Quentin rolled his neck back and forth irritably. It still ached from when The Beast had nearly choked the life out of him. None of them could shake the memory of their murders. If it hadn't been for Alice's god power, they wouldn't have survived. Sitting around the picnic table in the back garden of the Knifemakers cottage, the Magicians were attempting to recuperate after their failed mission and unforeseen betrayal.

"So this Reynard's still out there?" Margo asked as Quentin massaged his temples to quell his pounding headache. He was unsure if it stemmed from explaining Julia's motives or the residual effects of his near death.

"As far as she knows. Yeah, it's why she needed the knife and why she needs The Beast." Quentin had spent the past half hour explaining Julia's resurfaced memory of Reynard The Fox. How the trickster god had intercepted her summoning of Persephone, and instead of healing her, Kady, and their friends, he'd massacred them and raped Julia.

"Okay, I get it now," Eliot conceded, "but I also have to say it's the dumbest thing she could possibly have done." Fen placed a platter of baked goods, fresh vegetables, and meats on the table before them. With a warm smile, he thanked her

"Like I said, she's not sane right now. I wouldn't be," sighed Quentin.

"So what are we supposed to do?"

"We find Lilly and kill The Beast," Penny spoke up from the end of the table. Since their temporary deaths, he'd been uncharacteristically compliant. He'd suffered the most as was evident by his stumped arms. Clutching the box containing his severed hands close to his chest, he looked to his companions earnestly. The absence of their friend had taken a toll on all of them. The empty seat at the table did not go unnoticed. Lilly was the glue that held them all together. How were they meant to pick up the pieces without her?

"He's right, y'know, it's awful, but Julia chose to double-cross us," Margo crossed her arms and sat back.

"Look, I'm pissed too but I'd like to point out--" Quentin started, only to be cut off by Alice.

"Okay, we don't have to take a vote right this second. Penny's right, first things first. We need to make a plan to get Lilly back and deal with The Beast. Penny, can't you just go pop over and tell her we're alive." Penny nodded towards his heavily bandaged stumps.

"I went back as soon as I woke up, but she was gone. I barely had enough energy for one trip, I can't go traveling all over Fillory to find her."

"Well, then we'll just do a locator spell," Elliot supplied.

"There's also the little problem of Alex being possessed." Quentin sighed, this was yet another wrench in the cogs of their nonexistent plan.

"If The Beast has control over him, then Brakebills is in some serious shit."

"So, find Lilly, stop Alex, kill Beast, piece of cake. Anything else we forgot to mention?" Eliot took a long desperate swig from his flask.

"If we're gonna do a locator spell on Lilly, we'll need something of hers." Margo rested her hands authoritatively on her hips.

"Oh! She left her pack with me last night. I'll go get it!" Fen jumped at the chance to be helpful. She'd been hovering as restlessly as a hummingbird since they started, trying to keep up with their plan. The others seemed to have forgotten she was there and were startled by her sudden outburst. As Fen hurried into the cottage, Quentin flipped vigorously through the pages of Fillory and Further.

"Um, okay, this might be something." Quentin paused on a page a little more than halfway into the book, "so there's a-a-a place called The Armory."

"Weapons?" Eliot cocked his head with interest.

"Books. Uh, So Rupert Chatwin, uh, he realizes that back home, World War II is still raging and he tells Jane and Martin that he is going-- he's--he's going to go fight. Before he does, uh, he spends all night in The Armory reading. Uh, and, uh, you know, like, whatever he finds, it doesn't say, but his next move is to petition Ember and Umber for strength." Quentin looked to each of them in turn, "I mean, what-- what if he found something? What if he found, uh, a spell or a piece of, I don't know, Fillorian Battle Magic that was so strong that he couldn't do it without--"

"Without juice?" Eliot seemed to perk up at this, leaning forward to see the page Quentin was reading from.

"Yeah, because the-- okay, the thing is, this is, uh, December 1944."

"I mean, he shows up right in the middle of the--"

"Battle of the Bulge," Alice's brows furrowed. "Wait, are you saying that Rupert secretly--"

"I'm saying, uh... maybe he found something powerful enough to help."

"And win World War II?" Alice's voice was disbelieving, yet tinged with hope.

"Maybe."

"Well then, I need The Armory. Where is it?" She demanded, jutting her chin towards the book.

"Castle Whitespire. Accessible to... the King." Quentin looked around the garden as if the answer would be written on a sign hidden within the ones labeling the tomatoes and carrots. "And if we can find the road, there's, um, a carriage that runs in a continuous circle, uh, also at the disposal of the King, so..." He patted Eliot on the arm lightly.

"Oh, hey..." Eliot mumbled unenthusiastically.

"Okay, Whitespire it is." Taping the table with his fingertips, Eliot declared their next destination. "I'll pack snacks."

"Yeah, uh, about that. My hands are in a fucking box," Penny pointed out despairingly, "so, Chatwin's Torrent?

"I-I know that one," lifting a finger, Eliot explained, "It's, um, it's a healing river."

"Can it reattach hands?"

"Maybe," Quentin shook his head with uncertainty.

"Then I'm going. If we're gonna get Lilly, it'll be a hell of a lot easier if I can travel," Penny's tone was dejected. He loathed being this useless when someone he cared about was in possible danger.

"Wait, no, I don't think you should be going alone." Alice eyed his missing appendages worriedly.

"I'll go," Margo volunteered, earning a handful of curious looks, "um, healing water? We're going to battle. I'll grab, like, a gallon." She brandished a waterskin facetiously.

"I got it!" Fen rushed over to them, slightly out of breath and carrying Lilly's backpack in her hands. "It's a lot heavier than I thought it'd be." With a thump, she deposited it onto the table, and Margo eagerly zipped open the top. Reaching her arm in, she rifled through its contents, discarding the countless items Lilly had packed until she found what she was looking for. With a triumphant smile, Margo produced a worn, paperback copy of Fillory and Further. Quentin recognized it immediately. This was the book Lilly read the most. Though it's value was no more than a soda can, it's pages had seen everything from the train, to the beach, and now Fillory. Corners had been folded over, leaving permanent kinks in the paper and a bow in the cover from where she'd held it open.

"What a fucking nerd," she chuckled, "I need a knife." Margo looked to Fen expectantly, and the young woman hastily pulled one from the pocket of her skirts. Once again, Margo reached into Lilly's bag, this time to grab a cheap, novelty map of Fillory. Lilly bought it off amazon in anticipation of their trip. The others helped her lay it out flat, using nearby stones to anchor the corners. The knife glinted in the afternoon sunlight as Margo lifted the tip to her finger. With a hiss of pain, she cut a small gash across her skin and lifted her hand above the map. Dark crimson blood dripped down onto the paper. Alice held out a cloth and Margo sloppily wrapped it around the wound, then lifted Lilly's book with her uninjured hand.

Fen looked on incredulously as Margo began to chant in a low voice. Her companions leaned forward to get a better look at the blood that had begun to trail across the map in a very deliberate and concise line. Margo's brow twitched in concentration as the blood inched along at a snail's pace. Instead of observing the map as the others had, Alice examined Margo intently. Her fist clenched around the book until her knuckles grew white, her skin tinged a faint shade of red. A vein had begun to bulge from her forehead.

"Margo, are you alright?" Everyone was staring at her now, and they too noticed her strain. Margo's voice turned hoarse, and as Alice glanced towards the map, she saw that the blood had begun to sizzle and steam. The crimson liquid roiled on the paper and ink as if fighting against Margo's influence. The map charred at the edges of the blood trail, until, all together, and not without due theatrics, the map burst into flames. Recoiling, they stared at the mini bonfire in disbelief.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Fen squeaked.

"No, it most definitely was not."

➺➺➺➺

Stiff brown leather clung to her every curve. As she observed her appearance in the mirror, she found it in herself to be appreciative of the ensemble. Lilly wished that the fighting leathers were only a fashion statement, but this could be the difference between life and death for her that night. During the trial, her torso and upper thighs would at least be protected if her opponent used a blade. Her arms were bare, save for a leather circlet around her bicep. It was to be assumed that these people favored mobility over full protection.

Lilly rubbed her precious clock necklace between her fingers pensively. She was eternally grateful that it hadn't been taken away when Saia searched her. Holding the pendant up towards her lips, she placed a tender kiss upon the cool metal. She prayed that wherever Eliza and the rest of her family was, they'd be watching over her tonight. Lilly tucked the necklace securely beneath her armor so it rested above her heart.

Her pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. The Bloodreigna made his decision and would not be swayed. She'd been ushered into one of the cottage bedrooms to change into her armor. They'd trustingly left her alone, and for a split second she'd had the urge to run, but to what? To whom? There was nowhere to go and no one left that she loved. Nothing left to fight for. The only training she had in combat was a women's self-defense class she'd taken freshman year of college. She was sure that they hadn't had this situation in mind when designing the curriculum. The ropes were still fastened securely around each of her wrists when a knock sounded from the door. An unfamiliar face poked his head through.

"It's time."

As she breathed in the fresh night air and followed the glow of firelight, she felt a sense of peace. It was not what she expected of a walk that would surely end in death. When her opponent delivered the final blow, she didn't know what would happen. Would she see a light at the end of a tunnel? Or would she simply cease to exist? Lilly wanted to believe that she'd be with her family again. Her mother and father, Jane, her friends, all taken from her by The Beast. She gripped the hilt of her dagger tighter, fists white with anticipation. Yes, she would die tonight, but she would not go down without a fight.

Tribal drumming matched the rapid thump of her heart. Through the trees, she could now make out the massive bonfire burning high enough to kiss the stars above. Shadows danced across the light and laughter floated along with the breeze towards her. All the joy extinguished the moment she stepped into the clearing. There were no children now. No- there wouldn't be, this was not for their eyes. Murmurs grew as the villagers stared at the foreigner.

Lilly kept her head high as the guard guided her to the center. Bloodreigna sat upon a throne of vines, intertwining in intricate twists and turns. Massive gnarled thorns armed the outer edge of his seat. On the back of his chair was perched a magnificent snow-white bird, roughly the length of her torso. Her mind somehow made the connection between this bird and the one she'd seen soaring above her in the desert. In the shadow of the angelic creature, the Bloodreigna looked anything but. Like a god in the firelight, his gaze pierced her armor with no resistance. This was not the peacemaker she'd met in the cottage mere hours before. She was in the presence of a warrior king, a Bloodreigna.

Beside him, stood Saia, strong, and proud. The lightweight desert clothing had been replaced with her own set of armor, similar to Lilly's. Her hair was pulled into elaborate warriors' braids, her arms left bare for mobility. The familiar dagger clutched in the warrior's hand confirmed that Saia would be her opponent. The guard stopped her before them and Bloodreigna raised a hand to silence the drummers.

"The rules are simple," he spoke loud enough for the entire clearing to hear. "The first to yield is the winner. Saia will represent The Valley in this battle. Should the outsider win, she walks free. Lose, she will be executed." Lilly kept her expression neutral and nodded stoically in acceptance. Saia smirked sadistically and stepped up so their shoulders were aligned. She leaned into Lilly's ear.

"I'll make it quick, Little Witch." Lilly clenched her jaw as Saia strode a few paces away to get in position. The villagers gathered, forming a wide ring around the fighters. A flicker of movement caught Lilly's eye from above. In the canopy of trees, she could just barely make out the shape of a child watching the proceedings from a secret vantage point. She wished whoever it was would return home before things turned lethal. Saia now appraised her with a feline gaze. Lilly knew not what to do, other than to grip her knife and prepare for the inevitable.

"Begin," silence fell upon the spectators as the women circled each other. Unwilling to break the temporary calm, Lilly waited. It didn't take long for the fight to start. In a flash, Saia crossed the distance, slashing her knife expertly. Lilly somehow managed to dodge the blow with a swift sidestep. She lashed out with her own weapon but struck only air. Saia danced across the firelight, an artist with the blade and Lilly her canvas. Lilly stumbled back to avoid her advances, but she was severely outmatched. Saia grabbed Lilly's knife arm and pulled the other woman against her chest. A millisecond before Saia's knife slit her throat, Lilly managed to throw her hand up between herself and the blade. The blade sliced deep into her palm and a shriek of agony cut through the night. In the moment that followed, Lilly hooked her foot around Saia's ankle and brought her to the ground with a grunt.

Saia recovered almost instantly as she hit the dirt and dragged her blade across Lilly's calf. Lilly fell with much less grace. Her head slammed down with a debilitating jolt of sharp pain. Her vision blurred and the moments seemed to slow to a snail's pace. Agonizing, ceremonial, final. In a show of defiance, she hoisted herself onto all fours. Her weapon glinted in the firelight a meter away. If she could reach it she may just have a chance. But as she crawled towards it, she was abruptly yanked back by her hair.

"Not so fast," Saia hissed, her hot breath sent tremors of fear through Lilly. The knife's edge nicked the delicate skin of her elongated neck, pressing hard enough that she felt a familiar trickle of blood being drawn. The spectators cheered at her compromised position. Lilly was in a bind that she couldn't wiggle out of. She reared her head back in hopes it would catch Saia off guard, but it only resulted in opening a gruesome gash on her throat. She felt the cool metal of her clock necklace slip from its hiding place and dangle tauntingly in the firelight.

"Enough! Stop!" The command startled both opponents into releasing each other. Bloodreigna had jumped up from his throne in a panic, the whites of his eyes on display as he stared her down. Lilly scrambled back away from Saia the moment the knife was removed and snatched up her own. Her dirt-caked palm pressed against the bloody wound on her throat and she emitted a strangled cry of pain from the contact. "Guards, bring her to my dwelling, immediately."

Three armed spectators split from the rest of the crowd instantly, not even hesitating at her feeble attempt to fight them off. The knife was ripped from her hands and strong arms gripped hers so tightly she was sure they could snap her bones without effort. Murmurs of confusion and cries of outrage followed them through the forest and back to Bloodreigna's cottage. Their leader's interference clearly was not planned, nor welcomed. The door slammed shut behind them and they were back in the privacy of the living room. The silence was strange in comparison to the near-riot they'd left behind. The guards kept their grip on her as Bloodreigna appraised her. His expression was astonished, disbelieving, terrified. Saia watched him closely with furrowed brows, confused and frustrated. He'd stolen her kill right from under her nose, and she was furious.

Bloodreigna's gaze dropped from Lilly's face to just below her clavicle, the spot where her necklace now fell on full display. Lilly's stomach sank. This was dangerous, even more so than before. The Chatwin name was a curse to those who bore it, and the only evidence of her lineage was now written plainly across her chest in the form of that very necklace.

"What the hell was that? I had her!" Saia spat, all decorum lost as she seethed at her leader. Bloodreigna took a step closer to Lilly as she squirmed in the guard's grip, ignoring his subject's seething.

"Where did you get that?" There was no mistaking who and what he was referring to. She needed to tread carefully, for one misstep could result in more than her single death. He continued to examine the piece of jewelry with a fervent gaze.

"It was a gift." He stepped closer and reached out hesitantly. Mere centimeters from the key, he paused, his breathing erratic.

"You stole it, didn't you?" The wonder in his eyes morphed into rage as he finally tore his gaze from the necklace and up to her face. Lilly leaned back as far as possible with the guards still holding her and set her jaw so as not to show weakness in the face of such hostility. "The only way you could have this is if it was taken by force." The accusation sent a jolt through her.

"It was given to me willingly," she defended.

"By whom?" He spat through clenched teeth.

"Jane Chatwin," Lilly's whisper was tentative. She had no way of knowing if this confession would be her salvation or her downfall. Bloodreigna stepped back abruptly.

"That can't be. She'd never- unless," the ire that had erupted at the sight of her necklace vanished in an instant. Lilly examined every flicker of emotion that crossed his face, for fear that this confession would be her undoing. Confusion, sorrow, disbelief, and hope? "Evelyn?"

"How do you know that name?"

"She's my-"

"Elias don't," Saia stepped forward, her voice as harsh as a bark.

"That's enough, Saia!" A cold fury ignited in Bloodreigna, Elias's eyes once again. It was unclear if it was due to her request or the informality of calling him by his given name. "I need to know," his voice softened at the end and he turned back to face Lilly. "You're her, aren't you? Evelyn," Lilly shook her head minutely, swallowing the lump in her throat at the mention of her mother's name. How did this man know who she was?

"No- no, Evelyn's dead," Elias's shoulders sagged in defeat and he sank into the nearest armchair. "Who was she to you?" Lilly eyed him skeptically and Saia shot him a warning look. Elias ignored her and lifted his chin to display misted eyes.

"My daughter," The breath caught in Lilly's throat. Her blood drained to her toes. There was a moment of heavy silence before the ghost of a smile quirked her lips.

"She was my mother."