Edgar reappeared on a barren hill, looking over a vast field of prickly briars. He glanced around, but couldn't see Cassima. He called her name but received no reply. As he put on his pendant again and surveyed the landscape, he realized that this wasn't Daventry. Rosella had told him that Daventry was a beautiful place, dappled with fertile forests, rushing rivers and craggy cliffs, and even when that foul dragon terrorized it, it remained green in at least some spots. This land had no plant life whatsoever, save for the field of briars, and the soil was as dusty and dry as a desert.

Far away, in the very center of the briars was the last thing that Edgar would have expected to find in such a desolate land: a small castle. It looked quite ancient and weather-beaten, but still appeared habitable. It seemed impossible to think that any people were living in such a place, but Edgar made up his mind to investigate the castle nonetheless. The briars made approaching the castle on foot impossible, but Edgar had another means of travel at his disposal.

He unpacked his skyship, fastened the foot straps to it and stepped aboard. As he sailed above the fiendish, prickly brambles, he wondered why the pendant had deposited him in this land rather than Daventry. Even when the pendants couldn't work accurately, they always attempted to do the next best thing. Edgar recalled thinking of Aubrey when he had been trying to picture Daventry, but this couldn't be where Aubrey lived. It wasn't Etheria, it wasn't like any place in Eldritch, and he couldn't think of any country that Rosella or any of her relatives had encountered that looked even remotely like this one. Still, he suspected that he would learn why he had come to this land eventually.

For a moment, he wondered whether Cassima had made it to Daventry, then dismissed the thought. If he hadn't made it there, then neither had she. Something told him that they simply couldn't defeat Shadrack while separated, and he suspected that the pendants were somehow aware of this as well.

Edgar soon neared the castle, which was strikingly basic in its construction, and not very pleasing to the eye. It was tall, angular and irregular, with a single tall tower and a plain, firmly shut drawbridge, which Edgar couldn't force open, no matter how hard he tried. There wasn't even an open courtyard that Edgar could fly down into. Whoever built this castle was woefully short on money, help or resources – possibly all three.

There were several small windows piercing the walls of the castle, but only one of them – an arch-shaped aperture near the top of the drawbridge, some twenty feet above the ground – was large enough for Edgar to fit through.

Unfortunately, he sped through the window a little too quickly, for once he had entered the dark interior of the castle, the side of his skyship clipped an adjacent wall and spun out of control. Edgar stared down at his ship. The starboard side was horribly crushed, and fragments of wood were flaking away from it. Edgar suddenly found himself unable to control the ship. Scrimshaw screeched frantically, untangled himself from Edgar's hood and flapped away. The skyship began falling rapidly, and Edgar barely had time to dislodge his feet from the foot straps and jump free from the doomed craft before it crashed to the hard-packed dirt of the castle's ground floor.

Bruised and stunned, but otherwise unhurt, Edgar lay still for several seconds before getting up and looking behind him at the once proud remains of his faithful (though tiny) skyship. It had shattered into a pile of fragments barely big enough to use as kindling when it had hit the ground, and was irreparable, even by someone with skills in magic.

Although it was just a ship that sailed through the air, Edgar felt as if he had lost a part of himself. He sadly knelt and gathered up the foot straps and the ship's prow – the largest remaining piece of the craft – and reverently tucked them away. At least he would have something to remind him of his skyship.

He stood up and looked around the large room he now found himself in. It was almost completely bare; the only features that stood out to Edgar were the raised drawbridge, a steep flight of stairs to the north and an enormous pair of interlocking gears against the west wall.

As he examined the room more carefully, he was startled to find several men lying on the ground and against the walls, all of them in a deep, comatose slumber. It looked as if sleep had overcome them immediately, without even giving them the chance to lie down first.

A nervous chirp made him look up. Scrimshaw was perched on a stone jutting out of the castle's inner wall, quite out of reach. As usual, none of Edgar's cajoling could persuade him to come down. The griffin wasn't going to leave his perch until he wanted to.

Edgar made his way towards the staircase. He could see another man slumped on the steps, as if the fellow had just been walking down them when whatever had made all the others fall asleep hit him. Edgar nudged the man with his foot, but the man was as limp and unresponsive as a bag of grain. There was something terribly wrong with both the castle and the land surrounding it. It had to be a curse of some kind, and Edgar had no idea how to go about breaking it. All he could do now was explore the castle and learn everything he could about it – after all, with his skyship destroyed, he was not only grounded, but trapped in this castle unless he could find another way out or thought of another land to travel to using his pendant.

As Edgar was starting up the steps, he noticed a torch mounted on the wall to his left. Naturally, the torch wasn't burning, but the upturned decorative arch beneath it caught Edgar's eye. It had two gems set in it, one blue, one yellow, and the stone itself was painted gold and white. Edgar instantly knew that it wasn't a mere decoration – it was two more of those infernal trinkets, placed end to end. He was easily able to pry them from the wall and pull them apart – the man who designed this castle definitely wasn't an expert on furnishing it.

Edgar now had twelve trinkets, enough to form a complete circle, but his understanding of the pieces was no clearer than before. He almost knew the appearance of the trinkets by heart now: two were white, two were light green, two were a richer green, two were golden, and the remaining four were a combination of the preceding colors. The gemstones were an amethyst, a sapphire, a ruby, a turquoise, a diamond, an emerald, a garnet, an aquamarine, a pearl, an opal, a topaz, and the green-yellow stone set in the trinket he found in the physician's storeroom, the name of which he still couldn't think of.

But wait…he did know what that stone was. It was a peridot. But he hadn't known it was a peridot before. He hadn't even heard the name peridot until…until…

Until he and Cassima brought those pendants together.

While they were trying to keep their minds at a distance, his puzzlement over the identity of the yellow-green gem must have leapt into Cassima's mind. Cassima – apparently much more familiar with precious stones than Edgar – must have mentally examined the image of the stone and identified it as a peridot, and its image had leapt back into Edgar's mind with a name attached to it.

It was an interesting discovery, and certainly a novel way of exchanging knowledge, but nonetheless, Edgar was still slightly afraid of the pendants, and he hoped that none of his more personal thoughts had found their way into Cassima's head as well.

Turning to the right, he saw a door further up the stairs, but found it securely locked. He continued trudging up the stairs, which appeared to be spiraling upward, passing another sleeping man and soon coming across another door, this time on the left. Unfortunately, it was locked as well.

Further up the spiral staircase was a third door, which was just as inaccessible as the previous two. When Edgar reached a fourth door, however, it opened easily when he lifted and pulled on its handle.

The room the door concealed was quite cramped and unfurnished. The only things in the room were a large wooden lever protruding from a chink in the floor, and a pair of chains that came out of a large square opening in the floor and disappeared through a similar opening in the ceiling. Edgar tried pulling and pushing the lever and yanking on the chains, but when neither action yielded any results, he left the room and continued climbing the seemingly endless stairs.

By the time he finally reached the top of the stairs after rounding the tower an indefinite number of times, his legs were aching and he was short of breath. In front of him was yet another door, similar to the others except for a huge metal plaque in the shape of a unicorn's head set in it. Unsure of what the plaque meant – or whether it had any meaning at all – Edgar tried the door, found it unlocked and stepped inside.

The circular room he found himself in was almost as plain and undecorated as the rest of the castle, but it was considerably different as well. A long, narrow bed lay against the back wall, illuminated by a small sconce and flanked by two unlit candlesticks. Lying on the bed, her hands clasped upon her chest and sleeping tranquilly, was a girl. She couldn't have been much older than Edgar, yet her face seemed oddly youthful. Her body was swathed in sheets in a peculiarly decorative fashion, and she lay stiffly on the mattress, almost as if she were dead, though Edgar could see her chest rise and fall with her breath.

She was beautiful, yet far from perfect. Her pale skin contrasted almost alarmingly with her dark, rust-colored hair, which cascaded off the side of the bed like a red waterfall. Her nose was small and rounded, and on it was the faintest trace of freckles. She seemed rather plain in every other respect except for her hair – it was parted in a sharp zigzag that sliced its way along the top of her head. It was an odd way for someone to wear their hair, but what made it even odder was Edgar's feeling that he had met this woman before, even though he was certain he hadn't.

Edgar looked around the rest of the room. The only other furnishings aside from the bed and the objects beside it were a padded bench and two more candlesticks against the opposite wall. They bordered a small window, through which Edgar could see the entire field of briars and much of the land beyond. He had to be at the top of the tower that he had seen from the outside, and he could see nearly all of the surrounding country. It was just as desolate and deserted as the patch of it he had seen when he had first arrived. This castle had to be hundreds of miles from any city or town, and it would be easy for travelers to get lost in this featureless land. Did anyone even know that this castle full of slumbering people was out here, surrounded by an impenetrable barrier of thorn bushes? How long had this poor girl been lying here in this deep slumber…and more importantly, how much longer would she lie here?

The stories of Edgar's childhood came rushing back to him. He had encountered this scenario before – this castle had been placed under a magic spell that caused everyone within to fall asleep and the surrounding land to grow inhospitable and barren. Just like it said in the stories, the castle was circled by a protective wall of thorns and a maiden had been imprisoned within. According to the stories, there was only one way to break the spell not only on her, but on all of the castle's inhabitants…

No, Edgar thought to himself. I can't do that. It wouldn't be right.

But if you don't, she may not be found for another hundred years.

If the stories are true, she won't age, Edgar told himself. She'll be just as young and beautiful as she is now in a hundred years.

But think of all she will have missed – think how much her world will have changed in another hundred years! All of her family will be dead and gone, her homeland won't be the same one she left behind…

I'm not doing it, Edgar thought. I love Rosella. I'm not going to kiss another woman.

There are times when one must do such things, even if they risk bringing turmoil to your life. It's not a matter of remaining loyal to Rosella – it's a matter of doing what you feel is right.

It was as if the other Edgar he had encountered on the Isle of Wisdom had taken up residence inside his head. Edgar was finding it difficult to out-argue whomever this voice belonged to.

I'm not kissing someone I don't love, he protested.

Trying not to act like Cassima, eh?

Edgar paused. He had forgotten all about the conversation with Cassima that morning.

She didn't kiss you because she intended to betray her husband's trust, the voice explained. She did it because she cared for you and saw that you needed help. She did what she felt was right…and it worked, didn't it?

Yes, Edgar thought shamefacedly, It did.

Well, now it's your turn. You won't be doing this maiden anything but good. Trust me – it will all turn out for the better.

If you say so, Edgar thought. But one last question…

Yes?

Are you…me?

The voice seemed to chortle slightly.

Do you really need to ask?

There was silence after that. Edgar gazed at the sleeping girl with the dark red hair. Her lips were small and pink, untouched by any form of makeup. She was as plain as the rest of the castle, but her loveliness shone through nonetheless. Edgar doubted that he would love her even if he had never met Rosella, but he was sure that there were many men who would beg for this girl's hand in marriage the second they set eyes on her.

He took a step closer to the slumbering maiden, swallowed hard, then slowly bent over her, his mouth slowly approaching hers.

Please forgive me, Rosella, he pleaded.

Edgar hadn't expected the spell to be broken immediately. A spell as complex as this would undoubtedly take some time to be completely lifted. The books that chronicled stories like this had reported that after the sleeping maiden was kissed, she and the rest of the castle's inhabitants awakened immediately, but Edgar figured that this was just some artistic license on the chronicler's part.

As he was watching the girl and wondering just how long it would take her to wake up, he heard a loud, anguished cry coming from outside the window. He hurried to it and peered out. In the distance, beyond the brambles, standing on the same hill that Edgar had appeared on was a tall, yellow-haired man. He looked faintly familiar, but Edgar decided to speak to him first:

"Halloooo!" he called. "Who's there?"

"What?" the stranger shouted. "You're awake? I thought everyone in this castle was in an enchanted slumber!"

Edgar gaped in amazement. He knew that voice.

"Aubrey!" he yelled. "It's me, Aubrey! It's Edgar!"

"Edgar?" Aubrey echoed in astonishment. "That lone fairy from Aeolus? How in the name of the Winds did you get here??"

"It's a long story! But how did you get here? And where is here?"

"If my memory is correct, this land is called Lycathia," Aubrey yelled back. "And concerning how I got here, that's a long story too, friend. But like I said when we first met, I am determined to get into this castle – I know Ashni is in there somewhere."

Of course – Edgar now recalled their conversation in Aeolus and how Aubrey had said he was seeking a far-off land that had fallen under a curse in search of an imprisoned maiden…the maiden that Edgar had just kissed.

"Ashni?" Edgar repeated. What an oddly beautiful name…oddly familiar, too. "Is she the maiden you spoke of when we last talked?"

"Certainly she is!" Aubrey laughed. "What did you think Ashni was, a cat? Anyway, I learned the location of this place, but no one told me that there was going to be such a nasty barrier around it. I need your help."

"Sure! What can I do?"

"Find the controls that work the drawbridge and lower it," Aubrey commanded.

"But that bridge is much too short to reach you out there!" Edgar protested.

"Just lower the bridge," Aubrey said. "I know what I'm doing. Just tell me when you're about to lower it."

"All right," Edgar shrugged. "Just a moment."

He turned from the window and made his way to the door. The maiden still appeared to be sleeping. Edgar wondered whether kissing her had really done any good. That voice in his head seemed adamant about his doing it…but what if it was wrong? If the voice was his own, there was always that chance…he had turned out to be spectacularly wrong on multiple occasions.

As Edgar trudged down the stairs, he took another look inside the only other room whose door wasn't locked, examining the chains and the lever. Were these the controls that worked the drawbridge? If they were, they didn't appear to be working. Edgar couldn't see anything visibly wrong with the controls…but perhaps these weren't the only mechanisms associated with the drawbridge.

He hurried down the winding staircase, making it to the ground floor (which was still populated by several slumbering bodies) in less than a minute. He noticed the huge gears to his right – what if they were somehow part of the drawbridge's opening mechanism? He approached the humongous gears, and noticed that a small but sturdy stick was wedged between the gears' teeth. With some effort, Edgar was able to yank the stick out. The gears remained motionless, which was just as well.

With the gears no longer jammed, Edgar hiked back up to the control room and pulled the lever. This time there was a low, distant rumbling noise, and the chains beside him began to move, one moving up, the other moving down. The drawbridge had to be opening. Edgar raced out of the control room and bounded up to the tower room, running to the window and breathlessly shouting:

"It's coming down, Aubrey!"

"I hear!" Aubrey bellowed back.

From Edgar's vantage point, he could clearly see the drawbridge slowly lowering. It would be at least three minutes before the thing was completely open. Why did Aubrey want Edgar to lower it, though? There was no way he could reach it from where he stood.

As Edgar gathered breath to ask Aubrey what he intended to do once the drawbridge was lowered, Aubrey suddenly raised a hand and held it out in front of him, in the direction of the drawbridge. He became as still and silent as a statue.

Edgar turned back to the drawbridge and gasped. The drawbridge had grown. It was at least half again as big as it had been before. Not only that, but it was still increasing in length as it slowly creaked open. Edgar's eyes snapped back to Aubrey, then to the drawbridge again, and the prince knew what was happening. He watched in mute amazement as the bridge continued to lengthen as it dropped. By the time it had finished lowering, it formed a colossal bridge that spanned the entire field of briars, creating a straight path leading directly into the castle.

Aubrey lowered his hand. As far away as he was, Edgar could still make out the look of smug accomplishment on the man's face.

"What the…" Edgar stammered. "Aubrey, how did you do that?"

Aubrey shrugged.

"I was just born with it, I guess," he laughed, sounding a little winded. "I'll be right up, Edgar!"

He started walking across the newly created path through the brambles. At his current pace, it would be some time before he reached the tower. Edgar turned away from the window and decided to rest on the nearby bench until Aubrey arrived. The prospect of explaining why he had kissed Ashni didn't appeal to him, but hopefully he wouldn't have to bring it up. He would be in enough trouble when and if Rosella found out about it.

As he sat by the window, the pendant hanging from his neck began to glow. He instinctively looked up as a familiar face appeared in front of his eyes.

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