It only took a day for Plenty to bring Owen to Dolores' home in the Enchanted Woods. It wasn't the most interesting journey, since the only times the fairy spoke she was complaining--her wings were sore, she stubbed her toe, she thought they were going to die, and on and on. Owen didn't talk to Plenty, of course. Why would he talk to a horse?

Above the boredom, Owen felt increasing pangs of worry. He hadn't seen Claire since she had disappeared in Lumbia's castle. At times he wondered if the moment for breaking her curse had already passed. These troubling thoughts plagued him for the rest of his travels, and Dolores's emphatic prophecies of doom and gloom weren't making him feel any better.

Owen was almost relieved when they ran into a demon bunny at the edge of the woods. It gave Plenty a fright and almost bit Owen's hand off, but at least it offered a distraction. Listening to a snarling animal was just a little bit better than a dismal fairy and his own turbulent thoughts.

Several more monotonous hours passed. "We're here," Dolores finally said with a doleful drone. "How miserable. I was just getting to enjoy the trip."

Owen sighed and started to dismount. She was never happy about anything. He looked around for anything that looked like a fairy house but found nothing. "Where is your house?" he asked.

Dolores let out a little whimper. "Houses take too long to make and are more trouble than they're worth. I just sit there. Right over there. In that patch of dirt. That's my home."

Owen looked incredulously at the area she was indicating. It looked just like any other spot of dirt in the forest. He shook his head, thinking, "Fairies are so strange."

Dolores shuffled over and settled heavily on the ground. "Home sweet home," she mumbled. "Not as sweet as they say it is, really."

"Excuse me," Owen said. "But where is the Gossamer Sphere? Where do you put it if you don't have a house?"

"I thought about burying it." The fairy's head was bowed, and Owen could barely hear her. "But dirt depresses me..."

"You're sitting in it right now..."

"I put it in a knothole in that tree," she continued, pointing lazily. "It's pretty big. Too big, I'm afraid."

Owen looked to the knothole, then back at the fairy. "Are you going to get it?"

"Nooo," Dolores moaned, leaning her head back in anguish.

"Fine, I'll get it," Owen said. "You can stop moaning."

"No I can't!"

Owen turned and walked away, toward the knothole. He could have been more irritated, but he decided not to be. The fairy was helping him, after all.

When Owen reached his hand into the hole, he felt something warm and alive. As he quickly withdrew his hand, a voice shouted out at him. "Get your filthy hands off me, peasant!"

The voice was familiar. Owen ducked down until he was looking into the knothole. "Bernard? What are you doing in there?"

The pig prince's snout quivered in indignation. "I can be wherever I want to be, thank you very much!"

"But what happened to Cassidy?"

Bernard snorted and rolled his eyes. "Her curse was broken. She's all human in the real world now, and all tree here. That's okay. I didn't need her anyway." His voice caught in his throat. He obviously wasn't taking it as well as he pretended to.

"Furthermore, I no longer had someone to make sure I didn't get snatched," Bernard continued. "So I moved into Dolores' tree. She and I get along well enough. We both despise everything, so at least we have something in common."

Owen suppressed a chuckle. "Is there a Gossamer Sphere in the tree with you?" he asked.

Bernard made a nasty face at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Gossamer Sphere--round ball, looks like it's made out of crystal."

"Oh, that thing." Bernard grimaced. "It's been jabbing into me this whole time. If you want to take it, be my guest." The pig poked back into the hole and came out again with the Sphere in his mouth.

Owen took the Sphere and wiped the pig's saliva off on his pants. "Thank you," he said, then turned to walk away. "Goodbye, Bernard."

Bernard shimmied out of the tree and landed on the ground. "Where are you going with that thing?" he called after him.

Plenty was standing nearby. Owen went to the horse's side before responding. "I'm going to the edge. I'm officially leaving Etherea."

Bernard snorted in surprise. "Are you serious? You're going to be gone? For good?"

Owen nodded and swung over onto Plenty's back. "If you want to say goodbye, do it now."

"Good riddance."

Owen rolled his eyes. "Good luck breaking your curse," he said. Then he turned forward, taking a moment to remember Honeyflower's strange horse commands. "Adventure!"

Plenty started to trot, and with some urging from Owen, the horse was galloping quickly in the direction of the edge.

Dolores stood up from her patch of dirt and sighed. "Don't you think it's so sad that he's leaving?"

Bernard huffed. "Of course not." Then he added under his breath, "If anything, I'm happy for him."

He turned and trotted back to the tree, settling into the knothole with a sigh.

~*~

The wind whipped harshly around Owen and out over the expanse of nothingness that stretched before him. The glow of his last Etherean sunset mingled with the colorful streams of magical fog that cascaded over the edge like a waterfall.

Owen stared out over the drop, his breath held with anticipation. It was farther down than he could have imagined, but he wasn't afraid because of the height. He was nervous about what would happen next.

"Why am I afraid?" he asked himself. "I just need to jump, and then I can break the curse." The more he thought about it, though, the more frightened he became. What if he was too late?And even if he wasn't, what would the world be like after a hundred years? What would it be like with almost everyone he had known gone?

"I made this choice. I chose Claire." Owen sighed. Things would certainly be different. But they would still be good.

He held the Gossamer Sphere, making sure he had it securely in his fingers. The wind tugged at him as he inched closer to the edge, threatening to pull him over. He didn't mind. He was ready.

"Goodbye, Etherea," he whispered. "I'm coming, Claire."

His heart pounding, he stepped into thin air.

"Goodbye, Owen," a voice said from behind him.

In the first few seconds of his fall, Owen only felt confused. No one had been around him. There had only been Plenty. "Did the horse just talk?"

Then his thoughts were jumbled as he was surrounded in fog. He felt as if his mind was being stretched and compressed at the same time. Flashes of hot and cold shot through him. Then all vivid sensations faded away.

~*~

Owen woke up with a gasp. He was lying on the edge of the pond near the castle. He half expected himself to be soaking wet after coming out of the water, but he was completely dry.

As he pulled himself to his feet, he blinked repeatedly, wondering if the colors in the real world had always seemed so dull. When he turned to look for the castle in the distance, he grew even more confused. Had those terrifying vines always been there?

"Is it possible for roses to be that overgrown?" Owen muttered. He starting walking, wondering if the vines would make entering the castle difficult. He looked around, surprised at how little the rest of the scenery had changed. There were many more weeds, but that was the only noticeable difference.

"Claire's probably covered in dust," Owen thought, smiling a little. "Cobwebs, too. I wonder what she'll think of that when she wakes up?"

He would have to see. The castle awaited. The curse was about to end.

~*~

Ira could feel him traveling from Etherea back to the real world. She knew the moment he had come. She set out from her palace with haste, boiling with rage as Dearth carried her with enchanted speed toward the sleeping princess's castle.

"He actually made it through," she fumed. "Why did he make it through? Etherea should have killed him!"

Dearth made a low, rumbling noise deep in his throat.

"Yes, you agree. He's ruining my curse! He and that fairy are fools to mess with me!"

With a cry of rage, she launched off a bolt of magic. The tree that it hit instantly disintegrated into dust.

"Did you see that, Dearth?" Ira asked. "That's what I'm going to do with that meddling boy. Or something worse."

The horse tossed his pitch-black mane and whinnied with excitement.