Calliope sat alone at the burnt out fire pit they had created just a day earlier. It had only been an hour since they arrived back at the abandoned house, but any and all sense of time had slipped out of Calliope's grasp. Her eyes were as empty as her numb mind as she went through the motions, following the party back to their temporary shelter. She didn't dare enter the house. She watched as they carried Mido inside and closed the door and she hadn't seen anyone since. She didn't turn when she heard the door open behind her, and she said nothing when Ian sat beside her. She stared at the lifeless remains of the fire pit, feeling hollow.

"I didn't mean to yell at you," he said to her, looking at his feet.

"This shouldn't have happened," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

"Scarletta won't rest until she gets you, you know that. You were right. It's only a matter of time before she shows up again. She probably found the king and his army. We should have had a back-up plan."

"No. You can't do this anymore. I don't want your help. I'm weak. I'm a witch. I'm not worth this."

Ian turned to her and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "I promised I would protect you. We all did. We owe you that. We owe you our lives."

"You don't owe me anything. Innocent people have died for a pathetic witch. I cannot let this go on. I won't. They only one that should die is me. I'm the one everyone wants dead. I'm the only life that should be ending."

"How can you-"

Calliope pulled away and got to her feet. "I'm just a witch! A weak, evil witch. I don't belong in this world. You must not help me anymore."

Ian got to his feet. "You're more than that, Calliope. We all know that, or we wouldn't be helping you."

Calliope, breathing heavily, turned away. She felt Ian's hand, strong and warm, on her shoulder. His fingers gripped at the material of her dress, a bit too hard for a reassuring hold. She forced herself to swallow the lump that formed inside her throat. She twisted out from his grasp but did not turn to meet his gaze.

"Come inside," he said. "You need some rest."

"I'm fine out here."

She listened to Ian's quiet breathing. He was silent for a moment. Ian's feet shuffled across the forest floor. The old, worn door creaked open, paused, then softly thud against the frame.

Maria looked at Ian with sorrowful eyes. She cocked her head to the side as their gazes met.

“She won't come in,” he said to her.

Maria sighed. “Poor thing,” she said, her heart breaking for the young witch. She turned to inspect the fresh bandage she put on Mido's wound. His chest rose and fell in slow stutters. She let her hand run across his hot face and she pinched her lips together. “She can't handle this,” she said. “She knows nothin' of our world. She's jesta child.”

Ian got to his knees beside her and looked over his friend, but said nothing.

“She cares deeply 'bout us,” Maria continued. “Such a kind thing.” Maria leaned her head against Ian's shoulder.

“I think Mido likes her,” Ian said.

Maria met Ian's gaze and smirked. “Toldja.” She turned back to Mido and patted the bandage one last time. “Now he jest has to pull through tonight.”

“I trust him in your care,” Ian said, giving Maria a nudge with his elbow.

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Calliope stood small and alone amongst the tall trees of the forest. The warm sunlight glistened off of their leaves, still wet from the earlier rain. The forest's overwhelming darkness descended around her, swallowing her in its cold grasp. There was no crackle of a fire to ease her mind, nor did the birds sing their usual cheerful songs. The scent of wet pine, strong and enticing, begged her to step into the forest's hold. The uncertain darkness provided a strange comfort to her; a sense of losing herself in its grip, never to return to the horrors she had caused. Though her body remained still, her mind had given in to the call of the forest; her eyes glazed as the world darkened around her. It was as if the forest had won as she lost herself in the darkness of night.

But it was not dark. No; she could only beg for darkness. Instead, her world was vivid and harsh as Scarletta's fiery red locks suddenly came into view before her. Her wicked smile stretched across her face. Her voice – strangely sweet and soothing – cursed Calliope's name, and Calliope shuttered.

The rotting stench of the Nequam overpowered the sharp pine as their leathery wings beat like thunder through the air.

Blazing villages trapped its citizens. Their anguish cries ringing eerily through the empty night. Smoke blurred their visions and filled their lungs. Burned corpses replaced the scent in her nose.

Deadly blades pierced the skin of fathers and brothers and husbands. Friends. Neighbors. Comrades.

The images would not subside, but she refused to standby any longer; she made up her mind.

The horses rustled through the brush by the trees, snorting and pawing at the ground. Calliope sauntered to her horse, holding her hand delicately to the large creature. The gelding sniffed curiously at her hand before turning back to a patch of grass by his feet. She slid her hand down the steed's neck, cooing softly. The horse twitched his ears towards her and sighed. Her hands rested on his back for a moment, then she pulled herself up onto his back. She sat for a moment, her fingers still intertwined in his coarse mane. He shifted his weight under her as she mounted and steadied herself. His body was warm against her bare legs. Calliope straddled his bony back, shifting her weight until the bone between her legs was positioned just so. She let her grip tighten in his mane and squeezed at his sides. He shook his head eagerly and walked forward as commanded.

Calliope pointed the horse through the woods, encouraging him faster until they were galloping between trees and over rotted logs. She bent low to the horse's neck as he maneuvered through the forest. The cool night air whipped at their bodies and stung Calliope's face. The gelding's hooves dug into the damp earth, the thundering of his feet echoing inside her chest, the only sound to break the eerie silence. She pressed further into the horse's neck and let the horse guide the way through the forest with no particular destination in mind. She squeezed her eyes shut and her chest shuttered. The horse's dirty scent filled her nose, his body heat radiating against her cold, wet face. Calliope buried her face against his neck and sobbed as her mind drifted to Mido, dying in the old, abandoned building where they took refuge.

It wasn't right for these people to sacrifice their lives for her. She couldn't stand by and watch them fall any longer. Not them, not the rest of the kingdom. She wanted their suffering to end. She wanted her suffering to end. It wasn't until she heard the familiar rush of the distant waterfall that she looked up, peering between the horse's forward, eager ears. Calliope cooed to the horse, encouraging him to slow as horse and rider reached the shallow bank of the river. Without hesitation, the horse stepped carefully forward until he was ankle deep in the icy water. He dipped his nose into the current as Calliope slid off of his back. Her knees shook as her feet plunged into the water, the cold water almost knocking her backwards. The river sparkled in the moonlight, the blood that had stained it washed away like a memory.

The water pierced her ankles like frozen daggers and her feet were on the verge of numbing as she forced herself towards the waterfall's edge. Calliope peered down the thundering cascade and an overwhelming feeling of relief washed over her. The current pulled around her, taunting her, daring her forward, but she hesitated. Would her suicidal attempt even work? Surly her bones would break when her body crashed against the jagged rocks below. She wouldn't be able to use her limbs; wouldn't be able to kick or swim to stay above the water's surface. Would the river's icy breath in her lungs be enough to end her life?

Would Scarletta search for her and heal her? Maybe she would remain forever in an unconscious, undead state. At the very least, it would rid her of her existence in this world. The humans could do nothing to bring her back. She doubted Scarletta would bother to bring her back to life. She wouldn't waste her energy, even if she had more powerful potions. Calliope felt confident in that. Scarletta would give up on her and, without a witch, would need to refocus her energy on creating another one. That would buy the humans the time they needed to escape and prepare themselves for the next attack. Maybe by then they would find a way to defeat Scarletta once and for all.

The sun's pale, early morning rays began to lighten the horizon. One by one, the tiny, silver stars began to disappear, threatening Calliope with the promise of a new day. Her heart raced as she realized she had wasted too much time. The waterfall continued it's plummet to the earth below, still pulling Calliope anxiously along with it. Her dress blew around her numb feet in the early dawn breeze. She sucked in a breath and strode confidently through the shallow water to her fate.