Returning to Annwyn and getting an audience with the new Emperor Tristan was easy enough. In a way, Gwynn was a hero, or at least somebody he felt he owed something to on behalf of her sister and the East Sun's efforts to get him his crown. Convincing him to let them into Castle Tristerion was similarly easier than Gwynn might've expected.

"You want me to let you into that hidden courtyard where the old castle is, where every emperor of Annwyn has found his corruption?" Tristan raised an eyebrow.

"Please." Gwynn's dark eyes pleaded with him."We have to try. We could defeat her once and for all."

"You're on your own in there," Tristan warned.

"We'll take our chances." Gwynn glanced at Versailles.

"But we thank you anyway," he added curtly.

Tristan sighed. "I only hope you're right."

He looked beyond them, to the familiar Captain behind them, leaning against the wall. "Captain Ardell, if you would? Take them to the hidden courtyard."

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Despite it being autumn still in Heirhelm, snow fell all around the spindly ebony trees surrounding Castle Tristerion. The ground was rocky and barren, everything withered beneath. Gwynn noticed that her breath did not fog in this cold. As soon as she stepped down in the snow, her previous steps were suddenly filled in, leaving no trace of her presence.

Castle Tristerion was surrounded by a moat that looked to be made of obsidian, a pitch-black mirror.

The sky overhead had been a perfect autumn blue, but when they stepped into the forbidden courtyard where the old castle was contained, the sky turned to a lilac-gray overcast. The wind howled as it carved between the lifeless black trees that might have once been a forest, long ago.

Just beyond the moat was a bridge leading in. The former castle of demigods was as stark and foreboding as a tomb. The steel and stone was inlaid with veins of ice blue glowing diamond. Bluish mist swirled around them, emanating from the structure.

She squinted and could see an aura of purple magic in a shield surrounding the two of them. She turned to Versailles. "You?"

He nodded, his eyes turned to the great doors of Castle Tristerion. He was the one who flung open its doors and led her down the main hallway.

Shadows danced down the ruined halls, the torches lit as they continued down the withered corridors. They whispered in languages no longer spoken, in tongues far older than even Versailles standing beside her. Among their shapes she saw one with horns and glowing red eyes. She kept closer to Versailles after seeing that. Vine-like plants with sharp black thorns curled through shattered windows, growing around everything like weeds.

Every step took them deeper and deeper into the castle, until they reached a dead end, a set of stone doors with no other entrance or exit in the castle's heart.

Gwynn's breath hitched.

These, she knew, would lead to the Spider-Queen. The entity that had frightened her all her life, made her afraid to slumber and afraid to dream.

Not anymore. Now Gwynn was the nightmare, intruding upon her home.

Her fingertip only had to brush against the stone of the door for them to open with a frigid blast of arctic wind.

Gwynn did not hesitate, she stepped forward, only to find herself plunged into free fall. She hit the ground—pain racked her body, but still, she looked up just as Versailles landed beside her. A glance to the side revealed where the stairs that had once been in the chamber had broken off and crumbled.

She accepted his hand, his silent offer, and looked around the castle's secret chamber.

Snow covered the floor, and it was falling from the high-arched ceiling of the temple, where only pure shadows lurked near the top. Gwynn squinted and held a hand over her eyes to shield herself from the wind. Past the mist and the shadows and the ice, where were a group of figures entwined in bramble that were illuminated by a large circular window behind them, with that same glowing diamond inlaid.

In the center of it all, before a pedestal with a blood-red diamond, was the pale woman Gwynn had seen in her dreams. The phantom she had chased from Versailles in the waking.

She was asleep, just like the rest of their party trapped in the bramble.

"We have to wake them up somehow," Versailles explained as he looked up appraisingly. "But we can't wake her."

Before they could make progress forward, however, they were interrupted by briar and bramble snaking under the ground.

They erupted and twisted around Gwynn, ensnaring her in the trap. She struggled against the bonds as Versailles reached for her. But it was all in vain.

They struggled against the bonds, but it was no use.

"Gwynn!" He shouted as snow began to fall, as she was raised higher and higher in the air.

The snow was not cold, not at all to Gwynn's touch. No, instead it applied a gentle pressure, making her want to close her eyelids and. . .

Sleep.

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Sorrel was in the garden again. The one filled with all the curious wonders, the pavilions filled with flowers she now recognized as coming from all across Ondrina. This was the place that she had dreamed of since before this mess had started.

Sorrel frowned. One moment, she'd been outside Florian's cottage in Kells, and now she was here. . .

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She was asleep, she realized. And much like in most dreams, she couldn't quite recall where it had begun or how.

The Spider-Queen has us in some sort of trance, Sorrel thought as she surveyed the garden. I have to find the others.

With that, Sorrel took off in a sprint. She darted down the cobbled paths from pavilion to pavilion. The branches stretched out from the hedges and the thorns tore at her clothes and hair. But it didn't matter. For this was a dream, she knew this was a dream, and she had to find a way to get them all out of it.

"Gwynn!" She screamed to the perfect blue sky above them. "Florian! Gwynn! Where are you?"

She raced past the ivy-covered door, but was sure to make a note of it. That was where they would need to go, to confront the monster of their nightmares, the one who had started all of this so long ago.

Sorrel slowed. She could not find any of them. Not even Delphine or Akira or Layla or Pirlipat or Versailles. Were all of them even here?

Maybe she was even in a dream of her own.

She had to find out—how could she find out?

Gwynn had told her of the dream she'd had on Annwyn. Maybe the Spider-Queen had thought of that since then. Perhaps it would lure her into another trick or trap. But then again, what reason would the Spider-Queen have to do either of those things?

She had them all in her web anyway.

Sorrel reached out with that little spark of magic. It curled outward like the vines of a rosebush, like the gentle waves of water. She sent it out like a sonar, picturing the cockpit of the East Sun.

She felt two things ping back. The first was the ivy-covered door, which Sorrel knew would lead to the Spider-Queen.

The other was in an orchard at the far end of the gardens.

Without abandon, Sorrel tore off for the orchards. It had to be Gwynn or Florian or someone, anyone who could help her finish this.

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Panting and sweating, she came to a halt before an orchard, filled with the most beautiful jeweled ruby apples Sorrel had ever seen.

And in the center, strolling through with a dreamy, wistful expression on her face, was none other than Gwynn.

Sorrel scrambled in front of her—Gwynn stopped in her tracks and frowned.

"Sorrel?" She looked around. "What are you doing here? Isn't it a pleasant day? Why do you look so scared?"

Sorrel shook her head and placed her hands on Gwynn's shoulder. "We're not really here, Gwynn. We're dreaming."

"How do you know that?" Gwynn squinted at something in the distance. "I feel like we've been here before."

"I have, but only in dreams."

"No, no, listen. . . " Gwynn's frown deepened. "Doesn't this place look like Castle Tristerion?"

Sorrel's blood ran cold as she looked around her. Gwynn was right.

When they had seen it, the spires were ruined, the plants had long been overgrown—but Gwynn was right. Castle Tristerion still had the same skeleton and bones as this place.

Sorrel looked back to Gwynn. "But not as we knew it—this is what Castle Ondrina looked like in its heyday."

Gwynn blinked—then she startled. "We're dreaming then—and—"

She cursed. "The Spider-Queen got us! We're in her trap!"

Gwynn's hands curled into fists. "I'm not going to wait for the boys or anyone else to rescue us."

"And we don't have to," Sorrel assured her. "We can face the Spider-Queen here, in dreams."

Gwynn raised an eyebrow. "Where she's at the height of her power?"

"And we're at ours." Sorrel grabbed her hand. "She's never faced two of us together. We have the power of sisterhood on our sides."

Gwynn contemplated it a moment, then nodded. "It seems the only prudent course of action."

"Come on then!" Sorrel pointed in the direction of the ivy-covered door and started tugging her sister along. "We haven't a moment to lose!"

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It was exactly as Sorrel had recalled before. They entered the ivy-covered door into a hallway made of the starry-void. In front of them was their target, the one who had caused so much suffering and fear, the one who had started this war.

The Spider Queen.

She tilted her head back laughing.

"Do you really think that you can come into my domain to fight me?"

Her voice sounded more real than it ever had to Sorrel. No distance of a thousand stars separated them now. Talia suspected that this dream was the closest anyone had ever been to the true Spider-Queen.

"We haven't come to fight." Gwynn's voice was bitter as she squeezed Sorrel's hand. "You were the one who brought us here. And we thought we might as well talk, if you're going to trap us here."

The Spider-Queen hesitated—her expression revealed that she was clearly taken aback by this answer.

"Talk?" She said the word as if it were foreign, completely new to her dialect. "After all this time, now someone wants to talk to me?"

Sorrel stepped forward, although she didn't dare let go of her sister's hand. Their magic extended forward, creating galaxies of stars to illuminate the Spider-Queen and themselves.

They would light up the darkness.

"Is it really such a surprise?" Gwynn gestured around them. "You haven't exactly given us a lot of choices. You were the one who brought violence to our home."

Even Sorrel might have feared her sister, if she hadn't known that she was on her side.

"We did nothing to you," Gwynn spat. "Florian Coppelius did nothing to you and you hurt him. Neither did Versailles Isengrim, before you got your hands on him!"

The Spider-Queen snarled, baring her sharp teeth. "You will never understand what has been done to me!"

With a sweeping gesture, the ground beneath their feet rumbled and illuminated itself into the stone sigil of the House of Ondrina with glowing red cracks in it. Raven-like monsters dived at Gwynn and Sorrel.

They were forced to let go and dive out of the way. Briars swept up around them and Sorrel started to sprint, hoping to doge and outrun them.

But even in her dreams, she couldn't do it forever.

More raven-monsters swooped at them. Sorrel ducked under briar to avoid them. It was a split-second of refuge. One that gave her an idea.

She forced herself to stand, perfectly still in the chaos of the attacks. She used her magic to form a perfect shield around herself.

"Muirgen Ondrina." The name tasted like a lament in the air when Gwynn spoke.

The Spider-Queen froze. The briars and the ravens froze with it.

"What—what did you say?"

"That was your name once, wasn't it?" Gwynn tilted her head. "How long has it been, Muirgen, since you've heard it?"

The Spider-Queen said nothing. But her haunted expression would remain with Sorrel until the end of her days.

Then in a burst of red light, the Spider-Queen vanished.

In her place was a girl in a red dress, with a spider-web scar around one eye, and dark hair. She looked hardly any older than Sorrel or her sister.

"This is what you really look like, isn't it?" Sympathy had leaked into Sorrel's voice. "You were just a girl, whenever what happened to you. . . well. . ."

"When Siegfried died," Gwynn finished. "When they killed him and they hurt you."

"Siegfried. . . " A cold wind rippled through the room. Tears started to trickle down the goddess's eyes. She fell to her knees and cried out, in obvious pain from the epiphany.

"I—I don't know what to do with this." She reached over her chest. "Remorse—is there even time for such things?"

"It's never too late." Gwynn approached Muirgen and knelt beside her. "You can let go, now. You can pass into the stars, if it is what you want."

Sorrel looked to Gwynn inquisitively.

"That was what really happened to the Prince of Light," Gwynn explained. "I don't think Coppelius understands that. But I finally figured it out."

Sorrel's eyes widened. But she figured that she could ruminate on the implications of all of this later. What mattered wasn't even defeating her enemy.

It was to help someone in pain finally get her chance to move on and change.

She also knelt by Muirgen and touched her shoulder. "It's alright. You'll see Siegfried again soon."

Muirgen looked up at her. "Who will remember my story?"

Sorrel at first wasn't sure what to make of this question—it seemed almost unrelated to what was happening before them.

Still, she knew her answer.

"I will," Sorrel answered. "And I will make sure that your story never repeats itself."

Muirgen smiled. "Thank you, Little Scholar."

With that, she dissipated into a million stars as Sorrel and Gwynn embraced the goddess who had once been their foe.