He saluted. “You have my word little Badger.”

As fast we were united, we were separated again, running in opposite directions towards the same goal. The children Of-the-Dark showed us where to go before joining Willow in the distraction.

We didn't run into a single soul on the way to the throne room, where a humble wooden chair was raised on a three-step dais, and colorful cushions covered the surrounding floor. Behind the chair was a wall of polished wood, carved with ten illuminated symbols representing the Divine Pantheon. Obsidian’s name was carved under an image of a tightening spiral.

“I'm going to rest my power for a while,” I said. There had been no soul in the Unseen, but when we reappeared, the room wasn’t empty. A man was slumped on the throne, a ghostwood crown on his head.

“King Obsidian!” Sharp tightened the grip on her blades. “I think… he’s dead after all.”

“No, unfortunately not,” croaked the old body. He was alive, and like his son Marrow, his soul was not present here. “Who are you kids?” he said in a rusty, ancient voice. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Before we could respond, Marrow himself hurried through the door, holding an unconscious Ivory in his arms, Olivine and Tungsten right behind him.

The king turned his head, eyes catching the light. Their fogginess indicated both a lack and abundance of sight. His ears sagged with the weight of his rings. “You?” he croaked, voice tinged with sadness. “I thought you ran out and swore to never return?”

“Not quite. We’re sorry to have left you in this state, father.” He softened when he noticed us. “Where's your friend?”

“He'll be here soon,” Sharp answered. “Glad you’re alright.”

Ivory moved, blinked rapidly, and sprang from her husband’s arms. “We're here already?” She smiled at the sight of Obsidian, still sitting dumbfounded on his throne. “Good to see you again, your highness. Do you mind telling us where we can find Melodia and Molten?”

“Is that why you’re here?” He only moved his mouth when he spoke, like the rest of his body was made of stone. “I don’t know where those wretched sisters are, but if you’re looking for a fight, I’m sure you’ll find it.”

“You aren’t working together?” inquired Olivine.

“Don’t make me laugh. The only reason I’m still in power is because Puppeteer is keeping me alive.” His face cringed. It was clear he was unable to move on his own, stuck in a body that longed for death. “Ivory, I apologize most humbly for your exile. She has put Pyrite, me, and many others into a consistent state of hypnotic suggestion.”

His pleading, galaxy eyes noticed me for the first time. “These kids should move outside. Pyrite is in the anteroom of the dining hall with some guests he sneaked in under Melodia’s nose. They’ll all be in danger if she performs the coronation ritual against tradition.”

“What will happen then?” I ventured, shifting uncomfortably in this new ATMOSPHERE.

Marrow’s face twisted in anger. The silver skull dangling from his earlobe swung back and forth like a metronome. “The God Tree will reject anyone who isn’t in the Pantheon. It happened centuries ago, and the behemoth released an indiscriminate, hateful energy. Melodia will be marked, and bystanders could be injured or killed.”

Killed! I’d pushed down the fear for Willow’s sake, but now my blood was pumping double time.

Ivory put one hand over her heart, and the other on the king’s sleeve. “We can’t let that happen. Do you consent to relinquish the throne to me?”

The dying man’s eyes did not glow, but I sensed an echo of immense power. “What about this boy?” A knobbly finger extended to me, making me flinch. “That’s right, I know who you are, little Badger. I know the ways fate has brought you here today. Your claim is equal to Ivory.”

I gripped the gossamer rope. “With all due respect, your majesty, I don’t want the throne. Like, really don't want it.”

Marrow put a hand on my shoulder. “Blood does not entitle one to power, Obsidian. That way of thinking is why you’re in this situation in the first place. Do you really think our family will no longer be welcome in this palace? On this council? If Badger comes for the throne when he’s older, so be it, but right now the Dark needs a king who can't be defeated by corrupted powers. It must be Ivory.”

The commotion grew louder.

“Someone is headed right for this room,” said Sharp, a hand on her ear. “Wait a minute…”

Willow appeared in the threshold, alone, looking more disheveled than he did five minutes ago. “Hey everybody! Oh, Ivory, thank the Reaper! I uh, ran into some trouble. Melodia started singing… and all the other kids started following her. I bet they’ll head this way any moment.”

Ivory stood up straight. “Topaz Clan, head them off. Willow as well, since you’re clearly immune.”

She held the map-engraved ring in front of my face. “You need to go to the room marked in the northeast section. Find Pyrite but stay hidden. Take Teal if you have the energy.”

My breath was labored. “I’ll have to go by myself. But what am I supposed to do?”

A faint, haunting melody floated from further down the hall. Ivory erupted with orange light, dulling the sound. “She's coming this way… and she’s angry. Tell Pyrite what's happening, move his guests somewhere safe. I don’t know the state of his mind, but if you can, convince him to release Obsidian and return to us.”

She glided towards the old dying king and put a gentle hand on his arm. “What do you say, highness? What is your decision?”

Obsidian could resist her power, but the energy she emitted was different than before. The orange haze shed clarity on the situation and revealed an obvious truth. Before us was a tormented old man, disrespected, used as a tool, and a younger woman whose intentions were nothing but pure.

Obsidian bowed. “It’s yours.”

Not a second to waste. I disappeared, nervous to leave my friends behind but happy to move further from the hypnotic music. I was still doing what I set out to do in the first place: save Pyrite.

The dining hall contained a long wooden table, smooth on the surface but carved on the side with intricate landscapes. It was empty, but still littered with dirty plates and mugs. The anteroom connected the hall to the outside of the tree, a secret entrance for certain guests.

Whoarethey? I wondered. Who came to visit at a time like this?

The anteroom door opened just before I reached it. A soul emerged, an illuminated patchwork of varying shades of blue, green, and red. Smaller white lights interlocking these patches made it look like crookedly stitched fabric. Pyrite.

Another light was beside him, a viscous orange shade that struck me as familiar, but I couldn't remember why. “Stop,” it said, with the voice of an older woman. “Someone else is here.”

I could feel eyes looking directly at me, so I reappeared.

Pyrite leapt with fright, but then his haggard grimace broke into an uncharacteristic smile. “It's you! You're all right!”

His next action was even more unexpected: he pulled me into a tight hug. I returned it, then pushed away to get a better look at his companion. “Are you… That's right, the woman from Benzay. Ore.”

Her skin was light mottled gray. Despite the blackness of her elbow-length hair and the absence of earrings, I could tell she was even older than Obsidian.

Pyrite’s eyes glowed green and volatile. “Ore is the Dark's live-in fortune teller, and a constant pain in my neck.”

Questions clouded me, but the interrogation had to wait. The music was near. “We came here to save you,” I blurted. “Obsidian surrendered the throne to Ivory, and right now they're in the center of the tree trying to protect all those kidnapped kids from Melodia. I think⁠—"

The sound of her name made his body shutter. Something shifted, and his voice turned dull and monotonous. “Don't be a fool. We need them to stop Wyvern.”

I took a step back. “You look strange. What’s happening?”

My words washed over him. “I have to go to her,” he growled, all his previous joy forgotten. Rays of light shined from his eyes and wavered in uncanny ways. He pushed towards the throne room.

“No!” I exclaimed. “You need to stay away!”

He moved without hearing, and when I tried to follow behind, Ore's arm stopped me. “Pointless. He’s so deep under her influence, his personality is splintering. Follow me for a moment before going after him.”

“Why should I?” I pulled away. “Did you know who I was when we were in Benzay? Were you trying to control what I did?”

Her voice creaked like uneven floorboards. “If you recall, I only told you how to find what you were already looking for.”