After a countless number of stitches, Theodore Butters now stood before them, limply, droopingly, like a haphazardly thrown together rag doll.

The tall, pale, naked corpse stared blankly in Cora's direction. His eyes remained murky, empty, and soulless. The pale blue orbs of Theodore's soul continued to float around him like miniature moons orbiting the planet to which they were anchored.

Mere moments ago, Cora's powers had manipulated the enchanted needle and crimson thread in pushing, pulling motions through the gashes and breaks along edges of Mr. Butters' flesh to rejoin the poor man's scattered parts into a whole once more. Her impromptu surgical incisions left trails of distinct red-threaded dashes running across his skin like teeny tiny train tracks.

Cerberus gave the battered-looking fellow a quick once over.

The hellhound didn't mince words as he remarked, "The man looks positively ghastly. Horrid. You have truly done him a disservice, my sweet. Perhaps you should have left the poor bastard to his own devices. He was far handsomer before you rearranged him into his present state."

Cora winced. "Do you suppose Theodore will take offense to his, ah, new appearance?"

At this time, Nahemah chose to emerge from her elongated silence.

She exclaimed softly to Cora, "Pay no mind to the hound, pretty gatekeeper! You have put him back together marvelously! I trusted that you would be able to pull off such a feat! Now! All you have left to do is to return those pesky fragments of his soul back into his body, and I shall be able to take care of the rest..."

Cora nodded. Then, she frowned. "But what about the others?"

"The others?" Nahemah echoed questioningly. For once, the demoness appeared genuinely perplexed. "What do you mean, gatekeeper? Explain yourself."

"I believe I can now return Noctis and Theodore's souls back to their bodies, but I cannot seem to sense the souls of Lianna, Luna, or Circe's sister..."

"You mean, their souls are not present?

"They are not."

At this, Nahemah's eyes grew wide. Her eyes drifted over to the hovering, frozen form of the tall, spindly witch.

"What did you say the sister's name was again?" she demanded.

"Why, I—" Cora paused and frowned, "—once called her Mathilde. Aunt Mathilde."

"No," Nahemah barked tersely, "I need her real name."

Sensing something was amiss, Cora replied nervously, "Circe said that they are very old. And that they have lived many lives under many different guises and many different monikers..."

"Oh, Beezlebub's balls!" Nahemah cursed angrily. "We have been foiled! These witches are far more insidious than I gave them credit for..."

Cora gasped. "Foiled? How can this be?"

Cerberus growled in belittling tones, "My, my, some dark succubus you turned out to be! Useless! Absolutely useless!"

Nahemah shot Cerberus a dagger-like glare. "Hush, you foolish pup! You know nothing!"

She then turned to Cora with a slight grimace. "Alas, Circe's sister must be a very old and very powerful witch. These witches are typically known as high witches in wiccan societies. A high witch's name, when kept secret, can hide deep, dark magic and warp and twine the threads of fate in an almost goddess-like manner. She must be hiding their souls somewhere in this realm away from our prying eyes and the magic from my summoning circles."

Cora's face fell. "How can we release the souls that she is hiding from us?"

The succubus sighed. "We must first learn of her real name to unlock the spells she has put in place, and, I assure you, this task shall not be an easy one."

Cora glanced at Cerberus helplessly. "Oh, dear, Cerberus! This does not bode well for our mission at all."

"It certainly does not," he agreed grimly. "Do you have any ideas about how we might be able to uncover the high witch's real name?"

Cora suddenly remembered another small detail from her conversation with the witches from not so long ago.

A few simple rules before we set you off on your first task.

Number one. You may open any door except for the ones with this symbol on it.

There's dark magic hidden behind those particular doors.

"When I first stumbled through the threshold," Cora mumbled softly, "the witches warned me to stay away from doors marked by a special symbol. To me, the symbol looked like a circle with a cross, or large 'X,' inside of it. Do you suppose we might be able to find clues relating to the high witch's real name if we found a way to enter those doors?"

"A circle with a cross embedded within, you say?" the succubus mused. "I am familiar with this symbol. Mortals have called it many names through the centuries. Woden's Wheel. The Sun Cross. The Pagan Cross. Witches, in particular, like to use it as a form of protection."

"Against what?" Cora asked.

Nahemah smiled tritely. "Against what they believe to be evil. Against the inevitable. Against... death."

Cora gasped again as a slew of staggering realizations unfurled inside her head.

She breathed in astonishment, "Oh, my..."

Nahemah proceeded to utter Cora's very thoughts out loud, "I believe the witches put those symbols on the doors to protect them—from you, pretty gatekeeper."

The demoness cast a look in Cerberus' direction. "And you as well, hound."

Cora whispered, "Circe and her sister knew. They knew their time was running out because their powers had been running on fumes for quite a while. They needed me here to maintain the structural integrity of the In Between. Yet, the witches knew all along that Cerberus and I would be coming for them, and, so, in preparation, they have done everything possible to make our jobs impossible..."

Cora gazed upon the witches. Right before her eyes, Circe and her sister remained still as statues, continually hovering in the air inside Nahemah's circles. They were, supposedly, the trapped ones. Oddly, however, Cora couldn't shake the feeling that she was the one who had walked into an even more elaborate trap.

Dread pierced her heart.

From the very, very beginning, the witches had set up a most intricate labyrinth of powerful magic and fragmented souls and broken memories in this realm. The layers upon layers of missing, incomplete, and entangled components had been put in place to prevent her, or Cerberus, from ever being able to ferry them to the Great Beyond.

Well played, Circe, Cora thought to herself. Well played, High Witch.

But she refused to surrender.

Cora set her jaw with resolve. She shot Cerberus a determined look. "Cerberus! Come hell or high water, we must find a way to break down those doors!"

Cerberus's fangs gleamed as he grinned back at her. "My sweet, are you suggesting a bit of destruction and mayhem?"

"I am indeed," she sniffed.

"In that case," Cerberus drawled, "I think I know just the demons who may be able to help us with this next task..."

"Oh, dear," Cora grumbled. "More demons?"

"More demons!" Cerberus reiterated with relish. His blood-red eyes gleamed with excitement.

Cora prompted anxiously, "Should I be mildly concerned or very worried, Cerberus?"

"You should feel completely at ease, my sweet," Cerberus reassured her, "because I intend to summon my brothers. They are a mostly trustworthy lot. Except for maybe Orthrus. None of us like him. But he is weak, and I could easily snap him in two whenever he steps out of line!"