The staircase led Gwynn and Sorrel up into a simple room, all dark except for the light that came in through the stained-glass ceiling. There were no decorations other than the intricately-carved pillars, but Gwynn could not make up the details in the relative darkness. Indeed, most of the light in the room came from atop a small altar in the center, in front of a tapestry.

For on top of the simple stone altar was none other than a glowing goblet. The base of the goblet was made with white platinum, but the light truly came from the jewels inlaid in the cup in shades of blue, indigo, and violet. They reminded Gwynn of the color of the eyes of the wolf, her masked dancing partner—Versailles.

Her heart ached to recall that moment. She’d been so stupid, so foolish to believe anyone would be interested in dancing with her of all people. It was so clearly a trap in hindsight, taking advantage of girlish naivete.

Gwynn and Sorrel approached the altar to where the cup lay.

“I guess this is it.” Gwynn glanced at her sister.

She could see the gears whirring behind Sorrel’s eyes, trying to figure out if there was an additional trick or trap. But surely there wouldn’t be, surely they’d passed the trials?

Gwynn reached out to the cup, her fingertips just barely brushing agains the cool metal when she heard a voice.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Gwynn and Sorrel turned to see Versailles step out from behind a pillar and twirl his polearm.

“You’ve come to take the artifact for yourself, haven’t you?” Sorrel demanded. “For the Spider-Queen’s schemes, I’m sure.”

He laughed, but it was a humorless sound. “I know you won’t believe me, but I am not interested in seeing your deaths.”

“You plan to kill us then for it.” Sorrel lifted her crystal sword. “Not happening. We’re saving Coppelius, then the entire galaxy.”

“Ah, so that’s why you came looking for it.” Versailles’ indigo eyes strayed to behind them, to the goblet. “It’s a shame that Coppelius has resigned himself to death.”

“Why do you and the Spider-Queen hate him so much?” Gwynn tensed as her sister spat the words. “What did he ever do to you? He told me how he never did anything when you burned down his home, when you came for him.”

“I don’t hate him.” Versailles frowned. “I would have preferred he joined my side. But he refuses to acknowledge the inevitable. And since he cannot see the bigger picture, he insists on fighting the tide—well, unfortunately the tide must take him.”

He sighed once more. “I don’t want the artifact, and Her Majesty doesn’t need it. But I cannot let you take it from this room.”

“Why not?” Gwynn found herself stepping forward, placing herself between Sorrel and the dark prince. There was something about his tone, about the warning that had alerted them to his presence in the first place. “This isn’t about Coppelius, is it?”

“No.” Something softened in his gaze, something she did not recognize it. A small smile appeared at his lips, but it disappeared as soon as it arrived. “The artifact is cursed. This whole castle is.”

“Care to say any specifics?” Sorrel stepped around Gwynn, falling into her place by her side. “How did you even find us anyway?”

He tilted his head as if it were obvious. “It was easy to follow the light of those two, not to mention that I recognized the aura of my little gift to Gwyneira.”

Gwynn recoiled. “So it was a trick!”

“It actually wasn’t, if you would believe me,” he said, locking eyes with Gwynn. “I meant what I said when I saw you alone and wanted to dance.”

“Shut up, you bastard.” Gwynn could feel her ears going warm. “What was the real reason for the bracelet?”

Versailles’ eyes flashed. “If it isn’t obvious by now, then I’ll make it clear—I have no interest in either of your deaths. You are not like the Governor, or the princess. You are not a part of this story and you don’t have to be. You don’t have to suffer the fate for it.”

“You wanted me to survive this.” It didn’t make any sense, but Gwynn could see it between his words all the same. “Why?”

He opened his mouth to speak, only to freeze. To look afraid.

“Don’t do this. . . please. Coppelius doesn’t know what he’s truly fighting for.”

Before Gwynn could ask what he meant, Sorrel beat her to the punch.

“I don’t think you do either.”

With that, Sorrel sprinted back toward the altar.

Versailles leapt at her and snatched her around the waist, lifting her up and off the ground. Sorrel began to thrash, scratching at his arms, but they were covered by the thick fabric of a black jacket.

Gwynn felt frozen, stuck, and yet—her sister needed her. She couldn’t stay still. She had to do something.

That was when she felt something, some kind of glimmer within her veins, a light that felt familiar to her, welcoming—calming even. Was this what courage, or maybe serenity felt like?

Gwynn wasn’t sure. But the light was beckoning her, and she needed to help her sister somehow. So she heeded its call.

A light as red as apples appeared in her hands—magic, just like what Coppelius had wielded. It was hers, it was that glimmer. And it felt right.

“Stop!” Gwynn shouted.

To her surprise Versailles obeyed and even Sorrel froze. It was just enough for Sorrel to let it fly.

Versailles let go of Sorrel and leapt back, just in time for the spell to soar harmlessly between them and into a pillar. The impact caused parts of the pillar to break off and crumble—but the structure remained steady.

“How did you—“ Versailles turned to her, eyes wide with shock.

But in doing so, he’d ignored the sister that mattered.

Sorrel came at him with the crystal blade, and Gwynn knew that was her chance. She sprinted to the altar as Versailles and Sorrel exchanged blows behind her. Gwynn slammed up against the altar, and her fingers closed around the stem of the goblet.

“Hah!” She let out a yell of triumph.

Her victory didn’t last long.

The ground began to rumble and shake beneath her feet. Gwynn gripped the altar for balance, and looked up to see shadows moving around the room—but they weren’t quite shadows, no—

“You need to get out of here, now!” Versailles grabbed Gwynn’s wrist and yanked her toward where her sister had fallen to the ground. He then conjured a violet light between his fingers.

With weaving motions, the light expanded into a shield, a wall between them and—

They were patches of darkness vaguely in the shapes of people, but not completely so, and filled with sparks of starlight. But there was something wrong about all this, something that tugged at Gwynn from within. She wasn’t entirely sure what this was.

But Versailles had known about them and was protecting them, in spite of everything.

She didn’t have time to question his motives, or what the phantasms were. She grabbed Sorrel and pulled her to her feet, and then hurried back out the door through which they came. Versailles followed closely behind, maintaining the violet wall as they backed into the mirror room.

Gwynn turned around in panic as the door shut—how would they get back?

Her question was answered as she, Sorrel, and Versailles began to sink into the floor, and then—

Gwynn came gasping to the surface of the pool she and Sorrel had stepped into when they started this whole mess.

“Are you alright, do you have the artifact—“ Kiana’s eyes narrowed as she registered who had climbed out with them. “What’s he doing here?”

“No time, we have to get out of here now,” Sorrel huffed.

“What do you mean—OH!” Kiana cried out as a phantasm launched itself at her, only for it to be repelled by Versailles’ shield, leaving sparks of violet in its wake. “What are those?”

“Castle’s natural defenses,” Versailles panted. “We need to leave, now!”

Kiana and Niniane shared a look. Then they obeyed, fleeing into the corridors.

Delphine took the lead, naturally. All of them followed her, weaving through the dark corridors as all the phantasms converged on the shield, now turned to a dome in attempt to shield them all.

Never had Gwynn run so fast, never had her fingers held so tight.

Never had she been so relieved to see the doors, closed as they were.

Kiana, Niniane, and Delphine outstretched their hands, beginning to weave the magic to open the door. Still, it wasn’t enough. The whole party came to a stop, as the three witches worked to open the great doors.

Versailles gritted his teeth as he renewed the shield, but Gwynn could see that the effort was taking a toll on him. She didn’t know how to tap into the light, how to help, either the witches or Versailles.

“I can’t hold them back forever,” he warned.

“We’re trying!” Delphine shouted through gritted teeth. “You could help too!”

“You really don’t want that—just do your job!”

As Gwynn watched, helplessly, she noticed that the phantasms grew more distinct in their shape, with silhouettes of flowing hair and clothes and claw-like hands and they were reaching—

“It’s open!” The doors swung wide-open with a loud creak and rumbling like stone grinding against stone.

The three witches and Sorrel raced for the door, and Gwynn herself was about to do the same when something inside of her told her to turn around.

She did so to see Versailles stumble back and his shield dissipate. He might have walked in their enemy—but he had helped them, and he’d been right about the dangers of Castle Arcadia. She couldn’t leave him there, she couldn’t let him die.

She caught him before he could fall, and he braced himself against her.

“Come on,” she urged, as she noticed the doors were already starting to close.

With strength she didn’t even know she had, she managed to push through, one foot in front of the other, and squeezed through the ever-slimming opening. As they set foot onto the outer stairs, the door closed behind them with a heart-stopping finality.

Versailles stepped away from her, leaning against one of the pillars as he breathed heavily. “Let’s not do that again.”

“You saved us.” Gwynn became suddenly aware of the chalice in her hands again, and she wondered what would happen now. “Thank you.”

He looked up at her, indigo eyes to deep brown. Something faltered in the blue-violet starlike depths, a moment of vulnerability she could not decipher but she did understand. At least, on some level.

“So what happens now?” Sorrel’s voice cut through the moment like a pair of Gwynn’s sharpest sewing scissors.

“What do you mean?” Versailles huffed.

“We know that you were the one who attacked my mansion and cursed Coppelius Ondrina.” Kiana strode forward, back up the steps. “I have no doubt that you came here to prevent us from gaining the artifact, and to even get it for yourself.”

“Her Majesty has no interest in the Prince of Light’s inheritance,” Versailles spat, finally straightening himself. “As for Coppelius, while the Her Majesty would rather see him dead or under her command, there is still plenty of opportunity for either. I had my own motives for coming.”

His eyes betrayed them, flicking towards Gwynn.

Her?

None of it made sense, the bracelet, the dance, this—

But Kiana was oblivious to it all.

“I don’t care whatever motivations have brought you here.” Kiana began to conjure a pale pink light in her hands. “But you have wrought destruction on my home and are in league with the greatest evil our stars have ever known. Leave, now.”

Versailles stiffened. “Greatest evil? Did you not see what was inside Castle Arcadia?”

He glanced at Gwynn. “Those ghosts were there for a reason. I’d ask whose side you’re really on.”

He then looked back to Kiana just as she stopped in front of him and he raised his hands. “Oh, don’t worry, Governor Albion. I’m leaving. Keep your chalice. And take what happened last night as a warning. The Spider-Queen does have some modicum mercy and will give second chances—but not for long.”

With that, he vanished in a cloud of night and stardust, the universe itself ripping in half for just a second and then it sealed up again without a second thought. As if nothing had happened at all.

Kiana sighed. “At least he’s gone.”

She then turned to Gwynn. “The chalice, if you please?”

Gwynn handed it to her. Kiana turned it over and over in her hands.

“You both did well today.” Kiana smiled. “We’ll be able to help save Coppelius with this.”

“Oh thank the stars.” Sorrel’s hand flew over her heart. “Can we go to him?”

“Of course.”

Coralia was still there, watching over the sleeping prince beneath the gazebo. Sorrel rushed to his side, falling to her knees beside him. She reached for his hand, finding his pulse. It was weaker than she recalled, harder to find, and he was so pale, so still. It was hard to identify the rise and fall of his chest.

Kiana gave Coralia the chalice, who poured it into his full, parted lips.

The effect was instant.

Color returned to his face, his eyes opened, and he sharply inhaled. He sat up, and Sorrel rose with him. She gently helped him sit up, one arm behind his back, the other around his shoulder.

“What happened—are you alright?” He asked Sorrel, eyes wide. Time had not passed for him as it had for her—but that was alright.

“I’m fine.” Sorrel laughed, but it sounded more like a sob as her eyes burned. Tears like little sun drops leaked from her eyes.“And you’re okay too!”

She embraced him as tightly as she could, determined to never let him go. He wound his fingers through her red hair.

“You’re back.” Sorrel was laughing and crying at the same time. “You’re back and you’re going to be okay and—“

She stopped, as they parted a little—but she didn’t dare let go of him yet. And he hadn’t stopped holding onto her. Their joy was tangible, unspoken as a grin found its way on his face, and Sorrel’s. They looked at each other, and Sorrel knew.

So she leaned in for a kiss.