Here’s the next chapter in the ongoing serial story. You can find part one here and the previous part here. I just realized this weekend while watching The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe that I’ve written a portal fantasy with a heroine named Lucy. It really wasn’t meant as an homage to the Narnia books. I just happen to like the name “Lucy.” It seems like a good fit for a girl-next-door type from a small town, and I had a great aunt named Lucy. I also named Katie’s niece in the Enchanted, Inc. books Lucy.

Chapter Seven

            The animals scattered, and Dawn turned to see a big, gray wolf running its tongue across its fangs.

“Oh!” Dawn cried out, backing up. Next to her, Jeremy picked up a tree branch and brandished it like a sword.

The wolf just leered at Dawn. “Now, where did you come from, little girl?” he asked.

“She came from far, far away,” Spink chirped, flying loops in the air over the wolf. The wolf reared on his hind legs and swatted the bird with one paw. Without thinking, Dawn dove forward and picked up the bird before the wolf could pounce on it.

“Bad wolf!” she shouted.

“Yes, I am,” he replied in a voice that was almost a purr. “I see my reputation precedes me.” He stalked around Dawn, but never came close to her. In her palm, Spink trembled. Jeremy stood by with his tree branch.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Dawn scolded the wolf.

“You are my size,” he replied.

“But you aren’t going after me. You’re going after this little bird, you big meanie.”

The wolf stopped pacing and stared at her. “You’re right. Why is that?” Dawn held her breath, realizing she’d practically invited him to attack her. He cocked his head to one side and asked, “Who are you? What are you, that I can’t bring myself to bite you?” His tail began wagging, and he whirled in horror. “No! What sorcery is this?” He turned and ran away, back into the depths of the forest.

“Not by the hair of my chinny chin-chin,” Jeremy muttered.

“What?” Dawn asked.

“I believe that may have been the Big, Bad Wolf. But is he the one who goes after girls in red capes or the one who demolishes pigs’ houses?”

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re fairy tales. Didn’t your aunts ever read to you or tell you stories about Little Red Riding Hood or the Three Little Pigs?”

“No, I don’t think so. But what does that have to do with this?”

“Well, we’re in a place where animals talk, which is something that happens in stories. And that wolf was right out of a story. I’m just saying, it’s something to think about.”

“Don’t be silly, Jeremy.” She turned her attention to the quivering bird in her palm. “Are you all right, Spink?”

“The wolf is gone?”

“Yes, I believe he’s gone. Can you lead us to the river?”

He took flight again. “This way!”

“And remember, we don’t have wings,” Jeremy reminded him as they went after him.

They soon learned that following a bird was a real challenge. It had no concept of walking and easily flew over obstacles that stopped or slowed the humans. Almost immediately, it crossed a deep gulley that probably held a stream during rainy times. Dawn and Jeremy had to carefully pick their way down the steep slope and crawl up the opposite slope. By the time they reached the top, the bird was nowhere to be seen. “Good riddance,” Jeremy muttered, but Dawn worried about losing their guide.

They came to a road after about a half hour of walking, and it wasn’t long before a walled town came into view. The closer they came to the town, the more crowded the road became. No one was guarding the gate into the town, which was good, since Dawn didn’t have a passport, and she didn’t think it would do much good here. “Well, we’re here,” Jeremy said when they entered the town. “Now what?”

“We find out the situation, of course.” They followed the crowd from the road to the market square. It looked a lot like the farmers’ market back home, except with more live animals. “The market should be a good place to ask questions,” Dawn said. “People will be here from all around.”

“What question do you intend to ask? I mean, are you just going to walk up to someone and ask where the castle is?”

“Why not? We are from far away, after all. That seems like something strangers might ask.” Before Jeremy could argue, Dawn walked up to the nearest stall, where a bored-looking young man sat staring into space. “Excuse me,” she said, “but we’re strangers here, and I was wondering if you could help me.” She gave him her best smile, and he immediately perked up.

“How might I be of service?” he asked.

“Do you know where we might find the castle?”

“There’s no castle near this town, not unless you count the enchantresses’ abbey.”

“But isn’t there a castle on the river?”

“You mean the castle where the king and queen were? That’s several days downriver. I suppose you came for the coronation.”

Dawn was about to ask about the coronation when Jeremy stepped in and said, “Of course. We wouldn’t want to miss it. We came from very far away to see it. Thank you for your help.” He took Dawn’s arm and steered her away.

“I was going to ask him more questions,” she protested. “He was very helpful.”

“Yeah, I know he was, but us coming here for the coronation is a perfect cover story, and we don’t want to blow our chance to say we’ve come for the coronation by asking what coronation they’re talking about. Now, don’t you think it’s an interesting coincidence that there happens to be a coronation going on at the castle some bird was ordered to bring you to, right at the time someone kidnaps Lucy?”

“But what connection could there be?”

“Maybe we should ask your aunts.” Without waiting for her to reply, he took her arm and led her out of the market, back toward the town gate.

She didn’t have a logical answer, but the moment they started moving away, she felt that tug again, the one that had drawn her through the portal. Now it pulled her in another direction, away from where they were walking. “No!” she said, a little more loudly and forcefully than she intended. “This feels wrong.” Pulling her arm out of Jeremy’s grasp, she turned and let herself walk in the direction of the tug.

He came after her. “What’s going on with you?”

She wasn’t sure she could explain, not in words. “I feel like we need to go this way.”

“What makes you think so?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just feel it. Maybe I’m connected to my necklace that Lucy’s wearing, and I’m drawn to that.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve got a magical link? Really?”

She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him. “We got here by walking through a portal in my garden shed, and the animals talk here. Is my being able to feel my necklace any weirder than that?”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. So, where does your magical Spidey sense tell you to go?”

“I’m leading you there. Now, come on.”

She chose one of the side streets leading away from the market square in the opposite direction from the gate. Soon the smell of the area changed, taking on a damp, mildewed scent. They were approaching water: the river. Sure enough, the street led to the riverside wharf, where rows of boats were tied up.

“There you are!” a familiar voice said. Spink sat on a railing. “I knew you’d find the river.”

Jeremy groaned under his breath, but Dawn couldn’t help smiling. “It’s good to see you, Spink. But if you want us to follow you, you need to remember to wait for us.”

“The castle’s on the river,” the bird said.

“Yes, we know,” Dawn replied. “We understand it’s a few days downriver. So I guess we need to find a boat going downriver.”

“How?” Jeremy asked. “We don’t have money to buy passage. Somehow, I doubt they take dollars, and I don’t think even American Express has a currency exchange here.”

“We earn the money,” she said simply, leading him back to the market square.

“And how do you intend to do that?”

“I’m going to sing. I don’t suppose you have a hat or some other kind of container to collect money.”

He pulled his Scout cap out of his backpack and put it on the ground in front of her, and she tried to think of something to sing. She settled on one of her favorite solos from The Phantom of the Opera. It was nice and showy, with plenty of high notes and a bit of ornamentation at the end. Back home, it was considered a clichéd audition song, but here, no one would have ever heard it. She hoped they’d be impressed.

While she sang, she tried to watch the reaction of the people in the marketplace without losing her concentration. Some of the shoppers stopped to turn and listen. Others only paused before going back to what they’d been doing. At the end of the first song, a couple of people tossed coins into Jeremy’s hat. He picked up the hat and waded into the crowd. “Surely that was worth a little something,” he said. “Have you ever heard anyone sing like that?”

She launched into another song, and Spink landed on her shoulder and joined her, singing a descant in counterpoint to her melody. That brought more people over to listen and put more coins into Jeremy’s hat. After a couple more songs, she took a break to sip some of the bottled water Jeremy had brought.

“I think we’re doing pretty well,” he said, “though I don’t know what these coins are worth. For all I know, we’ve got enough for a cup of coffee—and the non-Starbucks kind, at that. But it does seem to be working.”

That gave her more energy to sing even better. She’d sung solos in the school choir and had played roles in musicals that gave her solo numbers, but she’d never had a solo performance—though she supposed it wasn’t a true solo with Spink there, unless he would be considered an accompanist. Whether or not she earned enough money for passage downriver to the capital, she was having the time of her life. The crowds around her grew, and they were an appreciative audience, aside from one sour-faced young woman who stood near the back.

“Ah, she’s nothing special,” the woman called out in the middle of a song. “Just another little songbird, and I’m not talking about the one with wings.” A few others in the audience laughed, but the rest turned to glare while those nearest the woman shushed her. Dawn forced herself to ignore the distraction and keep singing.

She got so caught up in her music and in the response from the people closest to her that she lost track of the rest of the marketplace until Jeremy tapped her on the shoulder between songs.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” he whispered, “but look over there.”

She looked beyond the audience gathered around her and saw that a group of women in black dresses with white collars had entered the marketplace. The one in front made eye contact with Dawn and headed right for her. Her aunts had found her!

***

            Both Sebastian and their hostess looked at Lucy like she was insane for saying that she and Sebastian shouldn’t be the ones to travel. “But, your highness, you have to be the one to arrive at the rendezvous,” Sebastian said.

“I know that,” she said, trying not to snap. “But we don’t need to be the ones they see along the way.” He still looked blank. Then it occurred to her that he’d probably never gone on the run before, and he’d certainly never seen a movie about going on the run, so he probably had no idea that people who went on the run had to change their appearance to get past their pursuers. But if he hadn’t heard of that idea, then their enemies hadn’t, either, and that might give her an advantage. “They’re looking specifically for us, right? I mean, since you went missing at the same time I escaped, I’m pretty sure they’ve figured out that you’re the guy who let me go, and those soldiers were looking for a guy and a girl.”

“Yes, I’m sure they know to look for me.”

“Then look at us! You’re wearing livery, for crying out loud. You might as well be wearing your name on your back in giant letters. And I’m pretty sure there’s no one around here dressed like I am. You could spot us a mile away. But there are only a few people who’ve actually seen my face. I don’t know how well-known you are, but I bet that if I changed clothes and did something different with my hair, I could walk right past almost anyone searching for me without them knowing.” That was another benefit to this world being so backward: There weren’t any photos of her to distribute and no television or computer networks for distributing them. The searchers would have to go by vague descriptions, and the general public would know nothing at all. Based on what she’d seen so far, Lucy doubted most of the people would join in the search for the escaped princess.

Apparently, Sebastian caught on, for he immediately unfastened his belt and pulled his surcoat off over his head. “Do you still recognize me, your highness?” he asked with a smile.

“I might be able to pick you out of a lineup. But then, I know you pretty well.” She turned to their hostess. “I don’t suppose you have any old clothes you could lend us. Well, give us, since I doubt we’d be able to get them back to you, but if I live through this, I promise to pay you back.” She might not be able to live up to that promise, since she wasn’t the real princess, but she knew Dawn would be willing to carry it out.

“But of course, your highness. I still have some of my daughter’s old clothes, from when she was a girl, and I believe I have an old tunic of my husband’s that would fit you, sir. It is my humble duty as your loyal subject to give you anything you ask.” With several bows, she backed away to a chest at the side of the room. Lucy was really uncomfortable with all this groveling. She imagined this must be what might happen if Prince William dropped in on a random home in England, only without the paparazzi. And if the prince asked to borrow a pair of jeans.

Lucy found herself ridiculously excited as the woman brought out a carefully folded bundle of clothes. As dire as her circumstances were, costumes were sure to make everything better. This would be her chance to wear authentic medieval clothing. The woman handed Sebastian a roughly woven tunic and Lucy a larger bundle of clothes. He looked at Lucy, ducked his head, and said, “I will change outside.”

As soon as he was gone, she eagerly unfolded the bundle. The outfit was peasant garb—a long, loose light dress with tight sleeves and a heavier overdress that went on top of it. It was hard to judge the time period from the design—probably no later than Fourteenth Century, though with peasant clothing, it was hard to tell. And there was no guarantee that their time periods matched Lucy’s world. The design looked more like something from a storybook than like authentic period attire.

Come to think of it, a lot about this place—and not just the talking animals and the evil witch—was very storybook. For one thing, everyone spoke English, and in that vague British-like accent they tended to use for all Europeans in movies. Or else being Narniaed had done something to Lucy’s brain so she understood them if they weren’t speaking English. Things didn’t smell nearly as bad as she’d have thought they would in a real medieval setting, and Sebastian was not only tall, but he also had white, healthy teeth, which didn’t fit with what they’d taught in history class about that time period. Was she really in another world that was the source for the fairy tales she knew, or had she literally been carried into a storybook? It might not be such a bad thing if she had. In stories, good usually beat evil, and the heroine lived happily ever after. The real world wasn’t always so kind.

Lucy was normally a stickler for accuracy in costuming, and she complained enough about anachronisms in movies and television shows to make Jeremy groan, but after touching the dress, she decided it wouldn’t matter if she kept on her underwear. The fabric was awfully rough against her skin, and it wasn’t as though anyone would be seeing her bra and panties to notice anything unusual. Besides, the dress fit better with the help of a little padding in the chest area. She told herself it was important that people see the princess as beautiful, but if she was perfectly honest, she’d have to admit that she was more concerned with what Sebastian thought about her.

The bundle didn’t include any shoes, but the dress was a little long on her and covered her feet, and she didn’t think her ballet flats were too out of place, aside from being pink, which really clashed with the dark green dress. She stuffed her old clothes into her backpack. It wasn’t exactly period, being made of rip-proof nylon and covered with zippers, but at least it was a plain dark blue instead of something like Hello Kitty.

The witch and her people had only seen Lucy with her hair up in a ponytail, so she pulled off the ponytail holder and ran her fingers through her hair to loosen it so it fell around her face. It was hopelessly frizzed, but this was a world without conditioner and hair gel, so she suspected almost everyone with curly hair would look like that.

“I would never recognize you, your highness,” the woman said.

“Then this may work.” Lucy went outside to find Sebastian wearing a tunic that was a bit too big for him across the shoulders, which had the effect of making him look skinnier than he was, like a boy wearing his father’s clothes. This was the first chance she’d had to get a good look at him in decent lighting. It was hard to guess his exact age, since his life was probably pretty different from what she was used to, but he seemed younger than he had the night before. He had only the slightest hint of patchy fuzz growing on his jaw, and it would probably take him a few more days without shaving to develop a respectable five-o’clock shadow. The lines and planes of the face he’d grow into when he was older had been what showed in the firelight the night before, but in daylight there was still a bit of youthful softness blurring his features. A sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheekbones made him look even younger. She guessed he wasn’t actually all that much older than she was, definitely still a teenager.

He was still holding his surcoat, which she assumed bore the crest of the lord he was squire to. With a glance down at it, he abruptly shoved it into their hostess’s hands. “You can take this as payment for the clothing and the help. It’s good fabric you may be able to use in some way.”

“Thank you, my lord. It is indeed finer than any cloth I own.”

The look of devastation on his face as he let the surcoat go was heartbreaking. Going from being a squire in the service of a nobleman to being a fugitive who had to pretend to be a peasant couldn’t be easy for him. Lucy put a hand lightly on his arm. “Thank you for that,” she said softly. “I know what you must be giving up to help me like this, but I’m sure you’ll be a big hero when you show up with me.” When he looked at her, the expression in his eyes made her legs quiver. No boy had ever looked at her that way, like she hung the moon and stars. She was the one to break the gaze when she couldn’t bear the intensity anymore. When she glanced down, she noticed that he’d put his sword belt around his waist over the tunic.

She shook her head. “That won’t do. Would a peasant boy carry a sword like that?”

He put his hand on the sword hilt and squared his shoulders. “I will not go unarmed.”

“I’m not asking you to, believe me. We just need to disguise the sword until we’re free and clear. What about those sacks up in the loft? Maybe if we wrapped some around the sword and strapped it to your back, it would look like you’re carrying a bundle.”

Wrapping the sword in burlap and twine made it a little less obvious. No one who was looking for a sword would be able to miss it, but with any luck, no one would look for a hidden sword on a lanky peasant boy.

Once she had Sebastian disguised to her satisfaction, she spread her arms and asked, “Now, how do I look?”

“You should hide your necklace. That identifies you.”

She reached up to touch her neck, only then remembering that it was the biggest clue to who they thought she was. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. Here she was, supposedly the master of disguise, and she’d forgotten that major detail. Unwilling to risk putting it in her backpack, she turned her back to Sebastian, unclasped the necklace, reclasped it around her bra strap and tucked the pendant into one of the bra cups. “Good catch,” she said. She then turned to Leila and Larkin. “What do you two think?” she asked the dogs.

“Your disguises would not fool us, as your scents remain the same,” Leila said, “but I do not think humans are as discerning.”

“Great! Now, we need a way to get out of the woods. Even in disguise, I’m pretty sure that the two of us will stand out when we’re in the sticks.”

She looked around the outside of the hut and spotted a wagon hitched to a pair of workhorses. “Were you on your way somewhere?” she asked their hostess.

With a bow and a curtsy, the woman said, “I was just about to go to the village with a load of wood when you arrived, your highness.”

“Perfect! We’ll ride with you. We can hide under some of the wood. In the village, we can get out and blend into the crowd.”

“It would be my honor to take you, your highness. I need a moment or two to prepare. Please excuse me.”

When she went inside, Sebastian said, “Where did you learn to plot like this, your highness? Have you had to work so hard to remain hidden in that other world?”

“What? Oh, no. I guess you could say I’ve seen other people have to do stuff like this.” She didn’t want to tell him that it had been in movies, which were fiction, so the ruse worked because the plot needed it to work. But, as she kept trying to reassure herself, nobody in this world had seen all those movies, so maybe this would be an entirely new concept. And if it was a storybook world, fictional ideas should work, even if they were from a different era.

While Sebastian and the woman rearranged the bundles of wood to create hiding places, Lucy turned to the dogs. “I guess we need to figure out what to do with you two.”

“We can make our own way to the village,” Larkin said. “There, we can watch you and track you without drawing attention. When you are safely away, we will rejoin you to lead you to the rendezvous.”

“Okay, then, see you on the other side.”

Lucy and Sebastian curled up in the hollowed spaces on the wagon, the woman placed a layer of wood on top of them, and soon they were off. The way was rough, and Lucy felt every bump. She was sure she’d be black and blue before they reached the village. The ride was smoother when they reached a real road, but that was only in relative terms. “Smooth” wasn’t an adjective she’d normally use to describe that road.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d traveled when a voice called out, “Halt!” and the wagon came to a stop. Lucy held her breath, wondering if these guards would be like their movie counterparts and not bother to search the wagon.

Continued in chapter eight.

Here’s part six of the ongoing serial story. In case you missed it, you can find the beginning here and the previous part here. If you’re enjoying it, please share it with others.

Chapter Six

            As soon as Dawn came through the portal, she turned around to see if Miriam had followed her. All she saw was an ivy-covered wall. It was as though the portal had never existed. Next to Dawn, Jeremy must have noticed the same thing. He dropped his defensive posture to whirl and stick his arm where the portal had been, like he thought he might catch it before it vanished completely, but he was left just waving his arm in the air. “Okay, how do we get back?” he asked.

“We don’t need to get back yet. We haven’t found what we’re looking for,” she said with a shrug.

“You mean we came here without being sure we had a round-trip ticket?”

“Well, somebody came from here to take Lucy away, and it sounded like Aunt Mariel intended to come back after she passed on a message, so obviously it’s possible to go back. I’m sure we’ll find a way when we need it.”

He looked for a moment like he was going to argue or get angry with her, but she gave him her brightest smile, the one that usually worked even on Aunt Mariel, and the anger faded from his eyes until he was actually grinning. “I guess since we’re here, we might as well get the job done,” he said. “What do we do now?”

Only then did she take stock of where they were. The garden was larger than it had appeared through the portal. Walls surrounded it on three sides, and on the fourth side was a building, with a long, covered walkway facing the garden. The plants in the garden didn’t look too unusual to Dawn. The grass and leaves were green and the flowers were normal flower colors. The air was full of bird song and chatter, which sounded slightly different from the birds at home, but not in a way Dawn could identify or even describe. It certainly didn’t seem like a threatening place, and she couldn’t imagine why the aunts would have stayed away if this was their home.

“I suppose we find out where we are,” she said. “There’s a woman over there we could ask.” She pointed to an elderly woman in a black dress who sat snoozing on a bench in the garden’s far corner.

“We’d better hurry. Miriam could be here at any second. She was coming after us.”

“If she didn’t come right away, she’ll take a few minutes. She won’t go without leaving a note for Matilda.”

Dawn struck off across the garden, Jeremy in her wake, heading toward the sleeping woman. She froze when a peacock fanned its tail and rushed toward them with a raucous screech. It wasn’t an ordinary peacock call. It was words. “Intruders! Alert! Alert!” the peacock cried out. The sleeping woman stirred, but Dawn was too startled about what she’d heard to be afraid of being caught.

She turned to Jeremy to find him looking at her with wide, alarmed eyes. “Do you hear that?” he asked.

“It’s talking,” she agreed. “It’s incredible!”

“Stow it, Mortimer,” another voice called out. “You can tell they’re not a threat.” The peacock paused and fluffed out his tail once more before lowering it and stalking away. The sleeping woman’s head dropped back onto her chest. “Don’t worry about her,” the voice continued. “She’s practically deaf, and nobody pays much attention to Mortimer, anyway. He’s such a show-off.”

Dawn turned to see who’d talked, but all she saw were birds. That was when she knew what had sounded odd about the birdsong: There had been human speech mixed in. Did all the birds talk here? As an experiment, she said, “Hello?”

A chorus of hellos responded. Jeremy’s eyes went even wider, and he took a step backward. “Okay, this is truly freaky,” he whispered.

One little red-breasted bird flew down to Dawn, and she held out a finger for it to roost upon. It tilted its blue-capped head at her and warbled, “You’re a girl!”

“I am.”

“And you came from a far away place!”

“Yes, I did.”

The bird chirped out a burst of song and shot up into the air, where it flew in loops while singing. The song included both normal bird sounds and words. Dawn caught only bits of it, phrases like, “It’s happened! In my time! I’m the one! She’s here!”

“You were expecting me?” she called up to the bird.

It flew back to her, resuming its perch on her finger. “Yes! All my life!”

Her hopes rose. “You know who I am?”

“You’re the girl from far away,” the bird explained with exaggerated patience, as though that much should be obvious.

Jeremy held his hand up in front of his eyes, studying it, then scratched at his skin. “Oh, good, we didn’t just turn into cartoons,” he said. “Now, if you’re through communing with your animal friend, we’d better figure out where we are and where we need to go. Miriam could be here at any second, and you know she won’t let you out of her sight once she finds you.”

“Maybe you can help us,” she said to the bird. “I’m looking for a friend. She’s my age, a bit shorter than me, and has curly brown hair. Have you seen her?”

The bird tilted its head, like it had to think about the question, then asked, “You’re looking for a girl? But I was supposed to look for the girl.”

Another bird perched in a nearby bush gave a trilling laugh and said, “No one your age has been here in years. We don’t get novices anymore. It’s not allowed.”

Dawn knew it couldn’t have been so easy that she could just step through a portal and find Lucy and learn who she really was, but she couldn’t hold back a sigh of disappointment.

“What is this place?” Jeremy asked.

“This is the home of the Sisterhood of Enchantresses,” the bird in the tree said. “Outsiders aren’t welcome here, especially those who come here by magic.”

The bird on Dawn’s finger took flight. “You can’t let them find you! Come on! This way!” it cried as it flew over the wall—a tall, solid wall Dawn and Jeremy didn’t have a hope of getting over, under, or through.

A lizard sunning itself on a protruding stone shook its head and said, “I knew I should have eaten that egg when I had the chance. I’d have done us all a favor.”

Dawn stared at the wall the bird had flown over, torn. Surely if Mariel had come here, and this was the place where the aunts had aimed their portal, she wouldn’t be thrown out as an intruder. But that bird had been expecting her and wanted her to follow it. The little bird was the only one who’d seemed to have any information, so she wanted to stick with it, and if she let Miriam catch her, she might not have another chance to learn anything. “Can you help us get away?” she asked the birds.

One bird flew toward a section of wall behind a row of blooming shrubs. “Back here!” it said. “There’s a door.”

There was, a wooden door so weathered that it blended in with the stone. “But can we get through it?” Dawn asked.

“It’s to keep people out, not in.”

“And apparently not too many people want out, not this way,” Jeremy remarked as he fumbled with the latch. “It’s pretty badly rusted.”

Dawn crouched behind the shrubs and watched anxiously for Miriam to appear. “Hurry,” she urged.

“Just. Give. Me. A—” Jeremy said, punctuating each word with a tug on the reluctant door. When it flew open, he stumbled backward into Dawn’s arms.

Once she steadied him, she saw Miriam step into the garden out of a shimmering in the air. The woman dozing on the bench finally woke as more black-clad women came into the garden, carrying gardening tools. “Go!” Dawn urged Jeremy with a shove. They slipped through the doorway and eased it closed, then ran down the sloping lawn, away from the garden wall.

They reached the shelter of a nearby wooded area, where they hid behind a tree and looked to see if anyone had followed them. The door they’d come through opened again, and Miriam and two other women dressed just like her came out and looked around.

“Oh, there you are! What took you so long?” a nearby voice chirped loudly. Dawn looked up to see their bird friend perching on a tree branch overhead.

“We don’t have wings,” Jeremy pointed out.

Dawn signaled him to hush and asked the bird, “What’s your name?”

“They call me Spink.”

“Hello, Spink. You said you were expecting me.”

“I knew a girl would come here from far away.”

“How did you know this?”

“My mother told me. And her father before her. And his father. And his mother. And her father—”

“Now, what about the girl from far away?” she interrupted before the bird went through its entire family history.

“She’s supposed to go to the castle as soon as she gets here.”

“What castle?”

There was a moment of hesitation, like the bird had to think. “It’s a castle on a river, in a town,” it said after a while.

Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest. “When we went to Europe on vacation last summer, just about every town on a river had a castle in it.”

The bird fluttered its wings and gave a distressed whistle. “It’s the castle, the important one. And I have to take you there.”

“Do you at least know where the river is?” Dawn asked.

“It’s very near. I’ve even seen it myself!”

“Would you please take us there?”

“Whoa, wait a second,” Jeremy put in, stepping in between Dawn and the branch where the bird sat. “Do you think that’s such a good idea? Do we want to get away from what could be our only way back home? And if your aunts set things up to come to this place, where they seem to belong to this Sisterhood, would they really leave it up to a bird to get you where you need to be?”

“Maybe Spink was sent by our real allies, the people my aunts took me away from.”

“Geez, you gave Lucy your necklace, and it seems like she gave you her imagination. You don’t know that they kidnapped you. Maybe you ought to try asking them questions before you run off. Now that you obviously know about the portal and the other world, they can’t hide everything from you. They’ll have to tell you the truth.”

“But how will I know it’s the truth? Once they know I’m here, I’m sure they won’t let me go off and learn anything else. But if we don’t learn anything elsewhere, we can always come back here and find them.”

“That’s if we can get back.”

“Jeremy, this is the right thing to do. I can feel it. It’s just like I knew I had to go through that portal.”

“But do we know we can trust this bird? You don’t know anything about this world. For all we know, there’s an evil coalition of songbirds running the place.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jeremy!” Dawn realized that she was actually arguing with him. She’d never argued with anyone before. She’d had moments when she had to be persuasive, but she’d never raised her voice or had to think of something to counter everything another person said. It was almost as exhilarating as hearing applause onstage. But while they were arguing, the bird flew off. “Hey, wait!” Dawn called out as she ran after it.

“Dawn!” Jeremy shouted behind her, but she didn’t want to lose sight of the bird, so she kept running. Even though Spink was tiny, his dark red breast made him easy to follow through the woods. Dawn dodged trees and leapt fallen logs as she chased Spink. She wasn’t alone. Other forest creatures joined the chase, frolicking alongside her. There was a fawn on its delicate legs, along with a couple of cottontailed rabbits, and several more birds flying overhead.

Spink didn’t seem to notice the parade following him through the woods. “Spink! Wait for me!” Dawn called out, and some of the animals took up the call in human speech. One of the birds flew ahead, and soon Spink circled back.

“We’re going to the river, and then to the castle,” Spink chirped.

Panting to catch her breath, Dawn said, “Yes, I know, and I was following you, but remember, I can’t fly.”

“The lady can’t fly,” the fawn repeated with a giggle.

Dawn turned slowly around to see the cluster of animals gazing at her with adoring eyes. “Oh, you’re all so cute! And thank you for your help.” Jeremy caught up to her, and the smaller animals cowered behind her. “It’s okay,” she reassured them. “He’s my friend.”

“They talk, too?” he asked.

“Some of us do,” one of the rabbits said.

“They’re all friendly,” Dawn assured Jeremy. “They helped me catch Spink.”

“Thanks a lot,” he said, but he didn’t sound very grateful.

“Now we’d better go,” Dawn told the animals. “It was lovely to meet you, but I have to go now. You’re all so sweet, I wish you could come with me, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“I agree. They should all stay right here,” a voice growled. It was a voice that sent shivers down Dawn’s spine.

***

            “Go!” Larkin barked, adding a quick series of yips before he turned and ran back the way they’d come. Leila ran ahead of Sebastian and the princess. Sebastian squeezed the princess’s hand tighter as he started to run. Although her legs were far shorter than his, she kept up with him. Behind them came the sound of growls and high-pitched barks that reminded Sebastian of dogs fighting in the stableyard. Larkin must have been trying to delay their pursuers.

Leila returned, breathing heavily. “There is a safe house ahead,” she panted. “Hurry.”

The undergrowth was lighter there, so they were able to run faster. Soon, they came to a thatched cottage in a clearing. The blue-edged white handkerchief that signified allegiance to the Loyalist cause hung in the front window, and a woman emerged from the house as they approached.

“Long live the king,” Sebastian said.

“And his queen,” the woman replied. “Get inside, quickly.” Once they were inside, she pulled a rope ladder down from a beam overhead. Sebastian held the ladder steady while the princess climbed it, then followed her up, pulled the ladder up, and cut the ropes off the beam. The woman called to them, “Go to the back corner.” Crawling from one beam to the next, they got to an area where boards across the beams created a floor. Sebastian shoved the princess into the corner, positioned himself to shield her and pulled some burlap sacks over them.

He held his breath when someone pounded on the door below, and he could feel the princess stiffen in fear at the sound. He held her tighter so she couldn’t move. The boards under them weren’t nailed down, so even the slightest movement would be noticeable. The woman waited a second or two before opening the door and calling out cheerfully, “Good day to you, good sirs. How may I be of service to you? I have ale if you are thirsty.”

There was a slight hesitation, as though the witch’s men weren’t expecting hospitality and weren’t sure how to react, then one said, “We are seeking a boy and a girl. Every house in the forest must be searched.”

“You’ll not find them here,” the woman said, “but you are free to look. As you can see, there’s nowhere to hide in here, just the one room.”

The sound of a slap made Sebastian flinch inwardly. His every knightly instinct told him to go to the woman’s aid, but his first duty was to the princess. He hadn’t noticed much furniture in the room, but the guards were turning over every piece of it, from the sound of things. The noise seemed to go on forever, and Sebastian was sure that, as thorough as they were being, the guards were bound to discover the hiding place above. Finally, one of the men said, “They wouldn’t have stopped so soon, not if they knew we were right behind them.”

“Ah, let the others find them,” said another voice. “I’m tired of walking. Now, woman, you mentioned ale?”

The searchers were in no hurry to leave. They stayed there, demanding more and more ale, laughing, and talking. Were they going to stay the rest of the day? Sebastian wondered what he should do if they drank until they passed out. Would it be safe to sneak past them then, or would he and the princess have to stay hidden until the guards left?

Fortunately, it didn’t come to that. The men finally had their fill of ale and took their leave with unsteady footsteps. The princess relaxed a little after the door shut, but Sebastian held her tight, hoping she understood from the pressure of his hand on her shoulder that she should be still and wait. He wasn’t sure how much longer it was when a familiar bark sounded outside. The door opened, and Leila’s voice said, “They are gone.”

Sebastian pulled the sacks away and slowly sat up, then helped the princess up. He retied the ladder to the beam and climbed down and held the ladder for the princess. She was trembling, either from the aftershocks of fear or from having to stay so still for so long, so he steadied her with a hand on her waist, then caught her and lifted her down, holding her until she was able to stand on her own. He wouldn’t have minded letting her cling to him tighter or longer, but he knew that was improper. She was a princess of the realm and he was a mere squire, he reminded himself, no matter how good it felt to have her in his arms.

She stepped away from him unsteadily, then gasped when she saw their rescuer’s face. Her lip was split, bleeding, and already swelling, and her face was stained with tears. “Oh my!” the princess said. “Look what they did to you. I’m so sorry.” She took the woman by the arm and led her over to the bench by the rough wooden table near the hearth. She took her healing supplies from her pack and tore open a small pouch. “Now, this may sting a bit,” she said before dabbing at the split lip. “That’s probably going to be pretty ugly for a day or so, but it should heal,” she said.

The woman looked up at her and went deathly pale as her breath caught in her throat. “Oh, forgive me, your highness,” she gasped as she slid off the bench onto her knees at the princess’s feet and grabbed her hand to kiss it. “I didn’t realize it was you.” The princess jumped back in surprise, her fingers going to the necklace at her throat. “To think, the princess is back, and in my home!”

“Please, you don’t have to kneel,” the princess said, helping the woman up and back onto the bench. “You got your lip split for me, and that makes us practically best friends.”

The woman flushed a bright pink and cast her eyes down. “Your highness is most kind.”

“Um, well, thanks.” The princess turned to Sebastian. “Sebastian, shouldn’t we be going now? I mean, the coast is clear, right?”

Again, he wasn’t sure what she’d said, but he thought she’d asked if it was safe for them to go. “I suppose it depends on which direction the searchers went and what amount of ground they’re covering.”

“If they’re smart, they’ll spread out,” the princess said, chewing on her lower lip in thought. “That’ll make it really hard to get by them. Maybe we should wait a while.”

“We don’t have that much time. We have a long way to go, and we have to be there by sundown.”

“And probably everyone between here and there will be looking for us, right?”

“I believe so.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t be the ones traveling.”

Continued in Chapter Seven.

Here’s the next installment of my serial novel. You can find the first part here. The previous chapter is here.

Chapter Five

            A voice cried out, “Long live the king,” and Sebastian visibly relaxed as a pair of big dogs crawled through the underbrush into the clearing. Several deer followed them, picking their way delicately through the vines and undergrowth.

“We led them on a good chase,” the lead dog growled. “They’ll never track you back here. You should be safe.”

“You must be Larkin,” Sebastian said with the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Yes, and this is my mate Leila. We will guide you to the rendezvous.” Larkin turned his head toward Lucy and sniffed. “So, this is the princess?”

“Yes, this is the princess,” Sebastian said. “Melantha hadn’t harmed her yet. Thank goodness we got to her in time.”

“And now we have hope,” one of the deer said in a voice that sounded like velvet.

“Hope! Hope!” came murmurs from all the other animals gathered in the clearing. Lucy’s knees felt wobbly, and she had to sit down. The princess—Aurora or Dawn or whoever she really was—must have truly meant something to the people of this world. Boy, were they going to be disappointed that they just had plain old Lucy instead.

“The princess tires,” a doe pointed out.

“Oh! I am truly sorry, your highness,” Sebastian said. “Please forgive me for neglecting your comfort.” He dug in his saddlebags and pulled out a wineskin and a few cloth-wrapped parcels. “It is only bread and cheese and some ale, but that will sustain us for tonight. We will travel to a safe place that will be far more comfortable tomorrow.”

He opened the parcels, took a knife off his belt and cut bread and cheese into hunks, then passed a portion to Lucy. She was so hungry that bread and cheese—which were normally two of her favorite foods anyway—were the best meal she’d ever eaten. When she’d finished the food, he passed her the skin of ale. She’d never had ale before and wasn’t entirely sure what it was. As she recalled, it was something kind of like beer. Not that she’d had beer, either. She was a Baptist girl from a small town, after all, and she wasn’t nearly cool enough to be invited to the pasture parties where everyone sat around drinking beer.

She just about had to hold her nose to manage to swallow enough to get the dryness out of her mouth, and it burned all the way down her throat. It took all her self-control not to gag or cough. On the bright side, the alcohol probably killed all those amebas she was worried about.

She passed the skin back to Sebastian, who took a good, long swig of the stuff. He was probably used to it. He held the skin back toward her, but she shook her head. “No, you have the rest. You need it more than I do, with that shoulder.”

“Shoulder?” Larkin asked.

“He caught an arrow.”

“But the princess has tended my wound,” Sebastian hurried to add.

“Ah, I thought I smelled blood. If you’re wounded, you must rest.”

Sebastian gave a deep sigh, like he was finally acknowledging that they were safe and was letting himself release all the tension from the rescue. “Yes, we must rest. You’ll stand guard?”

“We will stand guard,” the dog said.

With a nod, Sebastian lay down on his uninjured side. Lucy took his cloak from around her shoulders and draped it over him, and pretty soon he was out cold.

Larkin’s mate Leila came over to Lucy. “You should sleep, as well, highness,” she said, bowing low over her front legs. The dog lay next to Lucy. “You may rest your head on my side, highness.” That was when it really hit Lucy what it must mean to be a princess—at least, in a place like this. It wasn’t about wearing a crown and a pretty dress. It was about people—and, in this place, animals—really believing she was someone special who could give them hope for a better future. She had a lot to live up to.

***

            Back in her bedroom, Dawn put on her sturdiest, most practical clothing: a pair of cargo pants, running shoes, and a t-shirt under a shirt with a lot of pockets. She emptied her schoolbooks out of her backpack and filled it with a couple of changes of underwear and socks, her toothbrush, and some toothpaste. She wasn’t sure what else to take, since she didn’t know what the world on the other side of the portal was like beyond the garden she’d seen. Almost as an afterthought, she clasped the bracelet Lucy had given her around her wrist.

She slipped out of the house while her aunts were still sound asleep. The songbirds in the trees outside greeted her with their usual chorus. “Please, not now!” she said, hoping she hadn’t hurt their feelings when they suddenly went quiet again. She sprinted up the street. Once she was out of sight of her home, she slowed down and walked the rest of the way to Jeremy’s street. Jeremy was an Eagle Scout, so he knew about things like camping and hiking, reading maps, and maybe even navigating by the sun, moon, and stars—all skills she thought might be handy on this mission. He was always up for an adventure. The trick would be getting him to believe her.

Thinking about what she’d have to tell him made her want to turn back. She could be going through the portal right now instead of waiting until Jeremy’s parents left for work. But, no, she couldn’t do this alone. She found a comfortable spot leaning against a tree behind some bushes and let herself doze off. She woke when the sun came up, then waited until Jeremy’s parents drove away. As soon as they were gone, she came out of her hiding place and brushed the dirt and leaves off her pants. Something must have bitten her while she slept because the tip of her right index finger was really itchy.

She was still rubbing her finger against the rough fabric of her pants when Jeremy answered her knock on his door. “What are you doing out here alone?” he asked. “Lucy got grabbed yesterday in broad daylight. I was going to come over to walk you to school.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” she said, and she hadn’t, since she knew that Lucy hadn’t been taken by ordinary kidnappers. “But I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

He stepped back and gestured her inside. “I’ve got some stuff I need to get together before I leave. You can talk to me while I work. Have you had breakfast?”

She realized that she was about to head off to what seemed to be another world on an empty stomach. She wasn’t too hungry, but she let him microwave some pancakes for her, and she ate while he stuffed his backpack with marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate bars, and bags of candy. “Are you running away?” she asked.

“I don’t think I’d get far on s’mores ingredients,” he said with a laugh. “No, I’m leading a hike for one of the younger troops right after school, and at the end we’re doing a camp fire. I thought about canceling after what happened to Lucy, but it’s not like I can do anything to help her, and you try telling a bunch of nine-year-olds that something they’ve looked forward to for months won’t happen.” He shoved a bottle of water in with the food. “So, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

She almost changed her mind about telling him, since he did have plans for the day, but she didn’t think she could do this without him. “It’s about Lucy. And about me, I guess. I think what happened to her had something to do with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know how Lucy always said that maybe my aunts weren’t really my aunts?”

“Yeah, she even did an Internet search for missing kids who fit your description.”

“She might be right. I don’t know about kidnapping, but don’t you think I’d know something about who I was if they really were my aunts? Don’t your aunts tell you stories about your mother or father when they were kids together? Have you seen pictures of your parents when they were kids, and of the rest of your family?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’ve never seen any of that. If my parents are dead, wouldn’t real aunts want me to know something about them? I don’t even know my parents’ names. I don’t know where I was born. I’ve never met a relative other than my aunts. The only thing I have that has anything to do with my parents is my necklace. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is weird. But what does this have to do with Lucy?”

“She was wearing my necklace, and I overheard my aunts talking about it. They seemed to think that whoever took her thought they were getting me because of my necklace and were taking me back to where I’m really from. And they were almost glad about it, like it worked out better for them that way. But that’s not all. You’ve got to see what I found in the garden shed.”

“Dead bodies?”

“Ew! No! Something else. It’s hard to describe. You’ll see.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve tried talking to your aunts about this.”

“If they’ve been hiding things from me my whole life, and they’re still not telling me what’s going on even after what happened to Lucy, do you think they’d give me a straight answer now?”

“Maybe not.”

“And if I ask, they’ll get suspicious, and that will make it harder for me to learn the truth.”

“Do you have a plan for finding the truth?”

“First you have to see what’s in the garden shed.”

“Okay, you’ve got me curious, I have to admit.” He picked up his backpack and slid the straps over his shoulders. “Let’s go.”

When they got to Dawn’s house, they sneaked around to the side yard. “Now we just need to get to the back yard without them seeing us,” she said.

“This sounds awfully sinister.”

“It might be. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“I think maybe Lucy has been a bad influence on you. You’ve picked up her paranoia.” She gave him a pleading look, and he sighed. “Maybe it’s time for a prank call,” he said, getting out his cell phone. “You don’t have caller ID, do you?”

“We barely have a phone.”

“Okay, you’re about to get in big trouble at school.”

“I don’t think I’m even supposed to be in school today. I had to sneak out during the night.”

“That makes the trouble even worse, and they’ll be more likely to come get you. Do you think all three of them will go?”

“Mariel’s already gone. She went somewhere last night, and I don’t think she’s back yet. Matilda will probably be the one to go. She’s always taken the parent role at school. That just leaves Miriam.”

“Then we’ll need to get her to look out the front windows long enough for us to get into the back yard and see whatever it is you want to show me.”

“I’m sure my friends will help,” she said, looking up at where birds were already congregating in the tree next to them.

He placed the call. When one of the aunts answered, he deepened his voice and said, “Ms. Royal? This is Principal Jade at the high school. I’m calling about your niece, Dawn. We need you to come to the school right away.” Dawn heard the anxious voice on the other end of the call and felt a stab of guilt. “Yes, she did come to school today.” Another pause, then, “No, she’s all right. But there is something we need to discuss about her behavior. I’m sure she’s just upset about her friend disappearing, but we don’t need that kind of disruption in class … Thank you. I’ll see you shortly.”

He closed the phone and put it back in his pocket. “Sounds like she bit. We’d better get ready.” They opened the gate and stepped into the back yard, staying where they couldn’t be seen from the house. From the front yard, they heard voices. “I’ll be back soon, Miriam,” Matilda shouted. “Keep an eye out for that signal or for any word from Mariel.”

“Now,” Jeremy whispered, and Dawn gave a quick whistle and gestured at the birds. They took flight all at once and made a real uproar. Dawn could hear Miriam trying to shoo them away in the front yard. Jeremy grabbed Dawn’s hand and they took off across the lawn to the garden shed.

“Now, what was it you wanted to show me?” he asked.

She unlatched the door and flung it open, hoping the portal was still there. If it wasn’t, she’d look incredibly silly.

It was most definitely there. The garden on the other side was bathed in morning light, so that the shed’s interior was strangely sunlit. The portal tugged at her even more strongly than it had the night before. That other world must be her true home, its call to her was so strong. “Whoa!” Jeremy breathed. “Is that like a window, or can you actually go through to that place?”

“I think you can go through. Mariel went into the shed last night and didn’t come out.”

“So when you said the aunts might know where Lucy was taken, and the people who took her may have thought they were taking you, back to the place you’re really from, it was the place through this portal?”

“I think so. My aunts were creating this while they were talking about taking me home. This must be how they planned to do it.” She stiffened her spine and turned to face him. “I’m going through to see if I can find Lucy and help her get back and maybe learn something about who I am. I would appreciate your help if you want to come with me.”

“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

“I know it is. I can feel it. Every fiber of my being is telling me that I have to go through that portal.”

“Do you think it’s safe?”

She gestured toward the tranquil setting on the other side. “It’s a garden! And it’s where my aunts set up the portal to go. I don’t think they’d send themselves into danger. It’s where they were apparently planning to take me, so I’m only going where they want me to go. I’m merely doing it on my own schedule.”

He looked at the portal and back at her, frowning. Then he got the gleam in his eyes that usually meant they were about to do something that would get them all in trouble. “Okay, I guess the kids are going to miss that hike, after all. Unless, that is, we can find Lucy, unmask your secret identity, and get back before school lets out.”

She gave him a quick hug. “Thank you so much! I didn’t want to go alone, and I knew you’d be helpful.”

He took out his pocket knife, opened it and held it ready. “Since we don’t know what’s waiting for us on the other side,” he explained.

The last thing Dawn heard before they passed through the portal was Miriam’s voice calling her name.

***

            The first thing Sebastian noticed when he woke the next morning was a twinge in his upper left arm. That flash of pain brought back everything that had happened the night before and made it clear that it hadn’t been a dream. Sergeant Fulk really had found him in the armory and told him he had to rescue Princess Aurora from the castle dungeon. He really had stolen the dungeon keys and walked out of the castle with the strangely dressed princess. Now, he supposed, he was an outlaw—at least until the princess took her rightful place as ruler of the land. Until then, his job wasn’t over until he delivered her safely to the Loyalists.

He sat up, suppressing a groan, and cringed when his cloak fell off his shoulders. He should have given it to the princess. What kind of knight was he—that was, almost-knight—if he let a princess sleep exposed to the elements while he slept under his cloak? He recalled that he’d fallen asleep first, at her orders, and the last thing he remembered was her tucking the cloak around him. He didn’t think that was how a rescue was supposed to go.

Then again, none of this was what he’d expected. He’d pictured a delicate princess he’d have to protect from every danger and hardship, and instead she’d been the one to tend his wound and take care of him. She was much more capable than he’d imagined a princess would be. She should be good at things like embroidery and dancing, not pulling arrows out of shoulders.

The princess was still sound asleep, curled up on her side, her head resting on Leila’s back. The stories said she’d been gifted magically at birth with great beauty, and he’d always pictured that to mean she’d be tall and willowy, with flowing golden hair and porcelain skin. But, he supposed, that was too conventional to be truly great beauty. There were so many beautiful girls who looked like that. This princess was more striking, in her own way, with her small frame and masses of curls the color of dark honey.

He went to the stream to wash his face, and when he returned, she was sitting up and yawning. “I guess it wasn’t a dream,” she said with a wry smile.

“I am afraid not, your highness.” He took the food from his saddlebag and offered her more bread. She made a face when she drank from his aleskin, but she didn’t complain.

“How’s the shoulder?” she asked between bites of bread.

“It’s sore, but I can use the arm.”

“Well, take it easy. You don’t want to strain it too much until it has a chance to heal. Popping a stitch isn’t pretty.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what she had said, but from the context, he took it to mean that he shouldn’t overtax the injured arm, lest the wound reopen. She spoke so strangely.

“So, now what?” was her next question.

“If you are ready, we should begin travel soon. I am to take you to a rendezvous point, where the Loyalist leaders will take charge of you.”

“Okay, then. Let’s get a move on.” She stood, brushed the dirt and leaves from her clothing, and put her knapsack over her shoulders.

He took his own pack from his saddlebags. With great regret, he gave his horse a swat on the rump and said, “Go home, now!” It just looked back at him with what he might have sworn was a look of hurt and betrayal in its eyes.

“We’re not taking the horse?” the princess asked.

“It would slow us down in the deep woods, and it is very hard to be stealthy with a warhorse.”

“Good point. They also eat a ton.”

He had to fight back a smile as he turned to address his horse again. He wouldn’t want the princess to think he was mocking her. With a sharp pang of regret, he said more firmly, “I said go home, you! You’ll have good food there, and you’ll like that.”

The horse took a few steps away, then hesitated. Sebastian groaned and tried to think of a way to reason with a horse when a wolf charged into the clearing. The princess squeaked, barely biting back a scream, and jumped behind Sebastian. He put his hand on his sword and called out, “Long live the king!”

“And also his queen,” the wolf said, giving the countersign.

Sebastian relaxed and asked, “What is it?”

“They’re searching the forest with dogs,” the wolf growled. The curl of his lip gave a good indication of what he thought about dogs willing to work for the witch. “You must go. My pack will distract them.”

He turned and ran back into the woods before they had a chance to thank him or ask questions. Sebastian swatted the horse again. “Go, I said!” he urged, trying not to sound desperate.

The stag said, “We’ll take care of him.” He and the doe charged at the horse, who finally took off running. The three of them disappeared into the forest. Sebastian took the princess’s hand and followed Leila and Larkin out of the clearing.

The princess’s odd clothes were well suited for travel. She wore leggings of a heavy fabric that should protect her well from the branches and brambles of the forest, and though it wasn’t seemly that she wore men’s clothing, it did mean she had more freedom of movement. Her shoes wouldn’t hold up to long travel as well as boots, but they were more substantial than the light slippers ladies wore at court. He wondered if she’d been in disguise before she was captured.

He hoped they had a good head start on their pursuers and wondered if they were using bloodhounds to track a scent or merely using hunting dogs to flush out their prey. The princess’s hand felt small and damp in his, and when he glanced at her, her face was pale, but her jaw had a stubborn, determined set to it.

Perhaps noticing his attention, she smiled and asked, “Have I thanked you yet for rescuing me?”

He straightened his back and held his head high. “No thanks are necessary. I am merely doing my duty as a loyal subject of your kingdom and my part to restore the rightful rulers to the throne.”

Her grin grew, as though she found something to be humorous, then it faded, and she frowned as she asked, “What happened to the king and queen?”

“We don’t know where they are—if they’re even alive. They disappeared just before Melantha staged her coup two years ago. We were afraid that when you returned, the witch would lie in wait to capture you. The Loyalists were ready to rescue you, though they had to adjust their plans when you came back earlier than expected.”

“Actually, she kidnapped me from my world.”

“Your world?”

She sighed. “It’s really hard to explain, since I don’t understand it all, myself. But I’ve been living in this other, well, I guess you could call it another reality, like maybe a parallel universe. Anyway, this other, far-off place where I’m guessing you can only go using magic.”

That explained her strange manner of dress and her foreign way of talking. “And she went after you in that place?”

“Not personally, but she sent her people to bring me back. That’s how I got here.”

“How did they find you? No one was supposed to know where you were hidden. Not even your parents knew. The enchantresses told no one where they were going. There was to be a signal so they would know it was safe to return to the kingdom after the curse expired, and we assumed the witch had learned how to send the signal to bring you here.”

“I have no clue,” she admitted. “All I know is, these three guys came riding through my town, saw my necklace, grabbed me, and brought me here.”

“Perhaps the enchantresses will return after your disappearance from the other world, and they will be able to help.”

“Yeah, that would be real handy, wouldn’t it?” She was smiling again, as though she’d found something he said amusing or ironic. He didn’t see the humor in the situation.

Their situation became even less amusing when he heard the sound of barking dogs in the distance. Their pursuers were gaining on them.

Continued in chapter six.

Here’s chapter four of the serial story I’m posting on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. If you missed the beginning, you can find it here. The previous chapter is here. I think this might be my favorite part of the whole book. Enjoy!

Chapter Four

            A whole squad of guards surrounded Lucy as they marched her down the hall, the one guard holding her arm so tightly she was sure she’d be black and blue later. They went on for what felt like forever, up lots of steps and down lots of hallways, until they got to something that looked like a throne room. The room was big and long, with a high, vaulted ceiling. Banners hung from the wooden beams. Torches along the walls provided a dim, flickering light as the sunlight from outside faded.

At the end of the room on a raised platform sat two big, golden thrones surrounded by more torches. On one of the thrones sat a woman wearing a long dress of red shiny material that was so dark it was almost black, like dried blood. The red only showed when the light hit it just right, and then it was like the dress caught on fire. Lucy told herself that if she lived through this and got a prom date (which would probably require two separate miracles), she would make herself a dress like that for prom.

As she got closer to the throne, she could see that the woman wasn’t nearly beautiful enough to work that dress. She could have been, but Lucy realized her mom was right when she said “pretty is as pretty does,” because while this woman had beautiful features—aside from what looked like an overuse of Botox—there was still something ugly in her expression that ruined her whole look.

“Bring her to me,” the woman said. The guards formed a corridor, down which the one guard led Lucy. When they got to the front of the platform, he shoved her onto her knees and took one step back. The woman stood, which made the light do some amazing things on her dress. As scared as she was, Lucy found herself thinking about how fantastic that dress would look under a disco ball or with strobe lights. Focusing on that irrelevant detail kept her from completely losing her cool.

The woman came to loom over Lucy, and up close she was older than she looked at first. It wasn’t so much that she’d gone crazy with the Botox as it was that she’d filled in the creases with powder, and she’d used baby powder instead of skin-toned or even translucent powder, so her face was stark white. Her eyebrows had been plucked to thin lines, her eyes were rimmed in harsh black liner, and her red lipstick totally clashed with the red of her dress. Fabulous dress aside, girlfriend was seriously in need of a makeover, Lucy thought.

“So, here you are, after all these years, just as I foretold,” the woman said. Her voice was deep, almost masculine.

“Uh, foretold?” Lucy asked, her heart pounding so hard she could practically hear it.

The woman ignored the question. “I declared on the day of your christening that before the sun set on your sixteenth birthday, you would die.”

“But, I’m Baptist, and we don’t do christenings,” Lucy said. “We just do infant dedications.”

The woman glared at her, and Lucy wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “You dare to interrupt me with your talk of strange customs from the world where you’ve been hidden? I was there on that day. I know what happened. You cannot lie to me. Now,” she declared triumphantly, raising her arms above her head, “it has finally come to pass. And here is the instrument of your doom, the way I foretold it.” With a graceful gesture that made the loose sleeves of her dress shimmer, she pointed to a spinning wheel that stood beside her throne.

A spinning wheel as the instrument of doom? There was something very familiar about that. While Lucy was still working it out, the guard grabbed her arm, dragged her to her feet, and marched her up onto the platform.

The woman looked at her like she was waiting for Lucy to do something. Lucy gave her what she hoped was the universal gesture and facial expression for “And …?”

“Follow your compulsion!” the woman shouted. “Don’t try to fight it. I am stronger than you, and I will win in the end.”

Worrying that she was going to get herself slapped at any moment, Lucy asked, “Compulsion?”

Some of the woman’s triumph wilted. “You don’t feel compelled to do anything? Nothing calls to you or draws you?”

You mean, other than the exit? Lucy wanted to say, but she thought better of it. “No, ma’am.”

The woman sighed. “It was an old spell. It’s bound to have faded.” She pulled herself together and repeated, “And now, the moment of my triumph.” She raised her arms, cackled and shouted, “Touch it! Touch the spindle!”

With a shrug, Lucy reached out and touched the tip of her finger to the part of the spinning wheel the woman was pointing to. It stung a little, and Lucy pulled her hand back to suck on her finger. The room hung frozen for a second, with everyone there holding their breath. They all seemed to be waiting for something to happen.

But nothing did. The crazy woman looked at Lucy, and veins popped out in her neck and forehead. “What?” she shrieked. “What is this? Why is nothing happening?” She swept over to Lucy, grabbed her wrists, and pulled Lucy’s hands up to her face so she could see the drop of blood on the tip of Lucy’s finger. “You were supposed to die! Don’t you feel faint, or lightheaded? The world’s not going dark, is it?”

“No, not really. I’m kind of freaked out, I’ll admit, but I feel fine.” Then because the woman seemed very angry about that, and her being angry was probably not good for Lucy’s continued well-being, Lucy added, “My finger hurts,” as if that made up for her not dying.

The woman whirled to face her guards. “She was supposed to die. I, myself, cast the spell so that before the sun set on her sixteenth birthday, the Princess Aurora would prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die, and then the kingdom would truly be mine.”

That was when Lucy realized why all this sounded familiar. It was Sleeping Beauty. The evil witch, fairy, or whatever had cursed the princess to prick her finger and die—though death by spinning wheel seemed like a really odd way to off someone. That was as bad as some of the things James Bond villains came up with. But, supposedly, one of the good fairies had changed that so the princess would only sleep until true love’s first kiss woke her. And, at least in the Disney version, the good fairies had then taken the princess off into hiding to protect her until she turned sixteen.

But there was one tiny problem with this. It may have been Lucy’s sixteenth birthday, but she wasn’t Princess Aurora. She wasn’t a princess of any kind. She hadn’t even been elected a homecoming duchess.

“Are you sure you got the right girl?” the witch asked her guards. “Those enchantresses are quite clever, and they hid her so well that I never found her until now.”

“She’s wearing the royal insignia,” the guard pointed out.

The witch stepped closer to Lucy, raised Lucy’s chin with one bony finger, and peered at Dawn’s necklace without touching it. “Yes, she does have the royal insignia. Perhaps we must wait for the proper time for the spindle. There are five more days. Return her to the dungeon.”

Only as the guard grabbed her and dragged her away did Lucy make the connection that should have been obvious. “Aurora” meant “dawn,” and it was Dawn’s necklace.

Which meant that her best friend was Sleeping Beauty.

The guards threw her back into her cell. Now that there wasn’t even the slightest hint of sunlight coming through the window, the cell was dark and spooky, with the faint light coming from the torches in the corridor doing more to cast shadows than to actually illuminate anything. Lucy paced while she assessed the situation as rationally as she could. She was, apparently, trapped in a storybook world. It was a place where animals—birds, at least—could talk and where the fairy tales from Lucy’s world were current events. Sleeping Beauty was still wide awake and hadn’t been anywhere near the fatal spindle yet. In fact, she might never go near the fatal spindle since she was, as far as Lucy knew, still safely in Texas, where no one had the slightest idea who she was. It was Lucy who was stuck living out the story.

Would it still be a Sleeping Beauty story if the beauty never went to sleep? And wasn’t particularly beautiful?

There was a noise outside the cell door, and Lucy shrank into the shadows, worried that the evil witch had figured out a way to make her own prophecy come true and had sent the guards back for her. The figure that appeared at the barred door was a young man, maybe a few years older than Lucy, as far as she could tell in the torchlight, and he didn’t wear a guard’s uniform.

“Shhh!” he hissed as she took a tentative step out of the shadows. Moving like he was trying to be really quiet, he took a big iron key from a pouch on his belt and unlocked the cell door. Then he knelt in the doorway and bowed his head. “Your highness.”

Lucy wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond to that. Did she thank someone who was bowing to her, and would he stay like that forever until she told him it was okay for him to get up?

“Who are you?” she asked. She figured that sounded royal enough, while still being a pretty important question.

He raised his head to look at her. He was rather cute, with wavy brown hair that was a little long on top and cut really short around his ears and at the back of his neck. He wore a sword at his belt and a green-and-black surcoat with a coat of arms on it that would make a great Camelot costume if she ever got home to volunteer as costume designer for the show. “I am Sebastian Sinclair, your highness, a squire to Lord Argus. The Loyalists sent me to rescue you.”

She liked the idea of rescue, but how did she know she could trust him? It wasn’t like she could ask for a photo ID to be sure of who he was. “What’s a Loyalist?” she asked.

“We oppose the witch and want to restore the royal family. Most important at this moment, we need to save your life.”

Her mom would kill her for running off with a stranger, but better a stranger who seemed nice and who was at least pretending to be friendly than a stranger who’d already said she planned to kill her. “Okay, then,” she said, “let’s get out of here.” She grabbed her backpack and headed for the door.

He stood and caught her by the elbow. “Caution, your highness.” He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. It had come to just below his knees, but on Lucy it nearly reached the ground. She pulled the hood up and let it drape over her face. He stepped ahead of her into the hallway and looked around before holding his hand out to her. She took it and they hurried down the corridor, walking quickly, but not so quickly that it looked suspiciously like they were breaking out of prison.

Sebastian seemed to know his way around the castle. He never hesitated to turn down a hallway or go up a flight of stairs. He was pretty tall, and Lucy was very much not, so she had to practically run to keep up with his long legs. He must have been known—and maybe even important, or at least working for someone important—because everyone they passed nodded at him. Some even bowed their heads or bobbed little curtseys at him. They were in the lower levels of the castle, where the kitchens and laundry rooms were, so most of the people they met were servants. Lucy had a feeling the evil witch who ran this place wasn’t exactly up for boss of the year, so even if these people had suspected Sebastian was breaking out with a prisoner, she doubted they’d have tried to stop him.

They finally came out into the stables. “Do you mind riding double, your highness?” he asked as he untied a big chestnut horse. “I am afraid two missing horses might arouse more suspicion.”

“That’s fine with me,” she said. She had ridden horses before, but only old nags on her granddad’s farm, so she didn’t think she was up to riding for her life, if it came to that.

He pulled himself easily up into the saddle, then held a hand down to her. She put one foot on top of his boot where it rested in the stirrup, and from there he lifted her to sit in front of him in the saddle. She moved her backpack around to rest in her lap. “This may be less comfortable for you, your highness,” he said as he wrapped one arm around her waist, “but this way, you aren’t visible to anyone following us.” She couldn’t complain about being held against the rock-hard body of a cute guy. That wasn’t the sort of thing that happened to her every day. Or ever, really.

He kicked the horse into motion and they rode to the castle gates. She held her breath as they went under the big arch, waiting for someone to shout about an escaped prisoner, but no one said anything. They rode through the town, heading straight for the bridge. That seemed like the next hurdle, as it was a drawbridge, and one word from the witch could block the only route out of town that Lucy had noticed.

But the bridge was down, and nobody stopped them from crossing. Sebastian kept the horse at a casual pace even though she wished they could go faster. They’d just landed on the road on the other side when someone behind them shouted. Lucy turned and saw a giant fireball on the castle’s highest tower. It must have been a signal. Without cell phones or walkie-talkies, that was probably the best they could do. The guards on the far side of the river immediately went into pursuit.

Sebastian gave the horse a good kick and held Lucy tighter. The horse took off, and she was glad Sebastian was holding her so tight—now not so much because he was hot but because falling off the horse would have been a disaster. They had a head start, but it sounded like more guards were joining the chase. She hoped Sebastian knew where he was going and had a safe destination in mind because she doubted the poor horse could keep going very long at that speed carrying both of them.

Something whizzed by in the air, and she couldn’t help but flinch. “Arrows,” Sebastian said.

Now she was really glad he hadn’t made her ride behind him. She’d have been an easy target. But that meant his reasonably broad back was now the target, and he was the one who knew how to ride and—she hoped—where they were going.

A pack of dogs ran toward Sebastian and Lucy from the woods. Now would have been a really good time to have Dawn there, since she could tame even the meanest stray with a single word. But the dogs went right past them, running at the pursuers. Along with them were some deer and foxes. Lucy could have sworn she heard someone say, “Keep going to the camp, we’ll hold them off,” as they passed, but she didn’t see any people in that bunch.

The line of trees loomed ahead in the darkness. Sebastian suddenly jerked in the saddle and nearly lost his grip on Lucy. She grabbed the saddle with one hand and caught his arm with the other. He didn’t seem to be in danger of falling, since like a good rider, he was holding on with his knees, but she didn’t want to take any chances. “Are you hurt?” she asked as she hung on for dear life.

“I’m fine,” he said, but his voice sounded tight and a little breathless.

The sound of pursuit was farther behind as they passed the first trees, and the horse slowed gradually to a walk. It was hard to run full-speed in deep woods like these, and they weren’t on any established road or path. Lucy figured the horse was pretty tired, too.

“This way, sir,” a voice from way down below on the forest floor said. In the darkness, she couldn’t see who or what it was, but Sebastian trusted it and followed.

Now she was fairly certain that something was wrong because Sebastian’s breathing was ragged. “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked.

“It’s nothing,” he said, but she could hear the pain in his voice.

It occurred to her that he’d been hurt for her sake. He’d put himself on the line for her. She supposed that was as good a way as any to prove she could trust him. To be more precise, he’d put himself on the line for the princess, for Aurora—for Dawn, who’d thought she was only playing royalty on the stage.

That brought up the question of what she should tell him. What would he and these Loyalists of his do if they discovered Lucy wasn’t the princess? Would they just ditch her, or would they help her find her way back home? Meanwhile, there was the witch, who was convinced Lucy was Aurora. She wasn’t going to stop looking for the girl she thought was the princess, and Lucy would need protection. Normally, Lucy was totally anti-lying, but these seemed like special circumstances.

The horse had to fight its way through an area of thicker underbrush, with vines hanging from the tree branches above. At least one little branch caught Lucy in the face. She’d have had a nice welt if the cloak hood hadn’t absorbed the worst of it. Finally, they reached a clearing and stopped. “Here we are, sir,” that same chipper voice said from below.

“Thank you, Cotton,” Sebastian said. Lucy still couldn’t see who he was talking to. He dismounted, and she quickly slid out of the saddle on her own so he wouldn’t have to help her. When he staggered and caught himself on the bridle, Lucy knew she was right. He was hurt.

It would have helped if there was more light, but it was fully night now, and all they had was whatever moonlight filtered through the trees. She got the mini flashlight out of her backpack and shone it on Sebastian, illuminating the arrow sticking out of the back of his shoulder. “We’ve got to get you to a doctor,” she said.

“We’ll tend to it momentarily,” he replied. “But first, I must see to the horse.” He raised his voice. “Is there water?”

That same voice said from somewhere around Lucy’s feet, “There’s a stream nearby, sir.” She looked down and saw a fluffy little cottontail bunny.

“I’ll deal with the horse,” Lucy said. “You, sit.”

Apparently, it was impossible for him to disobey a direct order from royalty. “Yes, your highness,” he said wearily, and not at all sarcastically, as he sat at the base of a tree. I guess it’s good to be the princess, Lucy thought.

“I’ll go with her,” another voice said, and she saw a fox walking beside her. She wasn’t sure what good it would do if the bad guys attacked, but at least it should be able to bite them in the ankle, she figured.

She led the horse over to where she heard rushing water and let it drink while she tried to rub it down as best she could with the cloak wrapped around her hand. That was what she remembered having to do when she helped her granddad with his horses. As she watched the horse drink, she realized she hadn’t had anything to drink since lunchtime, and that was hours ago.

Making sure she was upstream from where the horse was drinking so she wouldn’t get horse spit in her water, she knelt beside the stream and scooped some up in her hand, but then realized it was probably full of worse than horse spit. This would be a really bad time and place to get a case of Montezuma’s Revenge, so she let the water fall back into the stream and hoped Sebastian had brought provisions. Then again, any provisions he’d brought probably were scooped out of streams just like this one. She hoped they didn’t have amebas in storybook worlds.

When she brought the horse back to the clearing, Sebastian had made a small fire. She switched off her flashlight and stuck it in the front pocket of her jeans. He was struggling to remove his surcoat, but was hampered by the arrow.

“Let me help you with that,” she said. She removed the horse’s halter and left it to graze on whatever it could find on the forest floor, then went to help Sebastian. Under the surcoat, he wore a heavy leather vest, which must have offered some protection, but the arrow had hit his shoulder just where the vest ended. His sleeve was dark with blood. It was a good thing Lucy wasn’t squeamish.

“Okay, I think we need to get the arrow out,” she said, trying to sound more sure than she felt. Her mom had taught her basic first aid, but she hadn’t covered arrow wounds. Lucy bet it was like any puncture wound. This one didn’t look deep enough that he’d bleed to death if she removed the arrow, and besides, emergency rooms were probably pretty rare in this place, so leaving it in wasn’t an option.

She took the Swiss Army knife Jeremy had given her for Christmas last year our of her backpack’s inner pocket, opened it, and ran the blade through a flame a few times. She opened the scissors tool and cut Sebastian’s shirt around the arrow so she could see the wound itself. It would have helped if some of these talking critters had opposable thumbs and could hold a flashlight so she could see what she was doing. Or maybe they could help. Squirrels could hold nuts, right?

“I don’t suppose any of your friends could hold my light,” she said.

“Chatters!” Cotton called, and there was a skittering sound from above.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! I can help! I can help!” It was a squirrel, eagerly rubbing its paws together.

Feeling like she was trapped in a surreal nightmare, Lucy switched on the flashlight and handed it to the squirrel. “Hold it so the light shines on his wound, okay?”

“I’m happy to serve, highness. It’s a great honor!”

“And I appreciate it,” she said before the squirrel could go on. She’d always figured those things would be real chatterboxes if they could talk. She turned back to Sebastian. “I imagine this is going to hurt like crazy.”

“It will. It always does. But I know I can bear the pain.”

She had to fight very hard not to roll her eyes. He sounded just like Jeremy, playing macho when it was something potentially serious, and if he was anything like Jeremy, he’d take to his bed and expect to be waited on hand and foot at the first sign of the sniffles.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” she said. She took a deep breath to steady herself and tried to forget that she was about to cut into human flesh, then slipped the knife in next to the arrow, trying to loosen it so it wouldn’t do so much damage when she pulled it out. Sebastian hissed between clenched teeth but managed to stay perfectly still. “Now I’m going to pull it out, so brace yourself. On three—one, two.” On two, she grabbed the arrow and gave it a sharp pull. He started a yelp but bit it off. She checked the arrow, and sure enough, it looked like the head was all there.

“I thought you said on three,” he said, his voice shaking.

“I figured it would be easier on you if you weren’t expecting it. You’d tense up on three, and that would have made things even worse.”

He gazed up at her with something that looked like wonder, even through the tension of pain on his face. “The place where you’ve been must be truly terrible if you’ve gained so much knowledge about treating arrow wounds, your highness.”

“Are you kidding? This was my very first. But my friend Jeremy used to get bad splinters climbing over the fence between our back yards, so I got a lot of practice pulling those out. This was just on a larger scale.” Thinking of Jeremy again gave her a pang. Would she ever see him again? Surely he’d know by now she was missing, since she’d missed her own birthday party, and he hadn’t had the chance to give her that surprise he’d promised.

But for the time being, she had another guy to deal with. The wound wasn’t bleeding as badly as she’d feared it might, so she didn’t think he’d pass out or go into shock, but infection was a distinct possibility, and she didn’t think he could get a penicillin shot to clear that up in this world. She did, however, have something in her backpack that might help. She opened the outer pocket and found the bottle of hand sanitizer that her germophobic nurse mother insisted she use before eating in the school cafeteria and after being anywhere near a school bathroom. She also had an emergency sewing kit since, thanks to her skill at sewing, she was the go-to girl in the class for ripped hems and loose buttons.

“This may sting a bit,” she warned Sebastian as she prepared to squirt the sanitizer on his wound. He braced himself and barely flinched. This was one tough guy, she thought. The macho bit may not have been posturing, after all. “And now let me see if I can sew this up for you. I’ve never sewn human flesh before. Well, not intentionally. I did have one minor hemming-related incident.” She was really impressed with the way he stayed totally still and let her work. By focusing on how strong and brave he was, and on how incredibly solid the muscle under the skin she was working on was, she managed not to throw up while sticking a needle repeatedly into his flesh.

“It’ll probably leave a scar,” she told him as she finished and covered the wound with one of the larger bandages from the first-aid kid her mother insisted she carry, “but it’s not bleeding too badly anymore.”

“Thank you, your highness. I am in your debt.”

“Um, hello? You got hurt rescuing me from that dungeon. I’m the one who owes you. Thank you for that, by the way.”

There was a rustle in the underbrush nearby, and Sebastian’s hand went straight for his sword. Lucy tried not to swoon at the idea of being with a man who carried a sword and knew how to use it. Then she remembered the squirrel holding the flashlight. If someone was coming, that light was high enough to be visible from a distance. She reached up and said, “Thanks, Chatters, you did great.”

The squirrel put the light back in her hand, and she quickly switched it off. She had no idea how long the battery would last, and she doubted they had Wal-Marts anywhere nearby where she could buy a replacement. “I did great! I did great!” the squirrel said excitedly, until Sebastian gave it a glare and it immediately scampered into a hole in the tree trunk.

Sebastian stood slowly, not making any noise, and moved in front of Lucy. The rustling grew louder and closer, and she tried not to whimper. What if they’d gone through all this, only to be caught again?

Continued in chapter five.

This is the third installment of a novel I’m serializing, posting chapters on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The first chapter is here, and the previous chapter is here. Feel free to spread the word to others who might enjoy it. For updates on when each chapter is posted, you can follow me on Twitter.

Chapter Three

            Dawn’s aunts spent her entire birthday cleaning the house top-to-bottom. She couldn’t think of why they’d made her stay home, since they wouldn’t let her help. They just had her sit nearby and sing for them while they worked. For perhaps the first time in her life, she was tired of singing and desperately wanted to do something else, even pick up a brush and help scrub, but they wouldn’t let her leave whichever room they were working on at the time.

“It will be sunset in a few hours,” Matilda said when they finished scrubbing the bathroom late in the day. She sounded awfully pleased about that.

“That means we’d better hurry and finish,” Mariel said.

“I could help,” Dawn offered.

“No, dear, you just sit and sing like a good girl,” Matilda said, patting her on the top of the head. “Your music makes the work go faster for us.”

“The timing of sunset does vary from place to place,” Miriam said. She picked up her bucket of cleaning tools and led the group through the living room to the kitchen. “Sunset here doesn’t mean anything.”

“Is something supposed to happen at sunset—here or somewhere else?” Dawn asked.

Mariel and Matilda turned to glare at Miriam, who flushed pink. “I only meant that we wanted to have the work done by sunset, but if we didn’t finish, we could console ourselves with the fact that it’s still daylight somewhere,” Miriam said.

Dawn laughed. “I’ll have to remember that the next time I want to stay up past my bedtime. It’s still earlier somewhere else.”

As she followed her aunts through the living room, Dawn glanced at the grandfather clock. It was nearly four, plenty of time after school let out for Lucy to have made it downtown to the theater to check the audition results. Why hadn’t she called yet?

The thought crossed her mind that the aunts might have forgotten to pay the phone bill. She said she needed a bathroom break and stopped by the phone niche in the hallway to check for a dial tone. The phone was still working. Then it occurred to her that it was Lucy’s birthday, too, and her mother was having a big party that night. Lucy was probably busy, and it had been selfish of Dawn to ask her to run an errand for her. She’d find out soon enough if she got the part.

When they finished cleaning, the aunts sent Dawn off to her room to change for dinner. “Your best dress, mind you,” Matilda said. “This is a special occasion. And brush your hair.” Dawn put a record on and hummed softly along with it while she changed into a lacy white dress and put a bow in her hair.

She came back to the living room to find Matilda peering through the curtains into the back yard. “I think the sun has set!” she called out.

Mariel went to the sideboard and poured a red liquid from a crystal decanter into three tiny stemmed glasses, then hesitated, glanced at Dawn, and poured a smaller amount of liquid into a fourth glass. She handed the glasses to the other aunts, then the one with the smallest amount to Dawn. “You are sixteen, after all,” she said with a rare smile. “You might as well get your first taste.”

“Like I told you earlier, the sun sets at different times in different places,” Miriam muttered. “The days may not even line up properly.”

Mariel ignored her and raised her glass. Matilda immediately followed suit, so enthusiastically that some of the liquid sloshed over the rim of her glass. Mariel glared at Miriam until she, too, raised her glass. “To our Dawn on her sixteenth birthday,” Mariel said. “And to the beginning of the rest of her life.” Miriam downed her drink in one gulp, her eyes still narrowed into a frown, while Matilda sipped daintily at hers, her pinky extended. “Go on, drink up,” Mariel encouraged Dawn. Dawn took a sip, then had to gasp for breath. It tasted like a combination of cherries and gasoline. Surely this couldn’t be what the popular kids drank on weekends for fun. Mariel patted her on the back while she sputtered and coughed.

“And now for dinner,” Matilda said, ushering them all to the table.

For once, they didn’t nag at Dawn throughout the meal. Dawn wasn’t sure if that was because it was her birthday or because she was doing everything right. When they’d almost finished dinner, the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Dawn shouted as she jumped out of her chair, nearly tipping it over, and ran to the phone.

However, it wasn’t Lucy telling her she’d be playing Guinevere. It was Jeremy. “Have you talked to Lucy today?” he asked.

“No. She was supposed to call me with the audition results after school, but I haven’t heard from her. Why? Aren’t you supposed to be at her party now?”

“She’s missing.”

“Missing?” she yelped. “What do you mean?”

“I mean no one’s seen her since the end of school. She signed up to take the driving test but didn’t show up, and she hasn’t come home.”

Dawn tried to think of a bright side, some wonderful thing that might have caused Lucy to miss her own birthday party, but nothing came to her. “And here I was, getting mad at her because she didn’t call me with the audition results,” she said, her voice cracking as tears stung her eyes.

“You haven’t talked to her at all today, and she didn’t say anything to you about anywhere she might have gone after school?”

She shook her head before remembering that he couldn’t see that over the phone. “No.” It came out as a sob. “Nothing other than checking the cast list. Maybe I should have called you or her mother earlier, when I didn’t hear from her. You could have started looking sooner.”

The aunts came in from the dining room. Their concerned faces said they’d overheard the conversation. Matilda put an arm around Dawn’s shoulders while Mariel took the phone away from her. “This is Dawn’s Aunt Mariel,” she said into the phone, enunciating very distinctly, as though she was afraid she wouldn’t be understood on the other end. “What has happened?” She frowned as she listened, then said, “I see. That is terrible. Please keep us informed.” She hung up and faced Dawn. “This friend who’s missing, that’s the one who’s wearing your necklace?” she asked, an odd look of fear—and was it relief?—on her face. The other two aunts wore similar expressions. All three of them exchanged glances before their faces went totally blank.

“Yes, it’s Lucy,” Dawn said with a sniffle.

Matilda handed her a lace-edged handkerchief and said, “Let’s go have our dessert.” She guided Dawn back to the dining table and nudged her into her seat, then said to the other aunts, “I’ll need some help putting on the finishing touches.” The three aunts went into the kitchen. Dawn noticed that they hadn’t cleared the table, so she carefully stacked the plates, arranged the silverware on top, and headed for the kitchen.

As she approached the door, she heard Matilda ask, “Do you really think it’s all over?”

Dawn knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she lingered near the door to listen rather than going into the kitchen.

“We haven’t had the signal yet,” Miriam said.

“We wait for the signal,” Mariel confirmed, “but yes, I do believe it may be over, and we were fortunate. The necklace may have some protective properties, but it also served as a form of identification.” She laughed a nervous, shaky laugh. “And to think, those sixteen years of careful hiding and planning might have come to nothing if it hadn’t been for the careless whim of a teenage girl.”

“A generous whim,” Matilda put in.

“Generous, yes, but it may have saved us from disaster. We were very fortunate,” Mariel said. “We never imagined they would find us here, so we were entirely unprepared. If she hadn’t given the necklace, we might have lost her, and now she should be safe because they won’t be looking for her anymore.”

Dawn shook her head in confusion. From the way they talked, she assumed they were referring to the necklace she’d given to Lucy. But sixteen years of hiding? First Lucy disappeared, and now her aunts were talking nonsense. Dawn didn’t know what to think. She bit her lip to fight back a whimper and edged closer to the door so she could hear better.

“What will become of the other girl, though?” Matilda asked.

“That is not our concern,” Mariel said firmly. “Dawn is safe now. That is what is important.”

“It should concern us,” Matilda insisted. She seldom argued with Mariel, but when she did, she stood her ground. “She’s an innocent.”

“They’ll realize soon enough they have the wrong girl,” Miriam said. “I doubt they’ll keep her, then.” But she didn’t sound like she believed it. “At any rate, there’s little we can do about it. We don’t dare take her back without the signal. It would be too dangerous. We’ve been gone nearly sixteen years, and we have no idea what the situation might be. For all we know, Melantha managed to take over even without killing the princess.”

“Still, we should prepare the portal. The signal may come at any time,” Mariel said. “We must be ready to go.”

“And we’ve been in here long enough,” Miriam said. “Hurry and light these candles.”

Dawn rushed back to her seat and tried to look as innocent and as untroubled as she could be with her best friend missing. It was the biggest acting challenge she’d ever faced, keeping her expression from showing the way her brain was spinning.

The aunts returned to the dining room, Mariel carrying a pink-frosted birthday cake covered with candles. They weren’t actually birthday candles but instead were a mix of household candles in various shapes, colors, and sizes. Behind Mariel, Miriam carried a stack of bowls and Matilda held a half gallon of ice cream. In spite of her concerns, Dawn was touched that they’d made the effort. “Oh, this is lovely! Thank you!” she said, not having to fake her gratitude. Still, she couldn’t help but flinch a little when Matilda put a hand on her shoulder as she bent to blow out the candles, and she noticed every single look the aunts exchanged among themselves.

***

            Lucy gave up struggling against her captor soon after they passed through that magical doorway. If she was truly in another world, freeing herself in the middle of nowhere wouldn’t do her a lot of good, and getting free of the guy holding on to her while she was on top of a huge horse running at a decent rate of speed probably wasn’t the smartest idea. She kept herself still, sending off all the body language signals that she’d given up.

Soon, the man holding her did relax his grasp a little, and he took his hand away from her mouth. She had a feeling she could scream her head off and it wouldn’t do her much good, since they were in the middle of a heavy forest. Even if there were people around, for all she knew, they’d be cheering on the guys in black instead of helping her.

“Who are you and where are you taking me?” she asked the guy holding her, then cringed when she realized she sounded like something out of a bad movie. Then again, those were pretty obvious questions, under the circumstances. He didn’t answer or even show any sign that he’d heard her. He’d spoken English—or, at least, she’d heard it as English—when he’d seen her, just before he grabbed her, so she knew he should have understood her. She suspected he had orders not to talk to the prisoner. “Okay, be that way,” she muttered as she rolled her eyes.

After what seemed like an hour of riding, they emerged from the forest and approached a village. The houses were half-timbered and had thatched roofs, and they were clustered together along a narrow, winding road. The men of the village wore loose, belted tunics over leggings and the women wore dresses that were pretty much long versions of the men’s tunics. The rough fabrics, simple design, and worn condition of the clothing told Lucy these must be peasants—that was, if this world was anything like what she knew of earth. She might not pay attention in history class, but she did know her clothing history. In spite of her danger, she couldn’t help but wish she could get a closer look at the fabrics because that might help her design Camelot costumes. Assuming she ever made it home. The town musical was the least of her worries right now.

The people stopped working as the riders came into town, and they hurried to move off the road, which was smart, as the riders didn’t so much as slow down. They didn’t seem to have any qualms about trampling anything in their path. In fact, Lucy was pretty sure they ran over at least one chicken, but she closed her eyes at the last second and didn’t see whether the bird got out of the way in time.

They’d nearly made it through the village when a woman looked up at Lucy, blinked in shock, gasped, and cried out, “They found her!”

Her cry alerted the rest of the villagers, who rushed toward the horsemen, waving hoes and pitchforks. Lucy wasn’t sure what was going on, but if they were trying to rescue her, she was totally in favor of that. She struggled in earnest, hoping that if her captor had to work to hold on to her, he wouldn’t be able to fight. Unfortunately, the other two riders didn’t have anything stopping them, and they pulled their swords and circled back while Lucy’s rider kept going. She couldn’t see what happened, but she heard a roar from the crowd, followed by screams, gasps, and thuds. The screams went on far too long, like either the peasants kept fighting even though they didn’t stand a chance, or the soldiers didn’t want to leave anyone behind. Lucy sagged against her captor in defeat, fighting back tears. Soon, the other two riders rejoined them, and they kept going. Now she knew for a fact that these men were the bad guys and that she did not want to be with them.

The trees thinned as the horses pounded down the road into a river valley. On a hillside across the river loomed a massive castle with a city huddled below it on the slope down to the river. This wasn’t a fairy princess castle, with graceful, gleaming spires. It was a castle that meant business, with thick stone walls and sturdy towers at each corner. It looked to Lucy like the kind of castle that would have a dungeon, and probably even a torture chamber. Suddenly the idea of a castle was much less romantic to her.

They clattered across the bridge and made their way to the castle through crowded, narrow streets. The people on the streets shrank away from the riders. Parents put themselves between the riders and their children. One woman held out a beseeching hand toward Lucy as tears ran down her face. An older man fell to his knees when he saw Lucy. Everywhere she looked, Lucy saw faces without hope, some of them with utter despair.

But what did that have to do with her? Was her being here such a bad thing for these people? She knew she didn’t mean them any harm. Or was it more to do with what awaited her, and they felt sorry for her? No, she decided as she looked into yet another set of despairing eyes, they were worried about what would happen to them. No one got that upset over the fate of a stranger, no matter how nasty that fate might be.

The city seemed to be in the middle of some kind of festival. There were brightly colored banners hanging everywhere, along with floral garlands strung across the street, from rooftop to rooftop. It was even more extreme than Lucy’s hometown’s Christmas decorations, only with less tinsel and no electric lights. If she’d noticed the decorations first, she’d have expected the people to look happy instead of like the world was coming to an end.

Their group rode into the castle courtyard, where a guard yanked Lucy off the horse. He dragged her into the castle, then down one flight of stairs after another. She struggled to keep up with him, often stumbling. She tried to remember each twist and turn so she could find her way out if she got the chance, but she was afraid she was hopelessly lost.

At the end of the final flight of stairs, they arrived in the dungeon—a narrow, torchlit corridor with barred doors set into the walls. The guard took a ring of keys off his belt, unlocked a door, and threw her into a cell, locking the door behind her. She landed on moldy straw that stank, so she jumped back to her feet. The only light in the room came from a tiny barred window set high in one of the walls and from a torch in the hallway outside the barred door. The cell’s stone walls were covered in slimy moss. There were brackets on the wall with chains hanging from them, and she was glad they hadn’t used them on her.

So, she was in a dungeon in another world on her birthday. She was missing her driving test, her own party, and whatever surprise Jeremy had for her. Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to fight them back. She could practically hear her mother’s voice telling her to pull herself together and think about what she could do. The thought of her mother made the tears worse. By now, her mother would surely be wondering where she was—or else she’d think Lucy was pouting about her mom not agreeing to take her to get her driver’s license. She’d just assume Lucy was being childish and dramatic and trying to get attention.

Alone and scared, Lucy couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. Armed men didn’t grab girls and haul them away to a dungeon because someone wanted to invite them for tea. She wanted out of there, and she wanted to go home.

“Ah, there you are,” a voice from behind her said, and she spun to see who it was.

There wasn’t anyone there, not that she could see. She got a mini flashlight out of her school backpack and pointed it at all the corners of the cell. The only living thing anywhere near the cell, besides herself, was the little black bird that had slipped between the bars in that window high in the cell wall. “Hello? Who’s there?” she called out. She hoped whoever it was hadn’t seen her crying.

“It’s just me,” the voice said from the window. It looked like the bird was talking. “I heard they finally caught you, so I came to the dungeon to check it out for myself.”

This was impossible. Birds didn’t talk. “You’re talking?” Lucy asked, just to be sure.

“Of course I’m talking. Do you see anyone else? Now, did they hurt you, highness? ’Cause if they did, I’ll have to do something about that.”

She shook her head. “No, they didn’t hurt me.”

“Good. Now, you sit tight. I’m going for help. We’ve got someone on the inside. And don’t touch any spindles.”

He flew away, leaving her with unanswered questions. Like how birds could talk, who “we” was, what a spindle had to do with anything, and what, in general, the hell was going on here.

And, wait a second, did he call her highness? She ran to the window to call after the bird, but then there was yet another voice behind her, coming from the door. “Don’t try it, there’s no escape,” the gruff voice said. She turned around cautiously, wondering what she might see. A talking guard dog, maybe?

But it was just a guard, a human guard. He unlocked the cell door and said, “Come with us. She wants to see you now.”

***

            That night, Dawn was too agitated to sleep. She paced her bedroom, trying to process everything that had happened that day. She knew she was missing information and couldn’t judge from what she’d heard of the aunts’ conversation, but it didn’t sound good. They’d been kind enough to her, but if they were willing to let something bad happen to Lucy, that couldn’t be good, could it? And it sounded like they knew what was going on, but they hadn’t shared any of that with her. Why not? She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

There was a noise from the back yard, and she went to the window to peer out from behind the curtain. The aunts had the doors to the garden shed open and were doing something inside. She heard them through the open window, but what they said didn’t make much sense. Their voices stopped as they backed away from the shed, then there was a flash of light through the shed’s windows and open doorway.

Dawn gasped in surprise and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “There, that should do it,” Mariel said, brushing her hands on her black skirt. “We just step through the portal as soon as the signal comes, and we’ll be home.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Dawn?” Matilda asked. “This will be a very big change for her. She needs time to get adjusted.” Dawn clutched the windowsill to keep herself from falling as her legs went wobbly. She felt like someone had pulled the ground out from under her, leaving her nothing solid to stand on.

“She can get adjusted once she’s there,” Miriam said. “We don’t want to take any chances. She might not want to go, and we can’t take that risk.”

Now Dawn understood why they’d kept her home from school. It wasn’t just that day, it was for good. They were planning to leave. They were going to take her away.

“And what about the other girl?” Matilda asked.

“There’s little question of where she is,” Mariel said. “But perhaps I should go through to let the sisters know so they can intervene, if necessary.”

“Excellent idea,” Matilda said. “I’d feel so much better if we did something to help that poor girl.” Dawn felt a warm glow in her heart for her aunt’s kindness. Matilda always had been the one most like a mother to her.

“Very well, then, I shall go,” Mariel said. She walked into the shed, and the other two closed the door after her. Even after several minutes passed, Mariel didn’t come out of the shed.

Dawn sank down against the wall until she sat on the floor. She was dizzy, but she wasn’t sure if that was because of what she’d just heard and seen or because she’d been holding her breath for so long. The back door opened and closed, and Dawn flung herself across the room into the bed in case they looked in on her. Sure enough, soon her bedroom door opened, and she had to will her body to relax and her breathing to slow and become more even so she’d appear to be asleep instead of agitated. She gave herself half an hour after her bedroom door shut and another door elsewhere in the house opened and shut, then she slid out of bed.

She had to know what was in the shed. It was a compulsion that grew stronger every second—so strong that she nearly forgot to put on shoes before sneaking out of her room to go outside. The shed wasn’t locked, just closed with a latch. She unfastened the latch and eased the door open slowly, hoping it didn’t creak.

Inside the shed was a moonlit garden. She blinked and shook her head. That couldn’t be right. When she looked again, she saw that there was a faintly glowing arch in the shed, through which she saw the garden. Before she realized what she was doing, she took a step toward the arch, then caught herself. More than anything she’d ever wanted in her life—more even than a leading role in Camelot—she wanted to go through that portal. Though she kept her feet planted, her upper body swayed toward it.

On the other side of that glowing arch were the answers to all the questions she’d never thought to ask, like who she was, who her parents were, and where she came from. Based on what her aunts had said, she came from the world of that garden. That’s if they really were her aunts. Now she couldn’t even be sure of that much. Lucy had been taken because she was wearing Dawn’s necklace, because somebody thought she was Dawn, and that meant Dawn could learn who she was by finding Lucy.

Dawn took another step toward the glowing arch, then shook her head to clear it, backed away, and shut the shed door. She wouldn’t get far with nothing but a nightgown, and she wouldn’t get far on her own. She needed to find someone she could trust to help her, and with Lucy gone, that left one person.

Continued in chapter four.

Here’s the second chapter of the serial novel. If you missed chapter one, you can find it here. If you’re enjoying this, please share the links so others can find it.

Chapter Two

            Dawn’s Aunt Mariel met her at the front door before she had a chance to use her key or knock. “It’s late,” Mariel snapped. “Where were you?”

“I had the audition for Camelot this afternoon. Remember, I told you? And it went really, really well!”

“But you’re just now getting home?”

“I stopped by the drugstore afterward to tell Lucy how it went.” Dawn swept past her aunt into the entryway. “And I didn’t want to walk home alone. It wasn’t long until Lucy got off work, and then we could go home together.”

Mariel slammed the door shut and followed Dawn into the living room, asking, “Then what were you doing in the car with that boy?”

“That was just Jeremy giving us a ride home. You’ve met him. Remember? We’ve been friends since we were eleven. Lucy was in the back seat.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss Mariel on the cheek. “You’re so sweet to worry about me.”

The other two aunts came out of the kitchen to join the conversation. Aunt Miriam was shorter and softer than Mariel but was still very stern when she asked “So, nothing’s going on with you and this boy?”

Dawn laughed. “With Jeremy? We’re just friends. Besides, Lucy likes him.”

The three aunts exchanged meaningful looks. “You’ve never done anything like kiss a boy?” Aunt Matilda asked with a teasing smile as she tucked a stray gray curl behind her ear.

“Should I have kissed someone by now? I’m sure I could find a boyfriend if you think I should.”

“No!” Mariel snapped, then said more gently, “It’s not necessary. Everything in its time.”

“We were simply curious,” Matilda added.

Dawn sighed in relief. “Oh, okay. Because I don’t really have time for a boyfriend with play rehearsals and choir and all, and the boys in the drama club don’t seem too interested in having girlfriends.”

Miriam winced and glanced at the others. “Is acting a suitable profession for you?” She sounded almost nervous as she asked the question. “I know you enjoy doing the school plays, but you don’t want to make a career out of it.”

“Of course I do! There’s nothing I want more. All I want to do is go to New York and be a star on Broadway.” With a big grin, she launched into “New York, New York,” linking her elbows with Miriam and Matilda and doing a few kick steps.

Matilda tried to get in step with her, but faltered when Mariel said firmly, “We’ll worry about long-term plans when the time comes. In the meantime, it is time for dinner. Please go wash and change clothes.”

Dawn kept singing as she went down the hall, coming to the big finish as she entered her bedroom. As far as she knew, she was the only kid in school who was expected to dress for dinner, but her aunts were terribly old-fashioned that way. She didn’t mind humoring them, since they’d been so kind to her, bringing her up after her parents had died when she was a baby. She put on a simple black dress that was very much like what her aunts always wore, only without the stiff white collars that made them look like the Puritans in history books, then brushed her hair and tied it back with a faded black ribbon.

As she came out of her room and went down the hall to the living room, she heard the aunts talking. They sounded like they were trying to talk in whispers, only they kept raising the volume to talk over each other. Dawn stood quietly in the hallway so she wouldn’t interrupt their conversation.

“I hate for her to get her hopes up like that,” Matilda said. “What do we do?”

“Time itself will take care of it all,” Mariel said. “We won’t need to do or say anything until the time comes.”

“It will be quite a shock for her, though,” Miriam said.

There was a loud shushing sound, then Mariel whispered, “She should be coming back at any time.”

Dawn tiptoed back to her room, then walked normally down the hallway, singing to herself so they’d hear her coming.

“There you are,” Mariel said when she entered the dining room. “I don’t know how it can take you so long just to change clothes.”

“But you do look nice, dear,” Matilda added, adjusting the ribbon in Dawn’s hair.

Mariel clapped her hands for attention. “Enough talking. It’s time for dinner before it gets cold.”

The four of them gathered around the dining table, which was set with mismatched, chipped china. They followed all the formal etiquette rules as they passed dishes around the table to serve themselves. “No, dear, that’s not how you do it,” Miriam said as Dawn scooped mashed potatoes from a serving dish onto her plate.

“Sit up straight,” Mariel ordered before Dawn could take a bite of food. As soon as she took a bite, Matilda chimed in to tell her to take smaller bites. I’ll be grateful someday when I’m a big star invited to dine with royalty, Dawn told herself.

Mariel opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped and frowned. “Where is your necklace, young lady?”

Dawn touched the base of her throat, only then remembering that she’d given the necklace to Lucy. She was so used to wearing it that she could still feel it hanging around her neck. “I let Lucy wear it.” All three aunts glared at her, so she hurried to explain. “She gave me this bracelet as a birthday gift.” She held up her wrist and shook it. “See, you can add charms. I can get one for each show I do. But I didn’t have anything for her, so I let her wear my necklace, just for her birthday. She has to do an oral report for history class, and I thought she could use a good-luck charm since I won’t be there to cheer her on.”

“How could you—” Mariel began, but Miriam put a hand on her arm.

“I think it’s a lovely gesture,” Miriam said. “It was very sweet of you to let your friend wear your necklace on her birthday.”

Mariel’s eyes went from squinting in a frown to wide with realization, like she was only then figuring something out. A second later, Matilda gasped, then smiled and breathed, “Oooooh.”

“Yes, that was a nice gesture,” Mariel said. “After all, you won’t be seeing anyone tomorrow, and she’ll be out and about, so it’s a good time for her to be wearing that necklace.”

Matilda bounced up from the table. “Dessert time!” She collected their empty plates and disappeared into the kitchen. Dawn let herself sigh with relief that she wasn’t in trouble for giving Lucy the necklace. Moments later, there was a crash and the sound of breaking china. “Mariel!” Matilda cried out from the kitchen.

Mariel jumped up from the table, but Miriam stayed and caught Dawn’s wrist in a tight grasp before Dawn could go help. “I’m sure they can handle it,” she said.

Soon, Matilda came back to the dining room, carrying a tray with a pie and dessert plates. Mariel came behind her, then went around the dining room and living room, shutting the windows, blinds, and drapes. While she did that, Matilda served the pie as though nothing had happened, but Dawn noticed that her face was nearly as pale as her stiff white collar. When Mariel returned to the table, she, too, was unusually pale. The dish Matilda had broken must have been a favorite, Dawn thought.

The four of them ate their dessert in silence, the aunts all looking like they were listening for something. After a while, Dawn wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, or if she heard the sound of hoofbeats on the road outside.

***

            Lucy was having one of the worst birthdays ever. Her mom had left waffles and a gift for her, but it was depressing eating breakfast alone on her birthday. The gift turned out to be a new watch. It was nice enough, and Lucy had been under no illusion that she’d find a new car with a bow on the roof in the driveway, but a watch wasn’t exactly something she’d asked for or needed.

She’d thought she’d done a brilliant job on her history report, but the teacher had disagreed, insisting that a report on sumptuary laws in the Middle Ages didn’t prove that clothes were important to history, and therefore didn’t prove that there was a good reason to read Vogue in class. To top it off, she faced her driver’s test that afternoon, and she wasn’t sure her mother would let her get her license anytime soon, even if she passed. Her mom was still too paranoid about cars after the wreck that had killed Lucy’s dad.

The only bright spot of the day was Dawn’s necklace. It was a constant reminder that she had a sweet, generous best friend. Just having the necklace around her neck made her feel strong and powerful, almost invincible, and she carried that feeling with her as she went to the back parking lot, where the driver’s ed classes were held. Today would be the day she conquered parallel parking and passed the test, and then she’d go home to her birthday dinner and find out what surprise Jeremy had for her. Maybe he’d give her a locket or something heart-shaped to show they weren’t just friends.

Lucy was the first one to show up for driver’s ed, and the teacher hadn’t even arrived yet, so she went over to the nearby ag department animal enclosure to pet the sheep. They were spoiled rotten and rather friendly, but they probably thought she was going to feed them. “Sorry, guys, I don’t have any food,” she told them with a laugh as they competed to get close to her.

She glanced at her new birthday watch and realized that she still had ten minutes before the session started. That was almost enough time to run downtown and check the audition results so she could call Dawn as soon as she got home, but she didn’t want to take the chance of getting stuck to be the last one to drive. With any luck, as the first one there, she’d get dibs on the first turn at the wheel. Then she could take the test and get out of there instead of having to wait around and watch other people drive.

The sound of hoofbeats on the pavement made her look up. It sounded a lot like what she’d heard the night before, only louder and closer. A trio of men on horseback rode from the town to the back parking lot, toward the forest that started just beyond the football practice field. They were dressed all in black, with armor and helmets and swords at their sides, and they wore black cloaks that swirled around them. It looked like someone was taking the Camelot auditions way too seriously.

She thought the men would just ride by on their way to wherever it was they were going, but before they passed her, the leader came to an abrupt halt, raising his hand to signal the other two to stop. Then they all turned to face her. She almost felt like the leader had x-ray vision, from the way he studied her. She was sure he could see every detail of her appearance, and probably the state of her internal organs, as well.

“She is the one!” he shouted, and suddenly all three riders were coming right at her. Her instinct was to run, but she was trapped against the fence. The fence was too high for her to jump, so she could only run along it toward the metal shop. There were usually a few tough guys hanging out in there after school, and while they weren’t what she’d consider chivalrous, they also weren’t opposed to fighting. From what Lucy knew of their reputations, they were very likely armed.

In case they couldn’t resist a damsel in distress, she shouted, “Help! Someone! Please!” as she ran desperately toward the shop.

The shop door opened and a shaggy head stuck out. “Whoa, dude!” the guy said when he saw Lucy running toward him, three black knights at her heels.

“Help me! Do something!” Lucy shouted.

“Like what?”

“Like stop the freaky knights from getting me!”

He tilted his head to stare at the riders. “Whoa, so you mean they’re really there?”

It looked like she couldn’t count on the shop guys taking any initiative, so she made for the shop door, intending to throw herself inside and have the guys weld it shut, if she could make them understand that concept. Unfortunately, the horses were faster than she was, and the riders really knew what they were doing. They turned to ride alongside her, then the leader bent down, grabbed her arm, and pulled her up into the saddle with him. She tried to scream for the shop guys to call the police, but her captor got a hand over her mouth and pinned her against his chest with an arm that felt like a steel beam. The riders wheeled around and galloped into the forest.

They hadn’t been riding long when something loomed ahead of them. Lucy hadn’t explored this end of town much, but she was fairly certain that a giant, glowing gate wasn’t normally there. As they drew closer, Lucy could see that it wasn’t a physical gate. It was more like light in the shape of a gate, and what she saw through it didn’t at all match what was on either side of the opening. It was still a forest, but it was a different kind of forest, old growth hardwoods instead of the pines that surrounded the town. Wherever they were taking her, she had a strong feeling it wasn’t anywhere in Texas.

She held her breath as they neared the gate, and the tingle she felt when they passed through made her gasp. She craned her neck to see around her captor once they were out on the other side, but there was nothing behind them but forest.

She was stuck in another world, the prisoner of a trio of dark knights. This really was the worst birthday ever.

Continued in chapter three.