wynn and Sorrel had visited the Reserve several times before, on school trips and during summer and winter vacations. Near the outskirts of the city, the ancient pines stretched taller than all but the highest spires. They invoked a mystic awe that left all visitors quiet in reverence. For hours, she would chase after her sister and explore the forest, taking in the beauty of a forgotten age. Sometimes, Gwynn would even catch a glimpse of animals whose last refuge in the planet were these very woods.

Even now, covered in ice and snow, it was more beautiful than the rest of Perrault put together.

There was always a sorrow to the beauty and mysticism of the forest, Gwynn found. It made her wonder what Perrault used to be like—and why it had been destroyed to make the dying port city of the Border Worlds.

This was all that was left of what Perrault once was.

Getting to the Reserve was surprisingly easy. Sorrel was a fast flyer. For all her claims the previous night of being no pilot, Gwynn could tell that their father's gift for flight was there. With the hoverboard preventing the making of tracks and its relative silence, it was easy to get past the soldiers in the area.

Even getting past the tall gates was easier than Gwynn had anticipated. None of the usual guards were out, given the lockdown, so it was only a matter of flying high enough and they were through.

Once they'd landed in the Reserve, they dismounted the hoverboard and left it behind a tree. The forest was too dense to be traversed that way.

Coppelius lifted the magic crystal in one hand and waved the other over it. Matching the deep blue of the crystal, a spectral arrow appeared in the air, pointing a tentative direction.

"Is that a finding spell?" Sorrel asked, bounding up next to him.

"It is, but I have to have a pretty good idea what I'm looking for, for it to work." Coppelius started forward. "Luckily, what we're looking for has a strong aura of magic."

Gwynn bit her lip and said nothing, falling into her usual place as Sorrel's shadow. She could see the sparkle in her twin sister's eyes when she looked at the mysterious stranger. It put a pit in her stomach, the precipice of a free-fall.

They might be twins, but Sorrel was the younger of the two and she had always been, in a way, her little sister. She always would be. And her little sister was in love with a spacer sorcerer on the run from the law.

Gwynn wanted nothing more than to grab her sister's arm and run home, leave Coppelius behind and pretend none of this ever happened.

But she couldn't. Not just because they were in too deep as it was. But it was like they kept telling Coppelius, over and over again. He was someone in trouble, someone who needed help. They were someone who could give it, and were as used to giving as breathing.

For all her concerns, the doubts she harbored about Coppelius and the chaos he brought, even if Sorrel had nothing to do with any of this, Gwynn knew she would make the same choices.

"So, what's the aura of this thing like?" Sorrel asked, bounding through the snow after Coppelius as he continued to make a compass of his amulet. "Does it glow or something? Do you have special magic-sight?"

"It's not quite like that." Coppelius stopped as the arrow wobbled. "It's more like a feeling. Have you ever just known something, courtesy of intuition?"

"Yeah." Sorrel stepped beyond Coppelius. "Of course I have."

"It's like that, just a sort of gut feeling." Coppelius frowned. "The thing we're looking for—it's supposed to feel like the sun on a summer's day, like standing a little too close to a fire on a warm night. Not enough to hurt or burn—but enough to remind you of the power of light."

"Wow," Sorrel whispered, and Gwynn could feel her slipping away.

The arrow turned, pointing to an archway of sorts, formed by two thin ebony trees and a fallen one caught in the branches over the top.

"I think we're getting closer," Coppelius declared. He didn't look any happier for it.

They passed under the archway and bounded over a hill to enter a clearing as Coppelius's arrow dissolved.

A pond stood completely frozen, and partially growing over it was a short, gnarled tree unlike any other in the Reserve. The taller trees had shielded it from snow, and so it somehow held onto its petals of snow-white and rose-red.

Gwynn's breath hitched and Sorrel froze in her tracks. Sorrel turned her head, reaching out a hand to Gwynn. Gwynn instantly understood.

"What's wrong?" Coppelius turned to the twins.

"I've seen this before." Sorrel's eyes were wide, fixated on the tree.

Gwynn accepted her sister's hand, their freckled fingers entwined. "Only in dreams, though."

Coppelius's own eyes widened. "Have you ever dreamed before of other places and times, with the lingering certainty that what you saw was true?"

"Yes." Gwynn found herself speaking. "Both of us have. Or at least, I used to."

"I still sometimes do," Sorrel added. She then frowned. "Is this what you were talking about, the auras? Because I think I can feel it. Not like what you described—but there's something here."

"I think it is." Coppelius returned his eyes to the tree. "But you're right—something's wrong."

A finger hovered over his chin. "I can't tell what it is, though."

Sorrel looked to Gwynn, a silent plea in her big brown eyes, a sudden vulnerability. What do we do?

In the face of her sister's dawning terror, Gwynn knew there was only one thing they could do.

"We continue forward, then. We can't stop now."

At that, as if in a trance, Sorrel walked towards it, reaching out for the symbol carved onto the tree. Only to stop a foot shy and retract her hand.

Gwynn joined her sister at her side, and she took Sorrel's hand once more. They exchanged a look, and Gwynn knew that they both knew there was no room for misgivings or turning back.

They nodded, and touched the trunk at the same time.

Starting in the carved symbol and flowing through the grooves of the bark, a golden light filled the tree, and Gwynn felt a spark awaken inside of her. It had always been there, she realized. But now she was aware of it, and nearly exploding with this energy. She could even see a faint glow around Sorrel's skin. The ground rumbled beneath them, and the mark shone with all the brilliance of the sun.

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When Gwynn could see again, there was an open hollow in the center of the tree. Sitting there was a crystal blade, the color of grass in the springtime just after the rain. It was set in a fine golden hilt and glowed the same way Coppelius's crystal did.

Sorrel reached for the hilt of the blade, her eyes fixed on the blade and strangely blank.

"I never thought I'd see my father's sword again."

Sorrel stopped, and both she and Gwynn turned to see Coppelius approach. He looked disappointed by the miracle before them.

"Isn't this what we were looking for?" Sorrel's voice warbled.

"I still wouldn't want this to fall in the wrong hands." Coppelius stepped between the sisters and drew the sword. "But I'd hoped to find my father here instead."

"Your father—" Gwynn's brain was whirring. "You said that there would be an explanation. Now's the time. What's this tree, this sword, your father—"

Coppelius turned back to Gwynn. "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know though if now's the time—"

"No." Gwynn looked to her sister, to the dazzled look in her eyes. "We've put everything on the line to help you. There are unconscious soldiers in our home, there's a blockade around our planet, and you're at the center of all of it. The time for secrets is over. It's time to tell us what in the stars above is going on."

"I—" Coppelius began to stammer, a sorrowful shadow crossing over his face. "I—"

Before he could form a coherent answer, he was interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow and the hum of electricity.

"Sorry to interrupt, but this ends here."

The three of them turned to see a figure standing between the trees. Clad almost entirely in black, with a scarf turned to a hood and shawl around his pale angular face and dark hair, the silhouette of the warrior was stark against the snow and ice. He carried a polearm like that of the soldiers, but with a larger end. From around his neck dangled a crystal amulet like Coppelius's, colored violet rather than azure blue.

His fair, freckled face was similar to Coppelius's, Gwynn realized, and they shared the same indigo starry eyes. Those intense, blazing starry eyes were aimed directly at Coppelius.

"I've followed you far, Coppelius, but you still can't outrun what is inevitable." The warrior twirled his polearm. "Her Majesty is merciful—you still could come home to the dark, if you wished it, and spare yourself the destruction."

"I'm not like you, Versailles," Coppelius spat. "You know what the Spider-Queen is, and you still made a deal with her for your own selfish reasons, damn everyone else!"

The Spider Queen? Gwynn looked to Sorrel, to find her looking back with the same confusion. Gwynn recalled the name in the stories their father used to tell, the generic villainess of every story across the Society of Worlds and beyond.

How could any of this be?

"Watch your tone." The warrior—Versailles— his face darkened. "You know nothing of my reasons."

"The Spider Queen?" Sorrel's voice cut between the two outlanders. "But she's just a fairytale, a myth."

"How far the knowledge of magic has fallen in the Society of Worlds." Versailles turned his attention to Gwynn and Sorrel. "Stand aside. The Queen and I have no quarrel with you."

"No." Sorrel moved to join Coppelius's side. "The Spider Queen is a villain in all the old stories. If she's really real and you're working with her, then you're not up to anything good."

"I would prefer not to fight any who are not necessary to the Queen's commands." Versailles' violet amulet began to glow brighter, a swirl of matching light surrounding him like an ominous mist. "But I cannot stop you from acting recklessly and I must carry out Her Majesty's wishes."

With that, he raised his polearm, pointing toward Coppelius and the sisters. The violet light plunged toward them, and it was all Gwynn could do to grab the collars of Coppelius and Sorrel's jackets and pull them to the ground with her.

The light soared over them, narrowly missed the ancient tree, and hit a thinner pine behind them, causing it to burst into flames.

Coppelius shot to his feet, weaving a spell of arcane symbols in azure light. As he did, Versailles stalked toward him, clearly in no rush. It reminded her of a predator, in perfect control and self-assured in the inevitability of catching trapped prey.

Coppelius released the spell, and Versailles merely raised his electrified polearm and swatted at it. The light scattered and died as embers in the snow. Coppelius's hands moved quicker, mumbling something that Gwynn couldn't quite make out or understand.

Gwynn heard movement behind her, and turned her head to see Sorrel remove the crystal blade from the tree hollow.

Before Gwynn could say or do anything, Sorrel charged at Versailles. He only spotted her just in time, hastily blocking her and turning away from Coppelius. Sorrel forced him to stumble back, and readied her swing again, meeting Versailles' blade at its electrified tip.

The force of the blow sent the polearm flying, only to land several feet away in the snow, the tip buried in the ground.

But that was the least of Versailles' problems.

"Coppelius! Catch!" Sorrel tossed the blade to Coppelius. He caught the hilt out of the air and he strode forward to the champion of the Spider Queen, now disarmed.

That didn't mean, however, that Versailles was out of tricks.

With a sweep of his arms, violet light appeared in the blink of an eye, pushing both Sorrel and Coppelius back and onto the ground. The sword fell out of Coppelius's hand, clattering to the ground beside him.

Versailles then raised his hand, and Coppelius was raised high into the air, only to be slammed to the ground with a sickening sound.

"NO!" Sorrel screamed in anguish, and she scrambled over to his side. Coppelius stirred, but his eyes were unfocused, and he was bleeding again. The wound on his head had reopened, and something was wrong about his right leg.

Gwynn felt frozen in all the chaos, as everything slowed to the pace of her ever-beating heart. She had to do something, anything. She couldn't let Versailles hurt Sorrel or Coppelius. Like a wolf once again, he was heading straight for them, weaving a spell in his hands.

Gwynn looked around for something, anything that she could use—and her eyes locked on the discarded polearm.

That was when she knew what she had to do.

She sprinted through the snow, faster than she'd ever moved in her life. Everything, or so it seemed, hinged on this one thing.

Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Versailles stop, caught off-guard by her action. Footsteps crunched in the snow, he was coming, and fast. But she was certain she could get there first.

She outstretched her long, pale fingers as she closed in, and the awakened spark inside of her sang. The polearm lifted itself out of the ground and into Gwynn's hand. Her fingers closed around it, and her thumb found the button that turned on the electricity. She slammed it and turned just in time to thrust the electrified end at Versailles' chest.

He didn't even have time to scream, he crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Gwynn blinked. For a few moments, her enemy was deathly still.

Did I kill him?

Right then, she could see the rise and fall of his chest, but no other stirring. Gwynn breathed a sigh of relief. He was out still, alive but unconscious. But he wouldn't be for long,

She turned off the polearm and dropped it, hurrying over to Coppelius, her sister, and the crystal blade.

"Are you alright?" She asked them both as she crouched in the snow.

"I am, but I don't think he is." Sorrel's voice was shaky from panic.

"I'll be fine," Coppelius groaned in a voice that suggested otherwise. "Hang on, I think—"

He raised a hand and cast another spell, bathing him in a shower of what looked like stardust. As it made contact with the cuts and Coppelius's leg, his skin shone like a small sun. Gwynn had no choice but to shield her eyes and avert her gaze.

When she could see him again, the cut was gone and his leg was put right again. But he sank into the snow, with dark circles under his eyes that weren't there before and a paler, weary face.

"Sorry, that took more out of me than I expected." With the help of Sorrel and Gwynn, he sat up and looked around him. "I really didn't want you to get caught up in all of this."

His eyes locked on Versailles and he stiffened. "We have to get out of here, before he wakes up."

Sorrel picked up the sword and wordlessly offered it to him. Coppelius said nothing. He did not take it, but rather stared at it.

"I really had hoped he would be here, not a sword." He sighed finally. "But I guess that it's for the better. It means Versailles hasn't found him."

"What is the deal with your father—and well, everything?" In the new quiet of just the wind between the trees and the renewed snowfall, Gwynn's head was spinning. Spider Queens and ancient magic and mysterious swords—it was all beyond what little fantasy Gwynn knew existed in this world.

"I will tell you, I promise." Looking into his eyes, Gwynn found she believed him. Even if she knew that the 'but' was coming. "But not here. Not until we're far away from him."

"You said that you had a ship that the Annwynese took," she said, looking skyward. "We'll need to get you that, won't we?"

Before he could answer, however, there came a roar unlike anything Gwynn had ever heard, and she could see in the clouds what looked like a thousand falling stars.

But even Gwynn knew that those weren't falling stars.