"EMPRESS, THIS IS A TERRIBLE DECISION," Ophelia Fowler said as she ran down the staircase towards Valencia and Elliot.

A sleek black car awaited them outside. A second car full of armed guards would follow them.

"It's nine p.m," Ophelia added, "It'll be midnight when we enter the north forest."

"It's a chance we need to take," Valencia said. "We have to find Auden while the enchantress and Ronan find our second enemy."

Valencia knew the kind of danger they were driving into. The north forest had an eerie reputation that worsens at night. But if they wanted to find Auden before he ran away again, Valencia knew they needed to leave now.

The trio entered the armored car one by one. Ophelia was the last to get in. "Not even these guards can help us in the north forest."

Elliot, who sat in the passenger seat, said, "It can't be that bad."

Valencia and Ophelia exchanged knowing glances.

"Try to sleep through it," Valencia advised. "Then the worse that can happen is you have some nightmares."

The car lurched forward. No one spoke that nightmares were the least of their concerns. The heat in the car was welcoming compared to the blistering cold wind howling outside. In pensive silence, the car approached the north forest.

Valencia's mind wandered to her earlier conversation with Elliot as large evergreen trees loomed over them. She didn't understand what came over her in those moments that she speaked so truthfully. She still didn't know what he thought of her or why she cared what Elliot thought.

The empress had spoken to Elliot about a higher power. What he didn't know was that Valencia's higher power is a demonic shadow she loved. Her devil knew best.

The trees looked like hands ready to grab her out of the car. Valencia looked around and noticed Elliot was fast asleep and Ophelia had begun to dose off. Staring out of the car's left window, Valencia shuddered at the midnight darkness. Save for the faint outline of the trees, she saw nothing. The car's headlights offered the driver a better view of the road, but Valencia wondered how long the driver would last before the eeriness of the north forest caught up to him.

Something about the north forest felt strange. In Lehuan folklore, the north forest was a devastating place, where witches lured travelers off the road and left their corpses to rot. The trees whispered the dead's names and the midnight sky never lit up over this part of the Lehuan empire. But Valencia knew that couldn't be true, that magic didn't exist in Lehua.

At least not until this week.

Sleep wished to lull her away. But Valencia's devil forced her eyes open.

Watch, he said.

The devil painted a picture for her eyes only. The car faded away, leaving Valencia standing in the Lehuan palace. She stood in a ballroom with tall marble pillars and a glass ceiling where the stars and full moon illuminated the room. One by one, the devil turned on rows of warm yellow lights. Valencia looked down at herself, surprised to see herself wearing a silver gown embroidered with white flowers.

Twirl for me, the devil asked.

She did. The empress felt magical as she spun underneath the night sky. The devil's cold hands slid up her bare arms. Valencia stopped, sighing at his touch. He hugged her from behind and wrapped his hands around Valencia's slender neck. The devil carefully moved his hand up to Valencia's cheeks, and abruptly pinched them together.

The empress gasped.

Her eyes went wild with fear. She trashed around trying to grasp onto her devil's body, but there was nothing there to grab, and yet she felt his brutal touch.

Don't you trust me, the devil whispered.

"I do!" Valencia screeched with her cheeks still squished in his hands.

Yet she thought: don't you know this scares me?

The devil moved Valencia's face forcefully, so she faced the middle of the ballroom.

And there's our guests of honor, the devil said.

And just like that, Homer and Elliot materialized in the ballroom. The empress looked at one, then the other. Was it really them? She felt unsure. Could they feel and hear her devil?

Valencia's devil let go of her. She wanted to run.

"May I have this dance?" Homer asked, hand outstretched.

He wore a navy blue suit. A gold ring adorned his finger. Valencia looked at Elliot first, silently begging him to do something. It's like he didn't even notice, like he was caught in his own daydream. The empress took Homer's hand and he pulled her close.

Their brown eyes stared deep into each other, searching for some rememberance of friendship and love. They danced to soft music but Valencia's heart thundered inside. She felt too close to Homer.

"I can't."

You must, her devil laughed.

"Valencia, don't you remember me?" Homer said, "Your like family. Until that night."

Valencia swallowed back her sadness and fear. "Why did you come to my home with a knife? Why did you want to kill me?"

"I would never hurt you. Not in this lifetime, and not in the next, or the ones after that."

This is not real. This is not real.

Valencia pushed Homer away. The ginger-haired man stumbled back. Valencia turned and began walking to Elliot. Her silver dress started to feel heavy, weighing her down. Her dress melted into the floor, into some silver goopy mess that her feet were stuck in.

Valencia knew she was sinking.

She screamed.

Her violent scream caught Elliot's attention. He stormed towards her, yelling back, "What's wrong?"

She wanted to strangle him. "Don't you see? I can't move! My dress...I'm stuck!"

Elliot eyed her up and down. "You're fine. Just walk."

He gave her his hand and but no matter what Valencia did, she couldn't free herself.

"Don't you see my dress melting...?"

Elliot shook his head, but then, he saw. With his shock he recoiled and let go of Valencia's hand. The empress's gown with its beautiful embroidery puddled around her feet, chaining her to the floor. Elliot looked up. Her sleeves were melting off too, her chest slowly exposed.

"What's that?" he pointed to Valencia chest.

She looked down, not at all surprised to see Homer's name stitched onto her skin, right above her heart. Valencia's arms covered her chest, hoping to stop the melting. Elliot's fingers traced over the name.

"A reminder of who I am," Valencia answered, eyes looking down, a frown forming.

And now it was Elliot who was too close to her. So close she could see flecks if blue in his grey eyes. So close his pink lips practically touched her's. She knew he felt it too. That electric, all-knowing, ominous feeling. A silent dread. A beating heart. A shattered diamond glued together. The feeling of wanting, needing, knowing.

Elliot's hand snaked around her face, tugging Valencia back by the hair. They watched and waited for an eternity before his lips sunk into her's. Her back arched. His hands explored her body with slow, deliberate, gentle touches. The pair felt honest and true.

A violent force pushed Valencia off of Elliot. Their arms were outstretched as they flew away from each other, fingers almost touching, almost saving each other. Valencia's dress no longer melted. As she hit the floor, she saw him.

Homer, who's name was etched on her heart forever.

Pain ran through her body. Sleep welcomed her. Her eyes closed at the sight of Homer's devious half-smile and Elliot, in the distance, surrounded by blood.

•   •   •

SHE AWOKE IMMEDIATELY. She was flung forward as the car braked suddenly. Beads of sweat glistened on the empress's tan skin. Her wild eyes searched for Elliot.

He was gone.

She carelessly flung open the car door and jumped outside. She stood on a dirt road with the north forest behind her. In front of her was a clearing, and she knew immediately why they stopped.

The bridge.

"Valencia!" Ophelia said, "Come back!"

She turned to face the car. "Where's Elliot?"

"He just stepped out. Get inside!"

Relief flooded through her body. He was okay and she knew Ophelia was right to be worried. Valencia sat in the car with her feet hanging outside the door. Time slowed down. She watched the sunrise with its orange and gold glow over the ocean that seperated them and the North Isle.

Elliot slowly walked back. Valencia didn't know how she felt about that strangely passionate kiss. It didn't matter anyway, knowing that he didn't die.

"Do you remember?" Elliot whispered, practically emotionless.

His hand touched his lips. A signal. Like he was really there in Valencia's fever dream.

She nodded. She feared for him, not even being able to imagine how he felt being killed by Homer. What's worse, is that if Elliot remembered everything, so must Homer.

The odd thing, Valencia thought, is that Homer is dead.