You shake off Red Maggie's sudden change in personality, choosing to focus instead on the prospect of a shower and a nights sleep in what has turned out to be a pretty comfy bed. You shed your clothes and debate trying to wash them in the sink, but ultimately decide just to drape them around the bathroom and hope a good steaming helps. You hesitate, then take your necklace off as well and hang it from the door knob. The products in the shower are unlabeled, but feel luxurious and smell like mint and rosemary. You reluctantly put your clothes back on, sit on the bed, and try to summon the will to go downstairs for dinner but fail, falling asleep on top of the comforter.

You wake up shivering a little while later. You can't tell what time it is, but it feels late. You wonder if Maggie followed through with bringing dinner up and are a little surprised to see that she did leave you a tray, on the floor in the hallway. Some kind of grain and vegetables, long gone cold. You take a bite anyway and stroll back to the window while you chew.

The moon is huge, shining like a spotlight. You can see a woman walking from the side of the building to the back; the moon lights her hair on fire and you know it must be Maggie. She pulls open two doors in the ground you hadn't noticed before and descends into what is probably a cellar. Everything is still for a few minutes.

Then your equilibrium lurches like you stood up too fast. You almost drop your bowl but manage to place it on the windowsill and lean your shoulder against the wall. The odd seasick feeling passes but your vision still swims a bit- the sharp shadows cut by the moon are... twisting. Spiraling toward the cellar doors as if down a drain. Your head starts to hurt. You rest it against the cool window and close your eyes. After a few minutes an odd smell soaks into the room. Rust and honey. You almost gag on it. You wonder if you're having some kind of stroke and realize there's nothing you can do about it if you are. You stagger back to the bed, pull the covers up over your head, and clamp your eyes closed.

You wake with a gasp, sun streaming through your window. A dream, a dream, obviously. Despite how active your imagine was during the night, you feel amazing. You get up and stretch, then reach for your bowl, still on the windowsill. It occurs to you that there's something odd about the room, some detail out of place, but you shake it off.

You head down the stairs, looking to say goodbye to Maggie, but she's not at the desk. You think of leaving her a thank-you note but the only thing you could write on is one of the books, and anyway you don't have a pen. You step out of the Red Berry Inn and on to Quicksilver's main street. Time to figure out what to do next.