He doesn't stay asleep for long. He's woken up by the soft creak of the chamber door unlocking and opening. Castle doors are heavy, so Patrick is aware of the thud as it shuts. He keeps his eyes closed for a few seconds, waiting for Lena to come in and wake him up so he can help her do whatever it is she got up for, but he doesn't hear her calling for him. Sighing, Patrick slides out of bed and exits the room, peering down the dark hall.

"Lena?" he calls in a hushed voice.

He presses his hand on the jamb of the door, expecting her to come back to him. Once he realizes she isn't, he starts to wonder if she's lost and starts to walk down the hall.

Patrick has a hard time finding his way due to the lack of light, but he manages. The moon illuminates the hall through the windows just enough that he can see where he's going. He leaves the hall of bedrooms and finds himself in the entry. He stands there for a moment, looking around.

Where is she? Patrick wonders.

He scratches under his chin, yawning, debating whether or not he should continue looking for her or just go back to bed. It's only until he hears the slide of metal, the sound of a door being unlatched, does he decide he should go on.

He follows the sounds, just catching the glimpse of her nightgown, a flash of white in the otherwise dark surroundings. Is she headed outside?

"Where are you going?" Patrick whispers as she shuts the door behind her and exits the main building.

Quietly, Patrick follows her outside after a few seconds. Somehow, he knows she didn't plan to be followed. So, he stays back behind her, far enough that she won't hear him, but close enough that he can still see her in front of him.

How does she know where she's going? Patrick thinks to himself, watching her struggle to lift herself over the gate, ripping the skirt of her gown in the process.

The two guards on duty are slouched over on the brick pillars beside the gate, either sleeping or passed out drunk. Careful not to wake them, Patrick follows Lena over the gate, nearly cutting his bare foot on the metal spires as he does so.

Lena vanishes between the trees just as Patrick hits the ground. He speeds up in order not to lose her, mind going haywire as he tries to come up for a logical reason she's out by herself, especially at this time of night.

Patrick recalls Lena telling him that she can make out lights and shadows even in her blindness and he wonders if she's following wisps the way he had once. He searches frantically for the glowing blue lights, but doesn't find them.

Patrick breaks out into a run, praying that she can't hear his footsteps. He catches up to her. She's walking almost as if in a trance. Is she sleeping? Is that possible?

She winds through the trees, following a path. Patrick struggles to follow her, thinking it's almost as if she knows she's being followed. She goes in a circle around a tree, then another, then Patrick realizes they've been walking in circles. He glances behind him and then back. Lena's gone.

Heart racing, Patrick begins to sprint through the woods. Did she take a left or a right? He tries to retrace his steps in hope of finding his way back to Maesity. He should probably get someone's help. That sounds like a good enough plan, only if he were able to gather his bearings. He has no clue which way Maesity is or how far he's run.

With half a mind to sit down on the floor and start bawling, Patrick takes a deep breath and starts walking forward once again.

I have to end up somewhere, he figures.

By the time Patrick hears a sound that isn't a cricket's chirp or the coo of an owl, his feet are sore and cut up. He pauses in his walk, listening, waiting for the voice to speak again.

"Can you really do something about this?"

It's Lena.

"Of course I can. Were you told nothing would be able to fix this? Nothing is permanent."

The second voice is silky smooth, a tone and accent that Patrick has never heard on anyone before. He walks slowly toward the voices, almost walking into the circle of trees where they're at before he realizes with a jolt that Lena's company will be able to see him even though she won't.

A woman is sitting on a fallen tree with Lena kneeling before her. Faery rings of tiny brown mushrooms circle the woman's feet, the edges of the log, and the bases of the trees. Lena's head is inclined toward where the woman sits, indicating that she's listening. Patrick presses against the tree nearest to him looking over his shoulder. The trees in this area look gnarled unlike the ones that Patrick remembers seeing on his journey through the Pink. He feels... like he's about to throw up.

The woman's wearing a long, white dress that looks as if it's made of ice. It seems to be barely hanging onto her shoulders, like it might slip off at any second. Her collar bones jut out even in her perfect posture. Despite this, she doesn't look skinny. She's curvy, but slender. What people might say they like in a woman. All her features are startlingly perfect, the features that humans tend to think are most choicely. Somehow, they don't all fit together and still retain their beauty. She looks as if she's chosen these parts to make herself more appealing and Patrick can't help but think she looks off. No one truly looks like that.

Lena looks like a child next to her.

"Nothing is free," the woman continues.

Lena nods her head. "I know."

"Do you? Do you know what the price for life is, little girl?"

"Death," Lena whispers.

A smile flicks across the woman's perfect lips. "I need a sacrifice."

Lena clasps her hands together on her lap. "I can get you a cow."

"I'm going to need something more than that, dear," the woman laughs. "A cow won't work. I need something of equal value."

"Yes, anything."

Thoughtful, the woman places a finger to her mouth. "Give me the boy who followed you here."

Patrick startles, chest going tight. It's then he realizes he can't move. Lena's head snaps up and she looks around, frantically almost, as if by some miracle she might catch sight of him.

"What?" she says, horrified. "He hasn't done anything."

"I said to come alone. You did say anything, didn't you? Or did you not mean it?"

Lena's mouth opens and closes like a fish as she struggles to find the words to muster up a reply.

"Anything but him. Anyone but him."

The woman's lips stretch in a closed-mouth smile. "I'll make you a deal, however... it will cost you more."

"Anyone you want except Patrick," Lena manages to get out, sounding desperate.

Patrick finds his voice. "Lena," he scolds. Ivo is at his side, hissing as he curls around Patrick's feet in a protective stance.

The woman looks over to his hiding spot and snaps her fingers. "The women are making a deal, here. I'm afraid you don't have any say in this." She smiles unapologetically.

It feels as if his tongue has been cut out. He scratches at his mouth, wanting to make sure it's still there, but his lips won't part no matter how hard he tries to get them to. He screams, but it just comes out muffled like he's been gagged. His mouth feels swollen and he's choking. He can feel Ivo clawing at his insides, trapped, unable to escape.

"Three lives," the woman offers.

Lena hesitates.

"Three, and you give me my life back?"

The woman nods and holds out her hand until her fingertips brush lightly against Lena's. "Three lives, Lena. When you hear the name whispered in your ear, kill them before the next full moon or the deal is off. If you succeed, I'll lift your curse."

"But not Patrick."

"Not him," the woman agrees. "I always keep my promises. Do you accept?"

Lena presses her lips together. Patrick tries to scream at her to deny it, tries to tell her to say no, but all that comes out is unintelligible yelling.

"Deal."

No, Patrick is howling.

Lena's fingers close around the woman's and she starts screaming, clutching at her wrist. She's trying to pull her hand away from the woman's, but the grip on her only tightens. After a few excruciating seconds, the woman lets go and Lena gasps and presses her fingers to her wrist. Patrick spots three reddened lines encircling her wrist, raised like burns.

"So you don't forget," the woman says.

She pats Lena on the head and finally turns her attention to Patrick. She snaps her fingers and Patrick collapses to the floor, clutching his throat. She waves her hand, disappearing into the shadows in the trees. Ivo detaches himself from Patrick's soul and vanishes.

Patrick lays down in the dirt, recuperating and listening to the sound of Lena sobbing as she clutches at her wrist, trying to find some relief for the pain in her arm. He doesn't know how long he lays there on the floor as he catches his breath. He curls his fingers around his tongue, feeling it to make sure that witch didn't take it away.

Only once both of them have calmed down does Patrick speak.

"You idiot."

"What? Lena croaks.

"You bloody idiot!" Patrick exclaims. "Do you know what you've done?"

Lena's head turns toward him. "I've found a way out of this."

"You- you-" Patrick stutters. "You can't kill anyone!"

"I can, if that's the only thing that is going to reverse the bloody curse."

"You can't-" Patrick's at a loss. "What were you thinking?"

"She asked me to kill people. It could be worse."

"Do you even know who she is?" Patrick shrieks, voice cracking.

"The only one who can really do anything about this," Lena answers.

Patrick doesn't want to think about that, so he pretends that he can't hear her.

"We need to get back," he says weakly.

"Fine," Lena agrees.

Exhausted, Patrick pushes himself off of the ground. His throat still feels tight and the queasy feeling in his stomach still hasn't gone away. He suspects it won't go away for quite some time.

Patrick helps Lena up, ignoring how furious he is with her. He can yell at her some more later once they aren't stuck who-knows-where in the woods in the middle of the night. He hooks his arm around hers. He's livid, but he can't fight off the feeling of wanting to keep her close.

"You don't know the way back, do you?" Patrick asks.

Lena has the decency to look sheepish. "I don't."

Just then, Patrick feels something brush against his feet. A soft cooing noise fills the air, like a release of breath. Wisps.

"What's that?" Lena whispers pointing, able to make out the blue light the wisps give off.

"Will o' the wisps," Patrick replies.

He's not happy to see them. Memories of the last time they wanted to take him somewhere fill his head, but he pushes those away. 'Bury it,' his father would tell him.

"She must have sent them," Lena says.

Patrick instantly doesn't want to follow them. Wisps are already bad enough. Wisps sent by her are even worse, but they're the only way back.

Patrick forces himself to take a step. The wisp coos and reappears in another section of the woods. They follow them back to Maesity's gate, where the guards are suspiciously awake. The moment they approach the gate, the wisps vanish.

The guards eye the two with caution. "What are you doing, wandering around?"

Patrick scrambles to think of an excuse. He grips at Lena's arm.

"We couldn't sleep, so we went on a walk." Close enough.

"Oh," one of the guards says. "You're the ones that woke us up earlier."

Patrick chews the inside of his cheek. "That's us."

"Aye, sorry for the trouble."

They unlock the gate with the key and pull the bars aside so they can enter.

"Don't tell the lord or lady we fell asleep, would ya?"

"As long as you don't tell anyone we went out," Lena answers.

The guards salute them and Patrick gives them a nod in return. They walk the way to Patrick's room, surprisingly in one piece.

Patrick lays down on his bed and Lena follows suit. Even in the dark, he can see the crease in her brow. She rolls onto her side and faces him.

"Patrick?"

"Aye?"

"Promise me you won't go telling anyone about this."

"Lena-"

"This was my deal, it was my decision, and it doesn't need to get out."

Patrick doesn't say anything.

"Promise me."

He sighs. "Lena, I-"

"Promise me," she pleads.

Patrick stays quiet for a moment before answering. "I promise. I promise I won't tell anyone about your... deal."

"Thank you," Lena says, relief evident in her voice.

She rests her head on his shoulder and he pulls her closer in response, hooking his arm around her waist. He kisses her forehead. Patrick can't pinpoint the last time they laid like this. Was it the night their parents announced they were going to get married that spring? Yes, it might have been. Patrick remembers being out in the woods, by the lake.

Patrick stares up at the ceiling. "How are you going to do this? You're blind. How are you going to... going to kill people?"

Lena nestles her cheek into Patrick's neck. "You're going to help me, aren't you?"

Patrick doesn't answer and Lena doesn't ask any further questions. Neither of them sleep the rest of the night, though. They lay there together, feeling the remnants of the magic swirl in their veins. They stay in Lena's and leave Patrick's.

Ivo stays curled up by the door, watching. Whenever Lena so much as twitches, he hisses quietly.

You're afraid, aren't you? Patrick asks the familiar.

Ivo blinks up at him through milky eyes. He cocks his head to the side and kneads at the tasseled rug. The rest of the night is silent.