just trying to give him some space. It was a kind gesture; despite the time relaxing in the gardens and the time it had taken to get back here, everyone was still somewhat on edge. Hector wouldn’t stop checking on Varian every few seconds, and Quirin checked and double checked their weapons and security protocols. Only Adira seemed relatively calm, though that was likely in part due to her meditations. But Varian noticed the stiff set of her shoulders and the way she occasionally withdrew into herself as if remembering some horror the others hadn’t seen.

For the first thirty minutes, their scouting revealed nothing of note. The evening crept up slow and clear, with nothing to break the stillness but the calling of songbirds and the chatter of the occasional squirrel. Ruddiger located an apple tree, much to his delight, so they snagged a few for later.

Just as they were preparing to turn back, the smell of smoke came wafting through the trees. Varian frowned and turned toward that direction. Ruddiger whined unhappily, tugging at his hair. Varian shook his tiny paws away. “Come on, this is what we’re out here for, isn’t it? Could be trouble. What if someone needs us?”

With a sigh, Ruddiger slumped against his shoulder.

They pushed through the trees, brushing branches out of their way. The smell grew stronger as they walked, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, overlayed with the aroma of roasting meat. Light flickered between the thin trunks, guiding their way.

As they approached, Varian lowered himself to the ground, crawling through the brush. A small, ramshackle cabin sat at the base of a cliff. Out front was a small campfire, five men around it. Two of them paced warily, while one nursed a broken arm. The last two worked on cooking their rough meal.

Varian bit back a hiss of shock. Their ragged yellow coats stood out against the dark trees around them.

He looked around the fire even as he withdrew further into the foliage. Besides the one Hector had killed, there had been six others, right? So where was the last one? In the cabin still? Clamping his hand over Ruddiger’s snout, he slid backward, intent on getting back to camp without being spotted. He hadn’t even managed to fight one; no chance he’d be able to hold his own against five, even if they did look a little worse for wear.

He froze as thudding footsteps echoed on the ground. The sixth man burst into the clearing from off to Varian’s left. “We gotta make tracks!” he yelled. “I think they’re on to us!”

“Who?” the one with the broken arm grumbled. “We came from the north. Nobody followed us, unless you mean the crazy woman.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the Brotherhood,” their scout growled. “They’re set up not an hour from here.”

The camp broke into chaos. The two pacers began packing. The ones who were cooking disentangled their food from the fire. Only the injured one seemed unconcerned. With a start, Varian recognized him as their leader. “Calm down,” he ordered. “Ya bunch of skittish cats. If they set up camp, it means they don’t know we’re here. Else they’d’ve come got us already.”

“You’re one to talk,” one of the pacers snapped. “We’re the ones risking our necks out here while you get to sit all nice and pretty in camp.”

“You wanna be the one to have to talk to the madwoman, be my guest,” he snapped, drawing his arm closer to his chest. “She’s as bad as them.”

Varian withdrew behind the trees. “Go get Adira,” he whispered to Ruddiger. “Now!” Ruddiger shook his head, but Varian nudged him away. “Hurry! We can’t lose them this time. I’ll track them if they move, and you can follow me once you find her.”

Ruddiger shrunk down, shaking his head, but he spun and took off into the trees. Varian turned back to the cabin, slinking closer. He bit his tongue to stifle a gasp. Where there had been six men in the clearing, now there were only four. Had the other two retreated inside while his back was turned? Some scout he was!

The remaining four finished clearing the front yard and hurried into the cabin. Varian slunk closer, craning his head to see through the windows. So intent was he on his surveillance that he didn’t notice the figures creeping up behind him until a branch snapped underfoot.

He whirled around, reaching for his sword. Two Yellowjackets stood above him. One gave a cruel smile. “Hello, Varian.”

Then something struck him over the head, and he fell to the forest floor, out cold.

O‴O‴O‴

Quirin’s arms latched underneath Hector’s, pinning him against his chest. Hector slammed his head back, eliciting a grunt of pain, but Quirin’s grip didn’t slack an inch. He kicked and snarled, thrashing his head from side to side to find something to bite.

“Calmaté,” Quirin ordered. “Control yourself.”

“You stormin’ control yourself and let me go!” He gave another wrench, lunging toward Adira, who stood unmoved before him. A flicker of guilt crossed her features—not enough, in his opinion. “You had no right!” he screamed, a sick satisfaction settling in his chest as she winced. “I trusted you.”

“And you still can,” she answered calmly. “If you’ll stop acting like a petulant child and start moving, we’ll get there a lot quicker.”

“Don’t aggravate him,” Quirin chided. “Hector, we’re wasting time. Do you want to fight Adira or the people who took Varian? We don’t have time for both.”

“I can make time,” he seethed. Drawing in a deep breath, he relaxed against Quirin’s grip. “Let me go. I can focus.”

“Good.” Quirin released him, and he straightened, brushing off the front of his tunic. “Adira did only what she thought was best. She trusts Varian, as do I. This couldn’t have been foreseen.”

“Yeah, whatever. C’mon, you said we’re wasting time. Let’s go.” He shoved past Adira, roughly slamming his shoulder against her.

As he was the only one with a clue to Varian’s whereabouts, Ruddiger led the way through the woods, Hector inches behind his furry tail. Adira ran behind and a few steps to his right, while Quirin brought up the rear. Though he knew she’d likely make him pay for it later, he couldn’t bring himself to regret snapping at her. She had intentionally left Varian by himself in the middle of enemy territory. Never mind that they weren’t actively at war with any city, county or nation at the moment; any location in which hostiles like Short Hair could find them were considered enemy territory. It wasn’t a matter of trusting Varian or not; it was that Hector couldn’t trust anyone else.

And now that included his sister.

O‴O‴O‴

With a pained groan, Varian forced his eyes open and looked around. If it wasn’t enough for his head to feel like he’d been run over by an ox cart, his assailants had decided to argue right above his head. Loudly.

They hadn’t bothered to move, like idiots, still standing around in the very same cabin. Varian lay on the ground near the center of the room, his eyelashes fluttering against the dust as he blinked. His hands were bound behind his back. Above him, the six men stood around, their voices echoing through the wooden structure.

“I don’t trust her,” one snapped. “We don’t owe her anything. We didn’t even have to take this job!”

“But we did,” their boss cut back. “We took a vote and agreed to take the job. We gotta see it through.”

“And what about Hank?” a third voice broke in. “He’s dead because of this little brat. I say we save ourselves the trouble and kill him now!”

“And bring his family down on our heads? You wanna end up like Hank?”

“They’re already gonna come after us because we got the kid. We’re stuck between the crazy lady and the feral cult members.”

A softer voice protested. “C’mon, guys, he’s just a kid. You want that kinda blood on your hands? And if the crazy woman hurts him, that’s on us, too. Let’s just let him go and get out of here. His… family or whatever they are can worry about him, and the woman doesn’t even need to know. We’ll head south before she finds out. Let them all worry about each other.”

“I second that.”

“No way! We owe him some payback. I want him dead.”

Two for releasing him. Two for killing him. And two for taking him back to Cassandra. Varian slowly shifted his hands, tapping his claws and resting them against the rope bindings.

“Enough!” the boss yelled, his voice thundering around the tiny house. “We ain’t quittin’ now, you lily-livered cowards. Pack up and let’s move. And hurry, before they realize he’s gone.” He reached down, his hand stretching out toward Varian’s arm.

Varian lashed up, grabbing the arm and yanking the man downward. His claws raked against the Yellowjacket’s ugly mug, eliciting a guttural howl as blood gushed outward, splattering against Varian’s own face. He gasped but kept moving, shoving to his feet and bringing his knee up to collide with the man’s head. He dropped to the ground, out cold. Rushing the next thug, Varian drove his elbow into his solar plexus. Then he brought it back and up into his face. Diving across the room, he snatched up his bag from beside the door, yanking out two glass spheres and tossing them toward the closest two. With the shatter of glass, pink goo spread across the floor, sealing the bandits in place.

One of the remaining two rushed at him, and he ducked under the reaching arms, falling to one knee and sliding across the floor as he reached for the next weapon. As he overbalanced, he reached out one hand to catch himself before he fell. A shadow fell over him as the last thug took advantage of his misstep. A large hand grabbed his shoulder, shoving him to the ground as a knee landed on his back.

Snarling and hissing in a way that would make Riki and Kiki proud, Varian thrashed, raking his claws against any surface that came too close. The guards thugs in their hideous gold armor yellow coats clustered around him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the floor. Someone got their hands around his gloves, yanking them free. In turn, his teeth sank into that someone’s arm.

Despite his struggle, another thick rope wound its way around his wrists, pinning his hands behind his back. His ankles were bound in turn, as well. “You’ll pay for this!” he growled. “Let me go or I’ll claw your eyes out!”

“Shut him up,” one of the thugs ordered. “We gotta get out of here, now!”

The two he hadn’t hit, plus one who had come to, dragged him to his feet and forced a cloth between his teeth, tying it behind his head. He kicked at their kneecaps as they dragged him toward the door.

O‴O‴O‴

The raccoon led them to a dilapidated cabin near the base of a cliff. Muffled voices drifted over the breeze from inside. Hector lunged forward, but Quirin’s hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. “Just a moment,” he ordered, then gestured to Adira with a jerk of his head. Adira motioned to Riki and Kiki, who split up to circle the clearing, then she disappeared around the edge to scout. Once they were gone, Quirin planted himself firmly in front of Hector “We need to talk.”

“No, we need to go get my kid,” he hissed. “Move.”

“Stand down. Adira and I will handle this. We’re more than enough to handle whoever’s in there.”

“If you won’t move, I’ll move you.”

“You’re not thinking clearly. You’ll only be a liability to us. I can’t go into battle with you if I can’t trust where your mind is.”

“My mind is exactly where it needs to be!” Hector planted his hands against Quirin’s chest, over the leather armor he had taken to wearing since they’d left that nightmarish sunshine kingdom, and shoved. Quirin, in all his giant oafishness, didn’t budge. “My body, on the other hand, needs to be in that cabin.” Beside him, Ruddiger whined, curling away from the arguing men.

“Hector.” Quirin’s hands landed on his shoulders, fingers leaning into his pressure points to force his attention. As he spoke, his accent, hidden for years while he lived away from home, broke through thicker. Hector had clearly gotten to him. “Enough. Why can’t you just trust me and Adira to handle this?”

“Why can’t you trust me?” He shoved Qurin’s hands off. “Stop treating me like I’m unstable,” he seethed.

“I don’t think you’re unstable, Hector; I think you’re fighting a demon you’ve never had to fight before. And you’re so dead-set on fighting alone. The red rocks changed you. Something happened to you you won’t tell me about. The things you saw are still affecting you. What I saw is easier to reconcile because it never happened. All I have to do is look at Varian to know that. But you saw things you’ve lived. And now you’re acting from your fear instead of from what you know to be truth.”

“Easy for you to say! Do you have any idea what it feels like to be completely powerless? The Brotherhood’s ‘golden boy.’ Diplomat, strategist, warrior, and when you gave it all up, you still ended up with a life worth living. Mayor, farmer, husband, father. You’ve always had another angle. But take away my ability to fight, and I’m nothing. You don’t know what that feels like. You don’t know what it feels like to be useless!”

Quirin gave him a cold, empty stare. It was a far cry from the heated anger Hector had expected. “How can you believe that about me? That I don’t know what that feels like? I watched my son run into that snowstorm, and I couldn’t stop him. I woke up a year later to learn he’d been tortured by someone I failed to warn him about when I had the chance. Every scar that stains his skin, it’s a scar I couldn’t keep him from getting. So don’t you ever accuse me of not knowing what that feels like.” His gaze softened. “But I can rest in this knowledge; when I wasn’t able to help him, you were. He only spent six months in prison because you went to get him. You were there for him when I couldn’t be. That’s what family does. I know when I can’t help him, you and Adira will be there to pick up the slack for me. And when you can’t be there for him, I will be.”

“Then you understand my pain,” Hector pleaded in a softer voice. “Quir, if anything happens to him because I wasn’t watching, that’s on my head. You warned me about the danger he’d be in, and I said I could handle it. And now he’s alone in there with heaven knows what, because I wasn’t responsible. Because I failed him. So please, just… let me fix my mistake.”

Quirin sighed and bowed his head. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warned. 

Hector’s lips curled in a sneer. “I will never regret doing whatever it takes to protect him.”

Adira returned shortly thereafter, giving a curt nod. “We’re clear.” She picked up Ruddiger, stroking behind his ears and whispering something softly to him—probably about idiotic men who argued when they were supposed to be working. Setting him up on a tree branch, she gave a hushed directive for him to stay there until they came back for him. It was almost too easy to slip back into their old ways when Quirin, ever their strategist, took charge. As soon as he nodded, Hector shot across the clearing, kicking the door of the cabin so hard it flew off its hinges.

Three men remained inside, two glued to the floor and one pushing himself off the ground with the one arm that wasn’t in a splint. When their eyes fell upon the specter in the doorway, their faces blanched, and they pressed backward as best as they could between their injured and restrained limbs.

Hector dragged the tip of his blade across the dusty floor as he stalked closer. “Where is he?” he hissed, shoulders drawn up and head canted to the side. Quirin may share his pain, but he could never touch Hector’s rage. And right now, his rage was boiling past his control, so unlike the carefully-controlled anger he used so often to drive his actions.

They shook their heads and lowered their gazes to the floor. With a low growl, he targeted the nearest one trapped and asked again, “Where is he?”

“W-Where’s who?” the thug stammered out, bringing up one hand to hide his face.

Hector closed the distance between them in a single stride, his fingers wrapping around the man’s throat. “Varian. Short kid, hair stripe, paint on his face. Sound familiar?”

Wising up, the man nodded as best he could with Hector’s hand around his neck. “Oh, that kid.”

“Yeah, that kid.” Hector leaned closer until their faces were inches apart. “Now I won’t ask again. I’ll just put you out of my misery.”

“I don’t know!” he yelled— or rasped. “Honest, I don’t know!”

“Well then, I have no use for you.” He lifted his sword. The other two thugs cried out in shock but fell silent as his gaze slid to them.

Quirin’s hand closed around his wrist. “Stop, brother. That’s enough. You won’t get anything out of a dead man.”

“I got two others to choose from. One of them will talk.”

“Think this through—”

“I am thinking!” He dropped the man and whirled on Quirin. “These good-for-nothing scumbags took our boy. They’ve got my sword-son somewhere, and I want him back now!”

“And we’ll get him back. But you need to stay calm.”

Hector gave a feral laugh, head leaned back. His fists shook with the exertion of not planting them through someone’s face— either Quirin’s or the Yellowjacket’s, it didn’t matter. “You stay calm, then. I’ll get results.”

Quirin’s grip tightened. “Control yourself. Edmund always warned you—”

“Edmund’s not here, so get out of my way!”

His head snapped back so fast his neck cracked. Their eyes met in a silently cold challenge. Quirin slowly nodded and let go of his wrist.

Hector rolled his head around, his braids draping across one eye as he centered in on his target again. The man inched backward as far as the pink goo would allow. Setting his jaw, he gritted out in one last show of painted bravery, “You gonna kill me like you killed Hank?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t have time to scream before Hector’s sword slit his throat.

The other two screamed, though.

The second one cursed, shouting words Quirin would whip Hector for saying. “You killed him! You sick freak!”

He grinned, lifting his blade to study the glistening blood that now dripped from its shining surface. “Yeah. I did. Did your predecessors ever tell you about the time they took me hostage? I don’t suppose so; it was the day of their greatest defeat. Twenty-seven of your guys died. Thirteen were arrested. And five made it out alive to pass those fashion sins you call coats on to you.” He swung his sword through the air, the sharp whistling a haunting melody in his ears. “Twenty-seven people died because someone got between my sword-mother and me. So what do you think I’m gonna do to the three of you?” He sneered. “Well, two of you, now.”

“We don’t know where he is! We’re telling the truth! The others left and took him! I don’t know where!”

“Then you’re useless, too.” He plunged his blade into the thug’s stomach, ripping it out carelessly. Blood splattered across his arm, across the floor, across the closest wall. The man hit the floor with a thud, weak gasps rattling from his throat as he choked.

The one with the broken arm, now pressed tightly against the wall and eyeing the nearest window— as if he would make half the distance before Hector’s sword made a home in his back— shuddered and spat out, “Thought you knights were supposed to be honorable and all.”

Behind him, Adira scoffed, tossing her braid over her shoulder. “You don’t deserve our honorable side.”

Hector laughed, stepping over the corpse and leaning closer to the thug, whom he now recognized as their leader. “This ain’t some children’s storybook. I’ve killed more men than I could count.”

He pressed further into the wall, leaning away from Hector as best he could. “I don’t know where they’re at,” he confessed, “but I know where we were planning on going. Up northwest, toward the mountains. The lady with the rocks, she hired us to get the kid! Said she needed him. You go that way, you’ll find him! Please, let me go, let me live!” He wrapped his good arm around his head.

Hector scoffed. “No.”

This time, when he stepped away from the body, he was stained red from his face to his wrist, the warm liquid seeping in between his scowling lips and stinging his tongue. He brushed his clean hand across his face to get it away from his eye. He half-turned to Quirin and Adira, a cold smile twisting his lips as he pulled out a rag and began cleaning his blade. “So, northwest, then?”

O‴O‴O‴

Gasping for breath, Varian ran, shoving branches out of his path and yanking his cloak free of the thornbushes that snagged in the fabric. Clutching his bag close to his chest, he blinked rapidly to clear his misted vision. The raw skin on his wrists stung where he’d pulled them free of the rope. Still, though, his fingers didn’t loosen their grip on the leather strap. The bag weighted significantly less than it had a few moments ago, its contents now strewn across the forest floor— and his kidnappers.

Their yells still echoed in his ears; and while he wanted to pretend they had been exclamations of surprise, caused by harmless traps, he knew too well what cries of pain sounded like.

He had used alchemy. To hurt them.

Because he got careless again. Reached into his bag without looking. He’d been so caught up in the euphoria of being able to slip free and grab his supplies without being noticed that he hadn’t even looked to see what he was reaching for.

Would he ever learn? Would his alchemy ever be used for something that didn’t cause pain?

With a muffled gasp, he fell against a tree, slumping until he sat on the ground. He curled up, bringing his knees to his chest as he scrubbed his wrist across his eyes. Not a sound of pursuit followed him. Only then did the aching in his head make itself known, doubling him over in pain as he dragged his hands through his hair. His vision blurred. Where was Hector? Ruddiger? For that matter, where was he? How far had they ridden before he’d managed to spook their horses?

Overhead, the moon was little more than a sliver, ready to disappear fully on the following night. Stars glimmered in the inky blackness. He tilted his head back, searching for any guiding constellation, but they, too, blurred in his sight until he groaned and let his head fall forward again.

A soft chittering near his feet drew his attention. Ruddiger sat beside him, head tilted and fuzzy brows furrowed. He pressed into Varian’s side, purring. Varian lowered a hand to scratch him behind the ears. “Hey, bud,” he forced out through gritted teeth. Then he winced and hissed, lowering his head again.

Ruddiger hopped up, digging into Varian’s bag. He yelped and tried to pull the raccoon away, but Ruddiger swatted at his hands and kept digging. He emerged with a small vial and held it out. Varian slid backward, pressing himself against the tree harder and drawing his arms up to his chest. Nonplussed, Ruddiger climbed onto his knees and held out the vial again. From here, Varian could read the small-print labeling. It was a headache remedy.

He almost laughed aloud. Of the remedies he’d had left over after his repeated interrogations in Old Corona, not one of them had been touched by his captors. Why would they be? So he’d had at least a few helpful things left over.

“Thanks, Ruddiger, but no.” He shook his head and immediately regretted it. “I’m not— I’m fine.”

Ruddiger propped a paw on his hip and raised an eyebrow.

Varian scoffed and picked him up, setting him on the ground. “I’m fine. See?” He shoved himself to his feet—and fell against the tree again, clinging to it with chilled fingers.

Ruddiger still didn’t seem convinced, still holding out the medicine. Varian sighed and leaned against the trunk, arms wrapped around himself. It was just medicine. That was all. Not a truth serum, not a hallucinogenic, nothing dangerous. It didn’t even have severe side effects. But still, the thought of bringing the small bottle to his lips set him shivering. Why? Hector had given him remedies for his fever before, and while he’d initially been skeptical, needing to trust that if Hector had wanted to hurt him then he simply would have done it, he had taken them with only slight hesitation.

But this was alchemy.

Harmless alchemy, sure, if there were any such thing. And Ruddiger wouldn’t give him anything to hurt him— unless he was still upset about the mutation, which he had every right to be. But he’d never hurt Varian in the past; even his decision to turn against him during the fight was out of love, knowing what he was becoming wasn’t truly him. And then he’d stayed with him in prison until the guards had forcibly torn them apart.

With a groan, he sank back to the ground and took the vial. I did this. I made this. It’s just medicine. It’s mine. Bringing it to his mouth with a shaking hand, he closed his eyes and let the glass touch his lips. Ruddiger leaned into his side again, purring loudly until Varian tilted his head back and let the medicine hit his throat. His mouth flooded with the sweet tang of apples— from Dad’s orchard, so long ago, their taste carefully preserved in the compound to make the medicine more palatable for children. The irony brought a bitter laugh to his chest.

Swallowing the compound, he put the vial back in his bag and stood again. “Thanks, buddy.” He looked around at the unfamiliar forest. He hadn’t seen most of the trip out here, and he’d run without considering where he was going. “Um… I don’t— do you— can you get us out of here?”

Ruddiger nodded, turning and starting off into the woods. He glanced back every few seconds to make sure Varian was following. On unsteady legs, Varian stumbled after him, bracing his hands against the trees as they passed.

By the time they made it back to the cabin, his headache had started to ease some. It spiked again as something sharp and acrid drifted over the breeze. He tilted his head, looking around the clearing. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary; torchlight danced from the windows, and smoke still drifted from the ashes of the fire pit. From inside, voices echoed, familiar and comforting.

He started forward, but a large dark shape barreled out of the darkness to plant itself in front of him. He sighed and put a hand on Kiki’s head, trying to push him out of the way. “C’mon, what’s wrong? Where’s Uncle Hector?”

Kiki shook his head and shoved Varian back.

A sharp scream pierced the air. Ruddiger jumped, and Varian flinched. Kiki gave a low whine and pushed at him again, nudging him back toward the treeline. With a shake of his head, Varian darted around Kiki, his cloak fluttering just out of reach of the bearcat’s snapping teeth. Kiki raced after him, sliding to a stop before him so Varian ran into his side. Growling, Kiki headbutted him in the stomach.

“Move,” Varian ordered. “Kiki, I need to see him! Please!”

Ruddiger sprang past Varian, launching himself up and onto Kiki’s head. He covered the bearcat’s eyes with his paws, screeching as Kiki tried to shake him off. With his attention diverted, Varian ran past him again, his attention centered on the cabin and the achingly familiar tang of blood that called to him like an old friend.

He shoved the door open, freezing on the threshold.

The stench slammed into him like a wave, stealing his breath. He stumbled and gripped the edge of the frame to keep himself standing. In the burning torchlight, the blood shone like liquid rubies, decorating the dirty floor in a myriad of jewels. Three people— three bodies— lay amidst the brutal treasure, their skin ashen and drawn where it wasn’t stained.

Quirin and Adira stood just within the cabin, their backs to him.

And Hector stood over the bodies, running a cloth over his steel blade to remove the last traces of red.

Three heads whipped his direction, three sets of eyes locking onto his.

He couldn’t breathe.

Quirin gave a short gasp, half-turning toward him. Adira’s cold expression shattered, a haunting weight crossing her face before she slipped into a practiced neutrality.

And Hector…

If that was still who stood before him.

Hector’s eyes, narrowed and shining with something almost peaceful, met his. For a breath that stretched to an eternity, the stranger didn’t move, his shoulders drawn tight and spine curved like a hunting cat.

Then that eternity shattered like glass, a ragged inhale breaking through the tension like a frayed cord. Hector’s eyes widened as if he were only now noticing who stood in the threshold. He flicked his wrist, drawing his sword back to its place, and snapped back to a straighter posture.

Then he reached out a blood-stained hand toward Varian.

O‴O‴O‴

He was here.

Varian was here.

The burning fire in Hector’s chest settled, retreating back into its place until he had need of it again. His kid was here. He was safe. Blood streaked across his face from no visible source, his gloves and swords were missing, but he was here and safe and alive. Nothing else mattered at the moment.

The sharp tang of blood filtered into his senses. He dragged a sharp breath in, eyes widening. The blood. Varian was hemophobic. He was hemophobic and there was so much blood in the room and on the floor and on Varian’s face. They stood amidst a mess of mangled bodies not even cold yet, bodies slain by Hector’s own hand.

Varian stared, mouth parted in a silent cry, stiff and tense in the doorway as if he’d flee at the slightest provocation. His eyes—one blue, one a clouded gray—searched Hector’s for… something, a dawning horror on his face as whatever he was looking for came up short.

Hector straightened, sheathing his now-clean blade. Taking a half-step forward, he reached out his hand—to comfort? Who? Varian or him? Who needed more reassurance in this moment: the terrified warrior, so afraid of loss, or the wounded child who had just had his life shattered before his eyes? Who needed the comforting assurance of contact more?

His gaze flickered down to his hand. His left hand.

Still covered in blood.

Varian flinched.

Jerking back, he brought his hand to his chest as if he’d been burned. He gasped for breath, the room closing in around him. Echoes of warnings rang through his mind, twenty years’ worth of teaching he’d recklessly shoved aside. Head darting side to side, he stumbled backward, the viscous liquid sucking at his boots with each step.

Spinning on his heel, he tore away from Varian’s gaze and made for the window, throwing himself out into the night without a glance back.

Chapter Text

Varian took a stumbling step forward, his foot sliding in the thick blood don’t look pretend it’s not there pretend it’s not that. Footprints trailed along to the edge of the window, the viscous liquid slowly seeping back onto itself and blurring their outlines.

“Don’t.” A large hand settled on his shoulder. Quirin shook his head. “Give him time.”

Adira rested her hand on her sword hilt. “The other three…”

He clamped a hand over his mouth and shook his head. Gesturing vaguely back the way he’d come, he forced out, “They— I don’t know, I didn’t see—I had to—” Tears pricked at his eyes, drowning out the hazy red of the room. “I didn’t mean to!”

Her eyes strayed down toward his bag. “I see.” Lifting a hand, she let her knuckles barely ghost over his cheek, a gesture of unusual softness from the brash warrior. “Stay with Quirin. Rest. I’ll handle it.” She brushed past him and left the cabin.

“Come, son.” Quirin gently turned him, nudging him toward the door. “Let’s go. We don’t need to be here right now.” As they left, he looked back over his shoulder and murmured something in the Old Tongue— some sort of curse or rite. Then, blocking Varian’s view back with his own body, he steered him away from the cabin. Varian let him guide him, closing his eyes and his heart until the building and its final occupants fell behind them.

The trip back to the campsite passed in a haze, and when Varian came to himself, he was wrapped in a thick winter cloak beside the fire. Quirin held a wet cloth, carefully dabbing at the blood still crusted on Varian’s face. He hummed as he worked, nothing in his expression to indicate any horror or grief at what had transpired. When he was satisfied, turning Varian’s head one way and the other with firm fingers, he nodded and set the cloth aside. Then he retrieved a pear from their supplies and a clean knife, setting to work peeling and slicing the fruit. Once that was finished, he passed the slices into Varian’s now-clean hands.

“Eat,” he ordered. “Then rest.”

His throat felt scratchy, as if he’d swallowed salt water. He lifted one of the pieces, choking down a small bite. “H-Hector?” he asked.

Quirin’s brows furrowed in the way he’d come to associate with… not quite disappointment, but almost. Yet another trait he and Hector alike managed to pull out of Quirin. “He needs some time to himself. Hector is… burdened right now. He has much to consider.”

“He needs help.” Varian grabbed Quirin’s wrist tightly. “He needs— he needs us.”

“I know. I’ll go to him.” Quirin stared out at the forest, not meeting Varian’s eyes. “Once Adira comes back, I’ll go find him. He won’t go far.”

Varian didn’t argue when Quirin urged him to finish eating the fruit, though it tasted like ash against his tongue. Nor did he argue when his father nudged him down onto his sleeping mat, resting his large hand atop Varian’s head for a moment before turning back to tend to the fire. Ruddiger curled up beside him, facing outward to keep an eye on the clearing. His fuzzy little body remained tense and coiled, not in agitation but ready to move at a moment’s notice if anything should disturb the relative peace of the clearing. Varian closed his eyes, exhaustion weighing down on him like chains. He let his eyes fall closed—

And snapped them back open again, visions of red painting the insides of his eyelids and searing through to his brain. Red, everywhere, sickly sweet and clinging to every surface, painting wood and stone and iron bars alike. His teeth clamped down on his lip, and he curled up tighter, shuffling carefully so Ruddiger wouldn’t suspect his turmoil. How was he supposed to sleep now? How did Quirin expect that of him, after what he’d seen? Even if the blood weren’t his, his stomach revolted at the thought. Why hadn’t he listened to Kiki? Kiki knew more about Hector than Varian did, their years of fighting together giving them an innate connection. Kiki knew about facets of Hector that Varian didn’t— about facets of him that Varian wasn’t supposed to see. He had tried to warn him, tried to steer him away.

Were he and Riki with Hector now? Were they there to help him, to fight beside him?

He had looked so at home, so calm, surrounded by so much bloodshed, by the bodies of three men he’d killed as if their lives meant nothing to him. And Kiki had known what Hector was about to do.

Quirin and Adira had known, too.

Everyone had known this would happen. Except for Varian.

How could he have been so stupid? Hector had warned him before that there were dark parts of his past he didn’t talk about. Things he’d done that he couldn’t repeat. Lives he’d taken. He’d told Varian about their time as knights, even though he never went into detail. He’d always stopped just short of explaining the things he’d used to do, leaving Varian to interpret his silence. So yes, realistically, Varian had known Hector could kill and had done so before. And yet the Hector who had bandaged his wounds, who had given him medicine and allowed him to take his recovery at his own pace and never forced him to do anything… the Hector who sang obnoxiously loud and made bread out of questionable vegetables and left little wooden carvings laying everywhere… the Hector who taught him about knighthood, taught him to fight, taught him how to defend himself and defend others…

The Hector that had stood silently in that cabin, cleaning his sword while his face still dripped with blood, completely at peace, was a stranger to him.

That Hector had been carefully hidden away, masked behind the side of himself that he chose to show. For the entire time they had known each other— less than a year, had it really been such a short time?— he had kept that part of himself locked away. Away from Varian.

Stars and moon, he felt so foolish. Foolish for assuming that the warrior who had fought four Coronan guards days after they’d met was the version of himself that ran the deepest. Foolish for not seeing the sheer restraint that Hector had been demonstrating for Varian’s sake, so he wouldn’t see him kill the men that he so desperately wanted to. Foolish for believing that the first thug that Hector had killed in front of him had been only out of necessity to protect Varian. Foolish for taking things at face value, for taking for granted how much he really knew about Hector.

Wasn’t that the same mistake he’d made before, when he’d been so eager to accept the hand of friendship offered to him that he didn’t look past the idealized front and had simply accepted what he had been told?

No, but that wasn’t fair! Hector had proven himself to Varian, fiercely defending and supporting him, allowing him the space he needed to heal. What right did he have to question him after everything he’d done? Why did this sudden revelation change anything about what they’d been through together? Hector was allowed to have things he didn’t talk about.

So then why did that bloodstained face with its peaceful smile flicker behind his eyelids every time he tried to blink? Why did that hand reaching out toward him, dripping with red, feel so threatening?

He was no closer to an answer by the time Adira returned. At Quirin’s soft grunt, she shook her head softly. Quirin nodded in return. Varian blinked languidly, not following the silent conversation.

Adira knelt next to Varian, placing his swords down beside him. She set his gloves atop those. “I found these. Thought you might want them back, huh?”

“Thanks,” he whispered. “Um, the… the guys—”

“Don’t worry, malysh. I took care of it.”

“D-Did I—” His voice cracked, and he looked down, unable to see the condemnation he was sure must be in her eyes.

“Shh.” Her shadow fell over him as she shifted. “No. I did. But you, little warrior, you defended yourself. I’m proud of you. Those men got exactly what they deserved, and don’t you ever feel one ounce of guilt for it. Our family looks out for each other. Always.”

Don’t feel guilt? When six— seven— people were dead because of him?

“Sleep now, moye solntse.” She stood. “Things will be clearer in the morning.”

Varian tried to close his eyes again as she moved closer to the fire, but the images remained, that haunting smile seared into his mind. Giving up on sleep, he lay silently, his fingers clutching his blanket as if the thick fabric could keep out the demons that prowled the night. A terse silence blanketed the camp. From the treeline, Aurora and Kubwa watched the humans, their dark eyes glittering in the low light. Adira settled beside Quirin, her back to the fire. She leaned over, briefly resting her head against his shoulder before straightening again. Quirin didn’t reciprocate the gesture, but he did shuffle closer to her, offering her the comfort of his presence without touching her.

Adira spoke first. “Quir…”

“I know,” he answered. “I’ll deal with it.”

“I can’t reach him here. I know what it feels like to be constrained. To be forced to be silent and controlled. But I can’t connect with him here. Edmund taught him the way he did because Hector was half-feral and unsafe. I was taught the way I was because no one thought I could be a knight. We’ve never found common ground in that.”

“I remember.” He gave a half-laugh. “I thought for certain they’d kick him from the ranks when he dislocated your shoulder during that one fight.”

“And then he bit me!”

“And then he bit you.” Quirin shook his head sadly, looking up at the sky. The dim starlight blanched his weathered features. “As much as I hate to admit it, at the time, I wanted them to. I wanted him gone.”

“So did I,” she admitted. “But now? Quirin, I can’t imagine not having him in my life. Those twenty-five years without you two? They were agony. I feel like I can breathe again now. I don’t know if he can ever forgive me, but I want him around.”

Varian held his breath. Had it really been as bad as that? Hector had said they didn’t get along, but to have that much antagonism toward one another?

 “Fix this,” Adira pleaded, turning toward him. “Or we’ll lose him. And it won’t just be us. Varian will lose him too, and he can’t afford that. I can’t—” She hung her head. “I can’t fix this.”

Quirin stood. “I’ll talk to him. And Adira… you know he’ll forgive you.”

She shook her head slowly. “Not this time.”

“He’ll see you meant well—”

Throwing her head back, she laughed bitterly. “I always mean well. Look how well that ends up. I meant well when I took the Sundrop to the Dark Kingdom. I meant well when I put my own desires of knighthood above my duty to my kingdom. Intentions mean nothing when the things I’m doing hurt the people I care about.”

Quirin didn’t answer. He started to walk away, then stopped, half-turned back like he wanted to speak but couldn’t make the words come out of his mouth.

“I’ll stay with Varian.” Adira didn’t look at him as she spoke.

Shoulders relaxing, Quirin disappeared into the night.

The silence sat over the clearing like something sacred, something too valuable to touch. With only the waning moon and the stars as witness to Varian’s intrusion on their conversation, he didn’t dare speak up and offer comfort. Adira’s pain wasn’t his to heal. There was no chemical solution that could mend this rift, no feat of engineering that would create the forgiveness she sought.

He could only hope Hector would give it freely.

If he came back.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector fell to his knees beside the lake, plunging his bare hands into the still water. Grabbing handfuls of sand, he scrubbed at his skin, working at the dried blood that had seeped underneath his gloves. A low, keening howl rose in his throat as his vision began to blur. Wincing as the grit stung his skin, he rubbed harder, targeting any lingering traces of red. But the harder he dug into his skin, the more the red seemed to stick, to cling to his tainted fingers and palms. Snarling, he slammed his fists into the ground beside him, panting for breath and staring down at the water as it grew still again. His reflection was distorted in the surface, broken and shadowed. Even the moon has forbidden me her light.

He nearly laughed at the thought. Varian would have explained that his stained soul had nothing to do with it, that it was just something something science, that the moon waxed and waned consistently. Hector knew all that. The Dark Kingdom measured the passing of time by the moon. So no, the moon hadn’t forsaken him. But here in the darkness, separated from his family by his own choice, it felt as if the last thread holding him to his past had well and truly snapped, cut with his own blade.

A body pressed into his side. He leaned into Riki, letting the thick fur muffle his groans. A shuffling noise on the sand alerted him to Kiki’s presence behind him.

The thin shard of moonlight continued its steady march across the sky, impassive and uncaring of what lay below. Hector didn’t move, leaning into his friends, his friends who had seen him at his lowest and followed him over and over again. Come to think if it, Kubwa had probably been distressed when he didn’t return to camp.

He didn’t bother to look up and track the moon’s progression, but the feel of its pull in his bones told him that some hours had passed. Still he knelt, clothes growing stiff from where he’d stained them—that would be a pain to clean out later. His face was stiff, too; he’d forgotten to try to get that off.

Heavy footsteps crunched against the loamy soil. The bearcats gave soft warning growls, hemming him in on either side. Hector didn’t turn to look, but neither did he protest when Quirin knelt on his left, gently nudging Riki aside. Riki yielded but stayed close behind them.

They sat in silence, staring out over the lake.

Hector broke it first. “Are you here to kill me?”

“No.”

“Then leave.”

“No.”

He stared down at his reflection again. This close to the water, small waved lapped up around his kneecaps. The image blurred, fragmenting and mending and fragmenting again in the tiny ripples. “Edmund was right about me.”

“Yes, he was.” Hector winced, but Quirin wasn’t done. “But not when he said you were dangerous. He was right when he said you deserved the same chance we all got.”

“And look what I did with that chance. I became a monster.”

“You’re not a monster,” Quirin insisted. “They threatened Varian. I would have done the same—”

“Yeah, but you didn’t.” Hector whirled on him. “I did. I killed those men, not you. You could have fought for him! Why weren’t you as furious as I was? How can you stay so stormin’ calm when that was your kid they took?!”

Quirin’s dark eyes narrowed in warning. “You needed me, too. Not just him. It would have done no good for both of us to lose— for both of us to act aggressively. We have always covered each other. Sword and shield. All three of us have our strengths and weaknesses. The Brotherhood requires balance.”

He gave a hysteric laugh. “A weakness? Act aggressively? Say it. I lost control. You warned me, Edmund spent years warning me, and I still lost control. I wanted to kill those men, and I enjoyed it. So you can tell me I’m not a monster, but I know what you really think of me. Don’t think I didn’t listen to Adira when she called me… how did she phrase it? ‘Dangerous and sadistic’?”

“Hector.” Quirin’s hand landed on his shoulder, pressing firmly but not painfully. “Calmaté. Escúchame.”

Hector almost leaned into the touch, catching himself just in time. Growling, he tried to shove the hand off, but Quirin didn’t falter. Reaching into his pocket, Quirin pulled out a strip of cloth, dipping it into the water before bringing it up to Hector’s face.

“Don’t need your help,” he rebuffed.

“I know. Escúchame.”

He sighed and relented, letting Quirin deal with the blood while he formulated his words. Once he was satisfied, Quirin nodded.

“Dangerous, yes. Sadistic, no. I wanted them dead, too. We showed them mercy one time, and they abused that mercy. I don’t blame you for what happened. Have you ever enjoyed taking a life before?”

Shaking his head, he whispered, “Never.”

“Exactly. It was personal this time. It may not have been right to revel in it, but I understand. When you were taken hostage all those years ago, do you think Talya was impartial about taking their lives? You were hers. Hers to protect. Those beasts nearly killed you. I listened to your bones cracking as she breathed for you. I don’t blame her for wanting to kill every last one of the scumbags.” He leaned back, letting go of Hector’s shoulder. Hector shivered at the loss of contact, but just as quickly, the hand found his neck, thumb running along the base of his skull. “So no, you aren’t sadistic. If you’d had a normal childhood, it you’d had parents and a home and you’d entered the ranks when the time was right, perhaps you’d fight differently. Perhaps you’d exhibit more restraint. But Edmund found you on the streets when you were barely six, he took you in and told you you’d be a knight, he started your training early and gave you an education for nobility. You never had a chance to be normal, to be a child. Then you were isolated for years after we fell apart. You’re doing what you can with the bad hand you were dealt. You love so strongly that it hurts you. You hate injustice. You protect others with every breath in your body. You give of yourself over and over again without ever expecting anything in return. You’re a father and a mentor. You aren’t wild. You aren’t an animal. And you certainly don’t enjoy causing pain. You are wholly, painfully, and moon-blessedly human. And you are my brother. I love you. That is what I think of you.”

Hector broke.

Sobs racked his frame as he doubled over, arms wrapped around his torso. Quirin’s hand slid down to his back, rubbing small circles. In the privacy of the darkness, with only the company of his brother and his ever-watchful guardians, he reached into the tangled core of his heart, ripping away at the words he’d locked there long ago. Feral. Dog. Sadistic. Useless. Monster. Cruel. Cursed. Tearing them free, he clung desperately to the words Quirin had given him, instead. Loved. Human. Protector. Father. Brother.

They would come back, he knew. They were too ingrained in him, too long-suffered. One night wasn’t enough to rid himself of almost fifty years of their influence. But for tonight, he didn’t need them.

When he had no tears left to give, he leaned back, turning his face skyward. “Varian?” he asked, voice cracking.

“He’s fine. A little bruised. Mostly shaken.”

Hector bit back a self-deprecating laugh. No kidding Varian was shaken. He’d just witnessed something he didn’t need to see at the hand of the person he should be able to trust more than anyone.

“You trained him well,” Quirin continued. “He defended himself and escaped without help. You taught him that. You turned my— our boy into a knight.”

“I guess I owe Adira an apology, then.”

“You do. But right now, she just wants to know you’re okay. She loves you. She’s just not great at showing it. None of us are.”

“Ain’t that the truth. They must have forgot to teach us that in stabby school.”

Quirin laughed. “Must have.”

“For the record…. You did okay, just now.” His eyebrow raised sharply. “That was probably hard for you. Paying compliments and all.”

“Watch it. I can still knock you out cold if you act up.”

“Ever the showoff. Never could beat me at the Crucible, though.” He exhaled, watching his breath fog in the cold night air. “Stars and moon… how can I face him after this?”

Quirin shrugged. “Well, I’d recommend changing clothes first. He’ll probably be asleep by the time we go back, so you’ll have time to rest and think about what you want to say.”

“Quir, he’s terrified! Of me! I did that. And then I couldn’t even look him in the eye. I ran. I ran from him instead of facing what I did. This can’t be fixed with some sappy words and a promise to do better. Varian trusted me, trusted the person I led him to believe I was, and I betrayed that trust! I’m not the man he thinks I am. He deserves so much more than my stained hands. Do you think he’ll let me bandage his injuries or spar with him? How’s he supposed to sleep if I’m the one on watch?” He dropped his head into his hands, running his fingers through his braids. “I messed up too bad this time. I can’t fix this.”

“Oh, so you’re just giving up then. Okay. I guess Adira can just pick up his education, then. She did always want a successor.”

His head snapped back up. “Like blazes she will! I ain’t letting her corrupt my student. Her fighting style is all wrong for his body type. And she seasons all her food with garlic! And have you seen her do her katas? Seriously, who starts with shadow form before fortress form?”

Quirin smirked. “So you’ll be coming back and working things out with Varian?”

“Ain’t got a choice, do I?” He stood. “Curse you and your— your stupid logic. I’ll work it out.”

“Good.” Quirin stood as well, groaning as his back popped. “We’ve got a few hours before dawn. Let’s get some rest. Are you coming back now or do you want to wait a bit?”

“I’ll— you’re sure he’s asleep?”

Quirin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course.”

O‴O‴O‴

Arianna jolted awake with a gasp, her fluttering heartbeat erratic against her palm as she rested her hand across her chest. Standing quickly and throwing a robe around her nightgown, she moved to the balcony, breathing deeply in the cool air. Resting against the doorframe, she waited for her pulse to steady before opening her eyes and looking up at the dark sky.

Behind her, Rapunzel stirred, rolling over with a soft groan. “Mom?” she muttered.

Arianna returned to the bedroom, sitting by Rapunzel’s side and stroking a thumb across her cheek. “I’m here, honey.”

“Are you okay?” Big green eyes blinked up at her, unfocused.

She’d missed these moments. Eighteen years, she’d missed being beside her daughter when she woke up, missed combing through her tangled hair— Rapunzel couldn’t stand for it to be touched now, and Arianna wouldn’t dream of causing her pain— missed holding her after nightmares and teaching her how to ride a horse and how to walk in heels. She’d missed singing lullabies and mother-daughter shopping trips. She’s missed temper tantrums and illnesses and grades, good and bad.

Sometimes, in her moments alone without anyone to question her thoughts, she wondered how much of her daughter had come back to her. How much of Rapunzel was the same as who she would have been had she been allowed to live the life she deserved? How much of her had been carved away by that witch who wanted a perfect, silent, compliant flower?

Rapunzel felt the loss too; she’d broken, exactly once, collapsing to her knees and screaming— at the world, at the unfairness, at at the ghost of her abuser. She’d sobbed on the floor, hands digging into her hair while Arianna could only watch helplessly. For all the trauma she’d endured, she expressed herself through so many ways: through her art, her journal, through speaking with a psychologist. It showed itself in furtive glances, in food hidden in her room, in letting go from a hug far quicker than she clearly wanted to. But for the loss of her identity, she’d screamed.

“How do you know I’m still your daughter?” she had mourned.

Arianna’s heart, already shattered, couldn’t hurt any more in that moment. Instead, she had waited until Rapunzel was able to accept her touch, wrapped her up in a hug, and poured all the love she could into her words. “That monster could never make you any less my daughter. She can’t take that from you.”

Arianna settled herself back onto the bed, leaning back against the headrest and wrapping an arm around Rapunzel’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

Rapunzel leaned her head against her shoulder. “Can’t sleep?”

“Just bad dreams. They’ll pass.”

Her brows furrowed. “About… him?”

Arianna’s breath caught. She exhaled slowly as she nodded. “Yes.”

Rapunzel curled up closer to her. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice no more than a whisper. “I really don’t know. If we win… If I take the throne, secure it for you, the Brotherhood will have to help us remove him. I can’t do that alone, and he has too many supporters here who would prevent him from facing justice.”

“He doesn’t get a second chance, does he?” Her once-bright eyes stared down at the fabric of her blanket as her fingers worried at the fringes.

Arianna drew her closer. “I’d like to give him another chance, I really would. But he’s had twenty years to change. If giving him a second chance means that more people could get hurt, I can’t allow that.”

“I know. I’m just…” She squeezed her eyes shut, her fingernails now digging into her palms. “I feel so stupid. How do I keep falling for this? I know he’s done so many horrible things. But I still want to believe I’m wrong. I still keep thinking it’s a mistake somehow, and he didn’t actually hurt all those people. That he didn’t hurt Varian,” she continued more quietly. “But I know it’s not. So why do I still want to think he’s not like that?”

Arianna took Rapunzel’s hands in her own. “Darling, you’re not stupid for wanting to think the best of the people you love. I was blind to his actions for twenty years. We’ve both had to see the truth the hard way.” She took a shuddering breath. “I wish this hadn’t happened. I’d like to pretend he’s the same man I always thought he was. I love him. He’s my husband. But he let his feelings and fears come before doing what was right, and that’s not a mistake I can afford to make.”

She nodded, tears clouding her eyes. “Why does this keep happening? First with her. And now my own dad. And I know it’s not the same, but I lost Cassandra, too. And it all started because of me. Because of this stupid power!” She pulled her hands free and dug her fingers into her hair.

“No.” Arianna pulled her hands free. “This isn’t your fault. You’re human, darling, and you’ll make mistakes, but that wasn’t one of them. That woman was a greedy old witch, and Fred made his own mistakes and tried to cover them up rather than fixing them. Cassandra’s acting in response to Fred’s abuse of power. You had no say in any of that.”

Rapunzel nodded, and they fell silent. Arianna stared out at the balcony again. Far below, her people slept peacefully, unaware of the political turmoil that was brewing within the walls they looked to daily— or the turmoil within their leaders.

She’d almost suspected Rapunzel had fallen asleep when her daughter spoke again. “Is it bad that I still miss her sometimes?”

She didn’t have to ask who.

“I know she wasn’t… I know I was wrong. She wasn’t my mother, she didn’t love me, and all she wanted me for was my power. She kidnapped me and lied to me my whole life. So… why do I still miss her some days?”

“Because to you, it was all real.” Now Arianna was having trouble seeing through her own tears. “To you, she was the only mother you knew. You loved her. You didn’t know she lied. All those memories, all those years, it was real to you. Even though you know now, eighteen years don’t go away in two. You miss who you thought she was. And it’s okay. It’s okay to grieve for that loss. And it’s okay to grieve for this one, too.  I’m going to. Once it’s over.” She traced her thumb over the back of Rapunzel’s hand. “He does love you. He loves us. Don’t doubt that. But he forsook his responsibility as the king and allowed his people to suffer for things that were his fault. He wasn’t wrong to try to save my life and yours with the Sundrop, but he covered up what he did rather than try to stop the damage. He loves us so deeply, but his love comes at the cost of the citizens we’re sworn to protect.”

Citizens like Varian. Abused and brutalized for the crime of daring to lay a hand on the queen. Pushed to the brink of his sanity, lashing out in childish desperation, gaining an advantage by taking the queen off the chessboard. A crime that could have been punished with far less vitriol and far more empathy. Every scar that tarnished his once-unstained skin had been given to him in her name, as she’d told Frederic.

“Will you trust me to do this?” Arianna whispered. “Can you let me do this, for you and for our people?”

“We have to,” Rapunzel acknowledged. “It’s… a possessive love, isn’t it? He loves us, but it’s possessive. He locked me up. He knew what she did to me, and he still locked me up. He read my diary because he wanted to ‘protect’ me.”

Heat flared in Arianna’s chest. He’d done what?

“I think I’m ready to do this,” Rapunzel continued. “It’s not about my feelings. I wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening, but I can’t. And I deserve better, too. So do you. We all do.” She looked up at Arianna. “Are you okay? With doing this?”

She smiled sadly. Even when faced with the loss of yet another parent, Rapunzel still found it in her heart to worry about others. “I will be. You’ve got such a big heart. Don’t ever lose that. When you’re queen, you’ll have to learn to compartmentalize. You’ll have to learn to close your heart, because it can lead you astray. But don’t ever let go of that kindness and love and that care for others.” She looked away from Rapunzel, not able to meet her eyes as she continued, “I’m able to put my feelings aside for now. Frederic let his love— or what he thought was love— become more important than doing what was right. That’s not a mistake I can afford to make. When this is over, I’ll let myself feel it.”

“Being queen is a whole lot harder than I thought it would be.” Rapunzel wrapped her arms around herself. Arianna pulled the blanked up further around both of them. “I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how I’ll do it.”

“Darling, I hope and pray you never have to do anything like this.” An image, a perfect portrait, danced its way into her recollection; two strangers, standing together by a marble railing, a girl with short brown hair and a tattered purple dress hugging her bony frame, a boy hovering protectively by her side as if he’d come between them if so much as a harsh word crossed the king or queen’s lips. A girl who had risked her life to escape her imprisonment. A boy who had risked his life to bring her home. A girl who even now ran barefoot through the halls of this castle. A boy who even now followed her every step with steadfast protectiveness. This image, her own Mona Lisa, that reassured her when she worried for her daughter’s safety— and her daughter’s heart. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’ll ever have to.”

The rest of the night passed in dreamless rest.

Chapter Text

Dawn broke over a camp seething in tense silence.

The ashes of the campfire emitted a distinct smell of burnt fabric, a smell which Varian tried to ignore as he smothered the remains. He’d caught a glimpse of Hector earlier in the morning before the wraith-like man had disappeared into the treetops, wearing a black tunic rather than his usual gray.

They broke camp as quickly as possible, no one wanting to linger in the spot that had held such events. Though the Yellowjackets were dead and thus no longer a threat, no one seemed secure in that knowledge, still casting wary glances over shoulders and turning quickly to each woodland sound. Varian didn’t bother to take inventory of his alchemy as he packed, not wanting to see the damage.

He dragged along slower than he would have liked, his eyelids heavy as he stumbled through the motions. He hadn’t gotten a moment of sleep during the long night, though he’d given a good pretense when Hector and Quirin returned to camp. Every blink was an opportunity for another marred image to fixate itself in his mind. Every second in which he could feel himself starting to drift off was a second interrupted by a sharp stab of panic. Maybe once they were in motion, he could drift off, catch up on some much-needed rest.

Hector dropped from the trees without warning, and Varian flinched back, his foot catching against one of the bags. He scrambled to regain his balance before Hector could try to help him. With a guilty wince, Hector stepped away before reporting, “If Short Hair is headed to the tree from the north, we’ll need to head further east and then approach from the south so she doesn’t see us coming. It won’t take long for her to realize her plan failed. And…” The toe of his boot dug into the dirt. “I think we need to split up.”

Quirin leveled a stern glare on him. “How do you figure that?”

He didn’t look up from the ground. “Adira and I can move ahead and reach the Tree first. We can go quicker by ourselves. If the thief is there, we report back. You two can meet us there later.” He grabbed his bag and swung it over Kubwa’s back. “I’m sick of the games. Ready to get this over with.”

Adira raised an eyebrow. “You could travel quickest alone. Why do you want me with you?”

Hector’s shoulders slumped. He gave a quick glance over at Varian before replying in the Old Tongue. “Elyssh makaryath mi venneth.”

Varian frowned and crossed his arms. His studies in the Old Tongue weren’t progressing as quickly as he would like, and Hector knew that.

Quirin whirled on Hector suddenly, eyes ablaze with rare anger. He spoke too rapidly for Varian to understand, grabbing Hector by the shirt and dragging him closer. Hector still didn’t look up.

“That’s not what this is,” he answered. “I came back, didn’t I? I gotta make this right.”

Quirin let go. “Non venneth elys k’veo. Non elys cors.”

“I know.” He stepped away from Quirin and turned to face Varian fully.

Varian’s teeth ground together so hard his jaw ached. “So you’re running away, then?”

“Wow. You really do take after your old man, don’t’cha? I ain’t running, kid.” He knelt down and looked up to meet Varian’s eyes. “When I became your mentor and sword-father, I took an oath of my own. I protect you. I train you. You’re my blood now, my legacy. And I owe it to you to do that right. I have to be better for you. The kind of person I’d want to see you become. The person I was last night, I don’t want that for you. I don’t want you becoming that, and I don’t want that man leading you. You deserve the best from your mentor, so I have to be better. And that starts with making things right with Adira. She and I got some things to talk about, and you need some time with your dad. You and him ain’t hardly had any time together since you got him back. So travel with him for a bit, and we’ll meet back up in a few days. Got it?”

Varian glared sullenly. “Promise?”

Hector nodded. “Promise, kiddo. I ain’t leaving you. When we meet back up, we’ll talk all this out, ‘kay?”

“’Kay.”

Hector stood. “Artemis and the boys will stay with you. Send a message if you need us.” He swung himself up onto Kubwa’s back. “Be safe, travel fast, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Quirin scoffed. “I wouldn’t let him do half the stuff you do.”

He gave a sharp smile, though it remained only the ghost of his normal grin. “That’s the spirit. Var, keep your old man out of trouble. See you at the tree. Adira, race you to Redstone Valley?” With a loud war cry, he urged Kubwa forward. They disappeared into the treeline, Adira on their heels.

Varian’s chest ached as he watched them go. A part of him wanted to call Hector back, to insist they hash this out immediately. Another part of him wanted him to go, to get the haunting specter of the stranger from the night before away from him. The stranger who hid behind Uncle Hector’s familiar smile. And a third, traitorous part of him insinuated that it was his fault Hector was gone. He had pushed him away. He had been too skittish, unable to interact with Hector the way they used to. And Hector was giving him space, the way he always did when Varian demanded it.

“Well,” Quirin grumbled, picking up his own bags and swinging them over Aurora’s back. “That was unexpected, but we’ll make the most of it. Don’t worry about your uncle. He needs some time to work things out with Adira, then he’ll make it right with you. In the meantime, he’s right. We haven’t spent a lot of time with just the two of us. So how about it? Up for a road trip with your ‘old man’?” he asked, putting quotes around Hector’s playful epithet.

Varian stared out at the trees where Hector had disappeared. “Was this… my fault?” he asked, almost choking on the words.

Quirin sighed. Holding a hand by Varian’s shoulder, he wanted for the permissive nod before touching him. “No. You didn’t do this. Hector is… Hector needs some time. You didn’t force him to leave, if that’s what you’re worried about. He wants some time by himself so he can clear his head and ensure he doesn’t do anything that would hurt you. He hurt you last night without intending to, and he doesn’t want that to happen again.”

“He didn’t—”

“Hurt isn’t just physical,” Quirin interrupted. “You saw something in him last night that he never wanted you to see. You saw something last night that frightened you. Hector would never put a hand on you in anger, but you saw what he did to others, the way he responded to a threat.”

Varian’s shoulders slumped, and he swallowed back the stinging in his throat that preshadowed rising tears. “H-he did it because of me,” he ground out. “He killed them because of me.”

“No.” Quirin gently turned Varian to face him. He kept his hand on Varian’s shoulders but drew back slightly so he could look him in the eyes without over-towering him. “He killed them because of their own actions. Because they dared to hurt our family. They have no one to blame but themselves. You bear no fault for their crimes, nor for Hector’s response. Do you understand?”

Varian slowly nodded. “I… I guess.”

“Good.” He let go of Varian and gestured to their belongings. “If we hurry, we can reach the tree not long after them. We’ll show them who moves slowly.” He grabbed Varian’s travel pack and handed it to him. “Ready, son?”

He took the bag and climbed up onto Kiki’s back. Ruddiger hopped up onto Riki, eliciting a curbed snarl from the bearcat. Somewhere far ahead of him, Hector was fighting demons in his own mind with only Adira by his side to fight with him. Varian didn’t know yet if he believed Quirin; how could the deaths of three men be justified in Hector’s eyes simply because they’d dared to hurt him? But whether or not he believed him, he and Hector needed to get things clear between them. He’d spent too long letting things linger unspoken between himself and the others in his life.

“I’m ready,” he answered. “Let’s go.”

O‴O‴O‴

Hector ran until his lungs burned.

He’d long since left Kubwa and Adira to catch up, running under the path of the sun the way he’d run underneath the stars the night before, until his legs threatened to collapse underneath him and his hands stung from the rough scrape of tree bark when he abandoned the ground and took to the trees. When he finally stopped, Redstone Valley sprawling low before him, he threw his body over a large rock, soaking in the warmth of the sun on his ashen skin. He stretched, wincing as his shoulders cracked.

“Feel better?” Adira’s shadow fell over him.

He glared up at her. “You’re blocking the light.”

She smirked. “I’m the brightest star you’ll ever meet. But if you insist—” She moved quickly, and Hector winced when the sun hit his eyes, snapping them shut and sticking his tongue out at her.

“Anyway, I win,” he grumbled.

“Fine, you can have this one.” She hopped up on the rock beside him and crossed her legs. “Do you feel better?”

He stretched again. “It helped.” Sitting up, he sat cross-legged as well.

“Are you ready to talk about it?”

“I…” He grimaced. “I ain’t in a talking mood.”

“Well, that’s a first! I’ll have to tell Quirin that miracles do happen.”

He laughed sharply. “If you’re looking for a miracle, it’s that your mouth works without a brain attached to it.”

“You’re too kind. If you don’t feel like talking, do you feel like sparring?”

“Am I breathing?”

“Not for much longer, if you keep it up.” She stood and drew her sword. He did likewise, and they bowed.

When their blades clashed, Hector gave a grunt of exertion at the shock through his muscles and bones. Rebounding, he swiped at Adira’s feet, and she jumped back. Falling back onto their old habits— her taking the defensive, letting him land blow after blow on her sword without striking back, him taking the offensive and pressing her back until she spun out of his way and landed a kick against his side or his chest when his guard was lowered— they went back and forth, pouring sweat under the summer heat as they gasped for breath in the dusty air.

“Talk,” Adira ordered, switching to offensive and shoving him back against a wall of rock. She aimed a blow at his head, and he ducked under it. Her sword scraped against the stones with a loud screech as he backed away.

“I’m sorry.” He spun and kicked her sword hand, sending her blade flying. “I spoke from anger and fear. It was wrong. I know you’d never endanger Varian on purpose. I trust you. I trust you with him. And… I’m sorry I hit you.”

She retrieved her sword and lunged again. He stepped around her hit, but she dropped and swung her legs, striking his and sending him to the ground. Lifting his sword, he blocked her downward strike, shoving the point of her blade into the rocky ground. “I’m sorry, too,” she answered. “I overstepped. I wanted to help, and I didn’t think about the consequences of that.”

He kicked her away, leaping to his feet. “No. You were right to try. Varian needed space, and you were trying to give that to him. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t think about what that would do to him.”

She let him take the offensive again, stepping back and putting her arms behind her back. “He’s a skilled warrior in his own right. You taught him well. Why don’t you trust him to be alone?”

“I do trust him!” He winced as she kicked a wave of dust and debris at his face. “It’s everyone else I can’t trust. Too many people want to hurt him. I gotta protect him from that.”

“Do you think you’ll be with him every second of his life? Our mentors didn’t shelter us. Your job is to teach him to protect himself, not to shield him from every threat.”

“And what if they’d killed him?” Hector snarled and lunged at her. She dove aside, and his sword slammed into a rock, forming a deep crack and trapping his blade. He yanked it free, whirling on her. “If anything had happened to him, that’s on me! I brought him into this. I took responsibility for him. If anything happens to my kid, that’s my fault!”

“Hector—” Adira stepped back and blocked another hit, locking their blades together. “Where is this coming from? This isn’t like you.”

He gave a broken laugh. “Can’t I try new things? Who says I gotta stay the same all the time?”

She grabbed his wrist, slamming him back against the cliff wall. He thrashed against her grip, but she settled her blade against her throat as she pressed him harder into the rocks. “Enough games. You’re not alone anymore, Hector. Stop trying to pretend you are. We’re a family.” Her glare softened. “I want to help you. But I can’t if I don’t know what’s going on.”

He sagged against her hold. She loosened her grip on his wrist long enough for him to retract his gauntlet sword. “I’m scared, Adira,” he admitted. “I know we all were, with the red rocks. But this… I’m scared still. Of losing Varian. Of being powerless. And then… when I took matters into my own hand, I made a mistake. I let my fear control me, and I acted disgracefully. I went against the teachings of my mentor, my king, and my culture. And the worst of it all, I threatened my relationship with the most important person in my life. Just like I did twenty-six years ago, when I pushed my family away.”

She let him go.

Hector slumped back against the rocks, sliding down to sit on the ground. “I gambled, and I almost lost everything. I can’t do that again.”

“That’s why you wanted me to come with you.” She stared past him, at the rocks over his head. “What you said back there. You’re wrong, by the way. You don’t need me to keep you in check. You were right to kill those men.” She gave him a sharp side-eye. “And Edmund’s not right about everything.”

“He was right about me,” Hector muttered, echoing his words he’d shared with Quirin. Then he winced. Unlike his older brother, who would find the good in that, who would remind Hector of all the good inside him, Adira was far more ready to argue. She and Edmund had failed to see eye to eye on most things, Hector included. She’d argued about his place in their military. She’d argued about the Sundrop with both of them. In a way, Hector relied on that part of her, on her unwavering devotion to finding alternatives and new paths. Seldom did he agree with her, but she was nonetheless reliable.

And, reliably, she argued. “About what? Your nature? Hector, Edmund saw a like mind in you. Someone he could raise in his ways. But that doesn’t mean you have to listen to everything he says. I told you before we left home last. He’s allowed to be wrong.” She sat next to him, closing her eyes. “I’m scared, too.”

Hector turned to look at her. Until their darkest fears had been forced into the light, until that night around a dying campfire, he’d never heard Adira talk about her fear before. It still shook him to hear. Adira wasn’t supposed to be afraid. She was unyielding, confident, always ready with a quippy comeback or a sharp-tongued rebuttal. Like her rivalry with her cousin, it was yet another part of her he depended on.

“If we fail…” She looked up at the sky, where the sun had begun to retreat behind the clifftops. “That’s on me. You warned me not to let the Coronans into our homeland, and I didn’t listen. After everything we risked to keep our home and people safe, I threatened that because I thought I knew what was best. For years, I ignored your council and judgment. And now we’ve lost the one thing we swore to keep safe.” She looked him in the eye again, brows lowered over a tempestuous gaze. “You’re not the only one who made mistakes. We learn to move on. We make it right.” She pushed herself to her feet, pacing away from him. “Are we even?”

“I’m over it if you are.”

“Good. Let’s set up camp here tonight.” She gave a dry smile. “You’re going back to get Kubwa, though. He still has all our stuff.”

Hector groaned. “Think he’s mad at me?”

Her eyes widened mockingly. “Oh, no. Why would he be mad? You only left him behind so you could race me instead of staying where he could keep an eye on you. After you ran away last night. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Hector sighed, slumping against the rocks and muttering something Quirin wasn’t there to whack him for saying. “I’ll go find Kubwa. Put some flowers on my grave, huh?”

“Of course. We’ll read the final rites for you. ‘Here lies Hector, slain by his own stupidity.’”

He rolled his eyes and stood. If Kubwa didn’t kill him, Adira’s sarcasm would. Varian must have retroactively inherited it from her.

O‴O‴O‴

The Great Tree, once a proud and stately monolith and refuge for wanderers of all sorts, from birds and deer to lonesome knights and hurting children, now lay cold and dark against the landscape it had once towered. The fragments of its thick trunk stood up in jagged shards, so akin to the black rocks that it had once stood sentinel over. Branches, wider than some villages and longer than a winding road, rested atop the mountain range, their leaves withered and dispersed across the dusted peaks.

Varian’s throat closed up as he stared at the ruin. From this distance, it looked even worse than before. The river that wound around the base of the tree had backed up and diverted around the debris that had fallen, washing away many of the smaller trees that had grown around the roots. Two of the pathways he’d memorized to safely reach the entryway had been washed away in the mudslides and debris fall.

Had he judged incorrectly? There was no way Cassandra would be able to get through this mess to get to the scrolls, even if there were any left undamaged. Why would she go to that much work for the slim chance of finding anything of value, especially when she couldn’t read Demanitus’ writing? Had he dragged them all the way out here, to the grave of their home, for nothing?

Two shadows alit on the ground beside them. Adira came closer to where they stood at the edge of the cliff, while Hector drew back. “We’ve scouted around since yesterday,” she reported. “No sign of Short Hair, and no change in the rocks that we’ve seen. Doesn’t mean she’s not here, though. We haven’t gone inside yet.”

Quirin nodded. “That’s wise. The Tree could be unstable. When we go in, I’ll take point to look for the most secure route.”

“Why do we gotta go in at all?” Hector grumbled. Riki and Kiki would around his legs, purring contentedly. “If Short Hair ain’t here, we can just set up and wait on her, can’t we?”

Varian started to answer, but his words lodged in his throat. C’mon, quit being irrational. It’s just Uncle Hector!Coughing, he forced himself to answer, “Even if she’s not there, the scrolls are. We need those. And we need to make sure she can’t get them.”

Hector nodded. “’Kay. I don’t like it, but I’ll follow your lead on this one.”

Quirin motioned to Adira. “You’ve found a safe path down there? Show me.”

Adira nodded. “It’s a bit of a walk, but we’ll be back before sunset. We can head in tomorrow.” She started down the path leading toward the river, picking her way down over broken boulders and deep cracks in the ground—likely residual damage from something as colossal as the Tree being torn apart in minutes. Quirin followed her without a backward glance at the remaining two.

Varian gaped in indignation. Sure, he’d said he wanted to talk to Hector, but Quirin was being entirely unfair by just ditching him here with him! Couldn’t he at least stay to mediate?

Ruddiger, on the other hand, was more than happy to interject his opinion. He leapt off Varian’s shoulder, hissing and spitting at Hector. Hector backed away, holding up his hands placatingly. “Bold words, rat. I ain’t gonna hurt him, calm down.” He lifted his eyes to meet Varian’s. “So… we gonna talk about it?”

Though that was technically the plan, a bit of Varian’s petulant nature answered for him. “What’s there to talk about?”

He sighed. “C’mon, kid, don’t do this to me. I’m trying to make this right. I already made up with Adira and Quir. So can I just— can we talk?”

A bit abashed, Varian nodded. “Yeah.” He leaned against a nearby tree, wrapping his arms around himself. “What did you want to say?”

“Kid… Varian, I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry I killed those thugs. Our family don’t take kindly to people threatening our own, and our code allows for it. But I lost myself for a bit. I made you afraid of me.”

Ruddiger scoffed at that, chittering unhappily, but Riki swatted at him with one paw, dragging him over to where the bearcats lay and pinning him gently to the ground.

Varian didn’t answer, staring back instead at the ruins of his second home. Time hadn’t dulled the loss, the pain. In their time wandering, hunting, he’d ignored the untethered feelings by thinking of his family. How could he be away from home when his people were all around him? Now, seeing the wreckage again, where he and Hector had both nearly lost their lives, that wound scratched again at his heart. And now he was close to losing Hector again, if he didn’t answer right.

“Say something,” Hector pleaded. “Be mad at me. Yell at me or something. I won’t hold it against you.”

“I’m fine,” Varian lied. “I’m not mad.”

With a sharp huff, Hector took a step forward, one hand outstretched toward Varian. Varian flinched, drawing back sharply against the tree. His short swords, trapped between him and the trunk, pressed into his spine. He twisted his head to keep Hector on his left.

Hector stopped short. “See?”

“You—” Varian gritted his teeth. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry. Wanted to prove a point. You can say you’re fine, but you’re still scared of me. We have to be able to trust each other, kiddo. That’s part of the deal. And you don’t trust me right now. And I get it, I really do. I didn’t trust myself.”

“It’s not that easy,” Varian growled, pushing away from the tree and pacing closer to the edge of the cliff.

“Then talk to me. Tell me everything you’re feeling. Don’t keep it to yourself. You ain’t gonna hurt my feelings, so don’t try looking for the ‘right’ answer.” He knelt on the ground, sliding his gloves off and setting them aside. “This ain’t back then, kid. You don’t gotta pretend everything’s okay when you’re hurting. We’re family.”

Varian looked back over his shoulder, fighting back the sharp stinging in his throat. Not like then. There’s no guards to drag me away if I say the wrong thing. No royalty to appease. “Dad says it’s not my fault they’re dead,” he whispered. “But you killed them because they hurt me. So it kinda is.”

Hector’s brows furrowed. “No. Quirin’s right this time. They only got themselves to blame.”

“So that makes it right? They hurt me, so they deserved to die.”

“Yeah.”

“Then why don’t I?”

With a quizzical frown, Hector answered, “I don’t follow.”

Varian turned to face him fully. “Why don’t I deserve what happened to me? I hurt people. Innocent people. How come what I did was okay, but what they did wasn’t?”

Hector stood. “Varian, we’ve been over this before. What them freaks did to you wasn’t justice. It was torture. It was sick and unfair. You know this.”

“I know,” he admitted, shoulders slumping from their tense posture. “But doesn’t that mean they didn’t deserve it either?”

“No.” Hector’s golden eyes grew stormy. “No, because they didn’t just kidnap you out of desperation because they were scared kids who had been lied to and betrayed by the adults. They were adults who knowingly snatched a kid, hurt you, and would’ve handed you over to Cassandra without a second thought. They didn’t have to side with her. They saw a way to make some quick money.” He raised his hand like he wanted to reach for Varian again, but he dropped it back to his side quickly. “You see the difference? You ain’t responsible for their bad choices, ‘kay? When people threaten our family, we act. That’s how we operate. Your safety is my priority. You deserve to be protected.”

He sighed and paced a few steps away, giving Varian some more space. “But you still have every right to be upset with me. I told you, I lost myself there. If I’d been thinking clearly, I woulda let Quirin take care of them. He coulda interrogated them, and maybe we coulda found out what the crazy lady is up to.” When Varian didn’t answer, once again staring away and into the distance, Hector continued, “Look, kid. I know how you feel about blood. This life I live… it’s stained with it. I can’t get it off my hands. It’s part of me now. And I don’t want that for you. I want you to know how to protect yourself, and I want you to honor your homeland and your people, even if you’ve only met, like, four of us. But the blood, the killing, that’s not for you. So if you need someone else to take over your training, I get it. I just want you to be okay. I want the best for you, even if that ‘best’ isn’t me.”

“I do think it’s you, though!” Varian snapped. His teeth dug into his lip as he worked over his words in his mind. Though he and Hector tended to argue from time to time—frankly, Hector tended to argue with everyone from time to time, so Varian didn’t feel too guilty about it since it seemed to be his default mannerism—it never made it any easier to find the solution. He and Quirin had rarely argued, after all, so it was still new to him. “You— I want it to be you. You rescued me. You healed me. You made me feel like I could live again! If you hadn’t broken me out of jail, I’d still be sitting there in my own blood—or I’d be dead by now. I don’t want someone else teaching me; I want you to teach me. You promised. You said you wouldn’t leave. So you can’t just— just pass me off to someone else now!”

“Kid, I’m—” Hector huffed. “I ain’t giving you up. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t want me to step back, ‘kay?” He blinked rapidly, turning his head aside. “You want someone like me, that’s fine. I’ll do better by you. Be less…”

Something broke in Varian’s chest. He wanted to run to Hector, to allow the man’s arms to encircle him in that familiar, protective embrace. He wanted to look away, to forget the sight of that blood-stained smile. Biting back a sob, he choked out, “I want things to go back to how they used to be. I don’t know this part of you. How can I trust that you’re— How do I know you’re not lying to me? I thought I knew my— I thought I knew Rapunzel and her friends, and I was wrong. I keep falling for the same tricks. I want to trust you again, but…”

“But I keep things hidden,” Hector completed the thought. “I keep parts of myself to myself. Things I didn’t want you to see.” He sighed and nodded. “I know. It wasn’t fair to you. I told you a little about my past, but I didn’t expect you to have to see it so up close. I’m gonna do better, kid. I made a stupid decision to protect someone I love.”

Varian snorted. “I understand that. Can’t really judge you for that, I guess.”

“Can you forgive me? For scaring you that way?”

Varian nodded. He took a hesitant half-step toward Hector. Hector closed the distance between them, holding out one arm in invitation. Accepting the olive branch, Varian took the final step, leaning into Hector and letting his arms close around him. A hand—a hand that had once held a blade, that had taken lives, that had scarred a king— came up to card through his hair, gentle and careful.

“I love you, Varian,” Hector’s raspy voice cut through his muddled thoughts. “Eres mi sol. Te amo.”

“Te amo,” Varian echoed.

“We’ll be okay. I’m gonna earn your trust back.”

“Promise me.” The command, the second promise he’d exacted out of Hector, came easily to his tongue. Hector kept promises. Always.

Hector knelt, keeping his hands on Varian’s arms. “I swear it on my sword and on my favorite zucchini bread recipe.”

“’Kay.”

Standing again, Hector put his arm around Varian’s shoulders. They looked out together at the ruin of the first home they’d shared. “Tomorrow,” Hector muttered. “This is your call, kid. You think we need to get inside there, we’ll go. Those papers could be deadly in the wrong hands.”

“Yeah.” Varian raised an eyebrow. “You left your zucchini bread recipe in there, didn’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely. And I want it back.”

Quirin and Adira returned before sunset, sharing a conspiratorial smile when they saw Varian and Hector studying the maps together. The four of them sat on the edge of the cliff, their furred friends curled up close to them, watching the rays of the setting sun adorn the Tree in molten gold.

Chapter Text

Underneath a cracked archway, a dark, gaping chasm opened like the maw of a serpent, twisting away into shadows. The Tree hung low where it lay, the once-ornate structure that it housed now a broken relic of the past. Varian stopped and knelt before a large chunk of stone, adorned with half a carving of a protective rune, similar to those that had decorated the walls of the Demanitus Chamber. Not much good the runes had done in the end.

Beside him, Hector stared forward into the opening, eyes unfocused and fists curling and uncurling by his side. Varian slipped his hand into Hector’s, pressing against his side. “I’m here,” he whispered.

Hector nodded, tearing his gaze away from the entryway. His fingers tightened around Varian’s hand.

Quirin moved forward. “Our animals will stay here. I’ll take point so I can make sure our path is secure. Hector, you’re behind me. Tell me where to go. Varian, you stay right behind him, and Adira, watch our back. We get in and out as quickly as possible. If anyone sees Cassandra, do not engage. We can’t fight her in here. We’ll lure her out onto the mountainside.”

“Clear,” Hector and Adira answered in unison. The aforementioned animals didn’t look thrilled, but to their credit, none of them argued. Ruddiger whined and tugged at Varian’s leg, but Varian scratched him behind the ears assuringly.

“Good. Let’s go.” Quirin started off into the mouth of the great beast. Hector shuddered, then released Varian’s hand to follow him. Varian kept close behind him, one hand on the hilt of his dagger and the other clutching the strap of his bag. Just ahead, Quirin held a torch aloft, and Adira did the same behind them. Shadows danced along the mossy walls, stretching and twisting into inhuman shapes. They crawled alongside the travelers, almost mockingly, as their long limbs reached outward. When something brushed against the side of Varian’s face, he yelped, drawing his knife and slicing through the small branch he’d brushed against.

“Easy,” Adira cautioned. “Good reflexes, but know what you’re hitting before you hit it.” She held the torch higher so he could see the path more clearly.

They broke out into the clearing that made up the center of the Tree. Quirin shoved a broken segment of wall aside so they could climb through. Varian stared upward, up into the hollow of the Tree. Jagged segments of wood pierced through the hollow like the black rocks, entire sections collapsed and crumpled like a used piece of parchment. Pale sunlight flitted through in small beams, not enough to illuminate the dark chasm. Pillars and branches lay haphazardly leaned on each other, creaking ominously with every shift of the wind.

“Watch your step,” Quirin ordered. “This rubble is unstable.”

“Don’t I know it,” Hector grumbled. “Worse than the Crucible. Varian, watch your head, huh? No more concussions.”

Quirin turned and gave them a sharp look. “You got a concussion here?”

Varian and Hector froze, exchanging a guilty look. Quickly forcing a casual smile, Varian answered, “It was no big deal, really! I’ve had worse in my lab.”

“Mm-hm.” Quirin didn’t seem convinced. “We’ll discuss that later. Somehow I get the feeling you haven’t told me everything.”

“Aww, lighten up,” Hector grumbled. “It was one little bump on the head. That brick wall on top of him protected him from most of the fall.” 

“The what? ”

Hector coughed. “Right, anyway, the scroll room is this way. We better get moving. We said we wanted to make this quick, right?” He shoved past Quirin and marched forward.

“We aren’t done with this conversation,” Quirin warned as he followed. “So help me, Hector—”

Varian tuned them out, staring around at the Tree. Time had worn it down, and the black rocks had stretched their influence here as well. Through the rubble, sharp spikes protruded like grasping fingers. He sidestepped one, trailing a finger along it and feeling for the emitted energy. “Are these wrong, too?” he asked Adira.

She nodded. “It feels stronger here. Possibly because we’re closer to the Dark Kingdom, though I can’t say for certain. Keep your guard up, malen'kiy rytsar'.”

They passed through the ruin as quickly as possible, avoiding the pit in the center. From down below, near the Heart, a familiar soft light washed the walls in pale blue. Hector had left the spear there, driven in deep to ensure the Heart wouldn’t awaken again. Around the pit, half-sprawled along the ground and half-clinging to the walls in their dying grasp, thick vines lay in various stages of death and decay. Like veins on a muscled arm, they jutted up out of the ground, harmless save for a tripping hazard.

Up ahead, Hector’s breath had started to quicken again. Quirin stepped closer to him, and Hector leaned one arm almost lazily on his shoulder— to the casual observer, perhaps just a brotherly gesture; but to Varian, the motion spoke of Hector’s masked struggle. His need for contact, for support, for some sign of familiarity in this corpse that had once been his home.

Through the pathways and halls, they wound further into the Tree, stopping to backtrack when one path or another grew too overgrown or blocked by wreckage. The trek that should have taken five minutes took almost forty-five. When they finally reached the scroll room, Varian gave a weary sigh. “Finally,” he grumbled. “Thought we’d never get here. And hey, it doesn’t look too bad!” He grinned as he surveyed the room where he’d spent most of his time. One long pillar had smashed the room in half, but the shelves lining the wall were by and large intact. Manuscripts lay scattered about, and some had fallen into the small pond, but the majority were undamaged. Varian ran to the nearest wall and trailed his fingers along the edges of the scrolls. Demanitus’ work, or at least the larger part of it, had been stored in this tree for a millennium. The vast wealth of knowledge contained in this one library was far more valuable than any treasure hoard of any king, more dangerous than any weaponry the most skilled warmonger could create. If it had gotten ruined because of one careless moment, one anger-driven fight…

Hector’s hand rested on his shoulder. “All yours, kid. You know what to look for. Quirin says the room’s secure, or as secure as it can get, I guess. I’m heading out to look around. Be back later.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Not going far, just to scout. I don’t like the feel of those rocks. I’ll be back in an hour, maybe two. If you need me, send Adira.” 

Varian frowned but nodded. As Hector left, he turned back to the wall of shelves, picking up a few to sort through. Quirin and Adira began collecting the scrolls that had scattered nearby. They wouldn’t be able to take everything with them, but if they could put them somewhere safe, they could always come back later. Perhaps once this was all over and they went back home, Varian could start a library dedicated to Demanitus’ work.

Quirin stepped out of the room for a bit, returning with an intact chest for the scrolls they would be leaving. Varian retrieved an empty satchel for those that they would take. “Anything with any images of the Sunflower or the rocks,” he instructed. “We don’t have time to translate all of this, but grab whatever looks important. I’ve already catalogued most of it, so look on the left side of the shelf. I’ll start on the right.”

In the dim light of the torches, now mounted to wall brackets, the sorting took far longer than it should have. Varian gritted his teeth and angled a parchment closer to the light. The last time he’d been in this room, he’d had natural sunlight to work with, and his evenings were traditionally occupied with training. Of course, the last time he’d been in this room, it had been without two members of his family.

But even so, a part of him longed for the simplicity of those days again. Sure, he had been skittish and consumed by fear, clinging desperately to any sign of love while simultaneously pushing Hector away for fear of what that love would cost; but there had been a steadiness to those days, a reassurance that Hector would be there to talk him through his bad days, a routine he could settle into easily, an unfamiliar feeling of being home and safe. No short-haired Moonstone thieves, no warring with Coronan monarchy, no questioning who the people he traveled with and called family truly were.

Was it too much to ask for his uncle back?

It would take time, Quirin kept reminding him. But it would happen. Things would settle again. As they’d traveled separately for this last week, Quirin had opened up more about their shared past, finally giving a voice to the unspoken shadows. While life in Corona had been difficult, the Dark Kingdom had been burdened with more than its share of hardships, and only the resilience of its people had kept it alive. Hector had learned to fight there, to strike first and strike hard. He had been forged by the streets, his rougher edges honed by Edmund until he became the perfect knife.

They all had, to an extent. Quirin had been born for leadership, for carrying the weight of people’s lives on his shoulders without complaint. For making the hard calls, for putting his own emotions aside to do what he knew was right. Adira rejected her own role of leadership to sacrifice herself on the battlefield, knowing she could serve better in the mud and blood than from her throne.

And Varian tried to understand, he really did. Tried to shed off the old Coronan skin that still clung to him, to see the two kingdoms as the vastly different entities they were. Tried to understand that Hector’s actions weren’t born of cruelty or bloodlust, that they were responses from a soldier who had been wielded like a weapon since he was a child. The responses of a man who had lost too much, who loved fiercely and unconditionally, who feared losing his family more than anything and who had lived with that fear as his reality for twenty-five years.

Varian sighed and carefully rolled the parchment back up, sticking it in his bag. He’d seen enough glyphs representing “light,” “darkness,” “sun,” and “moon” to safely assume it was one of the papers they needed without having to do a full translation. Even seeing that much was a good sign, since his mind was anywhere but on his task.

From across the room, Quirin straightened up and winced as his back popped. He stepped closer to Varian, gesturing with the scroll in his hand. “Adira and I can handle this part. Go find him.”

“Sir?”

He gave a tired smile. “You’ve been staring at that same paper for almost ten minutes. Go find Hector. You should be able to find him fairly quickly.”

Varian nodded and set his bag down. “Thanks, Dad.”

“And be careful. This Tree is still unstable.”

“Yeah, I got it, I got it!” He sprinted from the room, back the way they had come.

Reaching the hollow center, he stared up into the faintly-lit body. Which way would Hector have gone? If he had to search the entire Tree for him, they could be here for ages. But Quirin seemed to be certain he could find him; and, given that he was allowing Varian to walk around the very unstable Tree by himself, that meant that Hector probably hadn’t gone far. Varian paused and looked around, thinking back to the lessons Hector had taught him so long ago in this very monolith. If Hector were scouting around because of the rocks, then it was the rocks that held the answer to his whereabouts.

He approached one lone rock, slipping his glove off and touching the smooth surface. Why was Quirin so certain that he would find him in this mess? Had Hector left a trail? The rocks didn’t follow any sort of pattern or pathway, so that couldn’t be what he was referring to. And the energy seeping off the rocks was sourced from Cassandra’s misuse of the Moonstone, so that wouldn’t tell him anything.

Was this another lesson? Hector was usually pretty open about when he wanted to teach something, and Adira usually just threw him into situations and let him learn from experience. But Quirin taught through hints and subtle nudges. Back in Old Corona, back when they still talked about such mundane things as farming, Quirin would ask him questions and let him try to find the answers instead of simply telling him how things worked. He studied crop rotation and photosynthesis, writing down his findings and hypotheses in his little notebooks. If this was like that, then Quirin wanted him to learn something about either tracking or about the Brotherhood. And there were no tracks to follow.

He frowned and looked at his hand. King Edmund had said there were secrets of the Brotherhood he’d discover with time, secrets that were learned but not taught. If he could feel the energy from the black rocks, if they were connected to them through the power of the Moonstone, then… could they sense each others’ energy if they were close?

Closing his eyes, he reached out with his senses, feeling the brush of the dark rocks’ energy against his heart. There had to be some rational scientific explanation for it— maybe based on electromagnetic frequencies?— but he had yet to find out what that explanation was. When Hector had first taught him this, he’d expected it to be sharp and damaging, as destructive inside as it was outside. But Hector had laughed, reminding him that the Moonstone protected those who protected her. The sensation was cold, bitterly so, and dug into his heart, but it wasn’t painful or constricting like he’d feared. It felt like wearing armor, something heavy sitting on his chest like an extra layer. It felt wrong still, unpleasant to an extent, ill-fitted and rubbing the wrong way; as long as the Moonstone was in Cassandra’s hands, it likely would.

Reaching past that, he searched for Hector. What would his signature feel like? Would it be warm and welcoming, the feeling of home and safety? Would it be sharp and unfamiliar, a stranger covered in blood?

His breath caught in his throat as he found what he was searching for. The force of a storm struck through him, nearly tearing his hand away from the rock as he stumbled. A half-laugh, half-sob broke from his mouth as he caught his footing and clung to the new signature. It was so much and so Hector, undeniably so, though not at all what he’d expected. It was a storm at midnight, hurricane winds tearing through trees, shattering walls and battering castle keeps. It was gentle as a whisper, soft and patient. It was home and danger and proud looks and blood-stained hands and unflinching determination. It was guilt and anger and a promise.

Varian opened his eyes, letting go of the rock. Pulling his glove back on, he started moving, following the path through the tree to where he’d felt Hector. His vision blurred as he ran, and he blinked away the tears that collected in his eyes.

He found Hector sitting on a branch, staring out into the hollow. Hector gave a small smile and patted the branch beside him. Varian sat, leaning against his side.

“I didn’t know we could do that,” he said breathlessly. “What is that?”

“When you’re in a battle, you have to be able to know where your teammates are. It’s a connection formed by the Moonstone, allowing us to move as a unit.” He raised an eyebrow sharply. “Wanna know the kicker?” With a dry, humorless laugh, he continued, “It only works over short distances. So fairly useless when, say, your kid gets grabbed by some sick freaks who wanna—”

He cut himself off, hanging his head. “Anyway, did some scouting. No sign of Short Hair. She’s either not here or she’s hiding pretty well. But hey, found my recipe!” He held up a carefully folded piece of paper.

Varian snorted. “Why do you call her that? I thought nicknames were Aunt Adira’s thing.”

“Eh. Not worth my effort to call her by her name. She wants a name, she can give the stupid rock back.”

Varian leaned closer to Hector, drawing his knees to his chest. “So… I talked to Dad this week.”

“Good. I hoped you would. Y’all do some bonding or whatever? Go fishing, or whatever it is dads do with their kids?”

“Yeah— I mean, we— we talked a lot this week. I’m glad we got to spend time together. I mean, not that I don’t like when you and Aunt Adira are around, I just—”

“Kid, I get it. It’s okay.”

“Ah. We, uh, talked a lot about the Dark Kingdom. How it used to be before… you know. He never used to open up like that. So… thanks. For giving us that chance.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Quirin left a lot behind him when he left. It’s good to see him start to get his old fire back. Hate that it happened like this, though. He deserved better than that.”

“He told me about what you three were like as kids. Not just the adventures and stuff. What it was like for you to grow up like that.”

Hector sighed and ran his hand through his braids. “I get the feeling this is going somewhere.”

“I’m trying to understand better. I’m not from the Dark Kingdom. I know that’s my home now, but I was raised in Corona. I didn’t think about war or violence. My biggest worries were making sure I didn’t accidentally blow up the town because of my alchemy. So it’s hard for me to understand that sort of… culture, I guess.”

Hector scoffed. “Ain’t about the culture. Well, part of it is. But I messed up, ‘kay? I don’t regret trying to protect you. I’d do it again. But I killed unarmed and defenseless opponents. Worse, I killed opponents who couldn’t even run. I let my hatred do the talking.” He gave a sharp side-eye toward Varian. “But don’t pity them. They don’t deserve it. They reaped the consequences of their actions.”

“I know,” he answered softly. “I don’t pity them. Not anymore. I thought… I thought that they were like me. But they’re not— they weren’t. I guess maybe I didn’t think it was worth it. Killing them.”

“Varian.” Hector’s finger hooked under his chin gently, guiding his head up. “Protecting you will always be worth it. It’s my job and my honor. You are my son. I will always defend you. That won’t ever be a question. If it means condemning myself, betraying everything I stood for, I’d still do it.”

Varian hissed, flinching as the near-treasonous words came so easily from Hector’s lips. “I know,” he echoed again. “But there are more important things than—”

“Than keeping you safe? Than protecting my family? What do we fight for, if not this? What did I sacrifice twenty-five years for, if not this?” His hand rested against the side of Varian’s face. “Be honest with me. Why do you think you don’t deserve to be protected?”

“I don’t think that!”

Hector’s eyes narrowed, hurt and frustration marring his features. “Tell me the truth, mi sol. Why do you think you aren’t worth it?”

Something in Varian cracked. Something he’d kept to himself, a desperate plea, a question that had never been answered. Something he’d justified for months, pretending it made sense, pretending it didn’t hurt the way it did. “Because I wasn’t defended when I needed it,” he answered, voice cracking. “Because I needed help, I needed someone to protect me, and nobody was there. Until you.” He leaned forward, resting his head against Hector’s arm. His eyes burned with unshed tears. “Why didn’t they help me? I know I didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I didn’t deserve to be abandoned. So why did they do it?”

Hector wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer. “If I had to guess? Nobody makes it through this life without a few battle scars. And sometimes those scars heal stiff. Sometimes, when we try to move, they pull the wrong way and they hurt. So we don’t move. We don’t aggravate the wound. Doesn’t make it right. Doesn’t mean we don’t have to try to do the right thing. But people are a little easier to understand when you know they’ve all got some scars we don’t see. Those kids, that princess, they messed up. They hurt you. And now you’re trying to make amends, and so is she. Doesn’t change the hurt, but it helps to stitch up the wound.”

Varian nodded slowly. “Like… when I used alchemy again to save the queen.”

“Exactly. It hurt you to open up that old scar. But you did what you knew was right. Woulda been easier to walk away and let them handle it.”

“I think I get what you mean. And I’m not mad at her still, really. We’re making progress.”

“And that’s okay. It doesn’t all have to happen at one time. Not even for us.”

Varian nodded and turned his gaze back toward the center of the Tree. Though his time here had been short, it had been his first home in over ten months. He had thought to spend years here, even the rest of his life, learning under Hector’s tutelage and becoming a warrior like him. “I miss this place.”

“Me too, kid.”

“We need to go. We can’t stay here any longer.”

A glance at Hector revealed the same unfocused look he’d gotten as they entered the tree. He gave a quick nod and stood, offering a hand to Varian. They paused one moment more on the branch, each lost in thoughts of what was and what could have been, the hopes and plans that had been torn apart here and left to rot within the hollow wooden casket. Then they started back the way they’d come.

O‴O‴O‴

Halfway back, a wounded cry echoed through the cavern, fragmenting against the stone and wooden walls. Hector tensed up, putting out a hand to stop Varian. The cry could have come from an animal, something that had wandered in unawares, or a person trespassing where they didn’t belong. As it repeated, he tilted his head, trying to catch which direction it had come from.

“Go back to the others,” he ordered. “I’ll catch up.”

“I can help—”

“Not this time. I need you back in that room. If I need help, I’ll call. It’s probably nothing, but the less of us wandering around, the better.”

Thankfully, Varian didn’t argue. He nodded and took back off toward the scroll room. Hector jumped up onto another branch, climbing noiselessly toward the source of the noise. In the darkness, he blended into the shadows, allowing him to move unseen through the ruin. Picking his way through the ruin, he landed lightly on a wall of the tree that tilted sideways, leaving a diagonal path upward.

The noise came again, more frantic this time. From here, it sounded less like an animal and more like a small child, perhaps from an outlying village. He muttered a curse in Spanish. While he had lived here, he’d kept enough mystery and crypticity around the Tree that everyone knew well enough to leave it alone. If the local brats had taken to using this as a hideout because he wasn’t here to scare them off, then he’d have to find their parents and give them the lecture of a lifetime.

He dropped down onto a flat surface, scanning the area for signs of life. Nobody was there. But the pleading cry continued, sounding as if it came from not five feet in front of him.

“Who’s there?” he called. His sword sprung free from its hiding place. “Show yourself!” 

The cries shifted, shortening in length until they more closely resembled laughter. It echoed around him, overlapping itself as it grew louder. Hector tensed, spinning in a circle to find the source. The Tree was just as empty as it had been when they’d arrived.

“Foolish moonchild,” a raspy voice grated against his nerves, low and cold right beside him. He whirled around, swinging his blade. It met with nothing but empty air.

Breathing heavily, he ground his teeth together. “Where are you? What are you?”

The laughter increased in pitch. It wrapped around him, screeching like sharp fingernails against a stone, constricting his lungs. He brought his hands up to cover his ears, wincing as the cackling pierced through his weak efforts to block it out. It crawled along his skin, twisting and creeping around his wrists and arms like—

Like vines.

Zhan Tiri.

He dragged in a shaking breath. “Varian!”

O‴O‴O‴

He awoke with a groan, a bitter taste in his mouth. Wincing at the pounding in his skull, he tried to push himself up, but his aching shoulders protested the movement. Forcing his eyes open, Varian looked around, grimacing when he saw the crouched figure in front of him.

“I don’t suppose this is a really realistic nightmare?” he grumbled.

“Afraid not,” Cassandra answered softly. “Sorry I hit you so hard. How do you feel?”

“Like you ambushed me and knocked me in the head.” He tried to sit up, but his arms were bound behind his back. Tugging at his restraints, he growled in frustration. He was sitting slouched against one of the many black rocks in the room, his arms cuffed around it. Instead, he used his feet to push himself upright. “Is this the part where you give me some speech about how you’re doing the right thing and you need my help?” A glance around the large room (once a drawing room, based on the furniture shoved to the side) showed nothing that could help him. His weapons had been placed out of reach— and undoubtedly his lock picks, too. One window showed a partial view of the mountains surrounding the tree. This part of the tree, at least, had remained semi-intact and upright. Could he use the trick he’d learned earlier to call for help? Did it even work like that? How long would it take for his family to reach him?

“I think you already know what I’d say. We’ve had that conversation plenty of times. I do still want you on my side, Varian, but I’m out of time. I need answers now.”

“Answers?”

She stood and moved closer to him, dropping to one knee beside him. “What’s the third incantation?”

“Huh?”

Her unnaturally blue eyes narrowed. Varian tried not to shrink under her gaze. That look hadn’t been nearly as intimidating when she still had gray eyes. She had never been the friendliest, but at least then her eyes had held some semblance of warmth. Not like this empty mockery. “The third incantation on the scroll. The one that will let me access all of the Moonstone’s power. I need it. And you already know what it is. So we’ll make this simple. You’ll give it to me, and I’ll let you go.”

“And if I don’t?”

She smiled, an expression just as cold as her eyes. “You don’t have a choice. Did anyone ever tell you you sleep with your mouth open?”

“I—” He froze, running his tongue along his teeth. The lingering aftertaste of serum still coated the inside of his mouth. He stopped breathing for a moment as his gaze fell on the bag sitting open nearby, its contents spilled carelessly on the ground. 

His alchemy bag. 

Seeing his look, Cassandra held up a small vial. “Shall we try this again? What’s the third incantation?”

Everything he’d taken from Corona was in there… Every single serum, compound, and element he’d deemed too dangerous to be left in Corona under Rapunzel’s care. Everything he’d had left after defending himself against the Yellowjackets.

“The incantation, Varian.”

She’d used his alchemy against him. Forced him to swallow one of his serums.

“What have you done?” he hissed.

She held the vial closer to him so he could see the label. He almost laughed as he read the words printed neatly in his own handwriting. Truth serum. She’d drugged him with his truth serum.

“Don’t make me ask again,” she warned. “I tried to do this the easy way, I really did. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He gritted his teeth, pressing his back into the rock. “I won’t tell.”

“What is the Moonstone’s other incantation?”

“None of your business.”

She snorted. “I guess that’s technically the truth, from your point of view. Let’s try again. Tell me the incantation.”

“If you keep saying ‘incantation,’ I’m gonna scream.”

Now it was her turn to look frustrated. “I should’ve known your stupid little trick wouldn’t work.”

“Oh, it works fine. In fact, under normal circumstances, it compels the drinker to answer, whether they want to or not.” He rolled his shoulders back, stretching as best he could in his uncomfortable position. “Unfortunately— well, unfortunately for you, at least— these aren’t normal circumstances. I’m immune to that stuff now.” He nodded his head down at his left arm and the parallel lines that decorated it. “Getting cut up for telling the truth tends to do that.”

A flicker of emotion— finally!— reached her eyes. It faded just as quickly. “Immune? Fantastic. The one thing in here that would’ve let us do this peacefully, and you just had to go and develop an immunity to it.”

“You’re the one making this not peaceful! You kidnapped me, remember?”

She lifted her hand as if to strike him, and Varian flinched away, drawing his shoulders up. With a short hiss, Cassandra lowered her arm. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Varian. I’m—I said I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He uncurled only enough to glare at her. “You shoulda thought of that before you knocked me out.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to get you by yourself. Please, Varian, don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.”

A short scoff sounded from the doorway. Hector stood there, sword drawn, murderous hatred in his eyes. “Trust me, I’ll make sure you regret this.”

“You,” she seethed, standing. “I am sick of you getting in my way!”

“Then stop taking my kid.” He lifted his blade, pointing it at her throat. “We both know how this ends. You couldn’t beat us last time.”

She smirked. “Last time, I didn’t have this.” With her armored foot, she nudged the vials that had spilled from Varian’s bag. “You sure you want to do this? I don’t know what any of this stuff does. Anything could happen. Are you going to risk that with Varian in here?”

“Are you? Pretty bad way to recruit someone.”

Instead of answering, she lifted her hand, sharp spikes encircling her feet.

Hector rolled his eyes. “Drama queen. Fine. Quirin, get Var. Adira, with me.”

Cassandra gasped, but Adira had already sprung from her hiding place. Dropping her shoulder, she slammed into Cassandra’s side, sending her flying across the room like a broken marionette. Varian tensed when a hand touched his shoulder, but a glance over his shoulder showed Quirin. Keeping one eye on Cassandra, Quirin began working at the locks.

Cassandra screamed in rage, shooting wave after wave of rocks at Hector and Adira. The room shook from the battering, sending waves of dirt and dust flying from the ceiling and walls. The knights dodged the reckless attacks easily, dancing around Cassandra in a perfectly-timed, deadly waltz. Was this what Hector had meant when he said their Moonstone-created connection helped them in battle, or was this simply their years of fighting as a single unit? They struck in sync, alternating their attack pattern to keep Cassandra off balance. When she pressed forward on one, the other attacked from behind, forcing her back on the defensive. Adira locked their blades together, scowling as her metal replacement got scratched by the sword Cassandra had stolen from her. She pushed back, and Hector lunged forward, forcing Cassandra to release the sword and dodge his blow. The unbreakable blade hit the ground. Adira reached for it, but Cassandra drew a wave of rocks closer to her, using it to push the sword back into her hand. 

Quirin suddenly tensed, withdrawing his hands from Varian’s wrists. Varian gasped, drawing back against the rock as the ground around Cassandra began to turn red. Adira and Hector jumped back to avoid the crimson spikes that shot up around her.

“What’s the matter?” Cassandra taunted. “Scared?”

“Tch. You are, apparently,” Hector sneered.

Quirin sprang the lock on one cuff, and Varian’s arms fell to his sides. He lifted the remaining restraint toward Quirin, who kept working at it. Rolling his shoulder back, he stood, and the two backed away from the fight. Adira and Hector hadn’t moved yet, each considering their options.

“We can end this here,” Cassandra offered. “Let me walk.”

“Why? So you can come after our family again?” Hector shot back. “Ain’t gonna happen.”

Adira crossed her arms. “You clearly haven’t thought this through. You’re wielding a power you’re incapable of understanding, much less controlling. So your plan was to attack our nephew less than a mile from where we were? Frankly, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long without stabbing yourself in the foot. Amateur,” she muttered, shaking her head.

Cassandra either didn’t notice or didn’t care that she was at a disadvantage. “Last chance to do this the easy way.”

“Not interested,” Hector answered. “Thanks for the offer, but sell it to someone who cares.”

“Fine.” She lifted her hand, but instead of sending more rocks at them, she twisted her wrist and shot a wave toward Quirin and Varian.

“Move!” A hand grabbed Varian, tossing him bodily across the room. He landed with a grunt, rolling until he struck the wall. Sitting up, he gasped sharply, a flare of panic rising in his chest. On the other side of a wall of rocks, Quirin stood, drawing his broadsword, and Varian breathed a deep sigh.

Hector lunged toward Cassandra with a snarl, and she ducked under his swing, reaching for Varian’s alchemy bag. Grabbing a vial, she threw it at his feet. A cloud of red dust exploded around him, and he fell into a coughing fit. She thrust a blunt rock at him, striking him in the side and flinging him backward into another wall of stone. He hit the ground and didn’t move.

“Hector!” Adira sprang forward, but a large red spike shot up in front of her. She froze, eyes wide, before closing her eyes and moving to go around it. Her momentary distraction had cost her, though, and a pink bomb ensnared her foot. Breathing heavily, she brought the edge of her sword toward her ankle, but another rock struck it from her hand.

Quirin approached slowly—not in the way one approached when scared or intimidated, but like a stalking cat about to strike. He lifted his sword. “That was a mistake.”

“And who’s going to make me pay? You?”

He swung his blade, and she caught it with the edge of hers. He locked them the way Adira had. “Stand down, Cassandra. This isn’t right, and it’s not you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you any more than I want to hurt Varian,” she pleaded. “Don’t make me do this.”

“You’re a grown woman. No one’s making you do anything.” He pressed harder against her sword. “You know this is wrong. Bartholomew raised you to know right from wrong. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

Her eyes widened, and she took a shaky breath, stepping away from him and letting the lock break as she bowed her head.

He lowered his sword.

Her head snapped back up, eyes narrowed and glittering with fury, and she shoved her hand forward, a sharp blade springing from her wrist to stab him in the stomach. Then she shoved another blunt rock at him, flinging him away the same as she had done to Hector. Something snapped sharply at the contact. Quirin hit the ground, groaning in pain.

“Dad!” Varian ran to his side, turning him over so he could see the wound. Quirin grunted at the motion but drew his hand away from his side so Varian could see. “Oh, that’s— a lot of blood,” he mumbled.

“Not deep,” Quirin ground out. “Cra—hng. Cracked ribs. Can’t tell how many.” 

Cassandra picked up another vial from Varian’s bag. She strode over to Hector, who had started to push himself up, shaking his head blearily. He growled when he saw her, trying to rise, but a sharp kick to his side sent him back down again. Cassandra sneered down at him, lifting the vial. From this angle, Varian could see the achingly familiar amber. He shoved himself to his feet, sprinting toward her, but a wall of rocks cut him off, surrounding him and Quirin. He slammed into the barrier, fingers wrapping desperately around the makeshift bars. “Cass, don’t!”

She paused, a flicker of regret crossing her face. Then it was gone, as quickly as it had come, and she tilted the vial to pour the compound onto the rocks beside Hector. 

Hector spat on the ground, blood dripping from his lips as he pushed himself toward Cassandra. The solution sank into the rocks, crystalline tentacles springing up in its place and lashing onto Hector’s left arm. 

“No!” Varian slammed his fist against the bars. “Cass, please! Let him go!”

She stepped away from Hector, moving closer to Varian’s cage. “You know how to make this stop.”

“Please, don’t do this!”

“Tick, tock. If it makes you feel any better, he’ll probably live. Quirin did, at least.”

“Cass,” he whispered, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

Hector groaned, shoving himself up with his good arm. “Don’t do it, kid. Ain’t worth it.” Near him, Adira stretched her hand out, reaching for the hilt of her blade. It sat just out of reach.

“Your choice, kid. Are you really going to let him suffer just to spite me?”

“Varian, don’t,” Quirin warned.

He sank to his knees, still clinging to the bar. “I— I can’t—”

“Fine. Call me if you change your mind.” She turned and started for the doorway.

As the amber crawled from Hector’s arm to his bruised torso, he hissed in pain. Varian shut his eyes tightly, scrubbing his wrist across his face. “Wait!”

She paused, turning to look at him.

“Varian, don’t,” Hector pleaded. “Not for me. I’m fine.”

Cassandra stepped closer, letting her hand rest over Varian’s curled fingers. “What’s the incantation?”

His breath hitched as he spoke. “C-Crescent high above…” Word by painful word, he forced the rhyme from his lips, steadily avoiding making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t want to see the look of disappointment they would have.

When he had finished the recitation, he slumped weakly against the bars. “Let him go.”

“Just a moment,” she answered smugly. “We have to make sure you didn’t lie to me, don’t we? After all, I can’t trust you to tell me the truth.” She stepped away from them, raising her arms by her sides and throwing her head back.

Then she began to chant.

The rocks grew around her, forming solid walls and a foundation. The room shook, cracks rending what was left of the Tree as the rocks pushed their way upward, molding together to encase the structure. A great rumbling and groaning filled the air as wood, stone, and bricks clattered against each other, the canted trunk of the once-stately haven of knowledge and security lifting from the crest of the mountains to stand upright. Blue light sparked and flickered around her fingertips as she gestured and directed her stolen power, violating the tortured corpse of their former home with her pervasive influence. A skeleton dressed in armor, sharp and vicious, the Great Tree now stood dark against the skyline, a warped and twisted mimicry of its former glory. 

Cassandra exhaled, head still leaned back. “Wow,” she rasped. “So that’s what I was missing.”

Hector yanked at his arm, letting out a string of Spanish and Russian mixed together. From Quirin’s furrowed brow, it was nothing polite, but no one was about to call him out on it after what they’d just seen.

“Cassandra,” Varian pleaded. “Let him go. Please, I did what you asked! Just set him free!”

She stared down at her fingertips, flexing them. Then she looked back at Varian. Then at Hector, still struggling to free himself. “No.”

“Wh–What?”

She stretched her shoulders languidly. “No. I’m sick of him interfering.”

“You— you said—”

“I lied.” She rolled her eyes, almost bored. “Now sit tight. I’ll come back to get you if I need you.” She picked up Quirin and Adira’s swords, then grabbed Varian’s bag and slung it over her shoulder. Digging through it with one hand, she picked up one more small vial, setting it down just outside Varian’s cage. Then, moving further away from the Brotherhood, she waved her hand once more, forming a web-like wall that split the room in half with her on one side and them on the other. Another gesture broke the wall keeping Varian and Quirin separated from the others. “I’ll bring back some medical supplies,” she offered in a softer tone. “I really didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Then she was gone, leaving them trapped in their cell.

Varian snatched up the vial she had left behind. It was the neutralizing particle. He stood on shaky legs and ran to Adira, still not meeting her eyes. Dropping the particle onto her trapped foot, he turned and knelt down next to Hector. Tears clouded his vision to the point where the growing amber was nothing more than an orange blur.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean— I’m sorry!”

“Kid.” Hector’s hand closed around his. “Varian, it’s okay.”

“You told me not to and I didn’t listen— I did this! I’ve ruined everything!”

“No.” Hector’s voice grew strained. “Ain’t your fault, mijo . She did this. Now I need you to back up.”

“I— I can’t leave you! I’ll fix this!” He looked around the room, brushing his tears away again as he searched for anything he could use. “There has to be something! I can’t let you go!”

“Kid, you need to move—”

“I have to fix this!” He slammed his fists against the ground. “I can’t lose you, too!”

Hector gave a low growl. “Adira, get him.”

A hand grabbed his arm, tugging him to his feet lightly. He struggled against Adira’s grip. “No, let me go! I can fix this! I won’t let this happen again!”

Adira grimaced, readjusting her grip. Varian stopped thrashing as she drew him into a hug from behind. “It’s okay, malysh,” she cajoled, arms wrapped around his torso. “You didn’t do this.”

He stopped struggling, giving her the freedom to let go of him. She backed away, but stayed close enough to grab him again if she needed to. Quirin’s hand settled on his shoulder. Varian turned and buried his face in the side of his shirt that wasn’t covered in blood, mindful of his broken ribs. “I have to fix this,” he sobbed. “Please.”

“It’s okay,” Quirin whispered. “He’ll be okay. It doesn’t even hurt.”

He sniffed and clung tighter to the fabric. “Really?”

“It’s like going to sleep. He’ll wake up bone-tired, but he’ll be okay.”

Hector gave a broken laugh. “Two down, one to go. Watch your back, Adira.”

“You should’ve watched yours, idiot,” she answered, turning her head aside to hide the way she blinked against the sheen in her eyes. “We’ll get you out.”

“Right.” He gave a shrug with his one free shoulder. “Could use a nap, anyway.”

Quirin sank to the ground, Varian in his arms. “Don’t look, son.” Obediently, Varian kept his face turned toward Quirin, though that didn’t block out the noise of the steadily-growing crystal, nor of Hector’s occasional abridged gasp of pain as his injuries were jostled.

And it couldn’t stop him from hearing when the noise ceased.

Quirin’s grip on him tightened. Adira sat beside them, holding herself stiffly as she slipped into a semi-meditative state. Varian didn’t lift his head, keeping his eyes closed and his face buried in Quirin’s shirt as the last remnants of sunlight slipped away and their cage was plunged into darkness.

Chapter Text

“I did try to warn you, Varian.”

Varian jolted with a gasp, his heart racing with the sensation of falling and being cut short. He’d been on the verge of falling asleep, his eyes burning with no tears left to shed, when his chest had lurched and shaken him awake. Cursing the sensation, he turned his head from where it rested against one of his bags. The source of the smoothly accented voice stood on the other side of the bars, shaking her head in disapproval.

She hadn’t changed since he last saw her, her braided hair still twisted in a bun and her vine tattoos curling across her translucent skin. Worse, the symbol of the Brotherhood still mocked him from the back of her hand, which now draped gracefully through a gap in the cell wall.

“Zhan Tiri,” he greeted coldly. Pushing himself to a seated position, he crossed his arms. “Didn’t think you’d show your lousy face.”

“Hm. Someone’s been learning their manners— or lack thereof— from a certain knight. One would think you’d be more polite in your position.”

“I have nothing to say to you. Especially not something nice. If you’re looking for someone to kiss your—” He darted a glance over to his sleeping father— “If you’re looking for someone to give empty compliments, go talk to your pawn.”

Zhan Tiri sighed. “I’m not here to banter, although I haven’t seen a mind as sharp as yours since my old friend. No, there will be time for that later. I… came to check on you.”

He scoffed. “Bullcrap. You’re the reason we’re stuck in here. How are you here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be stuck in another dimension?”

“Oh, I am. But every so often, our realms brush up against each other. My power is stronger in places like the House of Yesterday’s Tomorrow. And here, where the waking world meets the slumbering one. You’re still asleep, my dear. And in your rest, you draw a little closer to where I’m imprisoned.” Her fingers tightened on the bars. “We have that much in common, at least. We’re both prisoners longing to be free.”

“I’m— dreaming? This doesn’t feel like a dream.”

“It’s a dream. I didn’t want to startle you by waking you up somewhere you weren’t familiar with. But look.” She gestured behind him. Varian didn’t turn his head, exhaling heavily at the reminder of his mistake. She raised an eyebrow sharply. “A little trust would help. Don’t worry. Look.”

Reluctantly, Varian glanced behind him. The stone room was empty, no amber cell keeping Hector trapped.

“No sense in making this more painful than it needs to be, hmm? I’m afraid he’s still there in your world. But for now, we can talk without that little distraction. But if you’d rather I move us somewhere else—” She waved her hand, and the cell disappeared, along with Quirin and Adira’s forms. As the room reformed around them, Varian curled in on himself, reaching to his side for his dagger that Cassandra hadn’t taken. Moon and stars, he hated magic.

They stood now in the center of a circular sitting room, several doors branching away to private suites. A desk sat underneath a window, a dark ink stain spreading across its surface from an overturned well. The walls were lined with bookshelves, titles of battle strategy and social etiquette.

“I’ve never been here,” Zhan Tiri said. “Forgive me for using your memories, but I thought you might like to chat somewhere a little more pleasant.” She settled on one of the couches and waved him toward another one.

He eyeballed the other couch, noting how it sat canted to her left— which would put her on his right. He opted to stand. “I told you. I have nothing to say to you.”

She sighed. “My dear child, I’m sure you blame me for your misfortunes, but I did everything I could to help you. I warned you. Hector couldn’t protect you. If you don’t protect yourself, who will?”

“He’s—”

“You returned to Corona. You saw only a fraction of Corona’s military might. You were tricked into a fight you weren’t ready for. And you fought admirably, malen’kiy rytsar’. But it wasn’t fair for you to be placed in that position.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“And now you’re at the mercy of Cassandra. A Coronan. As much as she tries to reject her heritage, she is a soldier and the child of a soldier. And now you’re here behind bars, again. You swear allegiance to an oath that was broken before you even made it. You fight with one hand that you bound behind your back yourself. You’ve imprisoned yourself.”

“What do you want?” Varian snapped. “You didn’t come here just to tell me everything I did wrong. You always want something.”

Her gaze grew cold. “Do not pretend to know me, child. You may have read what your hero Demanitus wrote about me, but you do not know me. I have seen a thousand noble souls like yours be crushed beneath the weight of expectations. I have seen ten thousand children betrayed and left to starve. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall and be lost to the passing of time. Death comes for all alike, whether its visit is announced with heralds or with the softest cries of a broken family. I watched you cry alone beside your father’s body, without a soul to comfort you. So no. You do not know me. What I want is beyond your comprehending.” She stood, towering over Varian, and he fought the urge to back away. “How could you possibly know me when you don’t even know who you are?”

Varian’s eyes widened. His shoulders curled upward. “I— I know who I am!”

“I don’t think you do. Who are you, Varian? An alchemist? Tell me truthfully: when is the last time you thought of yourself with that word?”

The last time— Varian bit his lip, averting his gaze. He hadn’t considered himself an alchemist since before his fifteenth birthday. Almost a year ago now. Even though he’d used alchemy back in Corona, even though he’d used it to defend himself a week ago. And now, with what he’d done to Hector, could he ever call himself that again?

“A knight, then?” Zhan Tiri continued. “Sworn to whom? A king you don’t know and don’t trust? A kingdom you only just visited? A brotherhood whose mission is of no effect? Or perhaps you consider yourself a survivor. You escaped one prison, and now you find yourself locked up again. A son? Torn between two fathers, one whom you’ve disappointed countless times and the other whose faith in you led him to his doom, both of whom you’ve now hurt in the same way.”

“Stop it.”

“Who are you, Varian? What is it that you want?”

“Why are you doing this?”

She leaned closer. “Answer me. What do you want?”

“I— I want to save him! Please, I just want to fix this. I have to fix this!”

She stared him down for another long moment. Then, seemingly satisfied with whatever she saw, she nodded and stepped away from him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah— obviously!”

“Manners, dear.” She sat back down, leaning against the back of the couch in a way that would seem almost casual if she didn’t look so much like a snake preparing to strike. “Can you handle the consequences of that decision?”

“What do you mean ‘consequences’? I can’t leave him there! How do I free him?”

“Very well.” She sighed and leaned her head back. “A riddle, then. ‘Only by sun can moon be undone. Use the sun to see the sun.’”

“What? What does that even mean? I don’t need a riddle; I need an answer.”

She surveyed him sharply. “You’re the genius, aren’t you? Figure it out. It’s one of Demanitus’ little ideas, if that helps any.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

“That wouldn’t be very sportsmanlike, would it? Cassandra is, as you phrased it, my pawn. I want to help you, Varian, but I have my own interests to consider. In this, at least, we have a common goal. We both need you to free Hector.”

Varian bristled. “What do you want with him?”

“Him? Nothing. If it’s any consolation to you, your dear uncle means nothing to me. But you, Varian… it’s currently in my interest to help you. I told you already. I’m trying to help.”

“Could be a little more helpful,” he grumbled. “Fine. ‘Use the sun to see the sun’ or whatever. Are we done here?”

“A little gratitude would be nice.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Thank you for that obscure and entirely unhelpful piece of advice.”

She sighed. “Children these days. Very well. We’ll speak again soon.” She waved her hand, and the room faded away. The last thing Varian saw before darkness claimed him was her sharp, calculating gaze.

O‴O‴O‴

“’Use the sun to see the sun,’” Varian muttered mockingly as he paced around the cell. “Yeah, makes perfect sense. The only thing I’ll get if I look at the stupid sun is a stupid headache. Besides, it’s not even up yet.”

“Maybe it means Rapunzel,” Adira offered. “She could melt this one the same way she did to the last one.”

Varian hummed thoughtfully. While he hadn’t told his family the rest of his dream, he’d given them the cryptic riddle, implying he’d found it in Demanitus’ writing and had gotten an idea about it while he slept. “Maybe. Still seems dangerous. But even if it did mean her, she’s out there, and we’re in here.”

“If we can alert Artemis, we could use her to carry a message to Corona,” Quirin suggested. “She’ll know something is wrong because of the Tree. I’m sure she’s already looking for us.”

“She’s already found us,” Adira said. “Flew by while you were both asleep. I sent her to scout around the Tree for any weaknesses. She’ll stay out of sight and out of reach,” she amended before Varian could tell her off for that risky plan.

Quirin nodded. “Good. We’ll send a message with her. We need to alert the princess to this new development.

Varian scoffed softly. “New development” was such a gentle way of phrasing his colossal mistake. He winced as he caught a glimpse of amber from the corner of his eye. Turning his back on it, he paced around the cell.

“We have paper still,” Adira continued. “I didn’t know what all we needed to tell her. I’m… not always the most forthcoming. Varian, you should— if you could—”

“I can do it,” he answered softly. He’d gotten used to a cold, clinical way of speaking to and about Rapunzel, and despite the strides they were making in their… acquaintanceship? Post-frenemy-ship? It was easy still for him to fall back on that when he couldn’t trust his own head or heart. Rapunzel didn’t need a message filled with Adira’s anger or Quirin’s grief, and neither of them were likely to tell her everything she needed, too used to keeping their information to themselves in a bid for control.

He scratched out a quick letter. Relevant information only: Cassandra’s new ability, that Hector was currently incapacitated, their location and current condition, that Cassandra had his alchemy bag. When he was done, he tied the paper with a string. “We need to call Artemis. I wonder if we have anything that can get her attention.” He grabbed his travel bag, which was unfortunately missing a few weapons, and started digging through it. “Hm, don’t have any—” Cutting himself short with a gasp, he drew a thin strip of leather from the bag. “King Edmund’s silk nightshirt. I forgot we had this.”

“What is that?” Adira demanded, hiding a small smile at his choice of expletive. Quirin massaged his forehead but didn’t say anything.

“Magic collar. Ugh, moon and stars, I hate saying that. Collar of some technology I don’t understand yet.”

“You still won’t admit magic is real?”

“It’s just stuff I haven’t figured out.”

She hummed. “I saw Hector with that. At the House of Yesterday’s Tomorrow.”

“Yeah. I only wore it once, and it… well, it was not a fun time for me. But he was able to wear it without getting caught by the dream spell crap. Maybe it broke when he took it off me? Or was it two different spells? Or was he under a spell and just didn’t realize—”

“Focus, malysh. If you wear it, can you get out of this cell?”

Varian gasped Of course! How could he have forgotten? The tool for their escape had been sitting in his bag the whole time. “I’m a good bit smaller than him, especially with this. I can probably get through the bars. If it works, I’ll pass it back, and you can get through with it.”

Adira and Quirin shared a knowing glance. “Okay,” Quirin answered. “Get out of here and go find Artemis. Get her the note and have her take it to Rapunzel. Then use it to get out of the Tree.”

Varian nodded. “Um… promise not to— to freak out? Or do anything particularly embarrassing?”

“How bad could it be?”

Adira snickered. “Hector told me about it. I’d give my left kidney to have been there. But this is just as good, I suppose.”

Varian sighed and let the leather rest around his neck. Just leather, not metal, with a latch that Quirin could easily undo for him. “Here goes nothing.”

He clicked the latch shut and winced at the instant bite of magic that rushed through him. Less painful than before, it still didn’t make being contorted into the body of a cat any less weird. When he hit the stone ground, catching himself with his paws, he took several deep breaths— or as deep as he could, with lungs the size of a walnut—before opening his eyes.

“King Edmund’s silk nightshirt,” Quirin breathed quietly. “That’s…”

“Nichego sebe,” Adira gasped. “Hector understated how adorable that is.”

Varian gave an unhappy mewl, baring his tiny fangs in a nonthreatening warning. Fortunately both his dad and aunt had enough self-restraint not to pet him, though from their strained expressions, it was taking every ounce of their knightly training to keep from doing so.

Turning to the cage wall, Varian slipped easily between the now-large gaps. On the other side, he batted at the collar with one front paw. Quirin reached through the rocks and unlatched it, letting it fall to the ground as Varian straightened up.

“We never speak of this again,” Varian threatened. “And we don’t tell Hector.”

Adira’s eyes glittered with amusement. “He’ll be devastated to miss this, but what he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

He picked up the collar, holding it out through the bars. “Here, your turn.”

They shared another look, one of those adultish “we know something you don’t” looks that irritated Varian to no end.

“Varian—” Quirin sighed. “We won’t be able to make it out.”

“What?” A cold dread settled in his stomach. “Why not?”

Adira smiled sadly. “Hector was a lot larger than you, and you weren’t even able to get through the bars as a human. I doubt we’d be any smaller than you, even with that.”

Varian froze. Of all the stupid, idiotic— Smacking his forehead, he grumbled to himself, “So dumb. Should’ve guessed.” He deflated, leaning against the cage. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I missed something so obvious! We’ll think of another way—”

“We will,” Quirin agreed, “but not right now. You need to leave.” He picked up the note and held it out through the bars. “Go find Artemis and the rest of our animals. Get as far away from here as you can.”

“I can’t leave you!” He grabbed Quirin’s hand, clinging to it as if that could change their positions on either side of the bars. “Don’t ask me to do that!”

“Varian.” Quirin reached out his other hand, cupping Varian’s face. “Son, we don’t have time. Cassandra could come back any minute, and you need to be far away from here when she does. Adira and I will be fine. I need to know you’ll be far away from here.” His thumb brushed away the lone tear that broke from Varian’s eye. “We can cover for you for a while. Go now, quickly.”

“I—” His words caught in his throat. “Dad, please. I left you last time, and it was the worst mistake of my life.”

“This isn’t the same, son. This isn’t a snowstorm I can shelter you from. If Cassandra catches you out there, I can’t protect you.”

“Then I’ll stay in here! I’ll put it back on—” He started to bring the collar back to his throat, but Quirin’s other hand held him in place. “Let me go! If I leave, who knows what she’ll do to you?”

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Adira answered with a confident wink. “Give us some credit. Now that we know what to expect from her, she’s lost her advantage.”

“It’s too risky!”

“So is you staying here,” Quirin said gruffly, hand tightening around Varian’s fingers. “I won’t have you caged again. Not by the likes of her or anyone. Leave, son.”

Varian blinked back tears. “Dad…”

Quirin tugged him forward slightly, letting their foreheads rest together. “I need you to trust me, son. I’m trusting you to go alone. I love you, Varian, and I’m so proud of you. More than I know how to say. Now go!”

He let go of Varian’s hands, pushing him away gently. Varian backed up, each step away from Quirin feeling like another betrayal, another failure. Like he was fourteen again, running out into a snowstorm while his father’s desperate voice echoed through the confining walls of the lab, begging him not to go.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’ll come back. I’m gonna go get help.”

“I know,” Quirin said, his smile not reaching his eyes. “I love you.”

“Elyssen m’ amveth.”

Stepping away from the cell, he clutched the note tightly in cold fingers and started running.

O‴O‴O‴

Keeping to the outskirts of the Tree, where the malignant energy felt weaker and more of the Tree’s broken body was allowed to exist outside of the rock armor that encased it, Varian crept through the halls, glancing from every rare window he came across. Though he knew Quirin and Adira had deceived him with their “plan,” he still had to find Artemis. Easing his grip on the paper so it didn’t rip, he hurried with bated breath, taking each corner slowly with one hand on his dagger. What good it would do against Cassandra, he couldn’t say, but the familiar grip under his hand helped to slow his racing heart.

Eventually his wandering took him to a larger room, the sunlight streaming from bigger windows than he’d seen before and alighting upon a cluster of rocks up against the wall, framed by torches bearing an unearthly blue fire. He stepped closer, eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to inspect the shape.

Recoiling, he brought a hand up to his throat, every nerve in his body flared in warning. It was a throne, sharp and jagged and uneven, with a circle of rocks surrounding it in some sort of mockery of an honor guard.

She had built herself a throne.

In his house.

Seething, Varian stormed closer, studying the structure more carefully. A far cry from the gilded seat of Coronan power that housed the royal posterior’s royal posterior, it was nonetheless an impressive display of her new ability. The rest of the room had also been decorated to reflect her wishes: pillars stretched from the throne to the gaping hole that took the place of a door, and the throne itself sat on a raised dais. Blue fire encircled the base of the pillars, casting eerie shadows along the floor. The ceiling arched high overhead, a veritable stained-glass dome of blue in a sunburst pattern.

Varian scoffed. If she was planning to throw her grand rebellion from all the way out here, she was in for one insufferably long commute.

A low cry from one peaked window drew his attention to the hawk who sat perched on the frame. “Artemis!”

She flapped her wings indignantly, dark eyes glowing an unsettling blue in the reflection of the firelight. Varian ran to her, stroking one hand over her feathered head. “I’m glad you’re okay. What about the others? Are they safe?”

She gave a firm nod, tucking her wings.

“Good.” He held up the note and tied it to her leg. “I need you to take this to Corona, to the princess. As quick as you can!”

She gave him a knowing stare, then brushed her head up against his hand. Extending her wings, she hopped off the sill, taking to the sky.

Varian exhaled, leaning against the wall and brushing the back of his hand against his forehead. One problem down. With any luck, Rapunzel would be here within a day or two to free his family.

Stone echoed on stone, footsteps ringing through the halls and growing louder as they approached the throne room. Varian tensed, grabbing the collar and snapping it back on. Ducking behind a pillar, as close as he could to its bulk without getting burnt by the flames, he curled in on himself as Cassandra strode into the room, black cloak billowing around her ankles. She pulled her spiked helmet from her head, holding it tightly in front of her.

He drew further into the shadows between the pillar and the wall, blinking as his vision adjusted to his new heightened senses. Like the first time he’d undergone this transformation, his night vision cast a sharp contrast with the lack of sight on his right side. A bit disorienting, but nothing that would stop him from getting out as quickly as he could.

He froze as Cassandra paused and looked around the room. “I know you’re here,” she said, as cooly as if she were remarking on the weather. “Enough games.”

When she started walking again, Varian crept the opposite direction, toward the doorway. He made it another two pillars down before a circle of rocks rose around him, effectively caging him again. With a sharp cry, he extended his claws and scratched at the barrier, wincing when it did no good.

Her footsteps drew closer, and the cage slid back down into the floor as one gloved hand reached down to snag him by the scruff of the neck. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she snarked, holding him up at eye level. “Should’ve known you’d have another trick to try. After all your little surprises in Old Corona, I’m not sure why I’m still shocked.”

With a hiss, he lashed out at her, claws grazing against her chin. She yelped and dropped him. “You— you little cat-sìth! You’ll regret that.”

He landed on all fours and lost no time in sprinting toward the door. Another wall of rocks sprang up to block his path. Cassandra grabbed him again, ripping the collar off and tossing it aside. Throwing Varian up against one of the pillars, the flames receding before his feet, she slammed a fist into the rocks above his head. “For someone so smart, how are you so stupid?”

He flinched away, forcing himself to stand still instead of running again. “Listen, I know this looks bad—”

“Looks bad?” she scoffed. “What are you doing sneaking around up here, anyway? You could’ve escaped. What’s your trick this time? Looking for your little friends?”

Varian inhaled sharply—and immediately regretted it, as Cassandra’s eyes widened. “You—” Her gaze turned to the window, where Artemis’ form could still be seen, silhouetted against the sunlight. Letting go of Varian, Cassandra stormed over to the opening, thrusting one hand forward.

“No!” Varian lunged forward, grabbing for Cassandra’s wrist. Far away, from among the trees and rocks that made up Hector’s territory in the shade of his home, a series of thick rocks shot up into the air toward Artemis. She pivoted quickly, ducking and weaving through the spikes. One clipped the edge of her wing. She stumbled in her flight path, righting herself quickly, though she listed to her side again immediately after. Varian watched in horror as she faltered, her small body tumbling down to disappear beneath the canopy.

Then Cassandra whirled on him, yanking her wrist away from his grasp.

“I try and I try,” she hissed. “Are you happy now? Do you enjoy pushing me to this point?”

“Cassandra—”

“I told you to stay put. That’s not that hard. But no, you just had to play the hero! When other people get hurt because of you, will you be happy then? When Rapunzel and her little minions get hurt, will that be enough for you?”

“You’re the one hurting people!” he snapped, backing away from her. Reluctantly he tore his gaze from the window. Was Artemis okay? Had she landed safely? “You were gonna hurt Rapunzel anyway. I never asked to play the hero! But you’re the one who decided to be a villain!”

Her eyes narrowed. “Villain? Is that what you think I am? Or do you think that because that’s what they called you? We’re more alike than you think. You did what you had to. Difference is, you lost.”

“I am nothing like you.” His fingers curled into fists. “I would never do this.”

“Because you thought too small. I don’t blame you for that; you were a child. It takes a soldier to think through a war, and you’re not a soldier. I’m thinking bigger, though. This is a war, like it or not. You may deny it, but we both chose this path for the same reason. There’s things we want to see avenged. Justice that needs to be served. I’m no longer held back by the chains of Coronan oppression. If I have to tear down their castle with my own hands, I’ll do it.” She leaned closer. “And I won’t lose. Not like you. I won’t lose this war, and I won’t lose a single night’s sleep over it.”

He scowled. “Those eyebags beg to differ.”

She straightened up, surveying him with a cold eye— a soldier’s analytical gaze. “You’ve always had a sharp tongue. But you still won’t use it for good. Those people need someone like you, Varian. And here you are, turning your back on them again. Every day, Coronans die under an oppressive tyrant. Love them or hate them, but do they really deserve your indifference? Your apathy?”

“I tried! I tried to warn them! I was the only person trying to do anything about the king’s mess. I was a child, Cassandra! It wasn’t my job! I don’t owe them anything. But if you go down this path, then there’s no turning back. You don’t think you’re losing? You’re so blind, you don’t even see what you’ve already lost!”

“I haven’t—”

“Where’s your owl?”

Cassandra stumbled back. “What?”

Varian stepped forward, keeping the same distance to her. “Where’s your owl? How long has it been since you’ve seen him? Or your horse? When’s the last time you talked to your dad? Do you even know if he’s okay?”

“Stop it.”

“You’re already losing, Cassandra. And you keep trying to justify your losses. If you keep going, you’ll lose everything you have left. You’ve already lost your friends and family. Are you going to keep going until you lose your life? Or just until you lose your freedom and end up locked in a cell?”

“Enough!” She grabbed his wrist, spinning on her heel and dragging him along through the door and into the hall. “We both made sacrifices, Varian. I won’t let those sacrifices be for nothing. You’ll understand one day, but I won’t let you get in my way until then.”

Her grip tightened around his wrist, sharp and cutting. He stopped breathing—it was too cold, too hard, unyielding as metal and just as unforgiving. “Cass!”

Where before the name might have given her pause, have caused her to loosen her grip, she forged on instead, just as unyielding as her stone gloves. Varian yanked against her arm, not expecting much; when she suddenly released him, he stumbled back, nearly tripping into the wall. Cassandra clutched her arm to her chest, wincing.

Varian frowned, fighting back against the small part of him that itched to get closer to her and check her arm for injuries. While Adira had been teaching him about her remedies, he was certainly no medic, and he owed Cassandra nothing. But still… “Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing,” she bit out, smoothing out her features quickly, though she didn’t let go of her arm. Her right arm.

“That’s… is that the one Hector broke? Does it still hurt?”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “Does it matter?”

He glared at her, crossing his arms. “I told you last time. You tend to take your bad moods out on me. Or my family. So yeah. Are you okay?”

She sighed, stepping further away to give him some space. “It’s fine. Still just hurts sometimes. The armor acts as a cast for it. It’s not… healed, but it’s better.” She gave him a skeptical side-eye. “Why do you care? And don’t say it’s because you want to keep me happy or whatever, because you’ve been ticking me off since we ran into each other.”

“You mean since you kidnapped me? The first time?” He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall. “I know what a broken arm feels like. It’s not fun. I don’t hurt people anymore. I’m trying to be better. Learn how to help others instead of just taking from them.”

Her gaze softened. “Varian… you might have been forced to play the villain, but you were never a bad person.”

He scoffed. “I tried to kill people. I knew what I was doing. So do you.” With a wry smile, he offered, “Someone gave me a second chance. I guess maybe I thought you deserved one, too. But I’m running out of chances to give, so I need you to figure this out, fast.”

He straightened up and started walking. When Cassandra didn’t move immediately to follow him, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Are you gonna let me back into my cell, or are you gonna give me that collar back so I can do it myself?”

“Didn’t think you’d walk into a cell willingly.”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I? I’m not getting out of this Tree without your permission. Besides, it’s still way better than my last one.”

He hated that he couldn’t read what was going on behind her unnatural blue eyes. This Cassandra unnerved him in a way the brash, outgoing captain’s daughter hadn’t. She nodded slowly and started down the hall with a sharp gesture for him to follow. He obeyed, letting her lead the way through halls he no longer recognized. When they finally reached the room that held their cage, she waved him forward. Adira and Quirin jumped to their feet, posture tense and ready to strike. Varian kept his eyes on the ground, not yet ready to see the disappointment he was sure that Quirin’s eyes reflected.

Cassandra waved her hand, letting the bars retreat enough for him to walk back inside. He bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood but stepped through the opening. Quirin grabbed him, pulling him behind him and planting his large body as a wall between him and Cassandra.

“I’ll bring food and water in a few hours,” she told them, closing the gap. “Varian…”

He turned away from her, pacing over to the amber structure and sitting down beside it. Beside Hector, just a foot away and unable to be touched.

“You’ll understand one day.” Her voice was soft and pleading, a far cry from the cold stone and icy eyes.

Turning his head to look at her over his shoulder, he hissed, “No, I don’t think I will.”

She sighed but left without another word.

“Varian?” Quirin knelt down beside him, moving slowly and carefully as he reached up a hand to touch Varian’s shoulder. Varian reluctantly looked up at him, bracing himself for the inevitable weight of Quirin’s gaze. But instead of the worn lines and furrowed brow, he found worry and concern and love. “Son, are you hurt?”

Varian shook his head. Leaning to the side, he rested his head against Quirin’s arm. “Sorry, Dad.”

“No. I’m sorry. We’ll think of something else.”

It was easier, he thought bitterly, to handle Quirin’s disappointment. It was easier to feel the weight of his failure, to know where he stood with his father: still loved, always loved, that was never in doubt; but to be a mess that needed to be dealt with. To fail over and over and over again, to understand his faults and try to make things right. But this version of Quirin, who gave him one job and had to watch his son mess it up but didn’t seem to care about that, who didn’t care that Varian had lost their only method of escape, who looked at him with so much warmth and concern— this Quirin was harder to understand. Harder to fit into the equation.

“What happened, son?” Quirin pleaded. “Tell me what happened. Tell me how I can fix this.”

Varian shook his head. “She— Artemis is hurt. I got her the note. But… the rocks. She went down. I don’t know if she’s okay.”

“We’ll find her. As soon as we’re free, we’ll look for her.”

“We’re not getting free,” he laughed dryly. “We’re out of options. That was our last hope.”

Quirin wrapped one arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to his side. “I don’t believe that. I won’t. There is always hope.”

Varian shrugged, leaning into him. “Well, when you find it, let me know.”

“I will,” Quirin answered, a cord of determination wrapped around his words, thick enough to tether Varian to his conviction. This Quirin, he understood slightly better. This was Quirin the leader, the strategist. The one who stood before kings and lied through a smile, who put his people first and shielded them from the tyranny of a corrupt monarch.

Reaching for his travel bag laying nearby, Varian grabbed some papers out of it. “Well. As long as we’re waiting on hope and food, I guess I can get some work done.”

“That sounds like a plan. Adira, care to meditate with me?”

“Well,” she answered with a wry smile, “I think I can make some time in my schedule.”

They set to work, Varian to his papers and Quirin and Adira to their meditation. Every so often, Varian looked up to check on them, noting the way the ever-present tension bled from their shoulders and from the lines on their foreheads. How they could have hope in a prison like this, he didn’t quite understand; but then, their strength always seemed more apparent, more present, when things went wrong. When they faced a madman in charge of an army, when they defended a village against bandits. Neither of them could be okay with what was happening, especially this close to their brother’s encased body—he wasn’t dead, couldn’t be dead, not when Quirin had survived, but at least Varian was used to being trapped in a room with someone he couldn’t reach—but still they hoped. Still they meditated through their grief and anger. Still they waited, alert, prepared to act the second they saw their chance.

Well. If they were so determined to hold on to hope, then Varian would find a way to give them their chance. He would use his fragile connection to Cassandra, her desire to recruit him and her reluctance to hurt him, to his advantage. If she refused to take the chances she had been offered, then he would lie and manipulate and use every skill he had learned. He would learn everything there was to know about the Moonstone and the Sundrop. Knowledge would be his weapon and his scrolls would be his sharpening stone.

And he would prove her wrong. Her and Zhan Tiri both. His allegiance would not be his downfall. This time, he wouldn’t lose.

He couldn’t. Not again. For their sakes, for Hector, for Artemis.

The sun rose over the mountain at long last, piercing through the shadows that clung to the room like smoke, a golden wave carrying the air of morning into their prison. It shone through the crystal, sending its beams scattering about to dance over the floor and over the scroll in Varian’s hands.

Chapter Text

As far as prison cells went, he’d been in worse.

Amber monolith right behind him excepting.

The passing of time was measurable, at least, thanks to the window and the fact that Cassandra brought them food at regular intervals. And she somehow managed to take time out of her nefarious scheming to allow them outside once per day (individually and under guard) for up to an hour each in an enclosed space she’d set up.

It was still, however, a prison cell.

Twenty steps to pace along the width, and forty steps to pace along the length. The cell wall was made of five hundred and forty-seven individual rock bars. With the way it faced the mountains, they got exactly twenty-three minutes of direct sunlight per day. Varian spent his boundless free time working over the scrolls—and then reading and rereading and rereading and rereading them again, with nothing better to do. In between reading, he worked out with Adira (Quirin had been forbidden from working out until his bandaged ribs set), although she cautioned him to be mindful of his limitations, as even the food they were able to receive wasn’t enough to provide all the nutrients they should have had.

Cassandra herself didn’t seem to be getting enough, either, as she had gone even paler and her eyebags far darker. When Varian had asked, she’d answered that she wasn’t ready to leave the Tree— so their meals came from what she could forage and hunt.

The day after that conversation, Varian stretched out against a (thankfully natural) rock in their enclosure, letting the sun soak into his skin. Up in the mountains, it was far colder than he was used to, eliciting a deep ache in some of his older injuries, and the limited sunlight he received helped to ease some of that pain. He’d spent the first few times outside exploring the moderate space that Cassandra had established in a hollow in the mountains, encircled with a high rock wall. After that, he’d elected to spend his time in the open areas; though he longed for privacy, he also dreaded the sensation of being hunted. Staying where he could see her allowed him the illusion of control.

And an illusion it was. Nothing about this scenario was within his control.

Idly, he ran his fingers over the leaves of a violet bush. Pushing himself up, he plucked a few of the flowers and nibbled on the petals. They weren’t quite right for the season, but they were edible. He unhooked his cloak, laying it flat on the ground and putting a few more of the flowers in it. Off to the side, Cassandra canted her head, watching noiselessly.

He searched around the edges of the trees, plucking off a few mushrooms and adding them to his pile. Dandelions and chickweed joined the fray. When he reached for a bush laden with berries, though, Cassandra hissed. “Those are poisonous,” she chided.

“Nope.” He plucked a few off. “Aunt Adira taught me how to tell the difference.” He added them to the stash and picked up the cloak, wrapping his finds up carefully. Then he sat down next to Cassandra, offering her a handful of berries. She took them but hesitated, giving him a sharp side-eye. He rolled his eyes and ate a small handful himself. “C’mon, I’m not gonna poison you.”

That would be counterproductive; he couldn’t kill her without trapping his family inside their cell and himself inside this courtyard. Freeing them himself would require him to use the Moonstone; and even if that weren’t the highest level of treason, he would be playing directly into Zhan Tiri’s hands. Cassandra, he could handle. Zhan Tiri, probably not.

She watched him a moment more, seemingly making sure he wasn’t lying, then ate what he had offered. “Not bad, kid. You’ll have to teach me about what’s safe.” With a long yawn, she stretched and rested her head against her hand, arm propped up on her knee as her eyes drooped closed.

They lapsed into silence, and Varian tracked the passage of the sun by the shadows cast by the trees. He likely only had a few minutes left out here. If he was going to get her talking, it had to be now. “Hey… Cass?” He took a gamble on the nickname.

It must have been the right answer, given the pleased hum in the back of her throat as she looked over to him.

“I was wondering, what exactly are you planning?” He kept his voice neutral and light, neither approving nor disapproving. “I mean, I know you want to liberate Corona, but what’s the plan?”

Her face gave away no trace of anger at the question, and Varian counted that as a small win. “I needed time to master the Moonstone,” she explained. “Now that I understand it better, we’ll be moving for Corona soon. The citizens deserve to know the truth. We’ll make them see. We’ll expose the crimes of the Der Sonnes, and the people will call for their removal. They’ll be forced to step down. If we plan this carefully, we can take the kingdom with little to no bloodshed.”

Varian’s blood ran cold. It was so unCassandra that he second-guessed. “Wow. I… guess I always thought you’d be the type to go rushing in sword-first. You know, stab your way to a solution.”

She gave a dry smile. “I learned my lesson about that. Never works well for me. I’m not much of a strategist, but—”

“Zhan Tiri is?”

Her head whipped around sharply. Varian flinched, bringing up one hand to shield himself. When no pain greeted him, he slowly looked up to meet Cassandra’s eyes. Her brows knit in veiled concern, and she hadn’t moved from her position on the rock.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said softly, shifting one hand palm up as if trying to calm a skittish animal. “It’s okay.”

“S-Sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.”

He nodded shakily. “I know. I know.”

She looked up toward the sky. “I think it’s time to head back. You should— you should be with your family.”

“Wait!” He held out a hand, then withdrew it quickly. Shrinking in on himself, he whispered, “Just a few more minutes? Please?”

Her face softened. “Okay. Just a few.”

“Thanks, Cass.” He gave a bright smile. Stretching out again, he turned his face back toward the sky, taking advantage of every ounce of sunlight he could get. “Um, I don’t think I said it before, but—I mean, I still don’t exactly like what you’re doing, but, um…” He took a deep breath. “Thanks. For caring about them. Us. The Coronans. Everyone who got hurt because of the Der Sonnes.” When her features started to shift to a smile, he took it a bit further. “Can I, um—Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“You mentioned…. You mentioned your mom.”

She stiffened, and Varian flinched again. When she didn’t react beyond that, he looked back up at her. Cassandra sighed and drew her knees closer to her chest. “She… it’s a long story. My mother was Gothel.”

He gasped. “The woman who kidnapped Rapunzel?”

She nodded. “Before she was a kidnapper, she was my mom. She… wasn’t great. I never could seem to make her happy. Don’t know why she had a kid if she didn’t want one. I think she mostly kept me around so I could do the housework.” Staring at the ground, eyes unfocused, she murmured, “But still, she was my mom.”

“What happened?”

With a shrug, she answered, “The king uprooted the Sundrop flower. So Mother went looking for it and found Rapunzel. She… abandoned me. Kidnapped Raps. All because she wanted to be young and beautiful forever.” She dropped her head to rest on her knees. “And then she died. None of this would’ve happened if not for him. He caused all of it. I know she was horrible, but— but she was mine. All I had. And she left me. I just keep thinking, maybe if I’d had a little more time… a little longer with her to prove she could love me. I could be worthy of it.”

“Cass…” Varian reached out and put one hand on the rock armor of her forearm. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“How would you know?” she sniffed, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Because I tried. I tried to be the ‘perfect son,’ and it never worked. I tried to earn Hector’s love, and he just kept sticking around every time I messed up or pushed him away. They don’t love me because of what I do; they love me because of who I am. And I know dads can be complicated. But you’ve got one who still loves you and who hasn’t stopped praying you’ll come home.”

“How can you defend him?” she snapped. “After what happened to you? That was his fault!”

“He didn’t know.”

“He should have known!”

“Yes. He should have. But I think we all have a tendency to close our eyes when we don’t want the burden of knowing the truth.”

She winced. “Maybe.” Staring back up at the sky, she stood and yawned again. “Come on. We need to get back inside. Or else your family will think I did something to you.”

He stood and wrapped up his finds in his cloak, holding the small bundle to his chest. Following Cassandra back into the Tree, he shuddered as the walls enveloped them, cutting out the light from the sun and plunging his vision into darkness. His eyes adjusted as they walked, but he kept his gaze fixed on the glowing lines of Cassandra’s armor.

They reached the cell, where Quirin and Adira stood waiting, arms crossed and posture tense. Cassandra waved her hand to slide the bars open. Varian hesitated in the doorway, a slight shiver running down his spine.

“Varian,” Cassandra spoke, but it lacked the harshness of an order.

“It’s cold,” he said softly.

“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “Sorry. I can fix that.” At another gesture, a small circle of rocks sprang up in the middle of their cell, facing inward. A blue flame ignited in the center, growing until it resembled a campfire. “Do you want me to close off part of the wall to help keep the heat in?”

“No,” Varian answered quickly. “No, please. This is fine.” He gave a bright smile. “Thanks, Cass.”

As she left, he settled just close enough to the fire to feel its warmth, keeping a respectful distance away from it. Quirin and Adira joined him. “Well?” Quirin asked as the sound of Cassandra’s footsteps faded away.

Varian answered in the Old Tongue, switching to Spanish to substitute the words he didn’t know yet. “She plans to… to compel the crown family to leave—no, stop? Step down. Without a fight. Tell the people what happened and let them… let them force the crown away. Then she can lead.”

“Without violence? Hm,” Quirin rumbled. He said something Varian only caught part of. Repeating in Spanish, he continued, “She must know it won’t work. The king will never yield that easily.”

“I think her ally planned this. But why? Why does she—why is she trying to take the crown—um, the kingdom without violence?”

“Hard to say,” Adira answered. “Maybe she needs time to gather her strength. She may still be weak. She’s still trapped in the other realm— la otra dimension— so perhaps she is trying to find a way out.”

“Maybe.” Varian drew his knees to his chest, leaning closer to the fire. It was a kind gesture from their captor, and if her misplaced hope of swaying him to her side convinced her to allow them such privileges, he’d take it. “I’m worried about—Pelo Corto—cóme se dice?”

“Reva B’kara,” Quirin answered. “As a name, it’s Re’kara.”

“Hm. That’s pretty. I’m worried about Re’kara. She is not— not good. Not well. Tired all the time. Weaker.”

Adira scoffed. “As she deserves.”

Varian frowned. “I know, but it could be bad. For us. We need her now.”

“Mne nuzhna yeye golova na blyude.”

“Adira,” Quirin chided.

“You thought the same thing!”

“There’s more,” Varian continued. He’d only caught part of Adira’s threat, but the gist was clear. “Mother of Re’kara is bad mother of sunshine.”

“The princess’ kidnapper?” Quirin clarified.

“Yes, that.” He rolled the unfamiliar word— nas’almeth— on his tongue. “Her mother forgot—no, left her—because of the princess. Then she died because of the crown. Re’kara is angry because she wanted to earn her mother’s love.”

Quirin frowned. “Does she blame the princess?”

“She didn’t say. I don’t think so.” Varian grabbed the papers from his bag. “We have to be safe. I don’t know what she really wants. We have to get rid of these.”

Quirin put a hand on his wrist. “Are you sure, son?”

“I have them memorized.”

“Okay. Keep the one. We need the incantation, still.”

Varian nodded. “I’ll keep looking. It’s here somewhere.” He threw the rest of the papers into the flame. They crackled and hissed, the edges curling and browning as the fire flickered over the ancient parchment. Varian winced and curled up, hugging his knees as he watched the documents disappear into ash. A thousand years of history, now nothing but history. He’d destroyed one of the only lasting traces of Demanitus’ legacy.

The blue light flickered over the walls and across the crystalline structure in a melodic dance, swaying and twisting, joining and separating. Varian curled the edge of the one remaining scroll between his fingers, the well-preserved paper offering no resistance. He’d studied the paper endlessly over the last week, hunting for that last incantation. If they were to undo Cassandra’s plans, if they were to save Hector, they needed the final chant for the Sundrop—if she ever realized they were in need of her help. But all his efforts had been in vain. How was he supposed to find something that didn’t exist? Something invisible?

“Invisible,” he muttered, falling back into his native tongue. “In… Wait a second…” Lifting the paper to his eyes, he stared at the ink lines tracing the surface. “An incantation we can’t find, written in a code no one can read. It’s not a word cipher, and it’s not a number key either. What if it’s invisible?”

“Anything you can’t see is invisible,” Adira muttered. “That’s the problem.”

“No, I mean—what if it’s not that I’m translating it wrong? What if he used invisible ink?”

“Invisible ink? What’s that?” Quirin asked.

Adira’s lips quirked up. “It’s ink you can’t see.”

“Don’t start,” he groaned. “Varian, what do you think?”

“Use the sun to see the sun… Ha! A type of invisible ink that’s only revealed through sunlight! Maybe heat-activated? Or it needs a more concentrated beam of light.” He stood and held the scroll over the fire, far enough away that it wouldn’t burn. Nothing happened. “Hm, not enough. I need…” His gaze landed on the amber structure, where the firelight still cast its luminary dancers. “Hang on a second.”

Stepping closer to the amber, he held up the scroll next to a sharp spike, letting it catch the light that filtered through the crystal. In the concentrated beam, discolored by the orange haze, dark markings began to dot the paper. Varian hissed in shock and held the paper closer, but aside from the few spots, like splattered ink vaguely shaping letters, nothing else appeared.

“There’s definitely something here,” he told them, voice vibrating in his excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “I can’t make it out, though. But I think I’ll be able to see it tomorrow morning when we get some sunlight!”

Quirin stood. “That’s brilliant, son!”

Varian bit his lip, cheeks flushed from the praise. “Well, it won’t do us much good without Rapunzel, but it’s something. Once we get out of here, I guess we can go find her.”

“We’ll find a way. Don’t worry about it for now. It’s getting late. You should rest.”

He nodded, rolling the scroll back up and placing it away. Removing his foraged finds from his cloak, he stored them in the bags and wrapped himself in the fabric, sitting close enough to the fire to feel its warmth but far enough away that he wouldn’t feel burnt—or like someone would try to use it against him. Despite the flame’s unnatural color, he couldn’t deny how his body felt less worn and achy than it had all week.

Still, he wouldn’t have needed her stupid fire if she hadn’t locked them up. Ruddiger was probably worried sick. Hopefully Kiki and Riki were keeping him far away from here. If they had seen Artemis fall, they would have gone after her and would keep her safe from any predators. There wasn’t much in these woods scarier than them— excluding Cassandra’s personality.

O‴O‴O‴

Zhan Tiri’s cold eyes pierced through him, her thin brows furrowed so deeply they almost touched. “What have you done?”

He sat on the back of the couch, his boots resting on the cushions below as he took some small satisfaction at the huff the action elicited from her. “Not sure what you mean.”

“The scrolls, you foolish child! You burned priceless knowledge! Those scrolls represented a knowledge that has been unknown for centuries!”

“Well, now they can be unknown forever. They weren’t doing anyone any good anyway.”

“And whose fault is that?” she seethed. “Locked away here in a tree. Guarded by a—a creature who can’t even read them!”

Varian’s shoulders tensed. “Don’t call him that. Ever.”

Her lips curled in a sneer, inhaling like she would snap back that she could do whatever she very well pleased, but then her features smoothed out. Sitting on the other couch— the one to Varian’s left, since he’d picked first this time— she relaxed into the cushions, legs crossed primly like the worn leather was a throne. “That was a very foolish decision. You aren’t stupid, Varian. Why would you do that?”

He shrugged. “Because I don’t trust you. You’re right; I don’t know you. I don’t know what you want or why you’re interested in me or why you’re manipulating Cass— Cassandra. So call this insurance. You can’t read them now, and you can’t do anything to hurt me since I’m the only one who knows what those scrolls said.”

“You’re taking a rather large risk. Aren’t you afraid of someone blackmailing you to get what they want? Perhaps targeting your family instead?” She raised a thin brow sharply.

“I already made that mistake once. If you go after my family, I can always remove myself from the equation.”

That took her off guard, her lips parting in surprise. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t test me.”

Their eyes locked, neither giving way for several long seconds. Barely-restrained fury painted itself across her sharp cheekbones and needle-like brows, while he kept his shoulders lax and breathing even.

“Clever child,” she finally conceded, a dagger-like smile splitting her face. “You’re bluffing, but you’re clever.”

“Thought I was ‘foolish.’”

“Somehow, you manage to be both.”

Varian examined his fingernails. “I do try. Now, about that incantation. I think I found it. Make sure I’m awake in time to catch the sunrise.”

“Figured it out, did we? I’m surprised it took you so long.”

He cut her a narrow glare. “You didn’t give me much to work with. ‘Use the sun to see the sun’? Really? I get less than half an hour of sunlight per day.”

“You have an entire hour outside.”

“Yeah, with Cassandra right there! That’ll go well. ‘Hey, Cass, mind if I try to find out a secret incantation that Rapunzel can use against you?’ I’d lose the few privileges I still get. And besides, it’s not doing us any good.” His stomach twisted painfully at the thought of his absent friend. “Even if I find that incantation, Artemis is… She—”

Zhan Tiri rolled her eyes. “Don’t fret. Your bird is alive. She won’t be flying anywhere, but she’s alive.”

Though the words were undoubtedly meant to comfort—to manipulate—they fell short. “I hope you’re right, but again, I don’t trust you. I’ll have to see her for myself.” He leaned closer. “Why do you want Rapunzel to get that incantation so badly? Isn’t that bad news for you, since she’ll use it to defeat Cassandra?”

“My purposes are my own. Cassandra is well-intentioned but short-sighted. She needs guidance and clarity.”

“You mean she needs you to tell her what to do and what to fight?”

“She needs an advisor.”

“But you’re not being honest with her.”

Zhan Tiri rolled her wrist, eyeing her fingernails in a mockery of Varian’s own casual gesture. “Sounds like something you would be familiar with. Someone leading you along without giving you all the information you think you need. Asking for your blind trust. Tell me, how is your father, anyway? This must be difficult for him, given his own imprisonment.”

Varian bristled, teeth grinding together. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”

“Do what? Remind you that your own dear father lied to you for years? And yet he always wanted what was best for you, didn’t he? Did you ever doubt that?” She uncrossed her legs and stood lithely. “Our time here is at an end. Sunrise.”

“I won’t give you that incantation.”

“I won’t need it. Your princess, however, might. I’d work quickly, if I were you.” She waved her hand, and the living room faded away as Varian’s mind was tugged back into uncomfortable consciousness.

 O‴O‴O‴

Ink spread across the paper, summoned up by orange light refracted through the amber. Varian held his breath, not releasing it until the words had all taken shape. Slowly moving the scroll away from the beam of light, he grinned when the incantation didn’t fade. “It’s—this is it. The full power of the Sundrop.”

“What is it?” Quirin asked softly, resting his hand on Varian’s shoulder.

Varian leaned into the touch as he considered the question. The Sundrop’s first incantation was life, healing, and the Moonstone’s first incantation was death itself. The Moonstone’s second incantation created, but it created bars, barriers, walls. It created to destroy. What would the Sundrop’s final incantation do? If it was intended to “undo” the darkness, what was it capable of? Could it free them?

He traced his finger along the final line, resting on one word. “Hope. It’s… It’s hope.”

O‴O‴O‴

The first shudder rocked the Tree sometime after dawn the next day, when the sun hadn’t yet risen over the peaks and a dreary gray draped the room in somber shadows. Varian jolted awake, fingers clutching at his blanket as he curled up, scanning the cell for the threat. Quirin had shifted to his feet noiselessly, fists clenched and hiding a wince, and Adira was already perched halfway up the side of a wall near the “entrance,” ready to spring on any unsuspecting jailer who provided half a chance.

The Tree shuddered again, warped energy flowing through its rock casing, and Varian bit back a wave of revulsion as he stood and stepped into a combat stance. “She’s angry. That’s probably bad news for us.”

Adira hummed. “If she’s angry, she’ll be careless. We may get an opening. Be ready.” She gave him an appraising look. “Don’t appear to her as a threat. Play to her weaknesses.”

Varian nodded and loosened his stance, picking his cloak up and wrapping it around his shoulders as he worked the fabric between his calloused fingers. After a week in this accursed cell, it wouldn’t be too difficult to play the part of a tired and scared teenager. Though it irked him to display any weakness in front of an enemy, even if it was put on like a glove, Cassandra would react better to seeing him as someone in need of protecting from whatever perceived threat she was reacting to, rather than as another variable to defend herself against.

It wasn’t Cassandra who ran into the room, though.

The first form to darken the doorway—or a tiny section of the doorway—was a small gray blur that shot in between the cage bars and slammed into Varian’s legs. He hardly had time to register Ruddiger’s presence before the raccoon was crawling up his torso in circles, tiny claws digging into him as he ran an injury check on his boy. When he finally settled into Varian’s arms, Varian clung to him fiercely, burying his face in his fur. “Ruddiger! I missed you so much, buddy,” he choked, remembering all too vividly the last time he’d been locked away from his friend.

A second shadow blocked the light from the hall torches, and Varian looked up, clutching Ruddiger tighter in his arms. His eyes widened, though, when Lance came into view, panting for breath as he chased after Ruddiger. Lance doubled over, hands on his knees, as he groaned. “Quick little furball.” Then he straightened up, a sharp hiss whistling between his teeth as he saw them. “Holy—Varian!” Sprinting forward again, he wrapped his fingers around the bars. “Varian, are you okay?” He scanned the room with the careful eyes of a former thief, taking in Adira and Quirin’s positions and running his own injury assessment of all three. Then his gaze landed on the amber. “Oh, sweet sun,” he whispered, eyebrows drawn tightly as his knuckles paled from where they gripped the bars.

Varian stepped forward, grasping the hand that Lance extended through one of the holes. “How did you get here? That—that should’ve taken weeks! And Artemis—she couldn’t—” He closed his eyes tightly. Shaking his head, he whispered, “How did you know where to find us?”

“Hey, hey, time for all that later,” Lance answered. “We took the airship. Rapunzel and Eugene are here, too, and so is King Edmund. We’re going to get you out, okay? Just hang tight, man.”

Varian nodded, not trusting his voice.

Quirin stepped forward. “Strongbow? The prince’s friend? We’ve met once, I believe.”

Lance nodded. “That’s me. Man, it’s still weird hearing Eugene called a prince. Anyway, good to see you again. Well, except for this.” He tapped the bars. “Look, Rapunzel’s gone after Cassandra. Eugene’s with her, and the king and I were looking for you. I think he’s got your brother’s bearcats with him. We’ll find a way to get you out of here. Maybe Rapunzel can try to control the rocks again—”

Varian hissed, reaching into his bag and snatching up a piece of paper and a pencil. He scratched out a few lines. “Lance, get this to the princess! Now!”

He took the paper. “What is it?”

“Hope,” Varian answered, wrapping his fingers around Lance’s. “That’s the Sundrop’s final incantation. It’s the only thing that can defeat Cassandra now. Now that she has the—” He grimaced, lowering his eyes. “Since I gave her the Moonstone’s incantation.”

“Hey.” Lance placed a hand atop Varian’s head. “If I’m reading the situation right, you did what you had to do. This isn’t your fault.” His fingers curled around Varian’s hair, applying gentle pressure to the side of his head. “You hear me, little brother? This isn’t your fault.”

Varian nodded shakily. “I— I hear you. Elys m’ yev’gtha.”

“Good man. I’m going to take this to Rapunzel. I’m coming right back. Okay? I’m not leaving you here. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I trust you.”

The lines around Lance’s eyes deepened as he smiled. “Thanks. Hang on just a few more minutes.” He let go of Varian, nodding to Quirin and Adira. Then he turned back the way he’d come, disappearing into the hall.

Varian waited, tense, each rumble and creak that echoed through the Tree sending a shiver down his spine. Would Lance make it back okay? Had the incantation been translated correctly? What if Rapunzel tried to use it and it wasn’t enough?

Sensing his tension, Ruddiger curled up around his neck, purring fiercely. Varian gasped back a wave of tears, turning and burying his face in Ruddiger’s side as he slumped down against the rocks. After a week of this nightmare, locked away like a criminal again and separated from his friends, imprisoned with yet another monument to his hubris trapping a member of his family, was it about to be over? Were they getting out of here? Was this nightmare about to end?

Or would it take yet another twist, driving the knife deeper into his back?

Quirin stood in front of Varian as several set of footsteps thundered down the hall, weight shifted forward in a combat stance. Lance sprang back into view, with Rapunzel right behind him. Varian jumped to his feet, a breath catching in his throat.

Rapunzel was glowing.

Literally and figuratively; her bright golden hair lit up the dark room, light washing in waves down the long strands that trailed loose behind her; and her skin, once porcelain from years locked away from the world, had taken on a honeyed complexion. She strode into the room with the confidence of a queen, thrusting out a hand in front of her. “Back up!”

They scrambled to get out of the way, pressing themselves against the walls of the cell. Quirin threw his body over Varian, strong arms encircling him like a full-body shield.

The cell wall exploded, shards of rock shrapnel shooting through the room and embedding in the ground, the ceiling, and the back wall. Not a scrap touched the Brotherhood. As the final few pieces dropped to the floor with a noisy clatter, Rapunzel sighed, lowering her hand and stepping through the gap in the wall. “Is everyone okay?”

Varian looked up, watching as the gold faded from her eyes. The shine of her hair, however, stayed. “Rapunzel?”

“Varian!” She ran to him as he disentangled himself from Quirin’s arms. Her hands hovered around the height of his shoulders, though she didn’t touch him. “Are you okay?”

In that moment, she was so bright, so warm, and Varian was so tired. Her golden glow blurred in his vision as the weight of the last week crashed down onto him like an exploding boiler. He was tired of this stupid cell, tired of playing nice and pretending to let Cassandra convince him, tired of the cold and the dark and Zhan Tiri trying to mess with his head. He was tired of pretending he was okay when he was one good panic attack from falling apart. Stepping closer to her, he let his head fall forward to rest on her shoulder. It wasn’t quite a hug, but still he closed his eyes and basked in the warmth radiating off her. She hummed softly, reaching up to card gentle fingers through his hair. The gesture was so Hector-like that he had to bite back a broken cry.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she said softly. “I’ll explain everything once we’re on the ship. But we need to move. I’ll get Hector out, but Varian, I need you to tell me which incantation to use.”

He picked his head back up. “Huh?”

“I can use the wither incantation or the new one. You tell me what’s safer. We don’t have a lot of time. Cassandra’s distracted for now, but we have to hurry.”

“How did you distract her?”

She shrugged. “Dropped a pile of her own rocks on her. She’s fine, but she’s out cold for a few minutes. Eugene’s not far down the hall; he’s watching out for her.”

Varian turned to face the amber. The wither incantation worked, as they had seen with Quirin, but Rapunzel almost hadn’t woken up. And Quirin had at least been upright, so she could wrap her hair around the structure without risking it touching him when the crystal melted. Hector, though, had been prone on the ground, knocked aside by Cassandra as if he weighed nothing. “The hope incantation,” Varian decided. “If that doesn’t work, we can try the other one. Can you target where that thing hits?”

“More or less? It’s not perfect, but it seems to affect the rocks more than other objects, and I don’t think it hurts people.”

“There’s a pile of rocks there. See it? That’s where she—” He bit his lip. “Aim for that. It should shatter the amber.”

“Alright! Stand back.” She lifted her hand, but the Tree gave another shudder, rocks grinding against rocks as the ground shifted under their feet. “Uh-oh.”

Eugene’s voice echoed down the hall. “Better hurry, Sunshine; I think someone just woke up!”

“Right!” Her eyes began to glow again. Varian, Quirin, and Adira shifted behind her to join Lance. Varian clutched Ruddiger tightly, fingers buried in the gray fur.

The rocks at the base of the amber lit up, white light pouring through their striated surfaces. As if torn apart from the inside, they exploded outward, tearing through the amber and flinging debris through the room. With another flick of her wrist, her hair came up in front of the group as a shield, the rubble bouncing harmlessly off.

As her hair fell back to the floor, Varian darted out from behind her and ran to Hector’s side, dropping to his knees beside him. Quirin and Adira followed. Placing her fingers against Hector’s carotid artery, Adira sighed. “Weak, but it’s there. He’s alive.”

Varian and Quirin carefully rolled Hector over onto his back. The motion elicited a deep groan out of him. He blinked slowly, then squinted as he gave a full-body wince. “King Edmund’s silk nightshirt, eso duele como el dickens.”

Quirin laughed brokenly, bracing an arm behind Hector’s back to help him sit up. Bracing their foreheads together, he rasped, “I’m glad you’re alive. Now I’m gonna kill you myself.”

“Get in line,” Hector groaned. “The crap happened?”

“Guys, we need to go now!” Lance called.

Adira stood. “Get him up. We’re out of time. Princess, will you be able to keep fighting Short Hair?”

Rapunzel nodded slowly. “I can buy us time. Get to the ship. Lance can show you the way. We found Hector’s friends outside. They’re with King Edmund. I’ll signal them to meet you at the ship.”

Varian reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t! Just— Just come with us.”

She gave him a sad smile, her green eyes clouded with tears. “Don’t worry about me. You gave me everything I need to win.” Scrubbing her wrist across her eyes, she nodded firmly. “This place is coming down, so get out of here as quick as you can. I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’m not leaving you!”

How could she ask him to do that? To abandon her?

“Varian.” Rapunzel took his hand, squeezing it lightly. “It’s okay. This is my destiny, remember? You did everything you could. It’s not your job to make her stand down. Trust me to take care of it.” Letting go of his hand, she brushed her fingers lightly through his bangs, pushing them away from his eyes. “Let me come through for you this time.”

He nodded weakly, his throat closing up before he could try to rebuff her argument. When she stepped away from him, he took a half-step toward her gravitating warmth before catching himself.

Quirin pulled Hector to his feet, half-carrying him. “Let’s move. Lance, you and His Highness take point. Varian, Ruddiger, follow them. Adira, guard the rear. I’ve got Hector.”

“Don’t need help,” Hector growled, but his tight grip on Quirin’s shoulder belied his words.

“Good luck, Your Highness,” Quirin said to Rapunzel. “We’ll wait for you at the ship.”

“I’ll be right there. Now go!” She sprinted back down the hall in search of Cassandra. Varian picked his way past the broken wall, following Lance. The others followed closely behind. Eugene met them in the hall.

“Alright!” he called with forced cheerfulness. “We’ve got a one-way ticket out of this joint, so let’s get moving! Good to see you, Varian. And Quirin. And you too, Shadow Lady,” he said with a teasing smile in Adira’s direction.

“Fishskin,” she shot back. “I see you haven’t been punched in the face yet today. I can fix that for you.”

“Charming as always, I see. Come on, folks, let’s get this show on the road!” He led the way back down the hall.

The trip back to the center of the tree took far longer than it should have; between the constant shaking and rumbling and the piles of rock already littering the confined spaces, and the occasional flashing of lights from somewhere nearby that flooded the Tree and left them blinking away spots, the small company stumbled through the hazardous terrain toward what was left of the trunk. Hector tried to get his feet underneath him, but when he kept collapsing back against Quirin’s side, he gave up and let himself be dragged along. He kept one hand on his side, where Varian was certain he had broken ribs from his last fight with Cassandra.

By the time they reached the slanted center, balanced precariously on one of the collapsed inner trees, the unseen fight had grown even fiercer. Flashes of blue and yellow shot through the air like whips, clashing and twisting around each other as the rock walls shattered under their combined force. The entire Tree groaned, a prolonged death-knell as its abused body endured the strain of staying together under the onslaught. Its last noble effort wouldn’t last much longer, though, and they needed to be out of here by the time the ancient refuge gave its last breath.

A wall far to the right collapsed, and a golden blur tumbled downward, landing on an outjutting of rock far below. Rapunzel picked herself up, brushing dust off her dress, and threw her hair to pull herself back up. Beyond the hole in the wall, Varian spotted a row of blue fire and an arched window.

Handing Ruddiger to Lance and breaking from the line, he let go of the branch he’d been clinging to and jumped to the next platform. Behind him, Adira cried out, demanding him to stop, but he didn’t look back. “I’ll catch up!” he yelled. “Keep going!”

“Varian, don’t!”

Ignoring their calls, he kept running, ducking back into the next hall. He followed the tug of energy thrumming from the back of his right hand, letting it guide him through the hollow skeleton. He reached the door of Cassandra’s throne room, ducking behind one of the pillars. In the middle of the room, Rapunzel stood facing Cassandra, who had collapsed at the base of her spiked throne.

“Come on, Cass!” Rapunzel pleaded, gasping for breath. “This has gone too far. Just stop already!”

“Never!” Cassandra spat, pulling herself to her feet. “I won’t stop until Corona knows what true justice is. Get out of my way.”

“Please listen!” Rapunzel took a step forward, holding out a hand when Cassandra tensed as if she’d jump at her. At the sharp gesture, Cassandra stilled, watching through wary eyes. “I get that you want to fix things. So do I. But this isn’t the right way! We can work together. We want the same thing!”

“I promise you, we don’t. I want the monarchy to fall. I want Corona at my feet! You want the Moonstone so you can fulfill your oh-so-precious destiny. Everything has always been about you. So you could get what you wanted!”

“Cass, I—”

“And now you’re here to play the hero, to pretend to be the person who cares about others, and it’s all so you can have your way! You didn’t care about Varian or his dad until it was convenient for you. We left him there because of you! So you could look for this!” She rested a hand over the Moonstone, straightening up and pacing forward.

Rapunzel stamped a bare foot against the stone floor. “Yes, and we were wrong! We were wrong to leave him there. I’m owning up to that!”

“Admitting it doesn’t fix it. As soon as he gets in the way again, you’ll shove him to the side, just like last time. All of them. Everyone you claim to love just so you can use them!”

Rapunzel’s eyes narrowed. “Sounds like someone we both used to call Mother.”

Cassandra hissed, flinging out her hand and sending a wave of rocks at Rapunzel. She thrust her own hand up, halting the rocks in their tracks. Then they shattered. Varian ducked further behind the pillar as shrapnel shot through the air.

“Don’t talk about that woman!” Cassandra seethed. “You have no right to talk about her!” Rocks rose around her in a defensive bristle. “She abandoned me and used you! None of it would have happened if not for your monster of a father! She could’ve been a good person. She could have loved me!”

“There was no love in her heart!” Rapunzel replied, her voice breaking. “There never was! She never would have loved you.”

“Well, we’ll never get the chance to find out, will we? Because you killed her.”

Rapunzel gasped, taking a faltering step back and bringing a hand up to her chest as if Cassandra’s words had impaled her.

In her shock, she didn’t see the twist of Cassandra’s wrist.

Varian felt the hum of energy before the rocks moved. Throwing himself forward, he plowed into Rapunzel’s side, knocking her to the ground as a blunt pillar erupted near her feet at an angle. The pillar struck him, flinging him away and across the grand hall.

He didn’t feel the pain at first. Didn’t feel the breaking of his ribs, didn’t feel his back hit the frame of the open window. Didn’t feel his body tip, or the wind rushing through his hair as he fell from the Tree toward the sharp peaks of the mountain range below.

His feeling came back about halfway down.

By then, he didn’t have enough air left in his lungs to scream.

Chapter Text

Varian was no stranger to falling. The way the wind brushed through his hair like cold fingers, the way it seemed to push against him in a futile effort to keep him up, the way his mind seemed to block out what was happening as if to spare him the pain until he hit the ground and the inevitable came rushing back.

His most recent fall had been in the tunnels, into the oubliette, and Hector had been there to grab him. Hector wasn’t here this time. Hector was injured, being carried to safety, because of Varian. And now he would have to grieve, to hear that Varian had gotten himself killed by his own stupidity.

He had always assumed that death would bring its own peace. Everyone spoke of a type of grace that carried a person across the veil when their appointed time came. He didn’t know if that same grace applied when someone else tried to hasten the appointment. But that lack of peace and grace was part of the reason he had always kept fighting, keeping his head low to avoid unwanted attention but never submitting to the cruel abuse inflicted on him. How could he lay down and die if it wasn’t his time?

This moment didn’t bring peace. Falling didn’t come with grace. How could he be at peace, when he had left so much unfinished? He didn’t want to die. Now, more than ever, he didn’t want to die. But what choice did he have? Gravity didn’t care what he wanted. The mountains below were cold and unfeeling.

Through the spots in his vision, two glowing blurs hovered overhead. Gold and blue, side by side, their colors seeping into each other and casting sparks, two celestial powers fallen from the heavens to crash into a world that didn’t understand them.

They drew closer to him, shooting stars in a dark sky. A golden trail followed the brighter of the meteors, lashing around it like waves. A beam of light stretched toward him, furling around him in a warm embrace. It tugged him closer to the star as more beams circled around them, and he found himself floating in the center of the sun, warm and weightless.

A sharp pain flared through his head, the light around him growing too much for his hazy vision to stand. Waves of pain settled over his body like a familiar blanket, pulling him under.

He blinked and shifted, but the pain was everywhere, loud and angry as it pressed him into the ground. The star brushed a gentle hand across his cheekbone, green gemstones misted with tears looking back at him from a heart-shaped face. He groaned and rolled his head, catching sight of the second star drawing closer. A hand, wreathed in black and blue, stretched toward him.

The first star exploded, burning fury striking out at the second star. He hissed, the comforting warmth of the golden celestial growing hotter and hotter. It burned like a fire, like a brand.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” she shrieked. “DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Her voice echoed, a haunted crescendo piercing through the cool mountain air.

The burning had stopped, but the pain hadn’t, still clinging to him like chemical residue to the base of a glass beaker—no, no, don’t like that imagery, something else—like a blanket –already used that, something more creative—like a scar, always there, even when he didn’t notice it immediately. Yes, that was better, he knew scars well. Less familiar than the pain were the arms holding him, a name at the back of his mind that refused to step into the light. He knew the arms, but not well. Not his dad, not his uncle. He blinked up at a pair of dark eyes, narrowed sharply to mask the sheen of tears.

“Ostavaytes' so mnoy, malysh. My pochti na meste.”

O‴O‴O‴

Hector wrestled against Quirin’s hold, yelping as his broken ribs shifted. Quirin strong-armed him through the Tree, ignoring his protests. “Let me go,” Hector snarled. “Gotta get the kid!”

“Adira went after him,” Quirin answered gruffly. “Let her handle it.”

A familiar head of curly dark hair entered his line of sight. “Hector!” Edmund called. “Quirin! Is everyone alright?” His eyes scanned their small group with practiced efficiency.

Two dark shapes rushed up on Hector, yowling around his legs and pushing underneath his free hand. He leaned on Kiki, letting the bearcat take part of his weight. Quirin allowed it. Looking around for Artemis, Hector frowned. He hadn’t seen her with Varian. Was she out of the line of danger, or had she followed him?

“Hector sustained several fractures,” Quirin reported to the king, cold and clinical as if giving a mission debrief. “Varian and Adira are further inside still. No other major injuries.”

“Good. Let’s get to the ship.” Edmund drew his shoulders back, motioning for Lance and Eugene to keep going. He took the rear, one hand on his axe. Hector relaxed minutely with the solid presences beside and behind him. Moments later, a gray, rock-like wall appeared in his line of vision, nudging Kiki out of the way. Hector gripped Kubwa’s saddle with his free hand; in his condition, he wouldn’t be able to pull himself up, much less ride atop the gentle giant, but it still helped.

Sunlight hit his face like a blow from a shield, throbbing in its intensity. Limping along, he clung to Quirin with stiff fingers as they emerged from the mouth of the tunnel. A sharp breeze flitted by, sending a shiver down his spine. Behind him, the Tree gave a piercing shriek, rock scraping against rock as the encased branches were tossed about by the force of the battle happening overhead. Hector winced at the sound, resting his head against Quirin’s shoulder. It was the closest he could get to hiding his face without seeming like a scared child. Bad enough that Edmund was seeing him like this—defeated so easily by a treacherous thief, beaten and imprisoned for… how long had it been? Edmund had certainly seen the Brotherhood in worse condition, but the sting of disapproval never got easier to bear.

“Watch your step,” Quirin whispered as he slowed down. Hector looked up, his blood running cold as he saw the wooden structure before him. His bones locked up, rooting him to the spot as he tugged against Quirin’s hold.

“Quir, I can’t—I can’t get on that thing,” he rasped. “Please—”

“We have no choice,” Quirin said softly. “Cálmate. Estoy aquí. Te tengo a ti.”

He groaned but let Quirin and Kubwa pull him onto the ship. Quirin limped him over to the other side, setting him down against the railing. He let him go, then, settling down next to him. Hector bit his lip, fixing his gaze on the Tree in the distance. Dust rained down from it as it continued to shake, fractures scarring the smooth surface. Would any of it be left by the time this was over? How many times could one tree die? How much more abuse could it take before its body fell apart for good?

How many times could one woman tear his life apart, shatter everything he held dear in her desperate attempt to get at the one child that he stood in front of?

How many times could his own home collapse around him?

His heart lurched into his throat as the ground shook, an earthquake radiating from the Tree as an explosion lit up the side, somewhere near the base. Sitting up quickly, he winced as the motion jostled his ribs. “Varian!” he yelled, voice raspy. “Quirin, where’s Var—”

Quirin put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down gently. “Don’t,” he ordered. “Adira followed him. She’ll keep him safe.”

Hector whistled sharply, and Riki and Kiki alerted. “Go hunt,” he ordered. Before Quirin could stop them, the bearcats leapt the ship’s railing, tearing off into the woods. He slumped back against Quirin’s side, grimacing.

“Hector,” Quirin chided. “That was dangerous.”

“My boys will be fine,” he growled back. “None a’ this woulda happened if I had gone after him—”

“And you would’ve gotten yourself killed, fur-for-brains,” he snapped back. “Trust Adira.”

“I do trust Adira. It’s the other two I don’t trust.”

“And I don’t blame you. But getting yourself killed won’t help Varian.”

Hector snarled but relented, leaning against the railing again. Quirin stood and briefly left, returning moments later with a medical kit. With longsuffering patience (meaning he didn’t bite Quirin), Hector allowed himself to be nudged around a bit while Quirin bandaged his torso.

Once he was clothed properly again, Edmund approached them. “My friends. I’m sorry to have met again under these circumstances, but I’m glad you’re both okay.”

“Your Majesty.” Quirin stood and offered his hand to shake. Edmund ignored it and pulled him into a hug.

“I’ve missed you, my brother,” Edmund said. “I understand why you felt you had to leave, but I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Quirin admitted.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

His stony face cracked, a warm smile finally reaching his lips. “I did. You’ve met my son.”

“I have. He’s an incredible child.”

Hector coughed pointedly. “And I’d like to get him back, if we all don’t mind. Quirin, if Adira’s not back with him in five minutes, I’m going after him, and you won’t stop me.”

Quirin sighed. “If they’re not back in five minutes, I’ll go with you.”

With a groan, Hector ran his fingers through his hair. Now that they had stopped running, his body had decided to make him feel everything that it had to complain about. He couldn’t take this sitting and waiting, with nothing to dwell on but the pain in his chest and the exhaustion pressing heavy on his shoulders and the shadow of the Great Tree over his head. He needed to move, to hunt, to do something other than just sit here! “How did you find us?” he settled for asking.

Edmund smiled. “Varian sent us a message via hawk.”

“Artemis!”

“Indeed. We almost didn’t receive it, though. The noble creature was badly injured. She landed in the woods about a week’s ride from Corona.”

“Then how?” His chest twinged. It must have been Cassandra. If she caught Varian trying to send a message, it would be just like her. It wasn’t the first companion of theirs she had hurt, and in the same place, too.

“She landed just beyond a village that seemed to remember a quartet of knights passing through not long ago. They tended to her injuries and brought her— and her note— to us. The young maiden who delivered her was most insistent on doing it personally.”

He gave a soft huff. “Collette, by any chance?” At Edmund’s nod, he sighed softly. “We’ve met. Good kid.” He leaned back and tried to relax.

“I see something!” Lance called minutes later. Hector straightened up, biting his tongue to keep from making a sound.

Quirin ran to the edge of the ship. “It’s Adira,” he called. “She has Varian.”

Hector tried to stand, but Edmund’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Stay,” he ordered. “They’ll come to us. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“He’s—that’s my—”

“I know,” Edmund said softly. “I know.”

“That’s my kid,” Hector choked, leaning into Edmund’s touch.

“I know.”

Adira boarded the ship, clutching something in her arms, tightly to her chest. Ruddiger sat on her shoulders, ear-splitting shrieks tearing from his small body. Rapunzel ran right behind her, dragging her length of hair along. “Get us in the air!” the princess yelled to Lance and Eugene, scrubbing her wrist across her face to clear her tears. Riki and Kiki leapt onto the ship, snarling and pacing circles around Adira.

A sharp pain shot through Hector’s chest, one that had nothing to do with his broken bones. Like a dagger to his heart, its sharp edge cutting through his armor and shields. A blue streak of hair, stained a sickening red, plastered to a too-pale face flecked with even more of that miserable color. Long, dark lashes, resting above freckled cheekbones. One arm dangling loosely out of Adira’s hold, a patchwork of burns and scars writing his story; and thirteen parallel lines on his bicep, thirteen times he told the truth, thirteen scars that demanded retribution.

A howl clawed loose from Hector’s throat, and he made it to his knees before Edmund shoved him back down. Adira’s glare landed on Hector, and she held Varian tighter to her chest, shoulders hunched as if she feared someone would snatch him away.

The airship gave a fierce shake as it lifted from the ground. Hector’s heart plummeted to his stomach, and he dropped his head to his knees, wincing. Quirin ran to Adira’s side. “Give him to me!”

Adira gave a half-snarl, a sound foreign to the composed ex-princess, and shrank away from Quirin, turning her body to shield Varian with her shoulders.

Rapunzel piled her hair against the ship’s railing, close to Hector. “Put him here,” she said. “Adira, we have to treat him!”

Adira turned her burning glower on Rapunzel, who stared back just as firmly. With a curt nod, Adira stepped forward, kneeling down to lay Varian in the nest that Rapunzel had created. Once she had let go, she jumped back as if she’d been burnt, turning away and pressing a hand to her mouth. “Quir,” she bit out.

Quirin dropped to his knees beside Varian, grabbing the medical bag and setting to work. “Assessment?”

“Concussion, broken ribs. Likely in shock. No spinal damage. We— We had to move him. We couldn’t stay there.”

Quirin paused, eyes closed as he took deep, grounding breaths. His hands shook slightly as he gripped the bag. Hector looked around the ship. Adira was non-present, eyes glazed over as she moved to the bow of the ship and gripped the railing, Ruddiger held tightly in one arm to keep him from rushing to Varian’s side. Lance and Eugene were attempting to steer the ship over the forest canopy. Edmund kept his hand firmly on Hector’s shoulder—and admittedly, Hector himself wasn’t in the right frame of mind to try to tend to Varian’s injuries. It wasn’t fair to ask Quirin to do this. But he was the only option now.

Opening his eyes, Quirin opened the bag, no trace of lingering shaking in his hands now. Quirin the soldier was in charge now. “Princess, get his shirt off. Don’t let his head move. Then straighten out his limbs. The blood is from his head wound. Shallow, no fractures. We’ll need a compress.” He glanced over at Rapunzel, who hadn’t moved, still staring down at Varian with wide, misty eyes. “Princess!” he snapped. She jerked up and snapped to attention. “His shirt. We have to bandage his chest.”

“I—I can’t—” She blinked rapidly. “He won’t want me to see—”

“Ah, shut up,” Hector snapped. “You’ve already seen it. Listen, Rubia. I don’t know what the heck happened back there. But you need to pack it up for now. Put it in a box and deal with it later. Quirin needs a hand, and I can’t move. There ain’t nothing on his chest you ain’t already seen, so get that shirt off him and get to work!”

Her breath hitched, and she nodded, reaching for the straps on Varian’s tunic. Quirin gave him a grateful nod, and Hector grunted, leaning back against the low wall.

“Adira, what happened?” Edmund ordered.

“Not now,” Quirin snapped. “Unless it’s relevant to getting him bandaged, we don’t need to know yet.”

He set to work in silence, only occasionally giving a terse order to Rapunzel. To her credit, she obeyed without hesitation. Hector turned away, closing his eyes and letting the tension bleed from his shoulders. Until Quirin told him there was something he could do, he was useless. He didn’t do well with being useless. But the situation was being handled.

The silhouette of the Tree was a small speck in the distance by the time Quirin stood. He turned and stalked straight below deck without speaking. Edmund let go of Hector with a calm nod and left to follow Quirin. Rapunzel leaned against the railing, giving a weak smile and a thumbs up to Hector.

“He’ll be okay,” she said. “We got his ribs stabilized. He’s going to have a killer headache for a while, but he’ll be okay.”

Hector nodded. “What happened?”

Her petite face crumpled in misery. “He fell,” she answered. “I was— I was fighting Cass. She tried… she was going to hit me, and Varian—” Covering her mouth with her hand, she continued, “He pushed me out of the way. He knew what she was going to do before she did it. Like he knew where the rock would be.”

Hector’s heart sank. He never should have taught him that trick.

“When he got hit, he… he fell. From the window.” Closing her eyes, she half-turned away, pressing her knuckles to her lips. “I’m sorry— I need a minute.”

“It’s fine,” he gritted out, looking away to give her privacy. She could hardly move with Varian still laying on her hair. He wanted to push, but he sensed there was something there he didn’t know, a mind-scar that medicine couldn’t heal.

Taking a deep breath, she continued a bit more calmly, “He fell. I jumped after him. So did Cass. I caught him with my hair and used it to to break our fall, but— we hit the ground hard. That’s when he hit his head.” A choked sob tore from her  throat. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

“Stop.” His teeth ground together. “You saved his life. Thank you. I… thank you.” The tense band around his chest eased. Varian was alive. He would heal. The scars would linger, like always, and Hector would be by his side to help. His brave, reckless, noble kid would be okay. He was alive.

Of course, Hector would never let him climb a tree again, ever, but that was a fight for another day. And thanks to the princess, they would have another day.

She shook her head. “I couldn’t heal him,” she whispered. “I tried. Again. The incantation didn’t work. That used to be all I was good for. Now I can’t even do that. He could’ve died and it would’ve been my fault.”

“Shut up,” he ordered again. Sheesh, she was too much like Varian. How did he keep ending up as a therapist for every self-deprecating child this side of the Seven Kingdoms? “Your hair’s invincible now, right? And you used it to protect my kid. You coulda let him fall, but you didn’t. He’s alive because of you. After everything you two went through, you chose his safety. And it ain’t your fault you can’t heal no more. Power transference from the rocks, right? Nothing you coulda done about that.”

“I—” she gave a shaky nod. “I guess you’re right.”

“Thank you,” he said again. “For showing up. Wasn’t… wasn’t sure how we’d fix this one. I don’t— I’m not even sure how long it’s been.”

She brushed a tear from her face. “We left you about two weeks ago.”

“Huh.” It took a week to reach the Tree. So he’d been imprisoned for about a week. Not the worst, all things considered, but too long for Varian to be locked up.

“Are you okay?” Rapunzel asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re hurt, too. And the amber—”

“I’m okay.” He forced a smile. “I’ve had worse. This is nothing compared to the time I dropped a weight and broke my foot when I was managing negotiations with the Silvanian Kingdom. I was working the negotiations alone, so I didn’t tell anyone and I stood there for six hours on a broken foot.”

Rapunzel gasped, her eyes flying wide. Hector kept talking past the twinge in his ribs, offering up stories of his pre-exilic days. Just like with Varian, the chatter seemed to relax her, and she propped her head up on her fist as she listened. Her eyes never left his face as he raked through every (non-frightening) tale he could remember. Moon and stars, she was so much like Varian. Another child who had been thrust into a war that wasn’t hers and saddled with too much responsibility. And, like Varian, a child who had made too many mistakes and was paying for them. A child who had been betrayed by the adults she should have been able to count on.

Hector talked until her eyes started to flutter shut and she yawned. “Go to sleep, Rubia,” he ordered. “Sounds like that fight took a lot outta ya.”

“I’m—” She yawned again. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah, sure. Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Her gaze flitted down to Varian and back up. “Wake me up if anything happens.”

“Vale.” He gave a small grin at her confused expression. “’Kay.”

She curled up beside Varian, using her hair to cover them both like a blanket. Within minutes, her breathing had shifted, and Hector nodded, satisfied.

Without Edmund to keep him down, he dragged himself up against the railing, acid rising in his throat as he glimpsed the forest far below. Backing away quickly, he steeled his core and refocused his center of gravity. When he was sure he could move without vomiting, he started toward the bow. Ruddiger, who had been curled by Adira’s feet, jumped up and crawled up Hector’s leg. Hector caught him, settling him in his arms. “He’s okay, rat. Just needs a nice long nap. He’s gonna be fine.” Standing near Adira, he leaned on the railing.

His hand got too close to hers, apparently, and she jumped, a wordless growl in her throat. Hector backed up. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Adira winced. “M’ soleiv. I didn’t see you.”

The sharp wind rushed through his hair, whipping it around his face. He pulled his braids back, moving slowly. Adira reached into a pocket and pulled out a hair tie, handing it to him wordlessly. He gave a grunt of thanks and tied his hair up. “’Dira. What happened?”

“The princess already told you,” she answered, avoiding his eyes.

“She told me what she saw. What about you? You followed him.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I did. I… wasn’t fast enough.”

Wasn’t fast enough? Adira, who outran horses, who could almost rival his speed at combat, wasn’t fast enough to catch one child?

Steeling herself, she crossed her arms behind her back. “The Tree was collapsing,” she continued. “I tried to reach Varian, but my path was blocked with rubble. I had to go around. When I found him, he was trying to protect the princess. He got hit and fell from the window.” She gritted her teeth together. “Because I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t enough. Rapunzel went after him. I had to find my way down to them. When I got there, Varian was unconscious. So was the thief.”

Hector frowned. “Huh?”

A small hint of pride sparked in Adira’s eyes. “Her armor was shattered. I suspect the Sundrop’s doing. She was at the foot of the Tree, like someone had thrown her.”

Hector gave a low whistle. “Good for her. Sounds like someone decided to start taking this seriously.”

Adira nodded. Then she lowered her head again. “Elys m’ hveath.”

Hector noted the switch to formal register. “For what?”

“I saw her unconscious. I could have taken the Moonstone from her. I didn’t. She was starting to wake, so I took Varian and ran.”

“There is no shame in that. You protected Varian. She could’ve killed him.”

“And is he not in worse danger if she keeps the stone? He’s the one she wants. I could have ended this.”

“Or you coulda gotten you and him both killed.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, looking out at the forest. “Or maybe I made yet another decision that will hurt us later. That seems to be my specialty.”

“Adira, you’re not—“

“Don’t. I don’t want your pity, Hector.” She gave him a cold look. “I’m not a child for you to console. I want to apologize for risking Varian’s life and failing to protect him. Elys m’ hveath.”

“Elyssh hveath noven.” He nodded. “I don’t know I woulda done any different. Don’t worry about it now. We’ll handle whatever happens next.”

“What happens next? We’ve lost to her twice now. We aren’t prepared for a fight like this. All our skill and training meant nothing out there. We spent years learning to be the best, and it meant nothing.”

Hector shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I think we’re past the whole ‘fighting alone’ thing, though. That ain’t working. If your Sundrop is finally ready to stand up and hit back, we may need her.”

Adira raised a brow. “That’s mature of you to admit.”

“Ah, shaddup. I still don’t like her. But she’s not as bad as the thief. And she’s trying to do better by Var.” He scowled, looking out over the edge of the forest to keep from looking down. “Which way we headed?”

“I don’t know yet. Let me talk to Fishskin.” She pulled herself away from the railing, taking a steadying breath before turning back to where Lance and Eugene were working over one of the burners. Edmund was already by their side, but Quirin was still nowhere to be seen, likely below.

Hector stretched as best he could and sat down in the middle of the deck, finally releasing Ruddiger with a quick reminder of caution. Kiki and Riki settled beside him, and he sank against their warm bodies. Kubwa hovered nearby, as unhappy about their method of travel as Hector was. Despite the temptation to sink into sleep, Hector forced his eyes open. He’d promised to keep an eye out. The two children hadn’t moved, still curled up under piles of hair.

Adira returned moments later. “You won’t like it,” she warned.

“Just tell me already. Anything’s better than the Tree.”

“We’re going to Corona. We’ve got permission from Her Majesty.”

Hector’s heart sank. “I take it back. Turn this boat around.”

“We need help, Hector.” She sat cross-legged beside him, running one hand through Kiki’s fur. “We need rest and medical attention. Varian needs some time to recover. It was— this last week wasn’t easy for any of us, especially not him. He’s taking it hard.”

“So we’re taking him back to the kingdom that did all this to him in the first place?”

“We’ll be under royal protection. And he’ll have us with him at all times. Edmund will be there, as well. It’s the best place for us right now. We’ll keep out of trouble and come up with a new plan. But we can’t keep doing the same thing over and over again. It’s not working.”

Hector groaned and leaned his head back. “Fine. But just for a few days. I ain’t staying, and neither is he.”

“I can’t argue with that.” With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes. “I need to meditate.”

“Go for it. I got nothing better to do than sit here. I’ll keep an eye out.”

The ship turned slightly in the sky, nose pointed toward the one place on earth neither Hector nor Varian wanted to see again. Though he burned to do something about it, to grab the helm and force them to land somewhere else, he forced himself to sit still. Varian needed rest and medicine. He wouldn’t get either out here. Though how much he could get in Corona, Hector wasn’t sure. But Adira was right about at least one thing: what they were doing wasn’t working. The hunt was over. The prey had outsmarted the predators. And if they kept trying, the next time they fought her, they could lose far more than a week locked away in a cell.

O‴O‴O‴

The airship landed in the courtyard in the twilight of the following evening. Hector shuddered and sat up, blinking back a wave of dizziness. Varian didn’t react beyond a soft hum when Quirin touched his shoulder lightly and told him they’d arrived. The weary party stumbled to their feet, making their way single file off the ship. Varian clung to Hector’s cloak to steady himself, but he didn’t let go once his feet were on solid ground.

Hector looked around. The courtyard was wisely cleared out, and only Her Majesty and the captain stood waiting. The captain had changed from his gold-toned uniform to a more subdued red formal uniform, and Hector gave him a respecting nod.

Queen Arianna approached quickly. “My friends. Quickly, inside. We’ve already prepared space in the infirmary. King Edmund, could you show Hector’s companions to their accommodations?”

He gave a graceful bow. “Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll join my knights shortly.”

Hector scratched the bearcats’ ears. “Go with Edmund,” he ordered. They hissed at the command but reluctantly peeled away from Hector’s side, following the king. Kubwa trundled after them after sniffing Hector’s hair once as if smelling for a hidden injury. Impossible that he should have any of those; after snapping out of his shock, Quirin had been ruthless about ensuring each person had received appropriate medical care. He left Adira to tend to herself with a stern word that she was to overlook nothing, but Hector hadn’t been allowed the same consideration, so he’d submitted to Quirin’s medical check.

Rapunzel led them straight to the infirmary through a side door and narrow hall. Probably to avoid guard patrols. Inside the infirmary, Hector looked around, noting the empty beds and wide swinging windows. Low to the ground, not a very defensible position, but the windows had thick glass and heavy locks, along with wooden shutters that could be barred from the inside. He motioned Varian to one of the beds.

“’M already bandaged,” Varian protested.

“That was a field bandage. You need something more stable.”

Adira began rooting through one of the cabinets. “I agree with Hector, though I’ll be handling this myself. Princess, can you keep your medics out for the time being?”

“I’ll let them know,” Rapunzel answered. “But they’ll have to come back if we get any more patients.”

“Fine. We’ll be quick.”

Rapunzel gestured to an empty cabinet, where Quirin began storing their bags. “Stay in here for a few days, if you can. At least until my dad calms down. I’m no medic, but I recommend bedrest. I’ll bring you anything you need, and we’ll get some rooms set up for you.”

“We’re much obliged, princess,” Quirin answered softly. “And we thank you for your help.”

“Well.” She shrugged. “I owe you all a lot more than this. I’ll go check on Mom. She’s probably telling Dad you’re here. He wasn’t too happy when I told him where I was going.”

“Do you need me to come with you?”

She gave a grim smile and shook her head. “No, but thanks. Just stay and rest. I’ll come back in a few minutes with some soup. And cupcakes. And I’ll see if Attila has any cookies.” She wandered away, muttering to herself about everything she needed to find. Quirin sighed and shook his head, offering Hector a bemused smile. At this rate, she would come back with a full picnic.

Hector collapsed on one of the beds, kicking his shoes off and nudging them under the frame. “Don’t know about you lot, but bedrest sounds nice. Wake me when something bad happens.”

Quirin hummed disapprovingly. “You can sleep when you’ve been checked over.”

“I’ve been checked over a dozen times already.”

“That’s what I said,” Varian complained, crossing his arms.

Ah, crap. “On second thought, yeah, actual medicine might be a good idea. Adira, they got any painkillers?” Varian shot him a betrayed look, but Hector didn’t budge. “I think they got a shower in that back room. I’m gonna go get cleaned up, then we’ll redo the bandaging. Varian, you’re next.”

“Traitor,” Varian hissed under his breath.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Adira shot a stern glare at Quirin. “We’re rechecking you, too. Don’t think I forgot you cracked a few.”

Quirin sat on Varian’s bed, bowing his head. “Listen. All of you. We need to decide what to do next.”

“What’s there to do?” Hector grumbled. “We gotta stick with the mission.”

“I know. But we need to decide how. We can’t keep running after Cassandra like this.”

“I agree,” Adira said as she located the bottle she was looking for and set it on a countertop. “I don’t see any way that ends well. We’re outmatched.”

Hector groaned. “Do I gotta say it?”

“I think we’re all thinking it,” Quirin answered.

Varian finally broached the topic Hector wanted to avoid. “She’s coming to Corona eventually,” he whispered. “That’s been her goal this whole time. She said she was getting ready to travel this way. We… We have to stay, don’t we?”

Quirin took Varian’s hand. “We don’t ‘have’ to do anything. If we choose to stay, it’s because we agreed on it, as a family. If we choose to leave and hunt her again, it’ll be our choice. Staying in Corona could be dangerous. But it could also be our wisest course of action.”

Adira gripped the edge of the counter. “We’ve been running in circles for weeks. Doing the same things over and over. I’m sick of it. And we always end up back here. I vote we stay. Let her come to us.”

Hector glanced over to Varian. “Whaddya say, kid? We can stay, or we can go. We’ll only stay if everyone agrees, so don’t let us pick for you. You say to go, we go.”

Varian drew his knees up to his chest. “What do you think we should do?”

“Ain’t about what I think, kid. What do you want to do?”

“I—“ Varian bit his lip. “I’m just… I’m so tired. It’s not safe to stay here. But it’s not safe anywhere anymore. She can find me anywhere. Like Aunt Adira said, she’s coming here anyway. We might as well stay.” He gave a bitter laugh, curling up further. “Not like they can throw me in jail, at least, now that I’ve got a pardon.”

“Quirin?”

Quirin nodded, running his thumb over Varian’s knuckles.

Hector sighed. His was the deciding vote, then. Every instinct in him screamed to snatch up Varian and run, to spirit him far away from these gilded halls and accusing stares and ghastly shadows of the past, away from the hollow beauty and mockery of hospitality. He wanted to take his child far from here, somewhere where Corona would be nothing more than a distant memory and where the Moonstone thief could never find him. But the world outside was no safer for him. Where could they go where Cassandra wouldn’t find them, where the mission wouldn’t haunt them? She would always have people like the Yellowjackets to do her dirty work for her, to hunt Varian down. People who wouldn’t hesitate to kidnap a child or burn a village to find some musty scrolls. There would always be guards like David, who would see a child riddled with scars and feel the need to add one more. There would always be magic and people who would use it for evil. And there would always be a tattoo on the back of Varian’s hand, one that Hector had put there himself. There would always be the mission.

“’Kay,” he answered, twisting his braids between his fingers. “Guess it’s settled, then.”

For better or worse, they were stuck in Corona.

Chapter Text

The vines crept up his throat, tracing sharp edges along his cheekbones in a mockery of gentle fingers. They wrapped around his neck, around his immobile wrists, crushing his chest. Golden tendrils, growing thicker, covering his mouth and pressing him into the stone floor. Grating laughter echoed from nowhere. “Foolish moonchild.”

Hector jolted awake, snatching his dagger from under his pillow and taking a ragged inhale. Doubling over as the pain in his ribs flared, he hissed softly, scanning the room for a threat. A small lump in the bed beside him; that would be Varian, still fast asleep. The bed beyond him was empty, the sheets straightened neatly; Quirin had insisted they keep watch and had been just as adamant that neither Hector nor Varian were allowed to take a shift. He would be in the hallway, directly in front of the door. One of the windows was open, the curtains swaying lazily in the warm breeze. Hector had ensured every one was fastened before he agreed to sleep.

Adira sat on the bed beside the open window, legs crossed and hair loose around her shoulders.

“Did we do the right thing?” she asked softly, eyes closed and head tilted slightly back.

Hector put his dagger away. “Heck if I know.” With a sigh, he swung his legs over the edge and sat up straighter. “Honestly, ‘Dira, I don’t think there is a right decision here. No matter what we do, it’s going to cost us. We’ve never faced a threat like this before.” He shuddered and bowed his head. “I haven’t been this scared since I was a kid.”

There was a time in their lives when she would have mocked him ruthlessly for the admission, citing “older sister privilege” or some crap. That time was past. She gave a slow nod. “Me neither.”

He scoffed. “Look at us. Last scions of the Order of the Brotherhood, the strongest and fiercest warriors our kingdom ever knew. And here we are, hiding in an infirmary because of one half-grown twit who got too big for her helmet.”

“It’s not her that’s the problem,” Adira answered sagely. “I’ve put her on the ground before, and I’ll do it again. It’s the Moonstone. The very thing we swore our loyalty to is the thing that’s killing us. We have no idea what a human host is capable of. I mean, the Sundrop used to be a flower, for stars’ sake. It wasn’t going around tearing down fortresses.”

“Loyalty,” Hector scoffed. “I’m starting to question that word.”

Adira opened one eye and looked at him. “I’m surprised at you.”

“We’re loyal to the Moonstone. What’s that mean for us now? Your precious Sundrop is the princess. Does that make that thief the new Moondrop? Does fighting her equal disloyalty to our oath?”

“Never,” Adira hissed. “We swore to keep the Moonstone out of the wrong hands. Princess Rapunzel didn’t have a choice but to be born with her power. Short Hair chose to steal the stone. We owe her nothing, certainly not our loyalty. You have felt the rocks’ energy. The very essence of the stone cries out in injustice. It hates her as much as we do.”

“Maybe more. Least she ain’t forcing us to do her bidding.” He lay back down, pulling the blanket back up over his shoulders. “Get some sleep. Quir’s still on watch.”

Adira stood and shut the window. The heavy shutters settled over the glass, the bar sliding into place. “I don’t think I’ll sleep well for a very long time.”

O‴O‴O‴

The fire crackled, licking over the crumpled paper greedily. Arianna groaned and rested her forehead on the desk as another attempt went up in flames. Nigel sighed and set another paper down in front of her. “Again.”

“We’ve been at this for ages.” She rubbed her eyes. The curtains pulled over the window blocked the light of the moon, and only the firelight and lamps illuminated the paper before her. Her eyes stung from working over her script in the dim light, but the daytime provided no opportune moment for her to practice.

“It’s been forty-five minutes, Your Majesty. Again.”

Picking up her quill pen, she bit her lip and traced the point along the paper. Periodically checking the completed note in front of her to recall the words she was to write, she forced a sharper edge to her letters. The process was painstaking, comparing each letter to the official document that Nigel held. She scanned the document for the letters she needed, taking care not to let the pen sit on the paper too long lest the ink bleed. Finally, she set the quill in its holder and pushed the paper forward.

Nigel picked it up, scanning the words with a twitch of his mustache. Then he crumpled the paper. It, too, went into the fire. “Again.”

“What was wrong with that one?”

“Too narrow, still. Widen your letters, don’t form your loops so low, and don’t trail the edges of your crosses upward.”

“I feel like I’m being tutored again,” she grumbled. “You’re more strict than my teachers ever were.”

He raised a brow. “Your teachers weren’t trying to save your life, Your Majesty. Now, again. We will do this until it is right.” He set yet another offending paper before her.

She dipped the quill in the inkwell and began again. 

O‴O‴O‴

Morning sunlight filtered past the curtains, dancing across Varian’s eyelids. He blinked slowly, registering the solid presence sitting beside him. Quirin’s energy was warmer than Hector’s, less sharp storm and more sunbaked bricks and deep roots and the crisp scent of apples and a fierce protectiveness. And somewhere beneath it all, toward the center of his energy signature, lay a deep well of grief, shielded by thick walls so Varian could only briefly glimpse the edge before the sensation nudged him away and back into safer ground.

Quirin hummed softly. “Morning, son.”

“Dad?” Varian rasped. A cough rattled his chest, tears stinging his eyes as his ribs and head protested. Quirin caught his shoulder and helped him sit up, reaching for a glass of water on the bedside table. Varian took slow sips, wincing at the effort it took.

“Easy there.” Quirin readjusted the pillows behind his back. “Don’t push yourself.”

He looked around the unfamiliar room. “We’re… in Corona?”

“Yes. We arrived last night.”

“Oh.” He supposed he could remember the ship landing, could remember stumbling after Hector with his fists clenched in his uncle’s cloak. And he remembered agreeing to stay.

Quirin took the glass and set it back down. “Do you need more pain medicine?”

Varian shook his head. The ache had begun to fade already, just a dull throbbing. He leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. “I really hate broken ribs.”

The well of grief in Quirin’s presence grew a little bigger, pressing through the walls he kept it behind. “I know. You could’ve died back there. If you weren’t part of the Brotherhood, maybe you would’ve.”

“Huh?”

He turned his face away, closing his eyes. “The Moonstone protects her own,” he said softly. “Grants us some measure of shielding. It’s not invincibility, as I’m sure you’re aware, and it’s not immortality. We can still be hurt or killed. But she gives us strength.”

Varian blinked up at him. “Do you… Is that maybe why you and Uncle Hector both survived? The amber, I mean.”

“It’s a possibility. We were trapped without air.”

Panic rose in Varian’s chest. “I could’ve killed you.”

“Don’t.” Quirin leveled a stern glare at him. “Don’t do that.”

“If you weren’t part of the Brotherhood—”

“If I wasn’t part of the Brotherhood, I would’ve handled the situation more calmly. I let my fear and grief blind me. You wouldn’t have felt the need to go behind my back, because I would have worked with you.” Quirin’s shoulders slumped. “I made many mistakes. But I can’t bring myself to regret trying to keep you from this life. Perhaps I did wrong. My actions—or inactions—have caused you pain I never wished for you to feel. But I worry you’re in more danger now than you ever were before. Every time you get hurt, I wonder if I could have prevented it. Just since we’ve had each other again, you’ve had your elbow dislocated and were nearly killed in an unfair duel, you were kidnapped twice, and now you’ve got three fractured ribs and a concussion. That’s not even counting everything that happened to you before you freed me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t keep you from this, I know. But I’m your father. It’s my duty and my honor to keep you safe. Everything that hurts you hurts me, because it means I failed.”

“Dad—” Varian coughed again. Quirin handed him the glass back. Once his throat was clear, he pressed on, “I’m not trying to get hurt, you know. And you got hurt, too. It’s not your fault. I was involved anyway. I was always going to try to help. And he was always going to try to stop me. And Cassandra would’ve found out about the scroll eventually.”

“I know. I know. Just—we’ve got a few weeks before she gets here, if we’re lucky. We need to rest and recover. Prom—swear to me, Varian. Swear you’ll try to be a little more selfish from now on. You don’t have to save everyone all the time. Sometimes it’s okay to save yourself.”

Varian gave a dry laugh. “I’m a knight know. Pretty sure part of my oath was protecting others.”

“That doesn’t include princesses with magical unbreakable hair.” Despite his solemn tone, his lips twitched in a small smile.

“’Kay, fair enough. She can protect herself.” Varian held up a hand placatingly. “Man, that was pretty stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking she was in danger, and you wanted to help. That’s no crime, and it’s not stupid. You’ve got a heart bigger than all Corona. You always have. Just make room in that heart for you, alright?”

Varian gave a shaky nod, brushing his wrist across his eyes. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask. I love you, son.”

“I love you, Dad.”

The door at the end of the room swung open. Varian flinched, and Quirin reached for the sword strapped to his back. In the bed next to Varian, Hector shot up with wild eyes, unsheathing the blade he hadn’t bothered to take off and pointing it toward the newcomers. In the doorway, Lance froze, two girls by his side. Varian relaxed slightly as Catalina and Keira slipped past Lance into the room, but Hector didn’t lower his sword until Quirin gave a pointed cough. He shook his head slightly and twisted his wrist. Varian sat up straighter and frowned. Hector looked dreadful, his braids coming undone and his eyes still unfocused.

“Strongbow,” Quirin greeted with a nod. “Ladies. If you’ll excuse us a moment.” He stood and took Hector’s arm, gently pulling him from the bed and over to the window. Hector followed placidly, leaning on him.

Keira and Catalina rushed over to the bed, climbing on with surprising gentleness. “Varian! We missed you!” Catalina exclaimed.

He tilted his head. “Why?”

Keira rolled her eyes. “’Cause you’re our friend, stupid.”

“O-Oh. ‘Kay.” 

“So where have you been?” Catalina demanded impatiently, flopping across the foot of the bed and propping her chin in her hands. “Dad said he went to something called the Great Tree, and that you used to live there. Was it like a giant treehouse?”

“Um… something like that. I lived inside it. It’s bigger than this whole castle! And there were rooms full of old scrolls, and a training room with an obstacle course, and my room had crystals on the ceiling.” Their eyes lit up as he described the Tree, each detail as he remembered it before its destruction. It came to life through memory, standing tall and proud against the mountains, a haven for creatures and weary souls.

“That’s so cool,” Catalina breathed quietly. “We’ve got a treehouse, too! Not as cool as yours, though.”

“Well, it’s significantly less cool when it’s trying to kill you.”

“Bummer,” Keira grumbled. “Hey, can you teach us how to use your swords?”

“Uh—”

Lance saved him from having to answer. “That’s enough, girls. Give him some space.” He shooed them away and sat on the bed next to Varian’s. When the girls were out of earshot, their attention drawn to a plump raccoon sunning himself in a window, Lance leaned forward and crossed his arms. “I got something I thought you’d want to see. Remember those scrolls Adira left here? Well, I got most of them translated. I haven’t told Rapunzel or Eugene yet. Wanted you to see it first.”

Varian winced as he sat up straighter. Lance moved forward to help him readjust the pillows. “What— ow. What did you find?”

He held up two pieces of paper. “This is the original, and here’s what I wrote. Tell me if that looks right.”

He studied the scripts. Lance had done a good job; if Varian had had to translate from scratch, it would have taken a bit, but a brief glance showed that everything seemed to line up well. He scanned Lance’s copy. “An eclipse?”

He nodded somberly. “A full solar eclipse. I asked Rapunzel—you know, she studies astronomy—and I didn’t tell her why; I just told her I wanted to know for the girls. The next total eclipse is in a few months. And during the eclipse, the Sundrop will be vulnerable, if I understood that word right.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Vulnerable.” He traced the coded script with one finger. “But it doesn’t say how?”

“Not that I could find. I was hoping you’d had better luck. If this is what Cassandra was looking for, then I’m worried she may try to go after Rapunzel. Not that she can’t take care of herself, of course!” he amended quickly. “She’s a tough cookie. But…” He trailed off, staring over to the window.

“But we don’t know what Cassandra is capable of,” Varian answered. He wrapped his arms around his chest. The Cassandra he knew—that they all knew—was dead. The armored stranger who had taken her place was a new threat, a threat that couldn’t be reasoned with or bargained with. The only safe course was to stop her; but of course, they weren’t having much luck with that, either. Would she kill Rapunzel if given the chance? Would she tear down the kingdom she had devoted her life to protecting? Or would she restrain herself, allow the memories of friendship to soften her actions? Maybe allow Rapunzel to live as long as she didn’t try to stop her?

They had no way to know. Even his week of close proximity to Cassandra hadn’t given him insight into what she would do if pushed. There wasn’t much pushing he could do at that time without retaliation. All they could do now was prepare for the worst.

“You should tell Rapunzel,” Varian advised, handing the papers back. “She needs to know.”

“She needs to know her best friend may try to kill her,” Lance echoed, voice gravelly. “How do you break the news of something like that?”

“After the fight they just had?” Rocks shattering, the force of a sun dropped from the sky, overwhelming darkness closing in on all sides and threatening to suffocate anyone it encountered—and in the middle, two former friends, ready to do anything to stop the other. It was all too familiar. “I don’t think she’ll be surprised.”

O‴O‴O‴

Hector ran his hands through his loose hair to hide the way they shook. Quirin’s worried eyes didn’t leave him, but he kept a few paces distance to give a semblance of privacy. Leaning against the window frame, Hector stared out at the bushes. The castle wall wasn’t far, a quick sprint from the infirmary. He could be over the wall and into the town proper before Quirin could stop him, and from there it was a twenty-minute run— maybe thirty, considering his ribs— to get to the bridge and off the island. One quick stop to grab his boys from the stables, and he could be gone.

But he’d agreed to stay. And he had to keep his word.

Even if he wanted to claw at his skin, give voice to the howl building in his throat, hide away in the woods with naught but his animals and his kid where no one would ever find him again. Varian needed rest and healing, and he couldn’t do that if they were still on the hunt. The exhaustion in his eyes had grown worse, until his sky-blue iris was almost as dull as his clouded one. For Varian, Hector would stay.

He began twisting his hair into braids, listening to the chatter of the girls playing with Ruddiger and the conversation between Varian and Lance. Adira was out somewhere, probably scouting; unless she was meditating, she was worse at sitting still than he was. As she was the only uninjured member of the party, she would likely be getting a jump on reading the territory, finding escape routes, sizing up their biggest threats.

The door swung open again, and Hector whirled around. Quirin’s fingers latched around his wrist before he could draw his sword. “Cálmate.” Hector let his arm relax, and Quirin let him go. They watched as the princess and the Dark Prince flew in, bearing baskets of food.

“We brought breakfast!” Rapunzel called. “And a friend!”

Hector hissed sharply. Nestled in Eugene’s hands carefully was Artemis, one wing bound but otherwise no worse for wear. She canted her head in Hector’s direction, then Varian’s, and back to Hector with an accusing glare.

Stepping away from Quirin, he crossed the room and took the hawk. “There’s my girl,” he murmured lowly as he stroked the feathers along her head. “Thank you, Artemis. We owe you.”

She gave a short cry as if to say, “You certainly do.”

He gave Eugene a curt nod, the closest he could get to gratitude at the moment. Eugene seemed to understand, at least, and smiled graciously as he moved closer to Rapunzel’s side.

With this many people now in the room, it was far too crowded for Hector’s taste. With a low growl, he marched over to Varian, depositing Artemis gently onto the bed beside him. Then he pointed to Quirin. “Yssen gveth.”

“Fine,” Quirin answered. “Go find Adira.”

Hector left the infirmary, slamming the door behind him. He needed to get away, before the rising tide of panic in his chest threatened to drown him. If he coughed, would it spill from his throat like blood?

In his haste to get away, he didn’t notice the queen until he almost ran her over. He jerked to a stop, crossing his fist over his heart and giving what he hoped passed for a polite nod.

 She didn’t flinch back from him. With a wry smile, she noted, “We must stop meeting like this.”

“My apologies, Your Majesty. I was—” He fumbled for the right word. Distracted? Irritated? Panicking? Hard to say.

She didn’t seem to need him to say anything, though. With a knowing look, she ordered, “Follow me.” She turned and started back down the hallway. With nothing better to do, Hector obeyed.

She led him through the castle, passing servants who backed away from Hector like he might kill them with a glance. He fought the urge to hunch in on himself, holding himself straight with his arms crossed behind his back the way Edmund had drilled into him from childhood. He was the threat here, not these Coronans. He was a deadly blade honed to perfection, and he had to hold that knowledge close to his heart lest he strike out wrongly. It came with a certain type of awareness, a way to sheath himself so he was safely placed away and not a danger while still allowing everyone to see him and know exactly what he was.

The queen moved through the halls briskly, her skirts swishing around her ankles as she walked with a calm focus. She smiled and nodded to people as she passed but stopped to speak to no one, and no one bothered her. Hector kept his gaze fixed on the golden pin holding her hair in place. She swept open a doorway and finally slowed to a stop, turning to look at him. He followed her in and closed the door behind him, noting the tall windows and the door set on the other side of the room. Between him and it sat several rows of bookshelves, stretching toward the ceiling and stacked with more volumes than he had seen in his life. A sitting area formed a semi-circle around a fireplace in the corner to the right, low settees and armchairs upholstered in fine leather and velvet with dark oak tables in between them.

Arianna’s controlled mask fell, and she took a step toward Hector before catching herself. “Hardly anyone comes here,” she informed him. “You’ll have some time to yourself. This library is far from the more populated areas of the castle.”

Hector nodded, words sticking in his throat. How did Corona have such a wise queen while their king was as inept as he was egotistical? With a pained awareness, though, he took a step back from her. “Mi reina— perdone. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have— I’ve threatened your reputation.” Everyone they had passed had seen him following her, and some doubtless knew where they were going. He, an enemy of Corona and now a tolerated guest, had put the queen in a delicate situation, both with her citizens and with her husband.

She gave a sharp look. “How so? All anyone saw was me escorting a guest to the library. They’ll tell the king, since they’re all still skeptical, but it’s common enough for me to accompany guests. It’s an expected duty.” Her brows knit. “I can stay and talk with you, or I can give you space. Just tell me what you need.”

  “I—” His eyes glanced around, searching for any sign of movement, any threat. Despite his instinct to be alone, her presence didn’t irritate him the way everyone except his family did. “If you can.”

“Very well. I’ll stay unless you explicitly tell me to go.” She made her way over to the sitting area, choosing an armchair with her back to the closest door. Hector followed, sitting across from her so he could see the entryway. At this angle, he would also be able to see if anyone opened the other one.

“You aren’t at peace here,” the queen said. “I’m sorry. I know bringing you here was a risky thing to do. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“I’m not the one at risk,” he refuted. Away from people and with clear instructions to follow, his breathing calmed. “We’ve put you and your people in danger by being here.”

“From what I’ve gathered, we were already in danger.”

“Not from us,” he answered bitterly. “Your Majesty, I respect your wisdom, but you brought wolves into your kingdom. You have wolves of your own, you know, but most of your people are defenseless sheep. Uh, no offense.”

“And do you consider yourself a danger to my people?”

“I’m a danger to anyone,” he answered candidly. “I have to be. It comes with the job.”

Her lips quirked in a small smile. “I seem to recall Quirin living here for some twenty years without hurting anyone.”

“Quirin isn’t me. And I’m no farmer.”

“No, you’re not.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands and giving him a scrutinizing stare. Hector tried not to flinch. She studied him, as cold and calculating as she had been the first time they met. Like before, she was searching for something, weighing him on her scales. “What are you, Hector?”

“I… don’t know what you want me to say.”

Leaning back, she tapped her fingernails against the arm of her chair. “As a whole, I find people very simple to understand. It comes with being a politician, I suppose. The only person I ever read wrong was my husband. And now, because of that, my daughter is going to lose her father. Whether because I will eventually depose him, or because he’ll cross a line that she can’t pretend not to see. But you, Hector, I don’t understand. I trust you, yes: I wouldn’t have sent Varian with you if I didn’t. But I don’t understand you. I can’t tell if you’re going to be this kingdom’s saving grace or if you’re going to raze it to the ground. You have good reason to hate this place for what happened to your family. But you’ve also allowed me your friendship and made an alliance with my daughter, even if just out of necessity. So, I ask again, what are you?”

“I’m a soldier. A knight.”

“Quirin is a soldier and a knight. And you’re not Quirin. My kingdom has many knights.”

Something in her stern challenge compelled him to voice the truth. Had he not already been considering it, even as he followed at her heels like a loyal dog? “I’m a weapon. A sword.”

“Is that why you consider yourself dangerous to us?”

“It has nothing to do with what I think. I’ve always known this. Since King Edmund took me in, I was raised to be this. A blade kept in a scabbard until someone needs me. I’m sorry if I’m not what you expected. But you need a soldier, Your Majesty, not a politician. I am not made for marble halls and old libraries. I was made for the battlefield. I am not gentle like my brother.”

Her gaze softened, not in pity but in understanding. “And what does a weapon do when there’s no war? They taught you to fight but never taught you how to stop.”

“I’m very good at what I do.” He tensed, hands curling into fists. “I trust Your Majesty’s wisdom, but inviting us back here was dangerous. You have no proof I’m not a threat to you or to your people. I killed three unarmed men because they tried to kidnap my nephew, and I smiled while I did it. I’m a murderer. I cut your husband’s eye out. Do you think he forgot that?” He stood, shaking his head slowly. “You never should have brought me here.”

She blushed in anger. Rising to her feet, she answered, “Do not presume to tell me whom I can or cannot welcome into my kingdom. You call me wise, but you speak to me as if I’m a fool. Would you ever strike me?”

He took a step back, the question stinging. “Of course not!”

“Would you ever raise your hand against Varian in anger? Or against any innocent citizen of my kingdom?”

“Never!”

“Then I have no reason to fear you. You are responsible for your actions, no one else.” She pointed her finger in his face. The gesture was so unqueenly, so heated, that he took another step back. “Your choices are your own. You are not a weapon; you are a human. I watched you carry that boy’s broken body away, and you nursed him to health and taught him how to fight. I asked you to spare my husband, despite your right to take his life, and you did. That young girl who brought Artemis to us described you as a hero because you saved her entire village. I am no fool, Hector. I know you are dangerous, but you are not a threat to anyone who isn’t a threat to you or your family. I brought you here because you needed help. Would you disrespect my kindness by hurting the people I’m responsible for?”

“I—” He forced his fists to uncurl, measuring his words carefully. The queen would accept nothing less, no careless word spoken or accusation thrown. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I meant no disrespect to you or to your kindness. We owe you more than we can repay. We’ll obey the laws of your land as long as we can do so safely, and my blade will be at your command.”

Her expression pinched. Folding her hands calmly, she answered, “No, please forgive me. I shouldn’t have pressed so hard. I brought you to the library to give you space to rest, and I’ve caused you more distress. My first responsibility is to my people and their safety, but I also bear a responsibility to the Brotherhood as my honored guests. I’m not asking you to dedicate your blade to me. Your help, yes, when the time comes. But I don’t need you to be another weapon in my arsenal. I need you as my friend and, eventually, a political ally. And…” She sighed, eyes narrowing. “As your friend, let me compel you to think about what I’ve said. You are not a mindless object, Hector. Your choices are yours. Only you can decide what you do— and you will have to live with the consequences.” With a graceful nod, she spread her hands, gesturing to the room around them. “You are welcome in Corona, as long as your choices lead to no harm. Rest, recover, and tend to your family.”

Hector crossed his fist over his heart, giving a low bow. His stomach twisted at her words, at the way they cut deeper than any wound he’d received from an enemy. “Then, my queen, I offer you my friendship. I will consider your words.” Striding past her, he reached for the door handle. Pausing, he gave a sharp glance over his shoulder. “But you need to consider as well. You can hang a sword above your mantle as a decoration, but you can’t change what it is by nature. And if it falls, it could still hurt someone. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find my sister.”

Pulling the door open, he strode out, leaving behind the refuge of the library and the cutting words of the Coronan queen. 

Chapter Text

Varian set his bag down in a corner of his new room, close enough to the window to grab and bolt if he needed to. The suite Rapunzel had found for them, taking Quirin’s requests into consideration, was a four-bedroom setup on the third floor but with an easy exit from a balcony overlooking a second-floor sun parlor. The four bedrooms split off from a small drawing room, two on each side lined against each other like a long caterpillar, and each bedroom had a small water closet with basic amenities. No hot water, though, Varian noted wryly. If he ever got back to the Dark Kingdom, he’d consider picking that project back up. Maybe.

His room was to the left of the common room, with Hector to the room on his left and Quirin and Adira on the other side. Quirin had probably set them up that way to keep Hector and Adira from bickering into all hours of the night. Varian couldn’t complain about the placement, just satisfied to have a room to himself. He didn’t begrudge the closeness to his family, but after a week trapped in a cell with them, he lauded the thought of some personal space.

Rapunzel knocked on the doorframe. “So, what do you think?”

He shrugged. “Fancy. A lot fancier than I’m used to.”

“It takes some time to adjust. I still remember when they showed me my room. I felt like I could explore for hours!” She ran her hand over the polished doorframe. “Sometimes, it still doesn’t feel real. I feel like I’ll wake up and be back in the tower. With— with her.” Her bright smile fell.

Varian nodded. After this, he’d be lucky to sleep without dreaming of the Tree. “Do you, uh— sorry, you don’t have to answer. But… do you still get nightmares? Do they ever go away?”

With a small scoff, she answered, “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

He gave a dry smile. “Sounds like a plan.” With a shuddering breath, he ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know how to live like this. I feel like I’m suffocating, all the time.”

“Yeah,” she said softly.

“How am I supposed to live with it?”

“One day at a time, I guess. The pain doesn’t really go away. We just… learn to live around it.”

“Live around it,” he echoed.  

She blinked, eyes unfocused over a sad smile. “I’m sorry. I hate that you have to be here. I’ll do anything I can to help. Dad’s angry— no surprise there— but he won’t make a scene. Mom says his pride is more important to him. He has to pretend he allowed you to come here.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Varian answered, finding with a shock that it was true. Frederic, for all his evil and cruelty, had no more power over him. He’d lost his grip, his chance, and his eye, thanks to Hector. It didn’t take the pain away. It didn’t make it any easier to breathe, trapped inside castle walls with that man. But like last time he’d confronted him, he wasn’t alone and vulnerable and chained. He wasn’t the same scared child Frederic had abused.

Rapunzel stepped closer, hand hovering slightly like she wanted to touch his shoulder but was reconsidering. Whatever she had been planning to say seemed to get lost, a quizzical quirk of her brows turning her expression to bemusement. “You got taller. I just noticed.”

He looked her in the eyes—he had, sometime, in between Hector fighting against his malnourishment and the rigorous training that had hardened his muscles. He would never reach his dad’s height, nor his uncle or aunt’s, but he had outgrown the Varian who had left Corona a year ago. “Huh. Guess so.”

She hesitated, and Varian searched for the words he needed, a thousand unspoken hurts and regrets lingering at the edge of his tongue. A thousand moments, a thousand challenges, days they couldn’t go back to and undo. The past was written in stone and couldn’t be remade. His skin couldn’t be unscarred, his eye unblinded. She couldn’t get her lost years back. The future stretched out bleak and threatening ahead of them. And in this moment, he had no words to try to make things right. Their apologies were spoken, a tentative line stretched across the chasm that divided them to serve as a guiding point for a new bridge. But still there lingered a hesitance, neither side sure if they were permitted to lay the first brick.

Rapunzel turned to go, and Varian took a step toward her. “Wait.”

She half-turned back, no mask of royal composure hiding the girl who wanted to make amends. This was simply Rapunzel, not the princess or the Sundrop.

“We, um…” Varian gripped his upper left arm, over the parallel scars. “Look, we both apologized to each other. And we meant it. And for a while, I thought that was enough. I thought we could— like, move on and forget it. But I guess it doesn’t work that way.” He winced at her crestfallen expression. “Uh, what I’m trying to say is—“ He huffed. “I— I don’t know how to put it into words, exactly, but I need to try. For a long time, I thought that forgiveness was this thing that happened along the way. Something that just happens when people start to heal. But then I thought about your— about the queen, and how she saved my life when I couldn’t even tell her how sorry I was for what I did to her. I didn’t know how she could do that. How she could forgive me like that. And I realized that maybe… forgiveness has to be a choice. I couldn’t forgive you when you first apologized to me. Or the second time. And I think I didn’t want to, even when you stood up to your dad, since I was still scared to trust you. But I’m tired of— of holding on. If forgiveness is a choice, I want to make that call. So, I forgive you. Elyssh hveath noven.”

As he spoke the words, his shoulders straightened, an unseen weight shifted away. Something he’d been clinging to, a reluctance that he carried like a shield, even when it weighed down on his arms until his muscles screamed. Had it ever really protected him at all? Or had it been an unneeded load he’d carried all this time, an illusion of protection that slowly poisoned him?

Her eyes clouded with tears. “How?” She asked softly. “I— why would you? After everything we— How?”

“I’m choosing to.”

She took a shaky breath and nodded. “I choose it, too. I forgive you, Varian.”

“Don’t say it unless you mean it,” he warned.

“I mean it. I forgive you. I should have said it a long time ago.” She gave a teary laugh. “It was easier than I thought it would be. Thank you. I don’t— I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Between my dad, and Zhan Tiri, and Cass… But I trust you, Varian. And I hope you’re able to trust me.”

He blinked quickly, looking down at the plush carpet. “I want to. You— you saved my family. So yeah. I trust you.” He looked up again, a stern glare coloring his expression. “I need to know that that’s not a mistake. Cassandra is coming. She will try to attack Corona. And Zhan Tiri is keeping her mad. You fought her at the Tree, and now she’ll want payback.”

“I know.” Rapunzel gave a sharp nod, brows lowered over narrow eyes. “I did what I had to. She was my best friend, Varian. I love her like a sister. What choice did I— What choice do I have?”

“Funny you should use that word. Rapunzel…” Varian gritted his teeth, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I talked to Cassandra while we were stuck at the Tree. She told me… her mother was Gothel.”

The blood drained from Rapunzel’s face, leaving her skin almost ivory in the light from the window. “What?”

“Gothel abandoned her. The day she kidnapped you. Turns out she wasn’t much of a mom to her, either, but Cassandra took it hard when she found out. I think Zhan Tiri told her.”

“And she believed her?” Rapunzel snapped, a dark blush of anger rising back to her face as she scowled. “It’s Zhan Tiri!”

“I know,” Varian whispered, shoulders hunched. Rapunzel needed to know, but he hated that it had to be him to tell her. But he couldn’t in good conscience hide something this important from her. Not if he was trying to trust her— and prove her trust in him. “She could be lying. But…”

“Probably not,” Rapunzel completed the thought, her anger draining as quickly as it had come. “She… I’m such a fool.” Like a marionette with cut strings, she collapsed onto the bed beside Varian, covering her face with her hands. “She looks just like her. Captain said he adopted her— twenty years ago.”

“There was no way you could’ve known,” Varian tried to offer, putting a hand on her shoulder and repressing the shudder that tried to steal into his bones at the contact.

Rapunzel let her hands fall to her lap, wringing her fingers. “Or maybe I really am as naïve as she said I was.” Her voice gave no inflection, as hollow and dead as the Tree.

“No!” he snapped, letting his hand fall from her shoulder. He took her hand instead, stopping her from worrying at her fingers. “Rapunzel, you couldn’t have known. ‘Kay? This isn’t your fault.”

She didn’t answer, staring down at the rug. Her eyes flooded with tears, breaking free and sliding down her freckled cheeks. When she collapsed, it was with slow and solemn torment, shrinking in on herself as if she couldn’t bear to be seen. Heavy sobs tore from her throat; a pained and laborious sound, as if she had had to relearn how to mourn after spending a lifetime shedding silent tears. She rocked back and forth, the fingers of her free hand twisting into the fabric of her dress. Varian kept his grip on her other hand, refusing to let go even as the tender scars along his fingers ached at the pressure. With no words left to offer comfort, he stayed by her side, letting her cling to him as her world was battered and wrecked by a storm he couldn’t see or feel with her.

When she tilted to the side, dropping her head to his shoulder, he brought one arm up around her, drawing her into a hug. She wept into his shirt, each tear a broken fragment of the life that had been torn to shreds before her eyes. He held her as she grieved, as her throat grew ragged and her sobs turned to coughs. Each broken sound was a knife to his heart, a reminder that he had caused her this pain. She had offered him her trust, and he had responded by telling her something he knew would tear her heart apart all over again. So he listened to her, taking in each expression of her agony and letting it sink deep into his chest. The shards twisted into something cold and deadly, a weapon forged from the pain Rapunzel felt, honed with the fire of his fury at Zhan Tiri and her willing pawn.

Because yes, he may have caused her this pain by telling her. But it was Zhan Tiri who drove a dagger in between Rapunzel and the girl she should have been able to call her sister. It was Cassandra who chose the path that the evil sorceress nudged her toward. It was Gothel who had ruined countless innocent lives, tearing families apart for her sick game. And Gothel was gone, long dissolved into the dust she’d come from, but both Zhan Tiri and Cassandra were still here, still causing heartache and chaos. They had hurt Rapunzel, the Brotherhood, Varian himself.

So if that was their game, then his game would be just as dangerous. He would avenge himself and his family, and he would avenge Rapunzel. Though Corona itself meant nothing to him, just a stain on his past he could move on from without a second guess, he had people here still to fight for.

And if there was only one thing Varian was good for, he was good for a fight.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector leaned back, soaking up the sensation of the warm breeze from the ocean. Far below the rooftop where he sat, bells clanked and men hollered and gulls screeched, a cacophony of noise set against a backing melody of the tide crashing against stone piers. Hector was no musician— he could sing, but primarily with the intent of annoying whoever happened to be stuck near him— but even he could acknowledge the beauty of the harbor song.

He tried (unsuccessfully) not to roll his eyes as Quirin settled beside him. “I didn’t see you leave,” the aggravating nuisance noted.

“If I’d’a wanted you to see me, you woulda seen me.”

“Stealth is Adira’s game, not yours. You’re only unseen when you’re planning to escape.” Quirin leaned back on his hands, letting his legs hang over the edge of the roof. Hector rolled his eyes again; there went a perfectly good hiding spot. “So, how many did you find?”

Releasing his annoyance, Hector tilted his head back again, closing his eyes. Though they’d traveled together for weeks, Quirin had rarely slipped from the Coronan accent he’d adopted, only when he was frustrated. Usually at Hector. But since they’d come to this unhallowed place, Quirin had let it go, likely on purpose, returning to the tonation that Hector was used to hearing from him. If he had to guess, it was probably to annoy the overblown airbag on the throne, to posture himself as no longer a Coronan citizen, or both.

“Six ways out from our rooms, another four from the main entrance, and I found seven servants’ passageways that we can use in case of an emergency. I checked them all today, and I’ll run them a few times tomorrow. Once I’m sure of them, I’ll get Varian to drill them.”

“Hector—“

“He needs to be able to do them in the dark. We’ll drill till he’s comfortable with them.”

“Hector,” Quirin growled more sternly. “We’re here now. We agreed to stay.”

“I know!” he snapped. “I ain’t a coward. But we gotta know how to get out if we need to. I ain’t putting Varian at risk.”

“We’re safer here than we are out hunting Cassandra.”

Hector scoffed, cutting a glare at Quirin as he sneered, “We were being chased by a lion and we hid in a serpents’ nest. That ain’t safe.” Shoving himself to his feet, he continued, “I’m used to being a predator. I don’t know how to run and hide. I’m suffocating, Quir.”

“We’re not hiding. We’re waiting. There’s a difference.”

“And we wouldn’t have ‘waited’ here if we didn’t get the crap kicked out of us at the Great Tree. Face it, Quirin. We lost, so we ran.”

Quirin started to reply, then sighed. “What can I do to help? How do I make this easier for you?”

He paced a few steps away. “Ain’t nothing you can do. We’re here now. I’ll deal with it.”

Even if it made him want to claw his skin off, just to get rid of the crawling feeling lurking underneath. He’d agreed to abide by the Brotherhood’s decision and had even thrown his vote in on the same side. But storms if he wasn’t regretting that decision already.

Quirin gave a sad smile. “Corona’s not all evil, you know. I lived here for years and saw the good in it. A part of my heart will always be here. And besides… I wasn’t alone.”

Hector just barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes a third time. “Is this going somewhere important?”

“Did you think I was the only one from the Dark Kingdom who came here?”

Hector’s head whipped around, and he nailed Quirin with a hard glare. “Explain.”

Quirin had the nerve to look smug, the lousy rocks-for-brains. “Go get Varian. I think it’s time to visit an old friend.”

O‴O‴O‴

After leaving Rapunzel in the capable hands of Eugene, Varian followed his dad, aunt, and uncle into the city proper. They stuck to the rooftops, passing unseen over the heads of the unsuspecting Coronans. The sun had begun to set, bathing the stone walls and terracotta shingles in a fiery glow. His ribs still ached with every movement, but he steadied his breathing, keeping his movements light and simple. The wrappings and pain medicine helped, taking much of the pressure off.

Varian followed close behind Quirin, mimicking his noiseless footsteps. He longed to ask where they were going; but, resolved to keep silent, he didn’t ask. He’d know soon enough, he guessed, as Quirin slowed down and dropped onto a low awning behind one of the shops. He slid under the covering, sinking into the shadows, and rapped three times on the door. As Varian jumped behind him, grabbing the edge of the awning with one hand and swinging down carefully, he spotted Quirin’s furred cloak disappearing into the shadows of the now-open door.

Darting in behind him, Hector and Adira right behind him, Varian pressed his back into the wall as a large arm reached past him to close the door. A match fizzled, lighting the wick of an oil lamp. And there, in the small halo, a familiar face smiled back at him.

“Xavier?” Varian gasped. He took a step forward, then flinched back, merging seamlessly into Hector’s shadow with practiced ease. Xavier had never been cruel or threatening the way he’d experienced with other Coronans, but he was still a Coronan, and every person in this moon-forsaken kingdom had good reason to distrust Varian. Most of them hadn’t had it out for him personally, simply believing the lies they were spoon-fed by the monarchy about the “dangerous wizard,” until he’d kidnapped Her Majesty. Did Xavier feel the same, or did he question the narrative that had ruined Varian’s chances to get help?

Xavier, however, didn’t seem concerned about his presence. His smile grew even wider as he looked at the four in the dim light. “Do my eyes deceive me?” he breathed, an awed reverence in his tone. “After all these years.”

Hector tensed, then suddenly his lithe frame was no longer sheltering Varian. He stepped forward, closer to the old blacksmith. “Velse. Xavier De’Koro?”

“Hector,” Xavier greeted. Then he gave a slight bow toward Adira. “Your Highness.”

Adira’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “Xavier, you know very well I abdicated—”

“The blood in your veins is still royal, my dear,” he waved off her protests. “Now come. I have closed the shop already, so we may speak freely.” He ushered them further inside.

Varian hung back, shifting to hide behind Quirin instead as he took up the rear. Quirin gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry,” he whispered in the darkness. “Xavier is an old friend. We’re safe here.” He turned and followed after the others.

Varian forced his feet to move, but his head was reeling. Somewhere along the way, he’d missed something— some variable in the equation, unnoticed until the answer fell apart. Xavier knew Hector and Adira. Knew Adira as a princess, even. Something no Coronan should know, except for Rapunzel’s friends. But the way Xavier had spoken wasn’t hearsay. It was familiarity. Xavier De’Koro, Hector had called him. Xavier of Clan Forge.

He’d missed a step on a staircase, a steep fall ahead with no idea when he would strike the ground. A piece of his life that he had accepted at face value, only to find that he’d known nothing at all. And yet another thing Quirin hadn’t told him.

The Brotherhood clustered in the main area of Xavier’s workplace, the open-air room sequestered off by a sliding wall. Torches lined the walls, casting flickering shadows on the metalwork scattered around. Xavier set the oil lamp on the hearth of his forge, staring at the Brotherhood as if he had uncovered a treasure long-since thought lost. Varian hovered near the wall, no longer seeking out the refuge of their shadows but not daring to step into view.

“Welcome to Corona, my friends,” Xavier said. “It has been too long.”

Hector pulled Xavier into a hug, saying something in the Old Tongue too quickly for Varian to understand. When Xavier responded in the same language, though, a sharp pang stabbed through Varian’s chest.

Hector released him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “What about Ebenezer?” he asked, a slight crack to his voice. His eyes had taken on a misty sheen in the torchlight.

Xavier shook his head. “He passed on some years ago. He swore to his dying breath, though, that the Brotherhood would set things right. He would be proud to see you now.”

Hector flinched, bowing his head. “We ain’t done real well at that.”

“But you are here. Still fighting.”

“Always,” he replied, voice growing hard as steel. 

Xavier gave a proud nod. His eyes searched the room until they landed on Varian, who shrank back further. He scowled, at war with himself, one part of him screaming to flee from the piercing gaze and the other part irritated and angered that he would still wilt before anyone who wasn’t his family. Hadn’t he come further than that? How could he call himself a knight of the Brotherhood if he cowered before one of their friends— someone he had once considered a friend? Someone whom he still trusted to some extent, and now had even more reason to?

“Varian Quirinson De’Xeol.” Xavier didn’t seem in the least offended by Varian’s behavior, even taking a step back to position himself farther away from the door. “It is good to see you again, child.”

De’Xeol. Clan Sword.

Varian was eight, clutching a small package to his chest as Quirin handed a few coins to Xavier. He bounced on the balls of his feet, fingers crinkling the brown wrapping. Now that he had the final pieces he needed, he could finish the spectrometric press he’d been working on. Daddy had even brought him all the way to Corona, saying with a badly-hidden smile that he wouldn’t know what parts to grab and they might as well take the trip together and get some snacks at Monty’s on the way.

Xavier gave a deep smile, his beard coated in soot from his recent work at the forge. He brushed his hands off on his apron, ruffling Varian’s hair. “Take care of that press, child. It will serve you for many years. Well met, Varian De’Xeol.”

“De’Xeol?” Varian asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar pronunciation. “What does it mean?”

The lines around Xavier’s eyes wrinkled pleasantly. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

Varian nodded and hugged Xavier’s legs. As he let go, his dad took his hand, a tight smile on his face as he thanked Xavier and pulled Varian away more quickly than he’d expected.

All this time. All these years, and there had been someone else from the Dark Kingdom here in Corona. Someone who could have told Varian the truth about his family.

“What are things like out there right now?” Quirin asked, drawing Varian from his thoughts. Now that he could recognize the difference, Varian noted a slight sharp accent to Quirin’s words. “Have the people heard yet?”

Xavier nodded. “Everyone in Corona is aware that you have returned. Public opinion is mixed. Many people still hate and fear you, I’m afraid, Varian. As for the rest of you, well, many are afraid simply by virtue of you being both unknown to them and connected to Varian. But the tide of opinion is starting to sway away from the crown as well. All thanks, I would presume, to an edict that went out some weeks ago declaring the king’s crimes against the people. Some Coronans have already begun to question the crown’s role in Varian’s actions.”

“Good,” Quirin answered. “That’s what we wanted. It will make things easier for us here.”

“Perhaps. And perhaps the instability among the people will cause more harm than good, if not resolved quickly.”

“Coronan politics aren’t our problem,” Adira said, arms crossed as she sat on the table. “We’re only worried about surviving here for now. What they do when we’re gone isn’t our business.”

“It may be everyone’s business soon,” he warned. “The citizens have already begun to question why you are here. They fear revolution. If I may ask, my friends, why are you here?”

Quirin leaned back against the table that Adira sat on. “We didn’t have much of a choice.” Quickly, he explained what Cassandra had done, up to their imprisonment and subsequent return to Corona to have their injuries treated.

Xavier hummed. “Unfortunate indeed. I will do whatever I can to help. My influence in Corona is still of some significance.”

Varian tuned out the rest of the conversation, sitting against the hearth with the fire-warmed bricks to his back. Xavier’s workshop had always been a place of refuge for him, somewhere he could go to feel normal. He’d spent long hours here, going over mechanical theory and metallic properties. In any other circumstance, he would have joined the circle around the table in an instant. But, still shaken from the revelation of having been friends with someone from the Dark Kingdom for years, he stayed where he was.

The low fires crackled cheerily, and the setting sun cast long beams in between the slats of the wooden wall, slowly trailing away. Varian didn’t react when Quirin sat beside him, beyond giving a noncommittal hum.

“We’re getting ready to leave,” Quirin told him. “Is everything alright? You haven’t been involved in the conversation.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll tell me everything I need to know, right?” he hissed. It was petty, yes, but a storm brewed in his chest, one he didn’t know how to vocalize.

Quirin sighed. “Slantse moe, you know there’s much we haven’t discussed. The time never came up. I thought this would be a good way to surprise you.”

“Surprise me?” He gave a short laugh. “Yeah, I’m surprised— that I didn’t see this coming. I know my whole childhood was a lie, but just when I think there’s one thing I know, turns out that’s a lie, too!”

Massaging his temples, Quirin answered, “Yes, I lied. I’m trying to make things right now. I won’t apologize for trying to protect you back then. That’s my priority as your father. I won’t apologize for trying to keep you from all this. It’s caused you nothing but pain. I wanted you to be free of the shadows I lived under. Neither of us could have seen this coming. We did the best we could.”

“I know,” Varian admitted, the anger leaving his body in a rush. He sank forward over his knees, drained. “Sorry. I’m just. So tired. All the time. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Believe us,” Quirin said, voice low and comforting as the firelight. “I’m working to earn your trust back. Hector is working to earn your trust. Adira, as far as I know, never lost it. Believe we love you and just want you to be safe.”

Leaning over, Varian rested his head on Quirin’s arm.

Hector and Adira wrapped up their portion of the conversation and prepared to leave. Quirin stood, extending a hand to Varian to help him up.  They started for the door, but Varian dragged his feet, trailing behind his family. He gave a small wave to their host. “Um— Bye, Xavier. Good to see you again.”

Xavier’s smile was as warm as his forge, no trace of any irritation at Varian or his standoffish behavior. “And you, as always, Varian De’Xeol. This place is always open to you.”

They left the shop, heading back toward the castle as the sun set below the horizon and yielded control of the sky over to the moon.

O‴O‴O‴

Arianna gnawed at her lip in a rather unladylike manner, but it was her lip or her fingernails, and that was worse. Anticipation crawled along her spine as she waited for Nigel’s verdict, feeling as if her work were on trial. In a way, it was; and if anyone but him saw and delivered a ruling of guilty, it would be her own neck in the noose.

Expecting the paper to join the others in her office’s small fireplace, a thrill shot through her stomach when he instead laid it on the desk before her. “Your Majesty, it’s perfect.”

Exhaling deeply, she slumped over until her forehead rested on the desk. Unladylike indeed, but Nigel had seen her react far worse ways since they started this venture. Exhaustion, born of long nights and dim fires and cramps in her wrist, had taken its toll on her body. She covered her dark circles with makeup and forced herself to eat despite her lack of appetite, but it got harder to hide with each passing day.

Every hour of sleep lost was worth it, though, as her goal drew ever closer.

“We will need His Majesty’s royal seal,” Nigel continued. “We will take the wax from his office, but he keeps his seal—”

“In the desk in the bedroom,” she concluded, picking her head back up. “I’m a fool.” She’d been so focused on getting the document completed that the location of Frederic’s signet ring had slipped her mind.

Nigel reached for the letter. “Could you take it without his knowledge, perhaps tomorrow night?”

She drew herself to her feet. “I’ll get it tonight. Get the wax.”

“Your Majesty—”

“It’ll be fine. He’s asleep, and I’m not getting much rest tonight anyway. We have to hurry. Do you have the other document?”

“I have it. We’ll emboss both tonight, and I’ll keep them hidden.”

She started for the door.

“Your Majesty…” Nigel sighed. “Please be careful. If you are caught, the consequences will be far more disastrous than if I am.”

She nodded, fingertips resting on the handle. As royal advisor, Nigel could talk his way out of borrowing something from the king’s office far more easily than she could cover up stealing the king’s signet. “Let’s plan to not get caught. Things are going to get far more dangerous for us all from now on.”

Slipping from the office, she shut the door behind her, drawing her shoulders back and stepping quickly over the ornate carpets. If anyone saw her, she was merely the queen traversing her own home, up late finishing some paperwork. There was no cause for concern— not unless anyone were to see her entering the king’s room. Unfortunately, gossip was that most long-standing of institutions, an unbroken tradition wherever there was a mouth to spread it and ears to hear, and hardly a soul in the palace didn’t know that she had left the suite where she’d resided for over two decades. This late in the evening, though, hardly a soul was stirring, and she reached his door unseen.

Her heart leapt to her throat, threatening to choke her. She swallowed thickly, reaching for the handle. This room that had once been her sanctuary, that she had never had cause to hesitate to enter, now loomed ahead like a yawning pit, her feet brushing the edge of the chasm as she swayed in gravity’s draw.

No. I am ice. I am unmoving. I am a queen, and queens go where they will in their own homes. She opened the door, entering and shutting it behind her without a single noise. Resolve hardened, her nerves settled back down, and she made her way toward the desk in the far corner, pointedly avoiding looking toward the grand bed over to the left.

Frederic’s signet ring sat, as always, in the second drawer on the right. She drew it open slowly, wincing as it creaked. Reaching inside, her fingertips brushed against the cool metal—

“Ari?”

She straightened quickly, shutting the drawer and facing the bed. Frederic sat up slowly, shoulders slumped and brows knit, but he made no move to draw closer to her. His frown lines had deepened, she noticed in the moonlight from the glass balcony doors, and his hair was tinged with more gray. It had been less than three weeks since she’d recklessly moved in with Rapunzel, and in that time, he had seemed to age before her eyes. The right side of his face was cast in shadows, but she could see the bare outline of the scar crossing his eye. Though he had never told her the truth about what happened, claiming he had slipped and struck his face against his desk one night, it wasn’t difficult to guess, not least of all because a certain family had supposedly left the kingdom that same night. She could hardly condemn Hector for that, but it still left a sick feeling in her stomach.

He still looked at her in a reluctant, longing sort of confusion, underscored by a deep love. The same love she saw in his eyes every day since the day they’d met, the same love he still held every time their eyes met across a room or she took his arm to present a united front to the people.

Heart thudding in her chest, Arianna held up her left hand, showing what she’d snatched from the desk. “I, er, left my letter opener here. I’ve been using Rapunzel’s, but—well, she used it as a palette knife.”

He didn’t answer, only giving a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” she said softly, fiddling with the handle of the small blade. “Will you be joining us tomorrow for breakfast?”

“Ari,” he murmured again, holding out one hand.

The nickname struck against the ice walls with which she’d encased her heart, cracks radiating out from the blow. She blinked back the tears that tried to spring to her eyes. Slowly crossing the room, she sat on the edge of the bed. Placing the letter opener on the covers beside her, she rested her hand over Frederic’s, preventing him from intertwining their fingers.

“I’m losing you, aren’t I?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“How did we come to this?”

This time, she couldn’t stop the tear that broke past her lashes. “I love you, Frederic,” she answered, feeling the cracks in her heart cut deeper. “But if this is the price of your love, then I cannot pay it.”

“You… you are everything to me,” he rasped. “My love, there is nothing I wouldn’t have done for you.”

“I know. You would have burned the world for me. But I didn’t ask you to.”

“How can I refuse to do what I must to protect my family?”

“To protect your family? Or to protect your pride?” She stood, taking the letter opener. Biting back the sharp words she wanted to hurl at him—to cut him as deeply as he’d cut her— she took a deep breath and said, “Good night, Frederic. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Sweeping the length of her skirt behind her, she left the room, trying not to run. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth and closing her eyes tightly. Straightening up, she bit her tongue, the pain bringing sharp clarity. The fingers of her left hand curled around the letter opener. Slowly unclenching her right fist, she stared at the signet ring sitting in the center of her palm. 

Closing her fingers around the cold circle again, she pushed away from the door and hurried back to her office.