A Charm for a Unicorn

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A CHARM FOR A UNICORN By Jennifer Macaire

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A Calderwood Kids Publication www.calderwoodbooks.com A Charm For a Unicorn ISBN # 978-1-934614-00-6 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. A Charm For a Unicorn, Copyright © 2007 Jennifer Macaire Edited by Joy Calderwood Cover art by Jennifer Macaire Electronic book Publication: September 2007

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Calderwood Books, PMB 213, 4110 SE Hawthorne Blvd, Portland OR 97214 This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors' imagination and used fictitiously.

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Chapter One The Crystal Ball

A magician lived in Castle Veil, a large manor house with a pointy roof and two round windows on either side of the front door like wide, friendly eyes. A backdoor around the side led straight into the kitchen. Hardly anyone ever came to the front door, and grass grew between the stones on the front steps. If you could look into the windows, you would see large, sunny rooms with worn furniture that didn’t match, but was useful and comfortable. The dining room had a formal look to it, with a long, cherry wood table and delicate chairs. Every room had a fireplace, and lamps of frosted yellow glass cast a warm glow when darkness fell. The rugs were plain, the floors smooth and shiny, and the best room of all, the kitchen, was so big it took up almost half of the downstairs all by itself. The manor was usually quiet. Two sisters lived there with their father the magician, a cook, and a gardener. The sisters were called Leonie and Ann, the father was Sir Casper, the cook was

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Cook, and Bob was the gardener. Ann was studious and hardly ever shouted. Leonie was apt to burst into song, or laughter, and everything seemed brighter when she was around. A dusty road led from the castle out of the hollow. It went over hill and dale, through wide fields of clover and wheat, to the nearest village. There, the road got bigger and went on to more important places in the kingdom of Windtide. The magician walked swiftly down the road, his black robe flapping, his pointed hat bending backwards in the breeze. His shadow ran along the ground behind him, as if tagging along. Also behind him, in Castle Veil, a curtain twitched and a face peeked out the window. The autumn sun lit the face briefly, then the curtain shut and the face vanished. There was only one order Leonie ever disobeyed, and that was not to use the crystal ball. Leonie’s father never locked the door to his study, and Leonie always made sure he was well on his way to the village before running up the stairs two at a time and slipping inside the little room on the south side of the castle. The room was round, being in the turret, and it had a fireplace, a window seat, and a stuffed ocelot with marbles instead of eyes. It also had a crystal ball. Her father had forbidden her to use his crystal ball, but once in the study, Leonie sat in her father’s chair and lifted the black velvet cloth off the crystal.

She looked at the shiny ball, and willed an image to appear. A bright spark appeared and became a young man herding a flock of sheep with the help of a black and white dog. Urged by the dog and the shepherd’s staff, the sheep trotted down the road. The young man pursed his lips, and the dog leapt to his side. Affectionately, he reached down and scratched the dog’s ears. Leonie wished the crystal ball would show the young man close up, but the image remained distant. She could only make out his wide shoulders, long legs, and wavy hair that held the flames of autumn. As he reached down to pat the dog, a lamb broke loose from the group and

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darted into the forest. The young man didn’t notice, and continued his way toward the village. Leonie peered closer, hoping he’d turn back for the lamb and at the same time hoping to catch sight of the village. She’d never been there and she held her breath as the young man topped the rise. Frustration made her give an annoyed cry as the image in the crystal insisted on switching to the lamb springing through a deep bed of ferns. The crystal ball was funny like that; you never knew what it would show you. Her father could control it, but all she could do was turn it on and off. A noise startled Leonie, but when the door swung open she gave a sigh of relief. Her sister Ann poked her head in the room and said, “Father will turn you into a toad if he catches you with his crystal ball! It’s for his work only!” “You won’t tell, will you? I really don’t want to be a toad. So far, I’ve avoided the am-phibiyams.” Ann snorted. “Amphibians.” “Well, I almost got it right.” She sighed. “I wish I had your memory.” “I wish I had your looks.” Leonie got up, put the velvet cover back over the crystal ball, and hugged her sister. “You’re perfect the way you are.” “I hate my hair.” Ann tucked her fuzzy red braids behind her ears. “Anyway, I came to say that you’d better leave now, I caught sight of Father in the courtyard. He looks like a thunder storm about to burst, so I hope you’ve memorized your Latin.” A shiver ran down Leonie’s spine. “He’s back already? I thought I’d have the afternoon to study! Can you help me?”

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Ann scowled. “You have to study more. If you’d only try you’d do just fine. But you daydream and your mind wanders and…” “I know, I know.” Leonie interrupted, looking out the window in a panic. “Last week I spent three days as a squirrel because I forgot my erratic verbs.” “Irregular verbs, you ninny, not erratic.” Ann sighed. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen. That way Cook is bound to ask you to go on some errand and you’ll be able to get out of the castle. Take the Latin textbook with you, and go study in the forest.” “What about Cook’s errand?” “Would you rather be scolded by the cook or turned into an amphibian by father?” Ann had a point. Leonie grabbed her Latin book from the table and ran down the back staircase to the kitchen. Vast and warm, with a well-worn flagstone floor and a fire crackling cheerfully in the hearth, the kitchen seemed the perfect refuge. The table in the center of the room always had a basket of fresh apples or a plate of warm biscuits on it. Leonie and Ann spent countless hours on the long bench in front of the table helping Cook peeling potatoes, snapping beans, kneading bread, or just sitting with their chins in their hands watching Cook as she bustled about. Cook had been in the kitchen for as long as Leonie could remember. According to Ann, Cook had once been a goat before their father had transformed her. How did Ann know these things, or did she make them up? Leonie would have to ask her one day. But she would never dare ask Cook outright if she’d once been a goat. Ann had probably just been teasing her, Leonie decided. That would be typical of Ann. When Cook caught sight of Leonie, she pointed to an empty basket and said, “I need some apples.”

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“If you see Father, tell him you’ve sent me on an errand,” said Leonie. She picked up the basket and, with a last look at the cozy room, left. She took care to keep close to the hedge, in case she saw her father. To her relief, she made it through the back garden without seeing either her father or Old Bob, the gardener. She should go to the orchard, quickly fill her basket, then sit and study her Latin. But the forest beckoned and, after a furtive look around, she ducked under the split rail fence, ran across the meadow, and stepped into the woods. # Ann shook her head. Leonie would certainly spend the next few days transformed into some creature. Their father didn’t believe in laziness, and he despised ignorance and disobedience as well. But Leonie wasn’t any of those things… she simply didn’t have a logical mind. Ann felt a pang of pity for her sister, but she quelled it. Leonie might be hopeless in studies but her beauty made everyone around her look plain as mud. Next to Leonie, Ann always felt clumsy, awkward and ugly. Leonie moved with grace and swiftness, and when she danced even the trees stopped rustling their leaves and birds swooped down to watch. Her pale hair fell in shining waves to her hips, and it never got greasy or tangled. Her skin looked as soft as rose petals, and her eyes had the sparkle of stars reflected in rainwater. Ann sighed heavily, went to the crystal ball and lifted a corner of the cover. She peered into it, but the ball remained transparent, reflecting only her freckled face, upside-down and deformed by the globe. Ann stuck her tongue out at it, and in the reflection the ugly girl with red hair as bright as marigolds stuck her tongue out too. How could Leonie make the crystal show her things? That too bothered Ann. Leonie never studied, and she couldn’t tell the difference between a potion and an elixir, but she had a knack for magic and could do things without even thinking.

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“Huh, she does everything without thinking,” muttered Ann, flicking her fingernail against the crystal ball. Then she put the velvet cover back over it and went to sit in the window seat. Father would be here soon and she hoped to impress him with her recitation of the Latin irregular verbs, so useful in casting spells and working out medicinal formulas. From her perch in the casement window she caught sight of her sister leaving the castle by the back door, a wicker basket over her arm. Sunlight sparkled on Leonie’s hair, and as usual two or three birds swooped down and fluttered around her, chirping happily. Leonie had been transformed into a sparrow one day, and had managed to elude the hawk living in the belfry as well as the mangy cats in the stable. She’d made friends with some birds, and unexpectedly, they seemed to remember her when she’d been changed back. “That’s normal, she’s a bird-brain,” said Ann softly, leaning her forehead against the windowpane. Leonie disappeared into the forest and Ann felt a sudden twinge of disquiet. She frowned, then heard her father’s footsteps in the hallway. Turning, she put a bright smile on her face. “Hello, Father,” she said as he opened the heavy door. Her father, the magician, stared at her with pale eyes that might have reminded her of Leonie’s eyes if they’d had the slightest sparkle or warmth, but he looked made of winter, with wispy, frost-white hair and a gaze like ice. “I hope you’re ready for your lesson.” He peered at her as if he could see right into her brain, and even his voice sounded wintry. “Yes, Father.” Ann clasped her hands behind her back, cleared her throat, and recited her lesson. Afterward her father gave her some other pages to read and he sat down at his desk and began to write letters with a goose-quill pen. Ann settled back in her window seat and read a bit. The steady scratching sound of the quill made Ann drowsy, but she didn’t close her eyes and give in to her urge for a nap. Her father

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glanced at the water clock a couple times, and finally asked in a paper-dry voice, where Leonie had gone. “I don’t know sir,” said Ann truthfully. “She took her Latin book, so she must have gone somewhere to study.” “She better be back in time for her lesson, or she’ll find out what it’s like to be a sheep,” her father said. Ann made a face. She’d never been transformed into anything. The only time her father had lost his temper at her had been when she’d asked him if she and Leonie had been transformed, like Cook and Old Bob. She’d asked, in all innocence, what creature she’d been before she’d become his daughter. “If your mother heard you say that, she’d turn in her grave,” he sputtered, and had stomped from the room. That had been the only time he’d mentioned her mother, and Ann had never asked again. Just as she’d never insisted on going with her father when he left the castle and went to the village and other places. The two girls never left the castle grounds except to go a little ways into the forest, and even then they knew better than to cross the stream. Their world comprised the castle, the gardens, the orchards and the woods in front of the stream. Ann had never felt the slightest wish to go anywhere, but Leonie often begged her father to let her accompany him to the village, to which her father had always replied an emphatic ‘No’. Ann watched as the water clock turned silently on its axis and hoped that Leonie would hurry up and learn her verbs. The shadows grew long and the scent of baking bread for dinner rising from the kitchens tickled her nose and made her anxious for her sister. # Leonie ducked under the sweeping branches of a charm tree and sighed as the shade cooled her head. She would find a comfortable spot to sit and read, and with luck, she’d be able to

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memorize enough Latin to please her father. She’d just spotted a mossy rock when she heard a soft bleating. The runaway lamb! She followed the noise until she came to the forbidden stream. The lamb’s bleats sounded as if they came from the thicket on the other side. She stood on tip-toe and tried to see it, but the fern and nettle grew too densely. She set the book and basket down, kicked off her wooden clogs, and holding her skirt high, she began to wade across the stream. She didn’t think it would be so deep, or the pebbles so slick. Her feet slipped, she lost her balance, and she fell into the icy, fast running water. No one had taught her to swim, and as the water closed over her head she thrashed and took a huge breath to scream. Water clogged her nose and mouth and she choked. The swift current snatched her feet out from underneath her; her dress, soaked, pulled her under and she couldn’t get to the surface! Her life flashed before her eyes and it seemed ridiculously short and useless. She’d never done anything worthwhile or interesting, she’d disobeyed her father, and now she drowned. Blackness enveloped her, and she prepared to die, when suddenly something yanked her arm nearly out of its socket and pulled her out of the stream. “Are you all right?” Leonie opened her eyes. She lay on her back in deep grass. She could see nothing but grass and sky for a moment. Then a spasm shook her and she coughed up a prodigious amount of water. Strangling and choking, she rolled over on her side and managed to get her breath back. “Shall I go get help?” Leonie sat up and looked around. Her eyes fell on a young man. “You!” she cried. The shepherd drew back, a startled expression on his face. “Do you know me? Have we met?”

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How could she explain? “No, not exactly. I saw you this morning as you walked with your sheep. Have you come looking for the lamb? I heard it in the forest, and that’s how I came to fall into the stream.” The shepherd nodded, his eyes round, and Leonie wondered if he were shy. Having never met anyone new before, she hoped she made a good impression. She sneezed and quickly wiped her nose on her wet sleeve. So much for making a good impression. “Excuse me, I must look terrible,” she said, pulling a long piece of river weed from her hair. The young man shook his head. “Oh no, you are as beautiful as a summer’s day.” He flushed, and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a bad poem. I’m usually better at conversation.” Leonie had never talked to anyone except the people at the castle, or on rare occasions, father’s imposing visitor – Sir Wulfe, a magician who frightened Leonie and Ann with his bulbous, disconcerting eyes. She didn’t know anything about conversation, but good manners had been drilled into her since birth. She got to her feet and curtsied. “I’m very pleased to meet you, sir.” Her wet dress didn’t quite give the impression she would have liked, and her hem dragged in the muddy grass. The young man stood and bowed. “The pleasure is all mine, my lady. What’s your name?” “Leonie,” she whispered shyly. It was both exciting and frightening to finally talk to someone from the village. She hoped she wouldn’t ruin it by being silly. “Mine is Renaldo. Pleased to meet you, Leonie.” He frowned. “Here, take my cloak. You’re shivering.”

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Leonie wanted to tell him she shivered because she’d never met a stranger before, but her tongue seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth. His hands brushed against her shoulders as he draped his cloak over her, and the sudden warmth made her head spin. She swayed and would have fallen, but he caught her. “You look very pale,” he said smoothing her hair from her face with a gentle touch. “I think I ought to take you home. Where do you live?” Leonie looked around, searching for a familiar landmark. “I live in Castle Veil,” she said. “It’s nearby the stream I fell into. My father said I mustn’t ever cross over, but I heard your lamb and…” she tried to pull away but the young man’s hands had tightened on her waist. “Castle Veil?” his voice sounded strange. “Do you know it?” Hopefully he could point her in the right direction. Instead, the young man let go of her and took a step backward. “What is it?” “Are you an enchantment?” “No, of course not. I’m Leonie.” Clouds blocked the sun and evening came. Her wet dress now felt like ice. “Please help me,” she cried. Renaldo looked at her, and she saw pity in his gaze. “I beg your pardon, Lady Leonie. It’s just that I have heard of Castle Veil, and I’ve seen the magician. I’m afraid the reputation of your dwelling is not a kind one. Your mother was well loved, but your father inspires more fear than confidence, though his healing is above reproach.” “How do you know about my mother?” Renaldo was silent a minute, then he said, “I know about your mother because my father sometimes mentions her. It seems…” he gave a little laugh, then said, “It seems he courted her, but she married the magician. My father says that once she married him she was never seen again.” His voice ended on a questioning note.

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Leonie felt an odd stab of loyalty toward her father. True, he was strict, but never cruel. “It wasn’t our father’s fault. She died in childbirth.” “I’m sorry.” “Father isn’t bad, really, but he’ll be cross if I’m late. Will you help me go back home? Afterward, you can go see to your sheep. I’m sorry if I took you away from your job, your employer will be angry if you don’t find the lamb.” “I will help you get back to your home, and don’t worry about my job. In fact, I’m not really a shepherd.” He paused and gave a wry grin. “My full name is Renaldo Hector Alexander Priam of Windtide. I am prince of this land as my father is King. And forgive me for thinking you were an enchantment, for although we know your father, he has never once spoken of having a daughter.” “Two daughters, actually.” Stung, Leonie considered her shepherd suddenly turned prince. “I’m afraid our father hasn’t taught us anything about how to converse with a prince or what to call one.” She raised her chin higher. “I hope you’ll pardon my ignorance, but I can’t remember all your names anyway” she added. For some reason her vision blurred. “Don’t cry, Leonie. I forget them too. As a matter of fact, I bet I left one or two out.” She knew he said that just to make her feel better, but it worked. She gave him a watery smile. He gave her a clean handkerchief and put his arms around her. As he stared into her eyes, his face drew nearer. Leonie knew what would happen next. She knew it the way she knew she would draw her next breath. Everything about the kiss happened as naturally as breathing. And as soon as their lips touched, Leonie knew that she needed this man the way she needed air to breath, water to drink, and a heart to beat. She closed her eyes, lost in the sensation of finding something she’d been searching for eternally.

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When they drew apart their eyes met. It was like looking into a mirror. “You felt it too,” she whispered. “Yes,” he said, and his mouth curved into a smile. He rested his cheek against hers. “When I get back to my home, I will tell my parents I have fallen in love. And then I will ask your father for your hand in marriage. I hope you will agree.” “Marriage?” “You’ll say yes, won’t you?” “It’s too sudden,” said Leonie. Everything was going in a rush, as if she rode in a magician’s whirlwind. In her storybooks, the princess always felt swept away, and although she was no princess, she understood exactly what the author meant now. “I know this is sudden, but my mother has been speaking of nothing but marriage to me for months now, so I suppose I’ve been looking for the right person. Now I have found you.” “It’s not like going out to search for a job, you know. You’re supposed to court a woman and see if you really like her. We’ve hardly spoken. How could you have fallen in love with me?” Leonie heard her words and wondered where that sensible person had come from, and how she could shut her up. Renaldo grinned. “I fell in love with you the minute I saw you weren’t a drowning dryad. Don’t be worried about my mother. She’ll be thrilled when I tell her the good news.” “Well, Father won’t be very happy when I go back and tell him I’m engaged to someone he’s never met.” “Oh, but I have met him, several times in fact. But don’t say anything yet. It will be a surprise. I’ll come myself and bring all my minstrels to play music, and a gift for your father. Would he like that?” Leonie wasn’t sure her father would like that, but to her it sounded splendid. “Yes, of course.”

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“As soon as possible, I will come to your castle and ask your father for your hand. Now, shall I accompany you to your home?” “I don’t know where I am. I’ve never gone further than the orchards.” She hoped he didn’t think her too stupid. Ann said it was best she just smile and keep her mouth shut when meeting new people. Renaldo didn’t call her an idiot, as Ann would have. Instead, he took her hand and led her to the highest point in the meadow. He pointed to the valley, and there, nestled among the orchards and gardens, was Castle Veil. From here it seemed very tiny, and she realized with a start that it wasn’t truly a castle, but a large manor house rather in need of repairs. The roof sagged, and the shutters drooped mournfully from the windows. Bob kept the gardens neat, though, and the fences around the orchard all stood straight, although rambling briar roses had overgrown them. Now, in the autumn, the briar rose’s pale pink flowers had disappeared leaving place for vibrant red rose hips. Gloria, their red and white spotted milk cow, stood against the orchard fence waiting to be milked. As Leonie watched, Bob came down the well-worn path to lead her to the stables. Renaldo took her hand and said, “Looks like you’ll have fresh cream with your dinner tonight.” She could see the silvery ribbon of the stream, and to her relief, she was on the right side of it. All she had to do was go down the path through the meadow, cross a small copse of woods, and she’d be in the far orchard, minutes from her home. Renaldo insisted on accompanying her to the orchard, and for a minute they stood, arms entwined, as the sun touched the horizon. The evening breeze rustled the leaves in the orchard. Summer touched its end, the sunflowers bowed their seed-laden heads toward the ground, and the grass turned yellow in the pastures. “Remember what I said.”

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“As soon as possible you’ll come back.” Soon would seem like years, she knew, and already her heart broke at the thought of leaving him for a minute. But her father waited in his study, and the sun turned red. Her lesson would soon start, and she hadn’t learned a thing. With a sigh she gave him one last kiss, then pulling gently from his grasp, she ran barefoot across the orchard toward her home.

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Chapter Two The Betrothal

From her perch by the window, Ann saw Leonie hurry across the garden and head for the front door. She noted her sister’s tangled hair, rumpled dress, bare feet, and missing Latin book and basket. What had happened? She darted at glance at her father, sitting behind his table on a high-backed, wooden chair. The small, round room held two overflowing bookcases. The stuffed ocelot crouched on one, and a large terrestrial globe sat on another. When she was little, Ann had pulled the ocelot’s eyes out and lost them, and Leonie had put blue marbles in their place. Their father had never noticed, much to Ann’s relief. The bookcases flanked a small brick fireplace, empty in the summer except for a pile of old wood-ash. In the doorway stood a hat stand with three black cloaks hanging on it. In the middle of the room, her father’s heavily carved wooden table took up most of the space. On the table were the crystal ball covered with a velvet cloth, several worn leather-bound books, her fathers pen and ink set, and an old, gold-tipped ivory wand. Ann sat in the casement window, her knees drawn up under her skirt, nibbling her lower lip with worry. A rap sounded at the door. “Enter.” Her father’s dry voice sent shivers down Ann’s spine, and Leonie slipped into the room.

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“Good evening, Father.” Leonie sketched a quick curtsy and smiled brightly. Ann’s heart skipped a beat. How pale Leonie seemed! She’d gathered her hair in a rough knot at her neck, and her dress was damp and mud-stained. Didn’t her father notice anything? His narrowed eyes remained fixed upon his papers. “Ann says you’ve been studying. I certainly hope for your sake it’s true.” Leonie turned even more ashen, and she’d just opened her mouth to reply, when suddenly Cook burst into the room. “The Crow Caller has arrived, Sir!” Ann had never seen her father look so startled. He blinked and looked at the water clock. “He’s early,” he said. “The Crow Caller!” Ann clapped her hands. News came so rarely to the castle, that when the Crow Caller was spotted, she and Leonie always raced to be the first to tell their father. Even Leonie gave an excited cry and rushed to the window. The sisters pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, as they watched the crow fly into the courtyard. “This is my favorite part,” whispered Leonie. The crow landed, and as soon as its feet touched the ground, the spell holding him into crow form dissipated and he became a tall, thin man dressed in a colorful tunic. He brushed his sleeves off and straightened his clothes, then looked up and waved at the girls. “Shall I show him to the library?” asked Cook. The wizard raised his eyebrows. “Of course, Cook. Serve him some brandy. Oh, and tell Cook that there will be another place at the table. Sir Wulfe called on the crystal ball. He’ll be here shortly as well.” “Will the Crow Caller stay for supper?” Cook asked. “I doubt it. He has other places to go. News must fly, you know. News must fly.” He sighed and looked at Leonie. “I’m afraid your lesson will have to wait. Now, go change into something

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more fitting for dinner. Ann, you will eat in the kitchen as usual. Leonie, tonight you will eat in the dining room with Sir Wulfe and me.” “Yes sir.” Leonie gave a curtsy and fled. Ann breathed a sigh of relief. Leonie had been saved from reciting her Latin! Then another thought struck her. Leonie would eat in the dining room that night, and she would be all alone in the kitchen. A funny lump grew in her throat. “Can I come hear what the Crow Caller has to say?” Her father waved distractedly. “Yes, of course. But don’t hang about, and remember to come and pay your respects to Sir Wulfe when you’re ready.” Ann leapt off the casement window and ran down the hallway to Leonie’s room. “Leo!” Ann slipped into her room and hugged her tightly. “Where were you? I was so worried! Let’s go see what the Crow Caller has to say!” But Leonie shook her head. “No, Father will tell us, I’m sure. I have to tell you something Ann, the most marvelous, incredible thing happened today… I met a handsome prince.” Ann snorted. “I’m sure there are hundreds of them in the orchard.” “No really, I met the man I saw in the crystal ball this morning! He was looking for his lost lamb!” “That was a shepherd.” “He’s not a shepherd, he’s a prince! He has lots of names. Renaldo, Hector, Alexander… something or other.” She laughed. “Too many names to remember.” Ann didn’t like Leonie’s story one bit. Strangers could be dangerous. Oh well, Leonie was home now, and safe. She shrugged as if she could care less about shepherds and princes. “What dress will you wear? Did you hear Father? You’re to eat in the dining room tonight. Oh darn, the Crow Caller is getting ready to leave.”

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Leonie looked out her window, the setting sun gilding her face and hair. “Look, he’s about to change.” In a flurry of black and gold sparks, the messenger became a shiny, black crow again. Flapping his wings, he set off toward the next castle or village to call the news. Magicians, of course, had their crystal balls. And most people, Ann knew, had a small crystal in order to get in touch with a wizard in case of sickness or an emergency. But she loved Crow Callers. They came once or twice a week, but she never grew tired of watching them and hearing their news. Leonie was usually even more interested than she was, but tonight, for some reason, she seemed distracted. “I don’t have anything formal.” She didn’t sound as if she cared one way or another. Her eyes sparkled as if stars lived in them, and she sighed, pressing her hand against the clear glass. “Renaldo,” she whispered. Ann frowned. “Take one of Mother’s old dresses.” “Do you think I ought to?” Leonie opened her wardrobe and gently touched the dresses hanging there. “Aren’t they lovely?” “Wear that one. It matches your eyes.” Ann knew Leonie would look stunning in the gray, watered-silk gown with the crystals embroidered on the bodice like a sprinkling of frost. Leonie dressed, and then Ann brushed and braided her hair for her. “Why is your hair so damp?” she asked. “I fell into the stream.” “Leo, Father forbid us to cross the stream.” “But I heard the lamb, and anyway, I never crossed the stream. I fell in and the current caught my dress and hair and dragged me under.” She shuddered and took Ann’s hand. “I thought I was drowning, and all I could think was I’d never done anything in my life and how unfair it was… when suddenly someone pulled me out of the water.” Ann’s heart faltered. “You almost drowned!”

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“I nearly did. But Renaldo pulled me out and saved me. Prince Renaldo, I mean. He’s going to ask Father for my hand in marriage. He’s coming back soon and he’s bringing all his minstrels! Just think what fun it will be!” Leonie looked into the mirror and met her sister’s eyes. “Oh Ann, don’t look so stricken. I’ll never leave you. You’ll come live with us and…” Ann took her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. “You can’t be serious! You’ve been tricked. A prince doesn’t go around pulling girls out of streams. You met some villager who wanted to impress you for a kiss. You didn’t kiss him, did you?” Leonie’s face turned white, and she began to tremble. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Renaldo is a prince, and he does love me. He says he’s seen Father…” “Like most of the people living in the region,” Ann’s temper slipped and she had to clench her fists so as not to slap Leonie. “You’re such a fool, Leo! No wonder Father doesn’t want us going out of the castle grounds. You threw yourself at the first boy you met. Pray that Father never finds out, or you’ll spend the rest of your life as a… as a sheep!” Tears filled Leonie’s gray eyes. “Renaldo also said that his father, the King, knew our mother. He even courted her, and that’s why Father isn’t much appreciated outside the castle. That’s why he doesn’t like us go out.” Ann had rarely heard her sister sound so sure of herself. The mention of her mother and the King troubled her too. “Leo…” she began, intending to tell her sweet, idiotic sister that princes did not, in fact, stroll around in the woods by themselves, when a hard knock sounded on the door and Cook poked her head into the room. “Your father wants you both downstairs,” said Cook. The two girls followed obediently, Leonie first, Ann behind her. In the doorway, Leonie paused. At that very moment, Sir Wulfe stood up and turned to face her. Ann, standing back a ways, saw everything. She saw her father’s strangely anxious

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expression, she took in Sir Wulfe’s rapacious smile, and she knew immediately what had transpired. “Oh, no,” Ann whispered. Although she shared her father’s pale, wintry coloring, Leonie radiated the beloved warmth of spring where everything is fresh and new. Her gray eyes, so limpid and clear, reflected her emotions like sunlight on water, and her smile could melt even the coldest of hearts. That evening, dressed in silk the color of dawn, her ash blond hair caught in a looping braid that bared her long, slender neck, Leonie looked like the most regal princess in the world. And her world was about to be shattered. “Come meet your betrothed,” said their father to Leonie. Leonie staggered, catching herself just in time on the doorway. “My… my betrothed?” Her voice sounded like ashes. “Yes. Sir Wulfe has asked for your hand in marriage and I have accorded him this honor. Come, daughter, you must have known you would be married some day. You celebrated your twentieth birthday last month, and now it’s time for you to leave home.” Their father’s voice sounded strangely hearty. Leonie managed to peel herself off the doorway and stand up straight. Moving like an automat, she crossed the room and dropped into a curtsy. “Sire, I would have hoped that my suitor ask me before he addressed his demand to you.” Her head bowed, Leonie spoke to the floor. Ann had never been prouder of her sister than at this moment. No screams or tears, just a quiet voice and tiny tremors that set the crystals on the dress’s bodice sparkling. “Your opinion is not needed in this circumstance. As your father, I am best suited to choose for you.” He leaned back in his chair. “If you are to marry, you will need a trousseau and a

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wedding dress. Tomorrow, you can accompany me to the village to buy fitting cloth and order dresses while I post the bans.” Sir Wulfe raised his eyebrows. “Is there a decent seamstress in the village? Otherwise, I can send one from my estate.” Ann saw Leonie shiver again, but her father said, “We have an adequate seamstress in town. Leonie will be glad to choose her own dress, won’t you, daughter?” Another tremor shook her, but Leonie simply said, “Sire, it is with great pleasure I accompany you to the village.” Had she been ensorcelled? Ann had never heard that tone of voice from her sister. She wanted to rush in and scream that Leonie could never marry Sir Wulfe, but then Cook came and dragged her to the kitchen. Alone with Bob and Cook at the table, Ann tried to make sense out of what happened that day. What was Leonie up to? She couldn’t seriously be thinking of accepting Sir Wulfe’s proposal. Her thoughts clashed in her head. Leonie couldn’t marry Sir Wulfe! Besides, he frightened her for some reason. She and Leonie had often made fun of him behind his back, calling him Sir Big Bad Wolf, when they were children. What had Father been thinking? Her food tasted like sawdust and her sister’s plight made her head ache. She hardly ate a thing, and excused herself before dessert. But when she went to her room, she tapped on Leonie’s door. It was closed and locked, and her sister did not answer when she knocked and pleaded with her to let her in. Finally, the tears she’d managed to hold back all day trickled down her cheeks, and she went to her room, buried her head in her pillow, and cried herself to sleep as silently as possible. #

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Leonie had never been one for tears. Her father detested shows of emotion, and she’d learned at an early age that sobbing never changed his mind. Therefore, she ate her dinner in silence, murmured politely when spoken to, and then excused herself. Sir Wulfe stood and bowed, taking her hand in his. “My dear, I hope you are as happy as I am,” he said. Leonie simply smiled. Ann and her father had always insisted she keep her mouth closed and say nothing. Smiling in silence was what she did best. As she left, she heard Sir Wulfe tell her father that she was ‘exquisite.’ Numb described her better. She sat in front of her mirror and unbraided her hair. Slowly, she brushed it. Then she took off her mother’s dress and hung it up, and slipped her soft, flannel nightgown over her head. She looked at her narrow bed, its worn white sheets and patchwork quilt, but she didn’t lie down. Instead, she took her candleholder and walked down the hallway to her father’s study. The crystal ball winked in the candlelight. Leonie peered into its depths, letting her mind free, not thinking of anything until she felt the little prickle that meant the crystal had become attuned to her. How did she know how to do this? Instinct told her to open her thoughts, to let the crystal enter her mind and link with her. But this time, instead of letting the crystal ball show her what it wished, she turned her thoughts to Renaldo. Show me Renaldo. Instantly, the image showed a lovely room with a huge stone fireplace and red and blue tapestries hanging from the wall. Renaldo lounged in a comfortable chair, the black and white dog lying at his feet. Next to Renaldo stood a young man who could only be Renaldo’s brother. He had the same slanted, dancing green eyes, though his hair was dark brown and sleek, not tousled red curls. The two young men shared the same fair skin and smattering of freckles, high cheekbones and strong

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chins. Both wore velvet tunics cut to perfection, tight hose showed their long, muscular thighs, and they wore high leather boots. Both also wore circlets of silver. “If only Ann could see this,” she murmured to the crystal ball. She looked carefully at the two young men. They spoke, but she couldn’t hear their words. She hadn’t learned to adjust the volume on the crystal ball. Renaldo leaned back and crossed his booted legs, and his brother said something that made him laugh. The dog wagged its tail in its sleep, and Renaldo’s expression became serious. He stared at the fire a minute, then spoke. His brother perched on the edge of the chair, his face intent. After Renaldo finished talking his brother nodded and grinned, clapping Renaldo on the back. Had Renaldo told his brother about her? She didn’t know, but just seeing him soothed her tortured spirit. How she wished she could transform herself into a bird and fly to him – but magicians didn’t do that sort of thing. They could change others, but only the most powerful magicians could change themselves. And powerful magicians hardly existed anymore. For some reason, magic seemed to be melting away at the same rate that technology advanced. When someone invented a new way of doing something with a machine, then the magic that had been needed before vanished. Her father had explained it with a sailboat. Before the invention of sails, magicians had been required to ride on the boat and use their magic to make the boats advance. But now, with sails, the magicians were free to do other things while the wind worked for them. There were magicians everywhere, and technology came slowly. But every time technology did arrive, a wizard would lose his job. The fire starters, for example, had been replaced by matches. Not as impressive as a magician waving a wand and starting a blaze with a burst of sparks – but a lot easier to carry around. Some magicians, like her father, did a bit of everything.

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Others, especially those who lived in great cities, were more specialized, and some worked together, like the wizards in charge of building. The rules of magic were quixotic, illogical, and unreliable. Ann, with her sharply logical mind, had trouble working with true magic. Leonie, on the other hand, understood it without trying to comprehend it, and that’s why the crystal ball and the transformation spells worked on her and not on Ann. Ann thought that her father had never tried to transform her – but Leonie knew better. She knew it vexed her father considerably he could not make his spells stick on his practical, brilliant daughter, while she, a stupid, empty-headed twit, was as malleable to magic as soft clay. She had never told Ann this, but while she’d been transformed into a sparrow, she’d spent hours perched in a nook nearby her father. For three days, she’d been privy to his mutterings. He’d muttered about her and he’d muttered about Ann, and she’d learned more about the nature of magic in those three days than in ten years of studying Latin verbs and spells. The crystal ball went dark, and Leonie stepped backwards, fatigue making her knees tremble. She drew the velvet cover back over the ball, and picked up her candle. Then she went back to her room and locked the door. She fell onto her bed, and sleep claimed her at once, dropping upon her as suddenly and heavily as a black, velvet cover. # Renaldo walked his dog before heading upstairs to his rooms. Clara snuffled busily around in the bushes, while Renaldo strolled along the gravel path and thought about Leonie. He’d spoken to his brother, Sylvain, because he had to tell someone about the glorious lass he’d pulled from the stream.

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“I swear, at first I thought she was a dryad. Her skin is so fair, her eyes and hair so pale, that she looks to be made of streams and quicksilver… she’s stardust and moonlight.” He laughed self-consciously, and Sylvain had clapped him on the back. “You’re smitten,” he said. “I want to marry her,” Renaldo told him. “I shall tell our father as soon as he returns from the kingdom of Bromley. When that’s done, I’ll ask Leonie’s father’s permission to marry her. I said I’d bring my musicians along. I wonder if Minstrel Giles has some new songs. I’m getting tired of his ‘Through the Green Wood and Back Again.’” “Maybe he’ll get lost in the Green Wood and never come back.” Sylvain yawned. “I think you better talk to Father before you go proposing. You’re supposed to marry one of the Bromley princesses, remember?” “Nothing has been decided, signed or sealed. I’m still free to make my own choice.” Renaldo paused for a second, trying to remember the last treaty the two countries had about marriages and successions, but the image of Leonie took all other thoughts away. Sylvain went upstairs, and Renaldo whistled for Clara and took her for her walk, his mind full of images of Leonie. Her gentleness captivated him, her pale hair and eyes entranced him, and she moved so gracefully that it seemed she danced all the time. Suddenly waiting for his father to return seemed too long. Why wait? He’d go the next day and storm Castle Veil, taking his bride and carrying her off on his horse, like in the old days, when the tribes took their women by force, by stealth, and by night. The old ways had given over to the more civilized traditions of wedding feasts and dancing. But there were still, in the far corners of the kingdom, small hamlets where the men would pretend to steal the maiden – though the window be left open on purpose, and the wedding dance preformed the next day in the village square.

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He could picture himself carrying his bride home on the front of his saddle, her hair flying, her cheeks pink, her eyes brilliant as twin stars. “Leonie,” he whispered. But only the night birds answered, and Clara pricked up her ears and whined softly.

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Chapter Three Leonie’s Letter

The next day, contrary to all his rules, Leonie’s father asked her to accompany him to the village. Ann, dressed in a smock and apron to help Cook with the luncheon, stayed behind. Sir Wulfe, powerful wizard that he was, had taken a whirlwind back to his castle. Bob swept up all the leaves in the courtyard that the whirlwind had pulled off the trees. As he swept he muttered darkly. Apparently, he didn’t much approve of whirlwind travel. Leonie put on her cloak and walking shoes, and begged Ann to go to the forest and fetch her clogs, the basket, and the Latin book before it rained and they got ruined. “They’re alongside the stream in front of the field of nettles. Thank you, dear.” She’d kissed Ann with lips as cold as ice, and had gone to the village, walking next to Father as if she did it every day of the week. Ann watched her go, and then she slipped out the back door and went to the woods. She found her sister’s clogs, the basket, and the book, and as she picked them up, a loud snuffling startled her. A black and white dog poked its head out of the thicket on the other side of the stream. Ann gave a shriek and jumped backwards. She lost her footing and landed in a clump of stinging nettles. “You scared me,” she scolded the dog. “Clara is very sorry.” Ann looked up at the voice, and saw a tall, red-haired young man standing on the far side of the stream. He smiled in a friendly fashion. “She didn’t mean to make you fall. Are you all right?” Ann narrowed her eyes. The young man held a shepherd’s crook, but his clothes were far too fine for a shepherd. “Do sheep herders go around wearing such lovely cloaks? Yours is lined in silk, unless I am mistaken. Aren’t you afraid to tear it in the brambles?”

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The man looked startled, then laughed. “Oh, this old thing. It belonged to my father, I think. I say, have you seen a lamb hereabouts? Someone told me it was last seen around here.” Ann sighed. “My sister, no doubt. So you are the famous Renaldo. Prince Renaldo Hector Alexander something or other,” she corrected. “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t curtsy. The nettles have given me a terrible rash on the legs.” “I’m sorry to hear that. You should put fresh water on it, and plantain leaves will help, if you can find some.” He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re Leonie’s sister. Well, so much for my going around incognito. It seems a prince can’t go out in disguise these days without a being recognized.” Ann made a face. “Well, if you want to disguise yourself, don’t wear nice clothes. I can’t imagine the villagers wearing such finery to search for lost lambs. Do you really have so many names?” “More than I can remember,” he said cheerfully. “Poor lamb. I hope it hasn’t been eaten by a wolf. I shall have to look some more.” He hesitated, then said in a low voice, “Is Leonie all right? She seemed worried that her father might punish her for not learning her lessons.” “She’s fine.” “Good. I told her I’d be back soon, but I just couldn’t wait. I want to see her again. I’m afraid I’m not good at being patient. Is your father here? And is Leonie around? I might as well do this today instead of putting it off until my father gets back. He’ll be thrilled anyhow, he and my mother have been bothering me about marriage for months now.” The prince gave her a wide grin. Ann gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Should she tell him? The image of Leonie’s white face came to her then, and she took a deep breath. “They’re not here right now. Can you come back here this evening? Right to this place? Leonie has something important to tell you.”

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He looked taken aback. “To tell me? I hope it’s nothing serious. I don’t know if she said anything to you, but I can tell you this, I’m hopelessly in love with your sister. I was planning on coming here and bringing my minstrels. I even made them learn some new songs.” “She told me about the minstrels.” Ann’s legs burned horribly with nettle rash, but suddenly all that mattered was Leonie’s happiness. She liked this prince. He had such a candid face, with clear, green eyes that slanted like a cat’s and a wide mouth that stretched easily into a grin. She liked him far better than she liked Sir Wulfe. Something evil and cold lurked inside Sir Wulfe’s mind; and whatever it was, it stared out of his eyes and made her shiver. “Please be here tonight.” Ann pointed to the spot she stood upon. “Leonie will come.” “All right, little sister Ann, for that is your name, is it not? Leonie told me she had a sister, but she didn’t say how pretty she was.” Renaldo bowed, and then Clara, his dog, began to bark and he said, “I think she’s found the lamb. Farewell, pretty Ann, and thank you. Tell Leonie I’ll see her here tonight.” His voice faded as he disappeared into the woods. Ann picked up the basket, tucked the book in it, and, clogs in hand, went back to Castle Veil. “A nice man, to be sure,” she said to herself in a low voice. “But he must be short-sighted, for I am plain, not pretty.”

The path to the village led through a shady wood, then across fields that rolled in gentle hills and dales. Leonie pulled the ribbons on her hat tighter as the breeze picked up. On the top of the hill, the wind flapped in her skirts and tugged at her braid. “What’s the village like?” Leonie asked. Her father shrugged and replied, “It’s a middle sized village.” “And, who rules it?”

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The path led downhill now, and the wizard lengthened his stride. “The king rules all the villages in this kingdom.” “Are you the resident wizard for this village?” He peered at her from beneath bushy eyebrows and said, “Of course, child. What did you think I did?” “I don’t know – stalk around the countryside turning people into frogs.” Leonie had no idea how that popped out, but to her amazement, her father laughed. She nearly tripped over her skirts. Emboldened, she said, “Are you the only magician for this whole kingdom?” He nodded. “That’s right. Windtide has no large cities. Our capital is the smallest one of all the seven kingdoms. So far, I’ve been able to take care of the whole kingdom. It has meant some travel, and it’s true that I sometimes left you girls alone for days. But two magicians would be too many here. Although lately, the population has been growing and I’m sometimes hard put to take care of everything.” “I’ve never seen any village or city,” said Leonie, giving a little shrug. “So I can’t even imagine one.” “You’ve seen pictures in books, and watched in my crystal when the news appears.” “Yes, but it’s not the same. Is there a hospital in Windtide?” “Of course, child. And there are wizard healers there too. But you know that wizard healers use very little magic now that technology has been invented.” “Yes, I know. Is that good or bad, do you think?” “Good, I believe. Magic is too capricious. Sometimes it does the unexpected, whereas with technology you always know what will happen. For example, when I put a plaster cast on a broken leg, I know it will stay on until I take it off. Sometimes a spell would wear off

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unexpectedly, and some people are immune to magic, and in the old days, couldn’t be treated at all.” “A bit like Ann. Thank goodness we have some technology now. When she had the whistle cough, you could heal her with chemistry. That’s a bit like technology, isn’t it? Tell me, are some magicians more important politically than others?” Her father looked at her, a startled expression on his face. “I see you are starting to take an intelligent interest in things around you. And to forestall your next question, Sir Wulfe is the resident wizard for the kingdom of Querel, and he is far more powerful than I. He is immensely rich and influential. He did us a great honor asking for your hand in marriage.” “What is the kingdom like?” Leonie shivered at the mention of Sir Wulfe. Her father frowned, then said, “Alas, the kingdom of Querel is torn by a civil war. If I doubted for an instant that Sir Wulfe could protect you, I would never have agreed to his proposition,” he hastened to add. Leonie looked at him askance. “A civil war?” She had lived all her life in the peaceful kingdom of Windtide, so she couldn’t begin to imagine the strife of war. “The Crow Caller came to tell the latest news. Supposedly the fighting has intensified.” “Is it dangerous to go to Querel?” “No, most of the fighting takes place at sea. Querel is a long, narrow kingdom bordering the Westyrn Ocean, and it includes many islands and a long coastline. Both princes covet the islands, for they are rich in minerals. Three years ago, the two princes of Querel claimed the throne and ousted their father, King Gustavo. The princes’ father has been pushed into the far corner of his kingdom, near Sir Wulfe’s land. Sir Wulfe has been trying in vain to stop the war and reconcile the two princes, Alonzo and Hidalgo, but so far they refuse even to parley.”

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“How dreadful!” Leonie plucked a cornflower from the side of the road and gently smoothed its blue petals. “You’ve told me more about Querel than I know about our own kingdom. Oh, I know we live in a small kingdom caught between Querel and Bromley, and that our chief export is wool. I also know that we have no major cities.” “What else do you want to know?” “Who rules Windtide? Is he powerful? What’s our king’s name?” Leonie asked. At once she realized she’d made a mistake. Her father’s face grew as dark as a thundercloud. “King Miles,” he spat, then clamped his lips in a thin, tight line. Leonie’s heart sank. Any hopes she had for convincing her father that a prince would be better than a wizard had been dashed by her father’s words and tone of voice. They finished the rest of the walk in silence, so luckily the village came into view around the very next bend. The village! Leonie knew this was a very small village, but she had never seen such a hustle and bustle. Horses pulling carts and carriages, mules laden with bundles, even a team of oxen, made their way down the main street. Women and men strolled about, and some children played in the shade of a huge chestnut tree planted in the middle of the village square. “Is it always so busy?” Leonie asked, holding back a bit. Her father took her elbow and steered her down the side of the street. “Today is market day. But we’ll skip the market and go directly to the clothing shop. You can order material for your wedding gown. Stay right here and wait for me,” he added, as he opened the door to a small, dark shop and escorted her inside. Leonie’s eyes adjusted to the dimness and she saw row upon row of bales of cloth, stacked along the wall. A short, gray-haired woman stood behind the long, wooden counter. She held a pair of shears in one hand and a tape measure in the other, and looked to be busy cutting a length of blue velvet. As Leonie and her father drew near, she looked up and her eyes widened.

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“Why, if it isn’t the magician. What can I do for you, Sir Casper?” “This is my daughter, Leonie. She’d getting married and needs some cloth for gowns and such. I hope you can help her while I go about my business.” His voice, noted Leonie with surprise, wasn’t as stern as it usually was a home. Here he sounded almost…shy. Her father nodded, patted Leonie on the shoulder, and left. Leonie stared after him, then she turned and managed a curtsy. “Pleased to meet you,” she said. The woman set her shears and tape measure down and came out from behind the counter. “Sure and I thought I was dreaming when I saw you. You’re the very image of your mother.” She shook her head. “Where are my manners? My name’s Mistress Dawn. I’m the village seamstress.” Sudden tears filled her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s been almost twenty years since your mother left. Seeing you is like seeing a ghost.” Leonie flinched. “Poor Father, to have to look upon me each day. No wonder he wants to send me far away.” She took a deep breath. “Can you tell me about her? What was her name?” Mistress Dawn’s eyebrows rose. “Has your father never told you about her at all?” “No, not a word. We haven’t a portrait or anything but her old dresses.” Mistress Dawn went back behind the counter and started to take down bolts of cloth, all the while speaking over her shoulder. “A portrait you don’t need, just look into a mirror, child. Your mother’s name was Faith. She was born in this village and grew up here. Everyone adored her. Her parents wanted only the best for her, and they turned down all the suitors in the village. Word spread of her beauty, and one day the king, then Prince Miles, came riding by. He saw her and fell in love. Everyone thought that would be the end of it. He’d ask for her hand in marriage and she’d marry the prince and become queen.” Leonie frowned. “But she didn’t. How did she meet my father?”

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“Well, he’d always been around. Magicians are scarce and he had many villages to attend, but he passed through here often enough. Folk didn’t realize he’d been smitten by your mother.” “He didn’t court her?” “Oh, no. We called him ‘the quiet magician’. Hardly a word he spoke to anyone, except for healing. Besides, everyone thought she would marry the prince. But there was a slight problem. You see, his parents had officially engaged him to marry someone else.” Leonie felt the blood drain from her face. “What?” “Aye, it came as a shock to everyone. Seems his ministers had signed a contract for him to marry some princess from the kingdom of Bromley, but when he saw your mother he tried to annul the contract. Thing is, the two kingdoms wouldn’t accept that. ‘Twas all politics, you understand, a way for the two kingdoms to avoid war. The marriage was a peace treaty of sorts. The king wasn’t the king at the time, he was prince, and his parents arranged the marriage for him.” “Why couldn’t he just break off the engagement and marry my mother?” Leonie wanted to know. “Political reasons. The prince had to marry before the moon-tide, or the other kingdom would declare war.” “He did what he thought was honorable,” Leonie whispered, her throat tight. Mistress Dawn shrugged. “Poor Faith didn’t know what to do. She stood under the chestnut tree over there, and the prince tried to comfort her but she pushed him away. Then your father went over to her.” Mistress Dawn gave a long sigh. “Prince Miles felt shamed, for he truly had been infatuated by your mother. “I stood here in the shop’s door and saw the whole scene. The prince handed a bag of gold to your father, and your father hurled it right back at him. Didn’t say a word. The prince went back

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to his politics and became King Miles, and your father took Faith straight to the wedding chapel and married her that very day.” “Oh.” Leonie said faintly, looking toward the doorway. “The wizard bought Castle Veil and installed her in it so she wouldn’t be far from her family and friends. But she didn’t like to leave the castle. In a short time, she had two difficult pregnancies and childbirths… and when she died, sorrow crushed your father. He locked himself in the castle and didn’t come out until finally the king came begging. The kingdom needed a magician, his healing powers most of all. Your father went back to work, but since losing his wife, he was never himself.” Leonie blinked, and two tears slid down her cheek. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. “What about my grandparents?” she asked. “They were angry with your father. They hadn’t liked it when he married your mother without a by-your-leave, and they practically accused him of murdering her when she died. Then, broken with grief, they passed away.” Mistress Dawn sighed and then held up a length of silver cloth. “Let’s see how this looks against your skin.” “Mistress Dawn…” Leonie hesitated, then said in a rush, “I wish to leave a message for Prince Renaldo. Do you know him? Would you know anyone who could give it to him?” “Prince Renaldo?” Mistress Dawn’s eyebrows lifted. “Now that’s coincidence. He’s in the village to study the art of shepherding. Seems he’s interested in learning different trades. Last year he studied sailing.” “Can you give him a message? Without anyone knowing about it?” “Well… I could try. Oh wait,” she snapped her fingers. “My boy Sean can give it to him. Do you have it?”

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Leonie took a folded paper from her pocket. “Here. No one else must see it. Please, it’s important.” Mistress Dawn took it and tucked it in her apron. “Your father said you were getting married. Is it to Prince Renaldo? How exciting…” “Oh, please. Say nothing more. My father has betrothed me to another magician, and I… I have to give the prince this message, that’s all.” Leonie felt a pang of disquiet as the message disappeared into the seamstress’s apron. As soon as she had been sure her father would take her to the village, she’d gathered her courage and written a message to Prince Renaldo. The message said, “My father has given me in marriage to Sir Wulfe, a magician. I don’t want to marry Sir Wulfe, I love you, Renaldo. Yours forever, Leonie.” Mistress Dawn patted her arm. “Well, let’s choose some cloth for you. Shall I make your dresses or do you have another seamstress?” By the time Leonie’s father returned, she’d ordered three dresses, and Mistress Dawn had taken her measurements, writing everything down on scraps of paper. Her father paid, and then he nodded, and they left. Leonie would have liked to see more of the village, and her throat was parched. “May I get something to drink before we head back?” she asked. For an answer, her father pointed to the public fountain, at the street corner. Leonie cupped her hands and drank. The water tasted fresh and sweet. Afterward, she and her father took the dusty road back to Castle Veil. She wanted to speak to her father about all that she’d heard, and tell him she understood his pain for she too loved someone with all her heart. But her father marched on in silence, his face stern, and Leonie lost her courage.

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She wished, oh how she wished, that she dared take her father’s hand. But she never had, and sadly, she realized that she never could. He’d shut himself off from her and from the rest of the world. Only a small part of what he used to be survived in the shell that had once been ‘the quiet magician’.

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Chapter Four The Transformation

“Leo, I saw your prince.” Ann had waited until after dinner and they were all alone before telling her. “Where?” Leonie stood in front of the chimney, her arms resting on the mantle, basking in the fire’s glow. “He came searching for the lost lamb near the nettle fields.” Leonie’s head snapped up. “Did you speak to him?” Ann colored a bit. “Yes. He’s very nice, Leonie. I liked him.” A knot untied itself in Leonie’s chest. “You did?” She couldn’t stop smiling. Ann was so hard to please. If she liked Renaldo, it must mean he could charm the bees from their honey. “He wanted to see you, and I told him you had something to tell him, and he’ll meet you tonight at the nettle field.” Ann looked so serious as she spoke – a serious little red-haired owl, with her small, folded mouth and big, solemn eyes the color of brown pebbles. “Oh, Ann!” Laughter burst from Leonie’s throat, and she took her sister’s hands and danced in a round. “You are a marvel, thank you! Now it won’t matter if he gets his note or not. I can tell him tonight.” “Tell him what? What note?” Ann pulled away from Leonie and frowned. “You didn’t write a note, did you? Who did you give it to? Who can you trust?” Leonie felt her cheeks flush. Ann looked so grim all of a sudden. “I told you about the seamstress, and what she said about our mother.” “Yes, and a very sad tale it was indeed.”

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Leonie beamed. “I gave the note to her, but it matters not, for tonight I will see Renaldo and I’ll tell him that…” Leonie broke off and stared. “What’s the matter Ann?” “I just thought of something. What if Prince Renaldo is engaged to be married? He is a prince, after all, and there are rules for everything he does.” “No, he would never have kissed me and asked me to marry him. He said he would tell his father first thing.” She rubbed her arms, where gooseflesh prickled. “Don’t you see? He loves me and I love him. When I see him tonight, I’m going to tell him that my father has arranged my wedding, but that I want to run away with him.” Ann’s eyes grew even wider. “Did you put that in your note?” “Of course not. I just said I loved him, and I didn’t want to marry Sir Wolfe. Don’t worry. Mistress Dawn is a very nice woman, and she promised to get the message to Renaldo.” Even as the words left her lips, Leonie knew she’d been foolish again. Her sister’s withering glare confirmed it. “Leo, you are the most…” An earsplitting crash interrupted Ann’s words. “That came from Father’s study!” Leonie wrenched the door open and, lifting her skirts, ran down the long hallway. Ann came just behind her, her bare feet thumping on the floor. The two girls burst into their father’s study at the same time. Leonie uttered a cry. The crystal ball had shattered into a million, scintillating chips of glass. Her father sat in his chair, several slight cuts on his face. As she watched, he reached up and rubbed the blood away with his hand. “What happened?” She grabbed Ann before she could go in. “No, you’ll cut your feet.” Their father looked at them, his eyes glittering furiously. “I wanted to see the robe you’d chosen. Instead, I saw the seamstress take a letter from her apron and spread it on the counter to read.” His voice dripped bitter frost.

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Leonie’s knees buckled and she fell to the floor. “No,” she whispered. “I contacted Sir Wulfe. His was the rage that broke my crystal.” “No.” She could hardly breathe. Pain, sharp and jagged-edged, twisted her belly. She looked at the white-haired man whom she had just started to know, and she begged. “Father, no. I love Renaldo, I love him. You can’t keep us apart. Please, I’ll die without him. Mistress Dawn told me about you and Mother… you know what it’s like to be in love. Don’t make me marry Sir Wulfe.” “Nonsense. No one ever dies of a broken heart.” Her father picked up the ivory wand. Eyes wide, incapable of movement, Leonie watched as he pointed the wand at her. At the last minute, she held her hands up as if to ward off the spell. She felt something then as the magic washing over her in a prickling, stinging wave changed subtly. She cried out, but she knew she couldn’t stop the transformation. However, she also felt as if she could change it, so she bent her mind to the task. She would not be changed into the form her father had wished – a docile sheep. He meant to teach her a lesson, but she meant to be free. # Ann gasped as Leonie fell to her hands and knees in the midst of the sharp glass. But her sister hardly seemed to feel the cuts. Then Ann heard what her father said. She clapped her hands to her mouth to stop her cry, for her father picked up his wand, pointed it toward Leonie, and spoke the transformation formula. Leonie threw her hand up in supplication. A pale blue light enveloped her, and then she seemed to shimmer. The brightness grew blinding and Ann closed her eyes. When she opened them, she let out a gasp of amazement. A pure white unicorn stood in the middle of the room. It looked at Ann, and then at her father, and it reared, its silvery horn glittering in the candlelight. With a deafening whinny, it leapt out of the room and galloped down the stairs, its hooves clattering on the stone.

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Heedless of the broken glass, Ann dashed to the window and looked out. In the light of the moon, she saw the unicorn streak across the pasture and disappear into the woods. “What have you done?” Ann cried, her voice breaking. She whirled, expecting to see her father’s sardonic frown. Instead, he sat as if stunned, staring at the magic wand. “How did she do that?” he cried. “I meant to change her into a sheep – a fitting creature! Instead, she twisted my own magic!” He got to his feet. “I must contact Sir Wulfe.” “You have to rescue Leonie!” Ann felt a sharp pain in her foot and looked down. A splinter of glass had lodged in her instep. Wincing, she pulled it out and looked for something to use to bandage her foot. “You’re cut.” Her father leaned over and touched her foot. “Poor Ann. Hold on, I’ll fix that.” He took salve and a bandage and bound the cut tightly. Ann sighed as the pain eased, then took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Father, you can’t force Leonie to marry Sir Wulfe. Let’s go find Leonie. I know where she went, and you can talk to Prince Renaldo.” “What? She’s gone to join him?” Her father blanched. “Quickly, child, there’s no time to lose. We must go at once. Where is she?” “I won’t tell you unless you promise not to force her into a marriage she doesn’t want!” Her father looked at her, his expression troubled. “I spoke and acted in anger, and I regret losing my temper. However, I cannot renege my promise to Sir Wulfe. It’s for the best, I promise.” “How can you say that? Leonie loves Renaldo, and he loves her!” Her father took her by the shoulders. “I have no doubt Leonie fell in love with a handsome, young prince. But I know he doesn’t truly love her.” “But…”

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“Just listen.” His voice grew sharper. “Leonie has a charm on her, a charm that makes everyone fall in love with her. It’s a sort of wild magic. She can’t control it – nobody can. That’s why I could never let her go to the village, or see other people. I thought, I truly thought, that Sir Wolfe’s proposal was the best thing that could happen to Leonie. For some reason, Sir Wulfe is immune to her charm.” “How could you let him marry her if he doesn’t love her?” “Of course he loves her. And he can protect her. He’s far more powerful than I am. I couldn’t keep her locked up here forever, she needs a husband.” Ann’s head whirled. The prince hadn’t fallen under Leonie’s spell, he’d simply fallen under a spell. Ann knew about wild magic. It was the bane of magicians because it cropped up out of nowhere and was completely uncontrollable. Poor Leonie! Her father’s voice grew more gentle. “Come, let’s go fetch your sister. I’ll try to talk to her with reason instead of rage.” His shoulders slumped. “I only hope that she’ll listen, for Sir Wulfe’s fury is not to be taken lightly.” Ann eyed the broken shards of crystal and a shiver ran through her. “No, apparently not,” she murmured uneasily. She looked at her father. “Can we wait a little before telling him about this?” “It’s too late, he’s called a whirlwind and he’ll be here shortly.” Her father grimaced and ran his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture, the first one Ann had ever seen him make. “I’d better go and reverse my spell. Come, Ann, lead the way and show me where they were to meet.” # Renaldo tied his horse to the low branches of a hazelnut tree and made his way across the meadow. The moon, nearly full, hid behind a gauzy cloud and a light mist lay in fine swaths on the ground. The world seemed cloaked in silver, mysterious and lovely. Spider webs beaded with

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moonlit dew festooned the tall grass. The night’s quiet was broken only by the soft gurgle of the stream and ducks quacking sleepily from the reeds. And then, out of the night, stepped a vision. A unicorn emerged from the mist, its horn rising in a gleaming spiral from its snowy brow. Pure white and glowing, as if cast in starlight, it had delicate, silvery hooves and eyes like pale blue moonstones. It paused in the deep shadow beneath an apple tree, conspicuous as a pearl lying on black velvet. Renaldo froze and held his breath. Nothing he’d ever seen, except perhaps Leonie, compared to this exquisite creature. And for some reason, Leonie came to mind as he watched it. He wished she could see it, for she’d never believe him. No one, to his knowledge, had ever seen one of these mythical creatures. Even in myth they remained elusive. A symbol of purity, he recalled. He dared not move for fear it would vanish. The sound of loud footsteps made him jump, and the unicorn flicked its tiny, pointed ears as if frightened. “Don’t leave, please,” whispered Renaldo, stretching his hand out as if he could stop it, as if he could touch a dream.

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Chapter Five Wizards and Whirlwinds

Renaldo thought he’d see Leonie. Instead, Ann arrived, holding her skirts out of the long grass, her face pale in the moonlight, her eyes frightened. She didn’t pause but ran straight to the unicorn, and to his amazement, threw her arms around its neck. “Leonie!” she cried. The unicorn quivered and stood still. “What is going on?” Renaldo managed to say after a minute of stunned silence. Ann turned, her face stricken. “My father transformed her. She’s to marry some wizard called Sir Wulfe. You must stay here, Leonie,” she said, as the unicorn made as if to flee. “Father is coming to change you back.” Renaldo took a deep breath. “Leonie? Is it really you?” The unicorn broke away from Ann and trotted to him, laying its head on his arm. He stroked its satiny mane. “Why? Why did he transform you?” Renaldo’s voice shook with anger. “He always transforms her. He says she has to learn,” Ann said. “Learn what?” Renaldo couldn’t imagine how Leonie had suffered. “I won’t let him turn you into anything else, and you won’t have to marry anyone you don’t want. I’ll protect you,” he said to the unicorn. Ann sighed and peered into the darkness. “There’s something else you have to know, but I can’t explain it. Here comes Father. He’ll be able to tell you more. I’m afraid things are more complicated than they seem.” Renaldo tightened his grip on the unicorn, afraid that his temper would get the better of him. He had a vision of himself challenging the wizard to a duel… and getting changed into a toad. He

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swallowed and wished he’d paid more attention to his tutor when he’d been learning about the divisions of magic, but he’d preferred his sword fighting and navigating lessons. The wizard strode into the clearing and stared at them with his strange, frozen eyes. “Come closer, Leonie, that I may reverse the spell.” He hesitated, then said, “I beg your forgiveness, child. My intentions were good, but I see I’ve caused you pain and for that, I’m sorry.” The unicorn nuzzled Renaldo, and then walked daintily toward the magician. The wizard raised his wand and had just started to speak, when a terrific wind knocked them down. Leaves whirled about and the grass whipped Renaldo’s face. The trees leaned, branches lashing, then as suddenly as it had arrived the wind ceased. Renaldo raised his head. Another man stood in their midst. He recognized the man as a magician, for he wore a long black robe with stars sewn upon it, and he carried a wand. The unicorn gave a frightened neigh and made as if to run away, but the wizard raised his wand and said, “Halt!” Instantly the unicorn froze. Ann helped her father to his feet and they faced the new magician. “Sir Wulfe, please understand that…” Ann began, but she got no further. “Silence!” he cried, “Did no one teach you respect for your elders?” He pointed his wand at Ann and she stepped back, her expression wary. Renaldo wanted to intervene, but at that moment Leonie’s father spoke up. “Sir Wulfe. I will…” “You will what?” Sir Wulfe snarled. “I saw the note, as you did. I came as fast as I could. This cannot be allowed to go any further. You,” he pointed to Renaldo. “Begone!” #

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Ann watched in horror as a whirlwind appeared, picked up Renaldo, and carried him away into the darkness. The unicorn, still frozen in place, uttered a plaintive cry, and her father gave a startled gasp. “That was the king’s son. Bring him back or face the king’s wrath!” Ann couldn’t stop her words. Sir Wulfe jumped and looked at her, a frown on his face. “Silence!” he said, and waved his wand. “You said that already.” Ann stamped her foot. “Bring him back, it’s not right. You can’t have Leonie, she’s my sister and she loves Renaldo, not you. Go back home and leave us alone!” Sir Wulfe turned purple with rage. He waved his wand even more, jabbing it frantically at her. “She’s immune to magic,” said her father, taking Sir Wulfe’s arm and stilling it. “Don’t waste your spells.” “You tried to put a spell on me?” Furious, Ann clenched her fists. “No one has the right to spellcast me, do you hear me?” Sir Wulfe gave a frustrated cry and in two steps reached her side and boxed her ear. “No one disobeys me!” he cried. “You’re a dreadful person,” Ann sobbed, her head ringing. She held her ear and wished it would stop hurting. “If I had a wand – I’d change you into a bug and step on you,” she added wrathfully. Sir Wulfe grabbed her arm, but then her father stepped in, his expression one of disgust. “Leave her alone!” he said to Sir Wulfe. “You’ve done enough mischief here. Bring Prince Renaldo back immediately, or I will be obliged to tell King Miles what disaster befell his son. As for Leonie, I no longer honor your proposal for her hand in marriage.”

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Sir Wulfe sputtered a moment, then he stepped back and hissed angrily. “You will tell no one, and I will have your daughter,” he said. He waved his wand, and Ann’s father wavered and shrank, disappearing into the grass. “You’re lower than a snake and a snake you have become.” Then Sir Wulfe turned on Ann. “If you say another word, I’ll make sure he spends the rest of his life as a snake. I’m taking Leonie with me. We shall marry at Winter Equinox, in three months time. After that, I will bring Prince Renaldo back – if he still lives – and restore your father to his human form. Until then, heed my words. Say nothing to the king, stay hidden in your crumbling castle, and pray I never set eyes upon your ugly face again.” With that, Sir Wulfe stirred the air with his wand and another whirlwind came and swept him, and the unicorn, away. Ann found herself alone, with only a little green grass snake where her father had stood. The snake lay as if stunned, and she picked it up. It curled into a ball in her fist, and with a little sob, she tucked it into her pocket. A plaintive whinny came to her ears then, and she saw a horse on the other side of the meadow. The whirlwind must have frightened it, for as she watched, it broke loose from the tree and galloped away toward the village. Ann watched until it was out of sight, then she turned and made her way back to Castle Veil.

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Chapter Six The Unwanted Prince

The little grass snake ate bits of ground meat and insects, but it didn’t seem to need to eat much. Ann made a box for him and kept him in the kitchen. For three days she stayed alone in the castle, alternately crying, making sure the snake was all right, and tending to the animals. Cook had disappeared, and so had Bob. In their places were a shy brown goat and a lop-eared dog of no particular breed. The dog followed Ann about, and the goat wandered around the kitchen and surveyed everything with a mournful air. On the morning of the third day Ann ran out of tears. She did her chores, and then turned the cow and the goat out to the orchard where the goat, who seemed to have forgotten ever being a cook, nibbled on the scarlet rose-hips growing along the fence. Bob, for a little while, still dug with his paws in the garden and pulled the weeds out with his teeth. But after two or three days he too started to forget, and after a while he reverted to a dog, although he would often look at Ann with the strangest expression, as if he almost wanted to speak. She still called the little snake Father, although he couldn’t speak or give any sign he understood her. At first she’d begged him to blink if he understood her, stick out his tongue, nod his head or anything, but he hadn’t. But he liked to curl around her wrist and so she wore him like a small, green-scaled bracelet most of the day as she went about the farm doing the chores. The sun touched the horizon the evening of the third day. Ann was in her father’s study, trying to find a counter-spell in one of his books that might give him back his human form, when

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she caught sight of a flash of red from outside. She went to the window and looked, and saw a young man with a red cloak walking purposefully down the lane toward the castle. Who could that be? She tried to make out his features but he was too far away. Something about him looked familiar though. Running a hand over her hair to smooth it, she went downstairs. Bob had heard the stranger coming and he stood by Ann’s side as the young man drew near. The young man hesitated as he reached the castle gate, then he pushed it open and strode into the courtyard. He saw Ann and stopped. Clearing his throat, he said, “My name is Prince Sylvain, and I’ve come for my brother. Tell me where he is, for I found your message and I know he came to meet you.” Ann blinked. Now she knew who he resembled – Leonie’s prince. They shared the same slanted, green eyes, high cheekbones, proud chins, and straight noses. But instead of auburn curls, this young man had straight, seal-brown hair that glinted like polished ebony. She dreaded telling the prince about his brother, but she managed a polite smile and said, “It’s getting late. Come inside.” She held the door open and stepped back. Bob wagged his tail in a friendly fashion, and after a moment’s hesitation, the young prince entered. Ann curtsied. “Welcome, your Highness. Would you like a cup of tea?” “I want my brother, where is he?” he said angrily. A hot flush stole over Ann’s cheeks. “My name is Ann, and I did not send the note for your brother. That was my sister’s doing.” “Oh.” He looked nonplussed, then his face tightened in anger again. “I demand to see your sister immediately. I’ve come to find my brother, and if I don’t find him, you will feel the wrath of my father the king.”

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The nerve of him! Ann opened her mouth for a sharp retort, then reflected that she would have been mad with worry if Leonie ever disappeared. “I’ll tell you what happened. Your brother saved my sister from drowning and they fell in love. But my father had already promised my sister in marriage to a powerful magician… oh never mind! What’s important is that both my father and Sir Wulfe found out about the note, and when your brother came to meet Leonie, Sir Wulfe sent him away.” She paused for breath. Sylvain hadn’t moved, and he hadn’t lost his tense, angry look. Bob whined softly and nuzzled his hand. He looked down at the dog and his face lost some of its edges. “So where did this Sir Wulfe send him?” Ann had been dreading that question. “I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” The anger was back, it blazed from his green eyes making them look like flashing emeralds. “He just said ‘Begone’, and a whirlwind carried him away. Whirlwinds are what magicians use to travel,” she explained, her voice fading timidly away. “I know that.” He gave her a withering glare. “Where is your sister? I would speak to her. I’m sure she will be of more help than you are.” Ann felt the snake tighten around her wrist. “Sir Wulfe has taken Leonie. He means to marry her in three months, and after he does, he will call your brother back.” “I see.” “You do?” Ann was perplexed. He didn’t fall apart and start raging around the kitchen. He didn’t kick the table, as she had, and he hadn’t broken a pitcher by taking it and throwing it against the wall. The wall still had a chip in the plaster where the pitcher hit it, and her foot still hurt. She sighed. He must either be made of sterner stuff than she, or he had no idea how serious the situation was.

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“What are you going to do?” She had to know. Sylvain looked surprised. “Do? I am a prince. There is a damsel in distress, and my brother is missing. My mission is clear, save your sister and find my brother. Chances are if we find one we’ll find the other. This Sir Wulfe most certainly has a tower where he keeps his prisoners locked up.” Ann shook her head. “You can’t risk it. If you go against Sir Wulfe, he will never turn Father back into a person.” She held out her arm. “See what he did?” Sylvain stepped backwards. “That’s a snake!” “This is my father. Sir Wulfe transformed him.” Sylvain looked into the fire for a moment, a thoughtful frown wrinkling his brows, then he turned to her and said, “This has rather changed my plans. I thought I’d be dragging Renaldo back to the castle by nightfall. Sir Wulfe sent him away in a whirlwind, you say? Well, I’m sure we can reason with him. We can go see him, and we’ll just ask him to release my brother. After all, he is a prince. We should have no trouble at all.” Ann decided to try to be helpful although she didn’t much care for his royal use of ‘we’. “I can tell you where he lives, but must you always talk about yourself in third person? ‘We do this, we do that.’ It sounds so pretentious. It’s ‘I do this’ and ‘I do that’.” He looked at her in surprise. “I meant ‘we’ as in ‘you and I’. You will come with me.” “You must be out of your mind.” Ann backed up, shaking her head. “Why don’t you go get your father’s army, storm Sir Wulfe’s castle, and demand the return of my sister and your brother?” “I can’t do that unless he attacks, declares war on our kingdom. It would be a grave breach of diplomacy if I led my father’s army to Sir Wulfe’s castle. Not that my father would ever let me lead his army anywhere.”

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“Where is your father?” “In Bromley, trying to negotiate the return of our southern lands. He can’t be disturbed, I’m afraid.” “Well, you’ll just have to tell your mother that Sir Wulfe has made Renaldo vanish. She will send soldiers or diplomats to get him back, won’t she?” “Diplomats. Yes. Perhaps that would be the best plan.” Sylvain scratched his head. “Have you got parchment and ink? I’ll scrawl a message. Can you get a Crow Caller here?” “I’ll call one right away.” Ann fetched writing tools for Sylvain, then dashed to her father’s room where the shards of broken crystal glittered balefully in the dust bin. He had a special crystal for the Crow Callers. She found it sitting on his desk, and gave it a rap. As soon as she did, it lit up, casting a faint, pink light onto the desk. It didn’t need magic to work, being enchanted itself. Otherwise, how could all the common people summon Crow Callers? The crystal gave a sharp ring, and a voice came from it. “Yes?” “Ann from Castle Veil here. I’d like to send an urgent message. Is there a Crow Caller in the vicinity?” “Yes, there’s one here. He’ll be at Castle Veil in two ticks.” “Thank you!” Ann gave another rap on the crystal and it went dark. She went downstairs and found Sylvain putting the finishing touches on his letter. “Have you got an envelope and wax seal?” he asked. “I’ve addressed it to my mother, the queen, but the royal letter bearer will run faster if it looks important.” “Yes, there are envelopes and my father’s seal upstairs.” She took the letter and ran back upstairs. Out of breath, she rested for a minute on her father’s tall chair before putting the letter in the biggest envelope she could find. She lit the wax-seal candle with a small box of matches in

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her father’s drawer, and reflected that it was a good thing that matches had been invented. Before, the common people had to have a wizard light a fire with magic. She dripped melted wax upon the letter and stamped it with her father’s seal. It looked very impressive. And just as she finished, she heard Sylvain yell that the Crow Caller had arrived. Hurrying downstairs, she gave the letter to the Crow Caller. He bowed to her, bowed to Sylvain, and then lifted his leg and changed into a shiny black crow. With a saucy flip of his wings, he shot over the trees and vanished in a twinkling. “He said he’ll wait for the answer and bring it back to us as soon as he gets it,” said Sylvain. “I told him it was of utmost importance,” he added. The afternoon passed slowly. Ann scanned the horizon for the Crow Caller, but he didn’t return. When the shadows lengthened, she did the chores. Sylvain helped her muck out the stables and pitch hay, and he carried the full milk bucket back to the manor. He was remarkably helpful for a prince, Ann thought. But then again, she had never met a prince before, so maybe they were all like this. She’d never had a companion her age but she had all her father’s lessons on how to be polite and how to treat guests imprinted on her mind, so she was quite comfortable in her role as hostess. “Set the milk there. I’ll skim the cream off when it rises. Good thing Cook made butter last week. I can make muffins, so we’ll have muffins and cream, and fresh milk for dinner. Is that all right?” Sylvain must have been raised with the same set of rules, for he nodded and said, “Whatever you have is fine by me.” Ann washed up and then made dinner, while Sylvain sat by the fire and patted Bob. The dog seemed to like him, and stayed at his feet all evening. Suddenly, Bob raised his head and looked at the back door, giving a little bark.

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“The Crow Caller!” Sylvain rushed to the door and threw it open. The Crow Caller stood there, holding a letter. “Prince Sylvain Engur…” “Yes, that’s me. Thank you!” Sylvain took the letter and tore it open. He let the envelope drop as he read the note. Ann watched, holding her breath. “Oh no.” Sylvain shook his head, an angry flush stealing over his cheeks. “What is it?” The Crow Caller asked, “Do you want to send a message in return?” “No. Thank you.” Sylvain appeared distracted. Ann, remembering her manners just in time, stepped forward and said to the Crow Caller. “You must be famished. Would you like to join us for dinner?” “Oh, that’s very kind. But I have to get home, my wife is expecting me, and if I eat, I’ll be too heavy to fly!” he raised a leg and then flew off, vanishing immediately in the dark. “What did the letter say?” Ann had to know. I’m afraid we’re on our own,” Sylvain said. “On our own?” “When my mother got my note, she immediately contacted Sir Wulfe. But he told my mother an unfortunate circumstance led to him banishing Renaldo. He says he will get him back immediately. He had no idea Renaldo was crown prince of Windtide. According to my mother, he simply made a mistake.” “He did it on purpose!” Ann stomped her foot. “Are you certain? My mother’s letter is quite explicit.” Ann closed her eyes to try to think. All she could remember was the startled look on Renaldo’s face when the whirlwind picked him up. Perhaps he hadn’t had time to say his name.

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“I can’t remember if Renaldo told him who he was before he was whirl-winded away,” said Ann heavily. She sat on the wooden bench. “However, afterward Sir Wulfe knew who he’d just vanished. My father told him.” She folded her arms on the table and put her forehead on her arms. “Well, since Sir Wulfe has promised my mother to fetch Renaldo back, I’ll just have to go after your sister by myself,” said Sylvain. Ann lifted her head. “You’d do that?” He stuffed the letter in his vest pocket. “I’m a prince. I’m supposed to save damsels in distress.” “But, you're a prince! If your brother is missing you're next in line for the throne. You can’t just go off like this. Your parents will never allow it.” He tilted his head, a smile tugging on the corners of his wide mouth. “I may be a prince, but I'm not very important. If anything happens to Renaldo, the next in line is my mother’s brother, one of the princes of Bromley. It’s been the rule since Windtide lost the last war against Bromley and my father had to marry my mother, a princess of Bromley. But that wasn’t the only thing in the peace treaty. My uncles are in line for the throne after Renaldo, not me.” “I didn’t know that.” Ann was indignant. “Will Bromley take over Windtide then?” “I hope not. But it means that ever since I’ve been born, I’ve been a problem. Windtide is far too small a kingdom for two rulers, and as second prince, I’m just about the most useless thing in the kingdom.” “Can’t you learn a trade?” “I have.” His smile reached his eyes now, and Ann realized that before, there had been real sorrow there. She put her hand on his. “Offering to save Leonie is a noble gesture. Thank you.”

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“We should get ready to leave first light,” he said. “Leave? I’m not coming with you,” Ann said. She shook her head. I’d just be in the way.” “You must. I’ll need the help of someone familiar with magic, and you’re a magician’s daughter.” “That doesn’t mean I can do magic.” Sylvain looked flummoxed, then shrugged. “You must know more about it than I do. Sir Wulfe can’t stand between the crown prince and his beloved, even though he claims to be engaged to your sister. We shall go set them free.” His voice had a ring of authority to it that Ann didn’t like one bit. “I’m not going anywhere with you. You’ll just have to go by yourself. Someone has to stay here. Now that my father is not able to help, it’s up to me.” Ann sighed. “There are sick people in the villages who need tending to. I’m sorry.” “I understand, and I admire your sense of duty.” “Well, right now my duty is to do the dishes. If you want, you can dry.” Ann watched Sylvain out of the corner of her eye as she did the dishes. He seemed in high spirits, and even broke into a little song. Ann glowered at him. “Why are you so cheerful? It’s very annoying.” “That’s the first time I’ve ever been scolded for being in good spirits.” He tipped his head back and started singing a ballad. “Lady Ann, take my hand, and hold it to your heart When you smile my spirits lift, I pray we never part. Gillyflowers, roses, bluebells of spring Only your smile makes me want to sing…”

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“Stop it!” Ann dropped her dishcloth and clapped her hands over her ears. His voice was quite pleasing but she hated to be teased. “Lady Ann with golden hair and pretty eyes of blue, When you laugh my heart delights, all I want is you. Gillyflowers, roses, bluebells of spring Only your smile makes me want to sing.” “My eyes are brown, my hair is a horrid orange color, and I want you to stop singing this instant!” Ann cried. Prince Sylvain stopped singing and peered at her. “I’m sorry you don’t enjoy a little music while you work. Thank goodness I didn’t bring all my minstrels. They would have stood right behind us strumming their lutes, playing their flutes, and generally brightening up the atmosphere. You wouldn’t like to lighten up the atmosphere a bit, would you?” “I don’t want to lighten any atmosphere. I just wish Leonie was back here, my father was back to himself, and that you and your brother were somewhere far, far away in Windtide doing whatever it is princes do in their spare time.” “We hunt, fish, play cards, and try to kiss as many pretty girls as possible. What do you think we do? No, don’t answer that. And for your information, spare time is no fun at all. I get bored easily.” “Is that why you’re so cheerful? Because you finally have something useful to do?” His smile slipped. He twisted the dishcloth in his hands, his expression grim. Then he gave a little shrug. “I hadn’t thought of it like that, but you must be right. I feel as if I’m finally doing something useful. Rescuing your sister has given me a goal in life. I never realized just how futile my life has been until now.”

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Ann felt awful. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sure you are very useful, and I’m sure you’ll do many things in your life that will give you satisfaction.” “You’re nice to say that, but it’s true. Since I don’t have any claim to the throne, my parents let me do as I pleased. And I’m afraid that instead of seeking to help others and making their existence kinder, I spent my time hunting and fishing and singing silly songs with my minstrels.” “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” Sylvain took the last plate and dried it. “I will go rescue your sister, I swear it. Nothing will stop me.” He paused and looked pointedly at the leftovers on the table. “Unless I run out of food on the way.” “That’s a strange way to ask for more muffins,” said Ann. But she was glad he was back to his old joking self. “I’ll make sure your saddle bags are full before you leave. How is that?” “Great. I’m sure that with your muffins and my wit and determination, I’ll save your sister in no time.” Ann was going to tell him about Leonie’s wild magic spell, but then she started to laugh and forgot what she was going to say.

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Chapter Seven The Gilded Cage

Leonie closed her eyes and then opened them. No, it wasn’t a bad dream. She was still in the blue bedroom overlooking the lake, and she had reverted back to human form. She had managed to retain her unicorn form long enough for Sir Wulfe to lose his patience completely and shatter most of the glass in his castle. She’d never been so terrified in her life. He’d grabbed her and the whirlwind had picked them up before she could move. Besides, he’d put a still-spell upon her that kept her frozen in place. They’d arrived at his castle, landing in a huge courtyard surrounded by tall yew trees and clipped hedges. The castle towered above them, bigger than anything she’d ever seen, and it seemed a whole troop of servants ran out to greet their master. One had taken his cloak, others had opened the door for him and stood at attention as he led her inside. Still other servants scurried to get him something to drink or eat. He sent them all away with a wave of his hand and had turned to her. “Now, let me lift that spell,” he’d said. She’d held onto it, using all the strength she had. The castle had echoed with his bellows of rage, and then he’d tried to break her. She’d felt the spell coming and she managed to deflect it using her unicorn’s horn. The windows and mirrors in the hallway had exploded and the crash of breaking glass reverberated throughout the castle. But the burst of energy had been too much for her. She felt the unicorn slip away and she came to her senses lying in the hallway surrounded by shards of glass. Sir Wulfe dragged her up the stairs and pushed her into a luxurious room.

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“This is your room, it is fit for a princess,” he’s snapped. “Why can’t you smile and be grateful?” Grateful? He must be kidding. Ann would have said something wonderfully spiteful and sarcastic, but Leonie couldn’t think of anything. She wanted to scream at him, but in her frail, human form she couldn’t risk his wrath. “You have mud in your hair and your dress is a sight. I’ll send your chambermaids to help you bathe. There are new clothes in the wardrobe.” Sir Wulfe pointed to a huge, ornately carved wardrobe, but Leonie only had eyes for the fireplace. Her teeth chattered, and as soon as Sir Wulfe left the room, she limped to the fireplace and knelt in front of it, stretching her hands toward the flames for warmth. After being in the unicorn’s form, her own body felt absurdly delicate and weak. Her legs trembled and her heart crashed against the walls of her chest. The unicorn had been wild and strong. Quicksilver ran in its veins, and its bones and sinews had vibrated with pure energy. It could leap over streams and fences, its eyes saw in the dark, and its horn was a formidable weapon. But its mind had been the most strange and wonderful thing. Nothing human nor animal touched it – untamed as the wind, and clear as rock crystal, it had a thought pattern unique to itself. It sought neither comfort nor company, but instead craved perfect freedom and independence. As a unicorn, she’d not needed anyone, and the lightest touch, even from her beloved Renaldo, had seemed as constraining as iron chains. Now she was human again, weak and needy. She wished she could be both human and unicorn, so that she could find the strength and cunning to escape this place. Someone knocked on the door, and Leonie looked up in time to see two footmen come in carrying a copper tub, followed by at least ten servants with jugs of steaming water. Then came two elderly chambermaids with stern faces, gray hair, and starched aprons. They looked alike

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enough to be twins. The bustle in the room made Leonie feel faint, but she managed to get off her knees and stagger to a chair. She didn’t want to be seen crouching next to the fire like a cindergirl. “All great houses have proper procedure,” said one of the chambermaids, after the tub had been filled and everyone had left. “My name is Jan and this is Merle.” Merle, the other chambermaid, curtseyed. “We are here to serve you.” “I’d rather take my bath alone,” said Leonie. The two women glanced at each other. “We will wait in the hallway. Call us when you are through and we will help you with your dress and hair.” “I don’t need anyone to help me dress.” Leonie wondered how she could escape if there were so many servants around at all times. “Of course you need help dressing. You must learn how to be a real lady.” Merle had a piping voice and black, beady eyes like a black-bird’s. Both women bowed and left the room, and Leonie took her bath, still feeling stunned. At least the water was steaming hot and soothing. While in the tub she took the time to look around her room. Pale blue silk covered the walls, and the bed had a canopy swathed in the same colored silk. The room had a highly polished dark wood floor, but a fine rug of rose and blue tufted wool covered most of it. A large chair sat next to a writing desk, and four lamps of delicately blown glass had been placed on the mantle and on the bedside tables. Candle-sconces on the walls and a gilt-edged mirror completed the decoration. As Sir Wulfe had said, it was fit for a princess. Wrapping a linen towel around her, she went to look out the window. She could make out a wide lake and formal gardens. In the moonlight, a family of regal white swans swam on the black

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water. Her fingers tightened on the sill and she had to bite her lip to stop from crying. She would not cry. She would find a way to escape and get back home, to her family, and to Renaldo. # With the little snake crawling over the books and showing her the spells, Ann managed to charm Cook back to human form. It exhausted her, and she had a blinding headache afterward, but it was a relief to see Cook. She brought Ann hot milk and biscuits in bed and fussed over her like when she was little. She couldn’t revert her father back to his proper form, but that was because Sir Wulfe had cast the spell upon him, and his magic was terribly strong. And, for some reason, she couldn’t revert Bob. So the lop-eared dog stayed in the kitchen, and when Ann went anywhere, he trotted at her heels. Prince Sylvain went to the village to find a sturdy pony for his journey. Sir Wulfe lived a good two week’s ride away, and the weather grew chill as autumn arrived. Ann didn’t mind frost and snow but Leonie was always cold, so Ann asked Sylvain to bring an extra cloak for her, and for a minute she buried her face in the soft flannel lining, hoping her sister was all right and not locked in a cold, dark dungeon. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her face still pressed to the cloak. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t asked Renaldo to meet Leonie that night, this would never have happened.” She raised her head and watched as Sylvain cantered into the courtyard on a pretty brown horse, and she wondered where his brother Renaldo could be, and if Sir Wulfe would really bring him back.

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Chapter Eight Renaldo’s War

Renaldo heard the wind rushing around him. In an instant it picked him up and carried him away. He could do nothing to escape the grip of the whirlwind. It surrounded him, held him in a grasp both insubstantial and unbreakable. Flinging his arms out did no good, it only turned him upside-down. After a while he managed to straighten himself out, and then suffered a moment of paralyzing fear when he looked down. The invisible whirlwind let him see that he flew across plains and rivers, as high as the wild goose flies, and as fast as the wind could blow. In the moonlit night, he watched cities and forests pass beneath him. The land grew barren and a desert spread below him, then mountains grew, springing upwards in jagged cliffs and peaks. The noise of the whirlwind deafened and battered him. He cried out as loudly as he could but his voice was lost in the roaring wind. Then finally, as the sun rose, the whirlwind quieted and deposited him on what looked like the edge of the world, on a spit of rocky land surrounded by wild ocean. Stunned, dizzy, and exhausted, Renaldo stood upon the narrows. For as far as he could see in front and on either side of him, the ocean stretched to infinity. Behind him, the narrow shingle led to a distant, misty shore and he decided to hurry toward it lest the high tide leave him stranded. Waves rose and fell crashing in a white froth upon shiny, round pebbles, and he struggled to keep his feet as the stones rolled and slipped beneath him. Soon Renaldo’s clothes were drenched and his eyes stung with sea-spray. He’d bruised and cut his hands and knees, but he hurried, for

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as he’d surmised, when the tide changed the waves covered the spit and he had to swim the last fifty meters to shore. There, he dragged himself past the waterline and fell in a heap on a bed of sun-warmed sand. Pressing his cheek to the earth, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. He woke up when a foot kicked him on the shoulder. The foot was attached to a leg, attached in turn to a large, surly looking man with a patch over one eye. Sitting up in the sand, Renaldo looked at the man. “Why did you kick me?” “Because I wanted to see if you were alive.” The man shrugged. “Lots of bodies washing up on this beach lately. Must have to do with the war.” “War?” Renaldo got to his feet and brushed the sand off his clothes. “Aye. Doesn’t concern me though. I’m a recruiter, not a fighter. You on the other hand look able enough. And since my mission is to recruit and you have all your arms and legs, I think we’ll get along just fine.” “Now look here, I can’t waste my time...” Renaldo stopped when he saw the man’s saber in his hand. “You were saying?” the man asked, hefting the saber. “I have reconsidered. Where do I sign up?” “Right this way.” The man grinned, his gold tooth glinting. He pointed with his saber and Renaldo led the way down the beach. They crested a rise, and there, on the other side of a narrow isthmus, spread a wide, calm bay with a ship anchored in the middle. “You’ll be thankful I didn’t just leave you to rot on the beach. This is an island, you see. You wouldn’t have gotten far, just walked around in circles for a few weeks before dying of hunger.” Renaldo saw the man was right, and a shiver of relief ran through him. Then he looked closer at the boat. Its sails hung in tatters and its timbers looked half rotted. He hesitated, and felt a

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saber prick his back. “That looks like a loser’s ship,” he said, pointing. “Are you sure you want to recruit me? Maybe I don’t want to choose sides.” “Aye, well, that’s settled then, I’ll choose for you. I’m recruiting for the Kingdom of Alonzo, and we’re fighting against the kingdom of Hidalgo. Used to be all one kingdom, ye know, the kingdom of Querel, but the brothers got into an argument one day and the war has been going on for three years now. We’re running out of volunteers.” Now Renaldo’s feet faltered and the prick on his back grew stronger. “I’d rather try to remain neutral in this fight. Getting caught between feuding brothers is bad policy.” “Can’t do that, lad. I make my living recruiting. The army pays more each year for the new recruits. So tell me, boy, have ye any talents that might come in handy on a ship?” Now Renaldo stopped and turned. “Why?” “Because they pay extra for talent.” The recruiter shrugged. “Well, I did do a bit of sailing last year, and navigation was always easy for me.” Renaldo thought for a minute as he scratched his chin. “Let’s talk business before we go down there. Just how much do you get for recruiting me?” Surprise lit the man’s one eye and he stuck the saber in the sand and leaned on it. “Well now, a pragmatic prisoner. That’s a nice change. I get two gold coins per recruit, and each talent he possesses gets me another gold coin.” “Not bad.” Renaldo lifted his eyebrows. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell the Captain I can sail and navigate, if you give me one gold coin. After all, you’re making a handsome profit on me and my modest talents.” “You’re not serious!” “If you agree, you’ll get three gold coins. If not, you’ll only get two.”

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“Two?” the man sputtered. “But you told me you could sail and navigate, that’s two talents more!” “Only if I agree. Otherwise I’ll deny knowing anything and you’ll only get two coins.” The man pulled his saber from the sand and shook it in front of Renaldo’s face. “That’s not fair! I’ll kill you, how does that sound?” Renaldo shook his head. “I don’t think the army will pay you for a dead sailor, do you? I’m helping you earn another gold coin.” He gave him his most charming grin and said in a wheedling voice. “I’ve no wish to end up skewered on your saber, and you wouldn’t mind earning three gold coins now, would you?” “Well, if you put it that way.” The man pointed to the ship with the tip of his saber. “Go on now, I’m right behind you, and no funny business.” Renaldo sighed deeply. “You have to give me the gold coin now. I don’t suppose you’ll be inclined to give it to me later, and if you don’t give it to me now, I’ll tell the Captain I get seasick.” “You don’t, do you?” The man looked horrified. Renaldo stuck out his hand. “The coin, please.” After he pocketed the gold coin, he walked with a jaunty stride down to the edge of the water where a rowboat lay beached on the sand. “I suppose you’ll be wanting me to row?” “You are a smart fellow. I’ve a feeling you’ll be working your way up in the ranks in no time. Why, t’wouldn’t surprise me to hear you’d been made chief navigator, or even first mate this time next year.” Renaldo tried to look both thrilled and modest. “You’re too kind,” he said, pushing the boat into the water. “After you?”

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“I’ll push off.” The man kept his saber in his hand as he leapt into the boat and settled in the stern. “Go on, put yer back to it, boy.” Obviously he trusted no one, thought Renaldo with some amusement. But despite his easy grin and bantering, he trembled with impatience to be off toward his kingdom and to Leonie. He would get her back, and find some way to reduce Sir Wulfe to a pile of smoking ashes. The man cleared his throat. “You’ve just about broken that oar, lad. Take it easy now. No one’s going to hurt you if you behave.” Renaldo looked up, surprised. “Sorry, I was just thinking about someone.” There was a moment of silence, broken only by the steady splashing of Renaldo’s oars, then the man said with a serious tone. “Take my advice, lad. Forget your thirst for revenge. Whatever happened to you, put it behind you. I’ve seen the look in your eyes before, and it leads to nowhere but sorrow.” Renaldo paused, then resumed rowing. “I can’t. He’s taken my true love and I won’t rest until I get her back.” The man nodded. “Oh, aye, I didn’t think you’d agree just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “But when you do find yourself face to face with your enemy, remember what I said. The lust for vengeance poisons a man’s soul.” “A recruiter and a philosopher.” Renaldo grinned, but his heart wasn’t in it. The ship loomed near and the gold coin in his pocket was all he possessed. Still, he knew how to sail, and navigation came easily to him. And he would find Leonie. He would return to her, whatever road he had to follow… or whatever sea he had to sail. He stowed the oars and grabbed the rope ladder dangling from the side of the boat. “I suppose you’ll be right behind me?” he asked the recruiter. “With my saber pointing up, so make sure you don’t slip, lad,” he said with a laugh.

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Renaldo proved himself an able sailor – so much that he soon rose to a position of responsibility – the assistant chef. True, he knew how to navigate and could tell a mainsail from a jib, but his real talent lay in peeling potatoes. At least, that’s what the cook had told him. So, he sat in the dark kitchen, paring knife in hand, a burlap bag full of potatoes at his feet. “To be sure, I’m a clever fellow to have landed on this ship. It could have been worse, I might have been left to rot on the island. At least here I get food and water, and the work isn’t too hard. We’re sailing south, and my talents for navigation tell me I’m heading in the right direction.” He sighed and tossed a peeled potato in a pot of salted water. That’s when he noticed the mouse. Smaller than the smallest mouse he’d ever seen, the tiny creature looked like a gray, furry walnut with beady, black eyes. “Here, you look hungry,” Renaldo said, tossing it a piece of potato. He had no idea if mice even liked vegetables, but that was all he had until the ship got new supplies. The mouse peered at him from behind the water barrel, then it darted out, grabbed the potato, and dashed back to its shelter. Sitting on its haunches, it nibbled, its little whiskers quivering with what looked like satisfaction. Then it looked at Renaldo and said, “Do you always talk to yourself?” Renaldo nearly dropped the potato he was peeling and gaped at the little mouse. “You… you talk?” “No, you’re hallucinating.” The mouse shrugged. “Of course I talk. Don’t mind me, keep talking. I’ve been lonely.” “Did someone cast a spell on you?” “Why do you ask that? What do you know about magic?” The mouse’s whiskers trembled in agitation.

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“Well, I know enough about mice to know they don’t usually talk. I can’t say I know much about magic, although my true love did get changed into a unicorn by an evil magician.” The mouse looked interested. “Now there’s a story,” he said. He scurried out from behind the water barrel and sat near Renaldo’s bare feet. “Tell me about it.” Renaldo did, and the mouse sat thoughtfully while Renaldo finished peeling the potatoes. Then it spoke up. “Well, I’ll tell you what. You’ve come to the right man or I should say mouse. In reality, I’m a mighty magician. But I tend to lose my temper easily and I challenged a stronger wizard to a duel. The result is yours truly.” He stood on his hind legs and bowed. “I pledge my cause to you, Prince Renaldo.” “Just Renaldo is fine by me. I am assistant cook here, not royalty, and besides, I don’t think I want my identity known. My companions might take it in their heads to hold me for ransom.” “The more value you have in their eyes, the better they will treat you,” the mouse pointed out. “True. But I’d rather stay incognito a while longer and be just the assistant cook.” Renaldo gave the mouse a crooked grin. “At any rate, I have to go to topside to cook the potatoes.” “What about my offer to help?” Renaldo didn’t think the mouse could help him, but he didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “I’ll let you know if I find a plan,” he said. “Good, I was getting tired of staying on this ship.” The little mouse waved then skipped back to its hiding place.

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Chapter Nine A Twisted Spell

“Lady Leonie, I hope you will be kind enough to join me this evening at eight to dine.” Sir Wulfe always spoke politely. “Thank you, Sir Wulfe, I’ll be there at eight.” Leonie too remained polite. She waited until she was sure he’d left his castle. Then she went to the kitchens. She’d found solace in the simple chores the cooks gave her. At first they wouldn’t hear of her helping, but she insisted, and finally they gave in and let her peel the apples, cut carrots, and tend to the salads and vegetables. There was something comforting in the earthy scent of a leek, or in the creamy skin of a parsnip. Apples reminded her of home, although the kitchens in Sir Wulfe’s castle were far grander than her kitchen had been. Bustling about the kitchen here were the head cook, his two assistants, a scullery maid, and a waiter. The cook always made sure she tied an apron around her waist, so as not to dirty her elegant robe. She had the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen. Every day the governess brought her another fine gown. Fresh flowers filled her room, she had a piano and a harp to play, and a tutor for dancing, singing and painting. She even had a horse at her disposition for riding. None of those things interested her in the slightest. She had no interest in gowns. The hothouse flowers were lovely, but she loved the meadow flowers in the fields better. She knew how to play the piano and the harp, but her fingers blundered on the chords and her heart wasn’t light enough for music, dancing or painting. Her songs were melancholy, and so she didn’t play. As for riding, she liked the horse, it was a pretty

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chestnut mare with a sweet disposition, but she’d never ridden before and there was no one to teach her. The only thing she wanted was to be allowed to walk in the woods. Since turning into a unicorn, she had an almost frantic yearning to go to the forest. But Sir Wulfe wouldn’t hear of it. “Until you marry me, you must stay in the confines of the castle, the courtyard, the stables, and the meadow. Everything else is out of bounds. If you try to go anywhere else I shall know about it instantly and fetch you back with a whirlwind. I can be anywhere in minutes, so don’t try my patience or my hospitality.” He had spoken softly, but there was steel behind his words, and Leonie knew someone watched her constantly. Even her dreams were filled with eyes. She bided her time. There was always a doorway, an opportunity, a chink in the defenses. She would wait, she would never give in, and she would never bend to his will. The winter solstice seemed far, even as the first storms of autumn tore the leaves from the trees. # Leonie watched as a storm swept across the heavens. Lightning flashed and crackled, and thunder boomed, shaking the castle. In her room, the candles flickered as a window flew open. With a rustle of silk, she ran to close it, but not before the wind blew the candles out. In the gloom she leaned her forehead against the cold windowpane. Her fingers tightened on the windowsill as she stared at the glowering sky reflected in the choppy waters of the lake. A sudden movement caught her eye, and she peered through the rain-washed glass as two horses and a rider galloped over the drawbridge and into the courtyard. The rider got off his horse, his face shadowed by his hood. Seeming to ignore the slashing rain, he stood in the middle of the courtyard, in a puddle, and stared at the castle. Then he strode to the front door, where he was lost from Leonie’s sight. His two ponies, left to themselves, started munching on the hedges near the bridge.

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Curious, Leonie left her room and made her way to the top of the stairs to see who had come. She arrived just as the butler opened the door and a figure stepped into the hall. The figure flung off his sopping cloak and became a young man with dark hair and flashing green eyes. Leonie blinked. There was something familiar about the young man. “I want to see the magician.” The young man spoke with authority, and – Leonie gasped – Renaldo’s voice! He sounded just like Renaldo! The butler looked at the puddle beneath the young man’s feet and sniffed loudly. “Sir Wulfe is in the study. I will go fetch him. Please wait here.” Leonie hurried down the stairs just as the butler disappeared down the hallway. The young man watched her, his eyes growing wider as she approached. His mouth opened, but before he could say a word, she grabbed his hand and dragged him back outside into the pouring rain. “Get on your horse and get out of here!” Leonie shrieked, pushing him toward his pony. The young man gaped at her. “I am the Prince Sylvain, Renaldo’s brother, and I have come to rescue you.” “I don’t need rescuing. I’ll escape by myself. If you are caught, he’ll turn you into a… a… something horrible. So get out of here now!” The young man didn’t budge. Instead, his expression turned stubborn and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t come all the way here to turn around and run away again.” His words barely left his mouth before Leonie caught his pony’s reins and shoved them into his hands. Rain plastered her hair to her face and her silk dress clung in freezing folds to her arms and legs. She had but two thoughts. Get the foolish prince away from the magician, and go change her clothes. A clap of thunder deafened her, and she shouted to be heard over the storm. “Leaving is just what you’re going to do.”

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“Never!” he shouted. “I have to find my brother. Is he here? Has Sir Wulfe brought him back from wherever he sent him?” Leonie felt a stab of pain at his words. She shook her head. “No, he’s not here. I don’t dare ask about him anymore. Every time I do, he flies into an awful rage. Please leave now, I beg you.” “Where is Renaldo then?” “I don’t know.” She faltered and looked in fright at the castle. “Please, you must believe me. Your brother is safe, I’m sure. Sir Wulfe would not dare harm him. But he is far away, and I don’t know where he is. Now, leave, I beg you.” The prince wiped rain out of his eyes and said, “Sir Wulfe turned your father into a snake.” “I know, I was there. How do you know that? Have you been to Castle Veil? Where is Ann?” “She stayed at home to take over your father’s tasks. She’s tending to the villages in the area and doing a good job. She’s managed to cast a few spells and she makes excellent muffins. I came to rescue you and to find Renaldo, and I won’t leave until I’ve done that.” Leonie took a step backward. Her thoughts flew like leaves in a storm. “How is my father?” she said, taking another step back. Her foot splashed in a puddle. And at that moment she heard the front door open. Without hesitation or turning to look, she darted into the nearest bush, thankful for the storm that bent the trees, and rain that obscured the view. “What do you want, young man?” Prince Sylvain, startled, whirled at Sir Wulfe’s loud voice. He hesitated, then said, “I seek lodging for the night. I was passing this way and got caught in the storm. Your castle was nearby, so I turned my horse this way.” “I can hardly turn you away in this storm,” the wizard said dryly.

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“Your hospitality is much appreciated.” Prince Sylvain pointed toward his mount. “Where may I put my horse?” “The stables are around the back. You’ll find spare stalls and hay in the loft.” “Thank you, sir. I can sleep in the stables, they will be dry and fine enough shelter for me.” Sir Wulfe frowned. “That won’t be necessary. Dinner is in one hour. The butler will show you to a room and draw you a bath first so that you may warm up and get into dry things.” “Your kindness is much appreciated.” Prince Sylvain took the horse, leading it around the corner of the house without a glance in Leonie’s direction. Leonie huddled in the bushes until the front door closed, then she crept up the stairs and leaned against it, listening carefully. When she was sure no one was in the hall, she eased the door open and slipped inside. Then she hurried up the stairs. The silk clung to her, and she had to struggle to pull her dress off. By the time she got changed, she was shaking with chills. She looked for a warm shawl, but all she had were gowns. They were beautiful, but made of delicate silks or satins, and none kept her warm. It had occurred to her that Sir Wulfe gave her these flimsy clothes to discourage her from running away. She would freeze to death outside before a single day passed. Shivering, she huddled by her fireplace, adding more logs until she finally felt the heat of the flames. Before she was completely thawed out, the dinner bell rang. Sir Wulfe hated tardiness. He’d told her sternly that he would not tolerate it. Perversely, she began showing up late. He didn’t say another word about it. The last time she showed up late for dinner, he’d simply locked her in her room for three days. She missed her father’s way of punishing her. At least being changed into an animal was instructive and never boring. Being locked in a room without books or music nearly drove her out of her mind. Now she was careful to get to the dining room on time.

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She arrived at the same time as Sir Wulfe. He bowed. She curtsied. Then she took her place, to his right. A third place had been set directly across the table from her. Prince Sylvain arrived, his hair still damp, but dressed in a clean, dry tunic. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” said Sir Wulfe to his guest, motioning to the servant to pour some wine. “My name is Sylvain and I’m a horse dealer and riding instructor,” he said, quaffing his wine. “What a fine castle you have, Sir. I’m afraid I didn’t get your name either.” He smiled brightly. “Or that of your lovely daughter.” Sir Wulfe choked on his wine, and Leonie held her breath, waiting for him to change Sylvain into a mouse for his impertinence. But he simply cleared his throat and said, “I am Sir Wulfe, wizard to the king of this country. The young woman is my betrothed, the Lady Leonie.” Sylvain feigned confusion, but Leonie saw the spark of mischief in his eyes. Now what was he up to? “How awkward of me. Please accept my apologies. I have been known to speak before thinking.” He smiled disarmingly. Sir Wulfe scowled at the prince, but said civilly enough, “No harm done.” He turned to the waiter and said sharply, “Can we be served now? I have been out all day and I’m famished.” The waiter bowed and hurried toward the kitchens. “So, what sort of work do you as a magician? I’ve always been curious, but never had the chance to speak to one face to face.” Sylvain added. “Haven’t you ever been ill?” Sir Wulfe asked. “Rarely. And when I am ill, I take large doses of dandelion tea. I find it helps me get back on my feet in no time. Besides, there are villages, as you must know, that don’t take kindly to magicians. I’m afraid I was raised in one of those backwoods places.” He spoke blithely.

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Sir Wulfe frowned. “You don’t speak in the manner of a peasant.” “Quite right, sir. My mother married beneath her, as she never let my poor father forget. She insisted we be tutored by sages. My brother and I were the laughingstock of our village. I left as soon as I could.” The incorrigible prince shrugged. Leonie’s admiration grew for the young man, but she still feared Sir Wulfe’s wrath if he ever discovered the prince’s deception. But Sir Wulfe seemed to believe the prince, for he launched into a detailed account of what a wizard did. Leonie, who knew it all by heart, being the daughter of a magician, turned her thoughts elsewhere. She couldn’t help wondering about her sister. She missed her terribly. “Excuse me?” Leonie blinked. Sir Wulfe was staring at her and he looked quite cross. “I said, magicians were the most important servants in the kingdom, don’t you agree?” Leonie hated questions; even simple ones like this one were fraught with hidden meaning. Was a wizard important? Yes, of course, but to say that they were the most important was… diplomatic, she decided, catching Sir Wulfe’s irritated stare. “Why, yes, of course they are,” she stammered, wringing her hands in her lap. Questions always put her in a panic, and Sir Wulfe wasn’t finished, unfortunately. “And what, in your experienced opinion, is a magician’s most important task?” Leonie quailed. Another quiz. There were so many jobs a wizard had to do. Tending the sick seemed to her to be the most important occupation, but would Sir Wulfe agree? There were the chickens that wouldn’t lay – a wizard was always handy to set that right. And sometimes crops needed magic to rid them of blight. Magicians also knew how to divine water and could find fresh springs. They predicted the weather, and could sometimes see glimpses of the future in their crystal balls. There were many mechanical jobs too – her father was always inventing something to make life easier for the people in the villages. Why, just last winter he’d perfected a blanket

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that you could heat near the fire and it stayed warm all night long. She’d had one of those at home and she missed it dreadfully. Magicians did so many jobs, how could she choose? “Well?” he thundered. She flinched and her mind grew blank, as it always did when someone pressed her. “Answer me! Are you being insolent?” Leonie couldn’t utter a word. “Sir, I think she’s just shy,” said Prince Sylvain. His voice had lost all of its lightness and he spoke in earnest. Sir Wulfe looked at him and his eyes narrowed. “You don’t know her, you just met her. How can you say she’s shy? Why are you defending her? Have you fallen in love with her?” Sylvain looked shocked, but he couldn’t seem to say the word ‘No’. It made Sir Wulfe clench his fists and say, “Well? Answer me!” “Just leave her alone. You’re upsetting her.” Sylvain looked at her with the strangest expression, and Leonie felt her mouth go dry. “Stay out of this!” Sir Wulfe lost his patience and pounded on the table. He looked at Leonie and said, “Now I see what your father meant, and why he had to change you into bird or beast whenever he had guests.” Leonie felt the blood drain from her face. How could he say that? But the fact was, each time she’d been transformed had seemed to coincide with some visit or another. But why? Why had he done such a thing? She opened her mouth and blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Chickens,” she cried, pressing backwards into her chair and wishing she could flee. “Magicians make chickens out of sparrows so that the poor have eggs.”

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Sir Wulfe’s face grew purple. “Chickens!” he rumbled. “Chickens? I’ll show you a chicken.” He pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at her, and she felt a wave of powerful magic surround her. Transformation magic! Instead of pounding in fear, her heart sang. She closed her eyes and seized the magic, bending it to her will and using it to change her blood and bones into something both divinely fragile and superbly strong. Her body quivered and her mind, which had been cowed, grew bright and fearless. Music seemed to vibrate in her bones, and a crystal-clear joy infused her spirit. Her legs and arms changed, her whole body seemed made of light. She was human no more, she was free, she was a unicorn! She whirled on her hind legs and cleared the table in a bound. Lowering her head, she transpierced the huge bay window with her horn, shards of glass exploding into the night. She shot out of the castle and fled along the lake shore. The cold didn’t bother her any longer, nor did the rain or the storm. Lightning flashed, and she uttered a wild neigh. Free, she was free! She plunged into the forest as if diving into her safe, warm bed. The forest bent itself around her protectively, as forests are wont to do when inhabited by a unicorn. For a unicorn is a forest’s most treasured creature, and each tree and shrub pledged itself to her well-being. Leonie left her humanity behind – her fragile, clumsy humanity – and melted into the forest like a snowflake into a blizzard. # Sylvain gaped at the empty chair, at the shattered window, and then at the magician, whose face had twisted into a gargoyle mask of fury. “Sir, you… you.” Sylvain shook his head to clear it. “You transformed your betrothed into a unicorn.”

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The wizard pounded the table with his fist, causing the glasses to fall and break. “I did no such thing. She turned my magic against me. How is it possible?” he raged. “I never meant to change her into a unicorn.” “And yet you did.” “I swear I did not,” snarled the magician. “You said you trained horses. Well, an equine specialist is just what I need. If you fetch that creature back, I’ll give you whatever I can within my powers. Do you understand?” Sylvain opened his mouth then shut it. What choices did he have? He could return to his home without his brother. That would not satisfy anyone. On the other hand, he had to find out where Renaldo was. That question still remained to be answered. He’d also sworn to save Leonie. He sighed, undecided. His promise came first. Sir Wulfe had promised his mother he would return Renaldo to Windtide. Perhaps it had already been done. “Well?” The wizard frowned. “Surely a man in your position has never had an offer such as mine?” “No,” Sylvain admitted. “I’ve never had such an offer.” He sighed. He would stay and try to find the unicorn. Perhaps that way, he would find out what happened to his brother. “Very well, I accept.” He hesitated and then asked, “I don’t suppose you have an idea how to catch a unicorn?” The wizard snorted. “Only those pure of heart can capture a unicorn. Or one whose intentions are noble. If you cannot fit that bill, I suggest you seek someone who can help you. And do it fast – before the winter solstice. After that, all deals are off.”

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Chapter Ten The Fugitive

Night had never worried Leonie. She didn’t fear the dark. As a unicorn, the darkness bothered her even less. Her senses were so keen that she could hear the owl floating on its silent wings and see the subtle paths the hare took through the forest. The whispering of mice and the mumble of the hare filled her ears. She turned her head, looking from side to side. She could see the hare crouched between the roots of an oak tree, his soft lips fluttering as he dozed. Three mice huddled for warmth beneath a clump of winter ivy. None of the animals noticed her as she passed. She moved like a shadow across the ground; she wore darkness like a cloak. The rain slackened and stopped, and the clouds parted, letting the moonlight filter through the nearly bare trees. Silvery light etched the grass and the tree bark, and outlined the branches. Moonlight glowed off white mushroom caps and glittered off the raindrops trembling on leaves. Leonie made her way into the heart of the forest. She couldn’t tell how long she walked. Perhaps hours, perhaps even days; for her, the deepest night was now light as a cloudy day, and rain fell but didn’t seem to wet her coat. She stopped in a patch of sunlight, or was it moonlight? She didn’t care. It made no difference. The forest embraced her. A clearing by a spring became her home. For some reason, when she decided to live there, the trees around it stopped losing their leaves and sprouted new ones. Grass grew – soft, sweet, and young – and violets and primroses bloomed in the shade. Sunlight and moonlight dappled the clearing, and Leonie found she needed nothing to eat, but had only to drink the crystal clear spring water to survive.

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She never knew hunger or cold. The clearing became a unicorn haven, and other creatures came to spend time in the everlasting springtime, so she was never lonely. Not really. She had been a squirrel at one point, and a sparrow and a rabbit, so she could relate to those animals. Deer sometimes came, shaking the frost off their tiny hoofs before stepping onto her carpet of spring grass. Leonie looked forward to all the visits. Sometimes an animal came that was sick or wounded, and with her horn she could heal it. She felt, for the first time in her life, useful. And when she was tired, she would curl up between the mossy roots of the old oak tree, lay her head on her knees, and doze. She couldn’t sleep, because sleep brought her dreams and her dreams troubled her. So she dozed, and that seemed to be enough for her. Just as the spring water was all she needed to sip, so short naps seemed all she needed to rest. But some days a strange restlessness filled her. Thoughts of a tall young man with flame colored hair would plunge her into a deep melancholy. She could no longer recall his name. Her own name too sometimes eluded her. Had she ever had a family or lived anywhere else? She didn’t recall, or when she did, the memories were misty and indistinct. The rain fell, the moon rose, and in the unicorn clearing, a carpet of bluebells echoed the sky. # In the ship’s hold, the noise of cannons firing was deafening. Renaldo, assistant cook, had also been recruited into the artillery unit on the battleship. So far, they’d been in six skirmishes, and each one had ended with them victorious. This was the seventh, and things weren’t faring as well. Renaldo grabbed a barrel of gunpowder and lugged it up the narrow ladder to the mid-deck, where the cannons were. Heat shimmered off the iron, and smoke obscured the view. The ceiling was so low he had to stoop, the stench of burning gunpowder, hair, and skin stung his nose and

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throat. Renaldo shouldered his way past sweating artillery soldiers to his cannon. He set the powder down and wrenched the lid off, cutting his thumb on the sharp copper ring holding the lid down. Cursing, he lifted out the paper package holding the dose of gunpowder for the cannon. Each barrel of powder held fifteen doses. This was his second barrel. He shoved the packet into the cannon mouth and packed the powder. He’d had a second to help him, but early in the battle a stray bullet had felled him, and now he worked his cannon by himself. He packed the powder as tightly as possible. Leaning down, he opened the case containing the cannon balls. They were heavy, and his hands were slick with blood and sweat. Carefully he lifted one and let it roll into the cannon’s mouth. It hit the packed powder with a thud. Renaldo didn’t stop to admire his work or check out what his neighboring artillery soldiers were doing. Load, fire, load, fire. That was all he did. He didn’t even aim. It was useless to think of aiming. The cannons were lashed tightly to their moorings, their snouts facing out a square window. He raised his arm and the igniter came running, carrying an iron rod heated white-hot. Renaldo stepped out of the way, and the igniter shoved the rod down the hole in the back of the cannon. The deafening explosion as the gun fired merged with the other cannons spitting their ammunition toward the enemy ship. Renaldo didn’t stop to watch the cannon balls skipping across the water to smash or miss the other ship. He grabbed another packet of gunpowder. At that moment, a cannon ball hit his ship. There had been other hits. Many, in fact; and the worst damage came not from the hurtling iron or stone balls, but from the wood that splintered and flew like daggers. This cannon ball hit the ship and a shower of sharp splinters exploded.

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Renaldo threw himself flat, thus saving his hide. His head ringing from the noise, a trickle of blood running from his ear, Renaldo managed to open his eyes and take stock of the damage. He’d survived, but others around him were less lucky. The igniter stood, eyes blank with shock, as his shirt turned crimson. Before Renaldo could get to his feet and catch him, the poor igniter, still clutching his metal rod, toppled to the floor. Fire bloomed from the tip, sizzling along a path of powder someone had dribbled upon the floor. The powder led to a keg, and before Renaldo’s stunned mind could order his legs to run, the keg burst with a noise like a thunderclap, and three cannons and Renaldo were blown out to sea. He never lost consciousness. He managed to grasp a floating spar, and he watched, his face wet with salt spray and tears, as the boat he’d been on heeled violently over and sank in a frothing swirl of smoke, flapping sails, and splintering masts. Three mighty waves rose up where the boat had been and crashed down in a deafening roar. The roar was echoed from the enemy ship, as the sailors threw their hats into the air and cheered hoarsely. Then, because it was war, and because war, no matter how absurd, had its own rules, they lowered the lifeboats and started to cull the waves for their enemies. In the cold water, Renaldo waited, resigned, as the boats approached. He had been thrown clear by the explosion, so he was relatively unscathed. Even the mouse in his pocket still lived. Half drowned, spitting and coughing, the mouse sat on Renaldo’s shoulder and cursed as fluently as any sailor. “Now will you tell them your true identity?” the mouse asked with a sneeze. “Have you had your fill of fighting?” Renaldo clutched the spar tightly, his knuckles whitening with the effort. “That’s not the reason I said nothing. I have no stomach for fighting, I hate it. But….”

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“But what? Why won’t you tell them your name and let them ransom you so you can go home?” But he wouldn’t, and he didn’t tell the mouse the real reason. He’d become friends with some of the other soldiers. They’d talked of important things, like the color of their wives’ eyes, or the height of corn at this time of year. Some of his comrades had fretted, wondering if their children would forget them, if their farms were being cared for in their absence, or if their shops still opened in the morning and did business all day long. Little pieces of life had been offered to him. Hopes, fears, dreams, and jokes had been traded in that ship. The igniter had been a lad named Joffrey. He’d been the eldest of thirteen children, and the stories of his siblings’ antics had amused Renaldo, being alone with just Sylvain. Joff, as they’d called him, hadn’t gone to school, but he knew more jokes by heart than anyone, and he’d never been without a smile. He’d miss Joffrey. Even if they hated it, the other men had to fight. They couldn’t claim a title or a kingdom and escape the war. Instead, they had to follow orders. Why was he different? He rested his forehead on the spar and wished his head would stop aching. Maybe that would help him make a decision. But in his heart, he knew what his decision would be. He was staying with his comrades. Suddenly his head felt strangely light, and his fingers began to slip from the spar of wood. “Hang on, there’s a boat coming now.” The little mouse jumped up and down on Renaldo’s shoulder and waved. Renaldo’s vision darkened. “Has night fallen?” he asked the mouse. “No. Keep your eyes open. Oh Renaldo! I say, stay awake! Over here, over here! Help us! Over here!” The mouse’s shrill voice was the last thing Renaldo heard before he slipped into the icy water and sank.

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Chapter Eleven The War of the Twin Princes

The search for Leonie had been going on for five days now. Each day, Sylvain rode in a different direction, but always came back to Sir Wulfe’s castle at night. Sylvain lodged in the stables, in a small room above his horses’ stalls. In the evenings, he studied the maps the wizard had of the surrounding countryside, since he didn’t know this kingdom very well. The king of Querel was an ally of his father’s, that much he knew. Right now, Querel was enmeshed in a nasty civil war which had started when the two crown princes had each laid claim to ruling the kingdom. Sylvain had heard of the war, who hadn’t? But the results of the war had been tragic so far. Farms lay fallow, forest reclaimed fields, and a pall hung over the land. Sylvain saw this as he rode out each day. At night, in the magician’s dining room, he spoke to the wizard about it. “Forgive my ignorance, but isn’t there any way to put an end to the war between the princes?” The wizard shook his head. “The kingdom is divided. I have dealings only with the old king. He still rules this small part of the land, but his sons have taken over the rest. Each young man decided to raise and army and attack his brother. “There were some people for one prince, and others who preferred his brother. In the beginning, everyone thought the war would end quickly. But you see, every time a soldier dies on one side, his family revolts against the side of the prince who killed him. In this way, whole cities have started to fight each other. Even in the countryside and in small villages the strife has separated friend and family alike as more and more people die, and more and more families grieve and want vengeance.” The wizard shook his head, an expression of frustration on his face.

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“Can you do anything to stop this? Surely with your powers…” Sir Wulfe silenced him with a wave of his hand. “My powers don’t include making miracles, but I’m trying. I thought to unite the kingdom in a wedding ceremony. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me, but I’m popular with both sides. I organized a huge wedding and invited dignitaries from the two armies. Both princes agreed to come to my wedding, and they haven’t met face to face for over three years. It was the first glimmer of hope for this kingdom in ages.” “So it is important I find your betrothed.” Sylvain hesitated, then boldly said, “Sir Wulfe, does she want to marry you? Why did she flee?” The wizard sighed. “She fell in love with another.” Bile rose, stinging Sylvain’s throat, but he managed to shrug and say, “Does she care for you at all?” “She has known me since she was a child, and though she does not care for me, I admit to hoping she would come to appreciate me. When I saw her, I was struck by her beauty, but more than that, her goodness. She is pure of heart, and I count on her to appease the war between the princes. I am sure that she will be able to somehow bring them together.” “But how?” Sylvain shook his head. Sir Wulfe leaned forward. “What did you think when you first saw her?” That was easy. Sylvain would never forget his first sight of her as she came down the stairs in the rainstorm. His thoughts had fled. He couldn’t think of a thing, except about the lovely woman standing before him. She’d chased everything else from his mind. His brother, the storm, his cold feet, everything had faded into nothing compared to her. A sort of warmth emanated from her, and at the dinner table, he’d had the most absurd urge to protect her. “I wanted her to smile,” Sylvain admitted.

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The wizard nodded. “She has a certain charm, and it entrances everyone. When the two princes see her, they will…” He paused, then said, “They will start communicating with each other again.” “But if she has no wish to marry you, why force her?” Sylvain paused when he caught sight of the magician’s furious glare. “Begging your pardon, sir.” “She is a young, easily influenced maiden. She will do as I say, and everything will be fine. The two princes will meet and sign a truce… with my urging. And the people shall acclaim me as their benefactor. The king does as I say. And when the two princes are under my power they will do my bidding as well.” “Do your bidding?” Sylvain suddenly felt very uncomfortable. The wizard quaffed more wine; his fifth glass, Sylvain noted. There was an awkward pause, then, “Of course, I mean to bid them to make peace,” the wizard hastened to add. Sylvain kept his voice light. “Ah, I see.” But something sounded wrong in the magician’s words. Or perhaps it was the crafty look that gleamed in his eyes. “Will the two princes rule together then?” The wizard looked at his empty glass and sighed. “How can two rulers rule at once? They would spend their time bickering, especially after they see Leonie.” He coughed and said, “I mean, they will not be able to put aside their quarrel unless there is but one ruler.” “Will their father, the king, choose between them?” Sylvain prodded. “Perhaps.” The tall, dark green candles in the center of the table sputtered and wavered as they neared the end of their wicks. The hour was late. In the doorway a servant stood, waiting for the wizard to

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leave before clearing the table. Outside, night had deepened and delicate arabesques of frost covered the windows. “Good night, sir.” Sylvain stood, intending to leave. “Why does she hate me so?” The magician’s words stopped him in his tracks. Sylvain turned. “Hate you?” “Yes. She hates me. I felt it when she was here. She’s known me for years, so why does she hate me? I would go to her father’s house, sometimes just to see her. Yet she met a prince, just once did she meet him, and she closed her heart to anyone else but him.” “A prince?” Sylvain held his breath, waiting for more information, but the magician just pounded his fist on the table, knocking over a candelabra. Melted wax spattered across the snowwhite, damask tablecloth, dotting it with green. Sylvain blinked. Snow. Green. Spring green and winter snow. A unicorn in the forest. He lifted his gaze to the magician. “I don’t think she’s capable of hating anyone,” he said. Sir Wulfe didn’t seem to hear him. “She would sit in her room looking out her window, and though her words were polite, they were laced with disdain, as if I were nothing but a wretched fool.” “The wine has made you maudlin,” said Sylvain, righting the candelabra and setting the candlesticks back in their places. His fingers sank into the hot wax. “The tablecloth is ruined.” “She abhors me, but it matters not. I love her. We will wed at the winter solstice, and she will become my bride.” “Love?” Sylvain picked at a bit of wax with his fingernail. “I think you misunderstand the meaning of that word. If you loved her, you would want her to be happy, not cold and silent at your side.”

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Silence, deep as a well, settled between them. Sylvain concentrated on peeling the wax off the tablecloth. The only light came from the torches set in the doorway, and from the pale moon shining through the window, so that shadows lay in tangles on the white tablecloth. Everything had two shadows, one from firelight and one from moonlight. Only the wizard had none, sitting as he was in shadow. But his eyes glittered and he stirred. “It matters not if she is happy. She will unite the kingdom. At winter solstice, everything will be in place. The princes, the king, the right people will be here… Everyone is coming here for the wedding. And they will see Leonie.” “Leonie,” Sylvain echoed. “Everything depends on you, young man. A horse trader will be a national hero here in Querel. Everyone will acclaim you, and you will be among the guests of honor at the wedding feast.” Sir Wulfe flung his arm wide, narrowly missing the wine carafe. “It’s late. I bid you good night, sir.” Sylvain left, passing in front of the silent servant. He nodded to the man, who nodded back. The servants in Sir Wulfe’s castle rarely spoke except to their master, and Sylvain was sure they were all transformations like Ann’s servants had been. What kind of man surrounds himself with enchantments instead of real people? Sylvain wondered, as he lay in his bed in the stables, listening to the soft sounds his horses made in their stalls below him. In the back of his mind he saw a green clearing in the midst of a white, frost spangled forest. “A unicorn glade,” he breathed. The next day, Sylvain packed his camping gear and took both horses with him. He stopped at the castle long enough to get supplies for one week, and told Sir Wulfe’s butler that he would be gone for a while. “Don’t expect me back for at least a week,” he said to the dour man standing at the front door. “I shall tell Sir Wulfe, never fear.”

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Sylvan rode into the forest and let his horse have its head. “Go where you wish,” he said to the animal. His horse flicked his ears, then ambled slowly along a leaf-strewn trail. Autumn was nearly over. The trees stretched bare branches to the pewter sky, and rabbits and deer wore thick coats of fur. Sylvain knew his horses would be pulled toward the unicorn haven. The scent of spring would come to their nostrils. A hint of fresh grass would act as a lure. Tomorrow or the next day, or even the next, his horses would catch the faint scent of springtime. They would raise their heads and their nostrils would flare. A green, eager look would come into their eyes and their steps would be lighter. He let the reins loose on his horse’s neck and settled back in the saddle. He was glad of his warm cloak, for it was chilly and his breath made white clouds in the air. That night he built a fire, and both he and the horses huddled around it. All night long he tossed branches on the fire, keeping the cold at bay. When dawn came, he broke ice on a frozen stream and heated water for tea and for washing. His horses crunched on the oats in their feedbags, then when they finished, drank deeply in the stream. That was all they would get until the evening. Sylvain counted on their hunger. It would sharpen the horse’s senses and lead them to the unicorn haven.

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Chapter Twelve The One-Legged Prince

“Oh, lad! Wake up!” Renaldo opened his eyes. They hurt. In fact, everything hurt. His whole body felt battered and sore. He didn’t recognize the man bending over him, but he recognized his rank: a wizard medic, with a surgeon’s vest and silver pin. “Am I in a hospital ward?” “You are.” The doctor patted him on the shoulder. “How do you feel, son?” “Not very well.” Renaldo tried to sit up, but he had no strength at all and his whole body ached. The doctor put his hand on his shoulder. “Lie still. You’re safe now. This is a hospital ward, and no fighting is allowed here. You can relax. My name is Sir Yarlly, and I am in charge.” Renaldo glanced around, but his bed lay behind drawn curtains, and he could see nothing but the ceiling. It was painted yellow, and the color cheered him up for a moment. The doctor saw his glance and nodded. “It’s a jolly color, isn’t it? This is usually the children’s ward, but the war has made it hard to find free beds.” Renaldo fingered the sheets, which were smooth linen. Even the curtains around his bed were made from butter-yellow cotton with small fairy-bears embroidered on them. He thought of his own country. The hospitals were plain, though the wizard medics competent. But a children’s ward was a new idea. As soon as he got home, he’d make sure Windtide hospital had one. “Tell me, son, can you remember your name, and where you are from?”

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Renaldo hesitated. Should he say anything? Well, why not? “I can. My name is Renaldo and I’m from Windtide.” The wizard didn’t look surprised. He nodded. “And you’re a prince, if I’m not mistaken.” “How did you know?” “You had a mouse in your pocket. He was wet, but not drowned, and has a rather unusual talent.” “Oh. The talking mouse. Where is he?” “Off in another ward. He’ll be back soon, I imagine. He’s quite a character and the patients are fond of him. He’s taken it upon himself to be a sort of entertainer.” The wizard chuckled. “I wish there were more like him around. At any rate, he told us who you were, and how you came to be on the ship fighting. It caused quite a stir in diplomatic circles, I can assure you.” Renaldo sighed and plucked at the covers. “I supposed messages have been sent.” “Yes. The Crow Callers have been rather busy.” The wizard medic paused. “Your Highness, there is something I need to tell you. When you came to us, your wounds were serious.” “How serious?” “Your leg, most of all, had been wounded.” “I don’t really remember.” Renaldo frowned. “I recall waking up in water, I think I floated a while. Then everything goes dark. Did I break my leg?” “Yes, it was broken in several places and badly lacerated. We tried very hard, but I’m afraid we were unable to save it. I’m sorry, Your Highness.” An icy trickle ran down Renaldo’s back. “What are you talking about?” “Your leg has been amputated just below the knee. I’m…” “My leg? Gone? It can’t be true!” His head rang with every heart beat. “But I can feel it!” Renaldo tried to sit up again, and groped down his thigh, reaching for his leg.

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“No, it’s just your brain refusing to face the truth.” The wizard medic sighed. “You were lucky, your knee is still intact and a sculptor can easily make you another leg with some strong wood when you’ve healed. You can learn to walk with crutches once you are restored to health.” Eyes closed, Renaldo reached downwards. He slid his hand over his knee and met a thick bandage. The flesh beneath it felt tender, swollen, and achy. His fingers twitched, then, trembling, he reached further down. The sheet suddenly flattened and his hand met the mattress. Horror iced his blood and bones, quickly replaced by the realization that he was alive, while so many others had perished. Renaldo opened his eyes and stared at the medic. “How long have I been here?” “Almost two weeks.” Another shock. Renaldo lay still, trying to digest everything; the loss of his leg, the fact that his identity had been found out. The doctor had said they’d informed his parents. The diplomats must have been relieved to let his mother and father know where he was. “I suppose my parents have sent an escort for me.” “Not yet. You’re to assist at the royal wedding. Your parents sent word. You will represent the kingdom of Windtide.” “Wedding?” Renaldo echoed. The medic beamed. “That’s right. Things are looking brighter for Querel. The two princes have agreed to meet at winter solstice and assist at the marriage of their official court magician. Everyone is praying that they will make a treaty and cease their fighting. Their father has already drawn up several different treaties for them to consider. It’s the first time the princes have stopped their quarrelling and have agreed to meet.

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“Hope once more lives in our hearts, and it is rumored that the bride, a young woman from your own kingdom, is the most beautiful woman in the world. Sir Wulfe, her betrothed, is…Why, what is it? Are you all right?” Renaldo felt his breath leave his chest. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes. “Leonie? No!” he cried, and in a second, the world spun out of focus and grew dark.

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Chapter Thirteen The Wedding Invitation

Prince Renaldo lay in his bed and watched the clouds through the window. No one could ease his misery. As the days passed, diplomats had tried to speak to him, jugglers had tried to amuse him, and doctors had tried to reason with him, but Renaldo ignored them. Then one day, as the wedding approached, trumpets sounded loudly in the hospital’s courtyard. Renaldo closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together as the sound of footsteps pounding on the marble stairs grew louder. Another diplomat determined to cheer him up? He could care less. Suddenly his door flung open and the Queen’s voice floated over the trumpets. “My son! My son! I’m here!” Renaldo pretended to be sleeping. The mouse, who’d been sitting quietly on his shoulder for the entire morning, patted his cheek with his small paw. “Your mother has arrived, your Highness.” Renaldo opened his eyes. He saw his mother and winced. The sunlight gleamed on her diamond necklace and tiara, dazzling him. Three ladies-in-waiting, wearing bright fuchsia, yellow, and green silk dresses, crammed into the room, as well as a steward, a juggler with oranges, and a crier. “Prince Renaldo, your mother has come to pay you a visit!” the crier brayed, although he was not an arm’s breadth away. The juggler tried to juggle, collided with the lady in green, and dropped three oranges onto the bed. Just out the window, the trumpeters redoubled their efforts. Some cymbals clashed. The mouse dove into Renaldo’s collar. Renaldo cringed and shut his eyes again.

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“What have they done to you?” his mother cried. “Why didn’t you answer the messages I sent? I have been so worried!” “They haven’t done anything to me. They saved my life. I didn’t want to send any messages, I received enough to last me a lifetime. I instructed the diplomats to keep you informed of my progress.” “Your father is furious.” “I imagine he is,” said Renaldo. “I told him not to leave the negotiations in Bromley under any circumstances.” “He wasn’t about to leave them,” his mother snapped. Then her face softened. “My poor darling! I’m here now. You can be comforted.” “Can you give me some room? I don’t have much balance yet.” Eyes closed, he groped for his crutches. “Don’t move, darling, we have arranged a litter. Harold,” she said to the steward, “Go get the royal litter!” “I am perfectly capable of walking.” Renaldo opened his eyes and grabbed one of his crutches, trying to pull it out from under the juggler. A lady in waiting stood on the other crutch. “What are all these people doing in my room? Can’t they wait until I get up?” “Don’t be cross, darling. We’re just so glad to see you.” “Get. Out. Of. Here.” Renaldo tried to keep his voice level. The queen sniffed loudly. “Well, if you insist.” She clapped her hands and shooed everyone out of the room. But she stayed put. “We have to talk. I have important news for you.” Renaldo picked his crutches up from the floor and looked at his mother. “Give me the news, then.” “After the fête. Come along, don’t keep everyone waiting.”

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“Fête? What fête?” Renaldo got to his feet and tried to get his balance. He kept trying to put his missing leg down. It was frustrating. “The doctors said you were despondent.” “So you came with jugglers as if I were a child to be entertained.” He paused long enough to let his mother embrace him, then, putting the crutches firmly beneath his arms, he hopped out of the room. Without stopping or looking at anyone, he made his way down the red carpet two stewards had rolled out, turned and hopped slowly out of the hospital. A large crowd stood at the entrance. In front of them a band played loudly, and more jugglers tossed colorful balls back and forth. As he arrived, the crowd erupted in a loud cheer. Renaldo didn’t pause. He descended the staircase, shouldered his way through the crowd, and entered the small park flanking the hospital. The music wavered and died out, and the cheers, deafening when he stepped out of the hospital, petered away to a smattering of hesitant claps as he went into the park and disappeared around a corner. The mouse tickled Renaldo’s ear with his whiskers. “What is the matter?” Renaldo sat on a marble bench and put the crutches at his foot. “The same thing that has been bothering me since I woke up here. My leg is gone, and the woman I love is about to marry an evil magician. Other than that, everything is just peachy.” “I just wish you’d cheer up. It’s not the end of the world, after all, you only saw the girl twice.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” Renaldo put his head in his hands. At that moment his mother came into the park. She sat next to him on the bench and looked at him gravely. “I’m sorry. I only wanted to cheer you up, like any mother would. But you are not a child anymore, and I was amiss bringing the entertainment.”

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Some of the anger he felt drained away. “That’s all right. I understand. What was the news you wanted to tell me?” “We’re going to the wedding. It’s a political affair. I’m representing Bromley, and you are to represent Windtide. Sir Wulfe invited us to stay at his castle. He has offered us his hospitality.” “Sir Wulfe? Mother, Sir Wulfe, the wizard of Querel, is the one responsible for my situation! You just told me that he transformed Windtide’s only wizard and he…” “I know.” “You know?” Renaldo felt as if he was caught in some sort of bad dream, where nothing made sense. The queen leaned over and took his hands in hers. “He sent his regrets and explained everything. Didn’t you tell Sir Wulfe who you were?” Renaldo tried to recall that horrible night. “I don’t think he gave me time,” he admitted. “He is the one who made sure you got the proper treatment here, and when you were missing, he was tireless in his efforts to find you. He was as surprised as anyone when you turned up fighting on a rebel ship. That took a great deal of explaining.” “I’m sure it did,” Renaldo said dryly. “Our diplomats went to great lengths to make sure there wasn’t a grave misunderstanding that could have led to a declaration of war.” His mother leaned back and gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You have caused our country quite an embarrassment, my son.” “I caused an embarrassment?” Renaldo sputtered. “Yes.” His mother’s voice could have withered roses, had there been any in the garden. “First, you disappear without so much a by-your-leave. We had no idea where you’d gone. Luckily your brother found out from a local seamstress that you’d had a assignation with the magician’s daughter. The wizard of Castle Veil!” She gave a bitter laugh. “As if that family hasn’t done

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enough harm. By chance, Sir Wulfe was summoned that night by the girl’s father. He says that it was a huge mix-up, and everyone acted hastily. But you’re the one to blame. You and that… that girl. She was already engaged. She should have known better. As for Sir Casper, the wizard of Castle Veil, he will regain his original form when Sir Wulfe forgives him.” “The magician’s daughter is not responsible for anything,” said Renaldo. “Where is Sylvain?” She looked suddenly worried. “I wanted to be the one to tell you before you heard it from anyone else. Sylvain has run off.” “What are you talking about?” His mother patted his hand. “When you went missing, Sylvain ran off. I have no idea where he is. And the magician of Windtide has been turned into a snake.” “Sir Casper?” “It’s a serious quarrel between magicians, so there is nothing we can do. But it’s been hard for Windtide not having a resident magician.” She took a deep breath. “Why did you join the rebel army? Why go to war?” Renaldo’s head was swimming. His mother’s words were like pieces of a broken puzzle – falling in no logical order, fitting no familiar picture. Nothing made sense. His brother ran away? Why would he do such a thing? “Could he have been searching for me?” he asked. His mother looked uncomfortable now. “He did set off to do that, but I got word from Sir Wulfe right away telling me about his error. I told Sylvain, so he knew that you were not in any danger…” her voice trailed away. “I suppose he could still be searching for you. I didn’t hear anything from him after I told him not to get involved in Sir Wulfe’s quarrel. After all, it was bad enough you got involved.” His mother broke off and frowned at him. “Why do you stare at me like an owl caught in torch light?”

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“You speak a language I know, but your words make no sense,” said Renaldo. “As I live and breathe, I swear to you that Sir Wulfe knew who I was, even if he won’t admit it, and he sent me away despite that fact. He means to marry a young woman against her wishes, and he’s somehow made Sylvain disappear, I’ll stake my life on it.” The queen drew herself stiffly upright and snapped, “Sir Wulfe is a powerful wizard with other worries than getting involved with love-sick and a runaway princes. He did what he thought best. He never forced you to join the army – you did that of your own accord. You could have told anyone who you were, but you didn’t.” “What did my father say?” Renaldo found he could not meet her eyes. All she said was true in a way. It depended how you looked at it. “What do you think he said?” His mother stood up and began pacing in front of him. “He was upset, no, he was furious. A whole flock of Crow Callers descended on the kingdom. He had to spend hours writing letters explaining your rash actions, he had to spend days with diplomats from Querel demanding why one of our princes was taking sides in a war that wasn’t his, and he even spent time with Sir Wulfe who took a whirlwind and came to apologize most abjectly for sending you away.” Renaldo wanted to believe what she said – that Sir Wulfe hadn’t known who he was, and the whole incident had been a mistake. But he couldn’t forget the cold, calculating look in the magician’s eyes. In his heart, he knew the wizard was evil, and that he served but one master – himself. “I’d like to see Leonie, before the wedding, and in private, if possible.” The queen snorted, a smug look on her face. “You can talk to the girl in Sir Wulfe’s presence, and I hope you will have the courage to apologize to Sir Wulfe.”

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A knife in his chest would have been kinder, Renaldo thought. He managed to get up and hop out of the garden, but he had no real recollection of the fête, or the journey to Sir Wulfe’s castle. It was as if his mind and body had gone numb.

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Chapter Fourteen The Unicorn Glade

The first signs of the unicorn glade were tiny, pale green ferns curled like baby fists in the shelter of ledge and root. Snow sifted through the branches, but it didn’t reach the ground. Instead, it turned to small droplets of water. Underfoot, the frozen ground suddenly thawed and became mossy. As Sylvain advanced, he spotted bare branches sprouting green leaves. Soon, overhead, there was a canopy of dappled greenery and sunlight. A balmy breeze tickled Sylvain’s nose and his horse arched its neck and whickered. In a patch of sunlight, water sparkled. Something moved, reminding Sylvain of a white curtain blowing suddenly in the breeze on a hot, summer day. He was a small boy again, sitting in his room early in the morning, with no worries, his only thoughts about what he would do that day: pick blackberries, wade in the stream, catch butterflies in his new net. For a second the world seemed to tremble, poised upon the knife-blade of his memories. He glimpsed the quick movement again, but he was too slow to catch it. He heard no sound, but scented a faint whiff of lily of the valley. He dismounted, looping the reins over his arm. The air grew warmer. “Leonie?” he called softly. “Are you there?” The unicorn stepped out from behind a pine tree. Each step was as light as a falling feather. For a moment Sylvain felt blinded, dazzled, and he could not take in the whole creature at once. Instead he saw her in flashes; a tall, spiraled horn the color of sea-foam, shy eyes that darkened or grew pale as she turned her narrow head, a mane and tail as fine as silk floss, a coat like frosted white velvet, and strong, nervous legs. A unicorn. He hardly dared draw a breath.

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“Why are you here?” The words sounded in his mind. Her voice. Leonie’s voice. The unicorn only stared at him with eyes as deep as the ocean. “I came to tell you a story.” Sylvain found his voice. “May I sit here?” The unicorn inclined her head, light running up and down her horn like quicksilver. Sylvain settled on the moss. Beside him, his horses fell to grazing. “Once upon a time, there was a fair maiden.” “All stories start out so,” said the unicorn. She tossed her head. “Fair maidens are as common as stars in the sky. I am bored already.” “Bear with me. There is nothing ordinary about this woman. One day, she looked into a forbidden crystal ball and saw a handsome prince. By chance, the two met that very same day and fell in love. But they could not be happy together, for an evil wizard claimed the maiden as his own. The wizard sent the prince whirling into a faraway land, and took the maiden to his castle. But the maiden somehow escaped.” “I think know how that happened.” The unicorn lay down by Sylvain’s side and rested her muzzle on a patch of violets. She blew on them softly, and they all bloomed at once, releasing a delicious fragrance into the air. “But you don’t know what happened to the prince.” “What was his name again?” the unicorn pricked her ears, and a faint spark appeared in her unearthly eyes. “Renaldo,” said Sylvain gently. “Renaldo. That’s right. I remember now. I’ve been caught in this dream for so long I’ve nearly forgotten what I was before. Your story reminded me. And what happened to him?” The unicorn’s voice was mournful now.

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“I don’t know.” Sylvain plucked at the moss. “He was in love with the fair maiden, you see, and they were separated by an evil magician. The prince has disappeared.” “That is a sad story.” “It’s not over yet.” “What happens next?” “I don’t know. Several things could happen. We’re at the point of the story where anything can happen. The fair maiden can choose to stay in her forest glen. The handsome prince may be found. The wizard too has possibilities. He has managed to bring about a fragile peace in the land – the first for many years. The reason for this unexpected truce is his upcoming wedding.” “I thought that the maiden fled?” “She has. But a young horse trader has gone to fetch her back.” The unicorn nodded. “A young prince, you mean. I recognize you now. You are Renaldo’s brother, and you came to dine one evening at the magician’s castle.” “That was part of the story, yes.” “We are at the crux of the matter, are we not? I wonder how it will all end.” The unicorn raised her head and looked past him, over his shoulder. In her eyes, Sylvain saw the reflections of mountains and forests. He knew it wasn’t real. He thought perhaps it was the reflection of the unicorn’s longing. He wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but he didn’t dare put his hand on her immaculate coat. He felt as if he would sully her; that he would see his touch like a bruise on a white blossom. “There is more than one possible ending for every story,” he said after a while. She nodded again. “The sad ending and the happy one. And right now, there is only one character who can choose the ending. The fair maiden.”

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“She isn’t your ordinary fairy-tale heroine,” said Sylvain. “She fell in love, but she chose to be free.” “If you’re talking about me, I haven’t decided anything yet.” “But you are happy the way you are.” “No.” The answer surprised him. “Then why stay here by yourself? I don’t understand.” She looked at him then, and said, “I’m not sure I understand either.” The unicorn blinked, and a tear slid down her cheek and fell. “See? It’s just a tear. It holds no magic. Unicorns cry magical tears; everyone knows that. I know I’m not a real unicorn. But I’m not a real princess either. I’m the magician’s daughter, and one day I fell in love with a handsome prince.” “What’s the matter with that story?” Sylvain asked. “If we marry, I’ll have to live in his world, and I’m not sure I can do that. I don’t know how to answer questions or make important decisions. I can’t decide anything. Luckily I don’t have that many clothes to choose from, otherwise I’d never get dressed in the morning.” “You could learn.” “You saw what happened when Sir Wulfe asked me a simple question.” The unicorn sighed, and a honeysuckle vine sprang up and curled around the base of the tree, white flowers popping out like surprised stars from beneath glossy green leaves. “Would you abandon your father and sister?” Sylvain asked, plucking a honeysuckle blossom. “No, of course not.” The unicorn tilted her head. “Did you know that your father was once in love with my mother?” Sylvain frowned. This wasn’t part of the story he was weaving. “It’s common knowledge. My father speaks fondly of your mother.” “Perhaps too fondly.”

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“Now you speak in riddles.” He nibbled at the base of the honeysuckle blossom, sucking at the sweet nectar. It was like a taste of those summer days he’d spent as a carefree child. The unicorn snorted, breaking his reverie. “What did your mother say when she learned Renaldo had fallen in love with me?” “She wasn’t pleased,” said Sylvain slowly. “He was to have wed a princess of Bromley as part of a peace treaty. My mother is from Bromley and this stung her pride. Surely that’s a good reason to be angry.” “Your mother’s anger could have many roots. Perhaps knowing your father was once in love with my mother stung even more.” The unicorn got to her feet and shook some leaves off her coat. Sylvain got to his feet as well. “I doubt that.” He frowned and wondered if he hadn’t missed something after all. “We should decide something, but I have to think for a minute. Decisions are not my strong point,” said the unicorn, shaking its head. Her mane swept through the air, and a rainbow appeared then vanished. “I’d like to take you back to the castle. There is more at stake than a simple love story. This country deserves a chance at peace. If you break off your wedding engagement, the princes may never meet and parley. At least wait until that happens before deciding anything. No one can force you to marry against your will.” There was a moment of silence as the unicorn stood with its eyes half closed. Then it half reared and uttered a loud neigh. “I will go back to the castle and meet with the two princes, I promise you that, for peace is important to me. But first I need to do something, and I must take my proper form.” “Don’t you need the wizard to turn you back into a maiden?”

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“No.” The unicorn vanished and Leonie stood in its place. Sylvain gasped. She was just as lovely and ethereal as he’d remembered. She gave a silvery laugh and the unicorn appeared again. “How did you do that?” “A unicorn is a magical creature. In that form, I learned much of the nature of magic and its uses. I need no wand, nor spell. Now I’d like to go home.” “But you won’t forget your promise to meet with the princes?” To Sylvain, this was an important point. He’d been horrified by the results of the war upon Querel. “I gave my promise.” The unicorn was silent a minute, then said, “We should leave now, before I become too much a unicorn, and change my mind.” There was an ocean of longing in her whisper. “Now? But it’s nearly night.” “Hold your horses.” The unicorn waited until he’d taken their reins. Then it came and stood near them. A soft breeze sprang up and surrounded them. Sylvain felt his hair moving, and the horses’ tails played in the breeze. As gently as a kitten’s paw, the breeze lifted them and carried them through the lavender evening. Below, Sylvain saw the tops of the trees leaning as the whirlwind passed, but inside was as calm as a spring day. “How did you do this?” he asked, leaning over to get a look at the ground rushing past. He had to shout, for even if the whirlwind was gentle, it still made a lot of noise. “It’s easy once you know how.” The unicorn laughed, and Sylvain, who’d never heard a unicorn laugh, suddenly knew what pure joy sounded like. The night grew deep, but they flew over the countryside without faltering until they reached the edge of a small orchard where they landed with the slightest of bumps. In the distance Sylvain saw Castle Veil, its slanted roof silhouetted against the night sky.

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An owl hooted, and he turned to find Leonie at his side. She’d shed her unicorn body and was a maiden once more. “I am always cold like this,” she said, her teeth chattering. “Cold like what?” “As a person. I should have worn a warmer dress.” She hugged her arms around herself and shivered. Her silk robe was far too thin for a winter’s night, and she hurried down a narrow path that led through the orchard and into the back garden. Mist had risen, and it swirled around them and appeared on the spider’s webs in tiny diamond droplets. There was light coming from a window in the castle, and Leonie turned and glanced back at Sylvain, who was following with his horses. “There is someone in the kitchen. Put your horses in the stables. I’ll send Bob to help you.” “Bob is still a dog,” said Sylvain. “Ann couldn’t turn him back.” A half-smile appeared on Leonie’s lips. “Don’t worry about that. Just go to the stables. I’ll take care of Bob.” She waved, and stepped into the mist. Feeling as if he’d just entered an enchanted dream, Sylvain ducked under an arched gate covered with a heavy growth of yellow winter jasmine and put his horses in the small, cozy stable. Whistling tunelessly, he took off their bridles and saddles. He was about to start brushing them when an old man came in. He looked at Sylvain with mournful brown spaniel eyes. “I’ll take care of them, son.” He took the brush from Sylvain and patted his shoulder. “And thank you for bringing our Leonie home.”

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Chapter Fifteen The Counter Spell

In the vast kitchen, a crackling fire kept the cold at bay. The massive stone chimney, built on the north wall, was big enough to stand up in, and had a small bread oven tucked in the corner of it. An iron cauldron hung from a black chain, while baskets of dried apples, corn, and rose-hips lined the walls. Leonie sat on a three legged stool right next to the fire, a thick, red woolen shawl over her shoulders. She looked so at home there that Sylvain didn’t doubt for an instant that was where she spent most of the cold days. In her hands she held a long stemmed corn popper. She shook it, and he heard the rat-a-tat sound of corn popping, and the sweet, homey scent of popcorn filled his nostrils. “Ann does this better than I do. She never burns popcorn. It’s a pity she’s gone to the village. Oh, I think it’s almost done,” she said. The heat had put color in her pale cheeks, and her eyes, though still shy and shadowed, sparkled. Sylvain swallowed and nodded. He found he was even more tongue-tied around Leonie than he had been around the unicorn. There was something remarkable about her. He had the feeling she was the most powerful wizard in the world and yet the lightest touch would shatter her like glass. Cook came into the room and nodded at Sylvain. She wore a big apron, and had red, round cheeks. “Here is Cook,” said Leonie. “Cook, this is Prince Sylvain.” “We met before,” said Sylvain, giving a bow. “That’s right. I forgot you spent a few days here with Ann,” Leonie said.

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“So pleased to see you again,” said Cook cheerfully. She pulled out the bench and said, “Have a seat, your Highness.” Sylvain sat. Leonie finished popping the corn and poured it into a bowl, while Cook put a handful of rose-hips in a tea kettle and added boiling water. Only then did Sylvain notice the small wooden box on the floor near Leonie’s feet. “Is your father still there?” he asked. “Is he all right?” “He’s sleeping,” said Leonie. “Snakes hibernate in the winter, and he’s almost become snake. I can’t transform him without harming him. He has to remember who he really is.” She reached down and drew a finger along the side of the box. Sylvain thought he saw pale green sparks, but it must have been from the fire, he thought. “Did you forget who you were?” he asked her. She carried the bowl of popcorn to the table and sat next to him. “No. I wanted to, but I was always Leonie, no matter how hard I tried to become something else.” Cook put cups of steaming rose-hip tea in front of them. The sweet, lemony scent made him dizzy. “I need to wash up,” he said. Cook tapped his shoulder. “Follow me, Prince Sylvain. I will show you to your room.” First she poured hot water into a large pitcher, and then she led him up three stairs into the front hall. There, she turned left and went down a narrow hallway with a red door at the end. She opened it and motioned him inside. It led to the guest room where he’d stayed before. In the brick fireplace, a cozy fire already warmed the room, and the bed had been made with flannel sheets and a fuzzy red and green plaid blanket. His saddle bags were next to the bed, and he saw that his clothes had been hung in the open closet. Next to the closet there was one, floorlength window. The shutters were closed and there were heavy, green velvet curtains to keep the

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draft out. It was a festive room, with a wreath of ivy and holly hanging on the wall just above the fireplace. Cook set the pitcher down next to a basin. “Take your time. I’ll keep your tea warm and dinner will be ready soon.” “Thank you,” said Sylvain. He washed up and put on a clean tunic. Over the table where the basin rested hung a small mirror. His reflection stared gravely at him. A small-boned man with straight, chocolate brown hair and dark brown eyes, so dark you couldn’t see his pupils. Violet shadows smudged his eyes and his hair had a small twig caught in it. He ran his hands through his hair and rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. He needed a good wash and a shave, but more than that he needed a meal and a long rest. He turned and faced the door, reaching for the round, pewter handle. Suddenly his hand shook. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and tried to will his thoughts away. Thoughts of Leonie sitting near the fireplace, the light warming her porcelain skin. “I don’t love her,” he said, his voice rough. But he didn’t believe himself, and he was afraid to look at her. Afraid that she would read the feelings in his eyes and despise him forever. A shudder ran through him, but he was no coward. He opened the door and went toward the kitchen, where he could hear Cook chattering, and where Leonie’s laugh made him quake like a tree in a storm. # For dinner, Cook had baked a chicken pot pie, and as she brought it to the table steam escaped from the pasty top, spreading the scent of rosemary. “Rosemary for remembrance,” said Leonie, and she blew some of the steam toward the little box where the snake lay curled in its winter sleep.

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“Will you be able to wake him?” Sylvain didn’t look at her. He passed his plate to Cook and then stared at the heaping serving of chicken wrapped in crusty pastry, bathed in a sauce redolent of rosemary. “I will. That looks delicious.” Leonie sighed and picked up her fork. “I’ve been talking to Cook,” she said, spearing a carrot. “And I told her about being a unicorn.” Sylvain glanced at her, then quickly down at his plate again. There was a chip on the side of the plate, he noticed, and his napkin was made of blue linen. “Do unicorns like chicken pot pie?” She laughed, and he lifted his head in surprise, though he hadn’t meant to look at her. Their eyes met, and she stopped laughing. It was as if a torch had been doused. “I’m sorry, I’m very tired. Please excuse me,” he stammered. He pushed his plate away and stood up. “When Ann arrives, give her my regards and tell her I hope to see her in the morning.” She stood too, her expression puzzled. “Of course. She won’t be long now. Good night, Sylvain, and thank you for your help. Without you, I would not have had the courage to come back here and face everyone. You helped me make up my mind – to decide something for the first time in my life, and I will never forget that.” “Will we be leaving soon to Querel?” he turned, speaking with his back to her. He felt like a cad, but there was no way he could look at her. It would break his heart, and he needed it a little while longer, at least. “As soon as I find the counter spell for my father.” “Good night, then.” Sylvain turned and bowed briefly and then walked stiffly out of the kitchen and into his room. There, he lay in bed and stared into the darkness. An owl hooted, and the wind moaned softly in the chimney. He wondered if he’d ever find peace again, if he’d ever be like that small boy sitting on his bed in the summertime, watching the curtains blow. A boy with no worries, and no other plans but going to catch frogs in the moat.

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And then he surprised himself by realizing he never wanted to be that way again. Life, with all its pain and joys, was calling him. For the first time he wanted to do something spectacular, not just be the younger prince, the second son, the worthless one. His mother and father had never taken him seriously since he was never to become king. But even if he wasn’t king, he could be useful. He was going to do something… the only problem was, he didn’t know what. Before he could decide, sleep claimed him, and unicorns ran through his dreams like quicksilver.

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Chapter Sixteen Leonie’s Charm

When Ann came home, she was exhausted, so exhausted it took her a moment to comprehend that Bob had opened the door for her, and Leonie was back. “Leo!” Ann dropped her basket of medicine and potions and flung herself into Leonie’s arms. She turned to Bob. “And Bob, did the spell wear off?” “No, Leonie took it off. She’s become a magician,” said Bob, giving Ann a hug. It was the first time Leonie had seen him getting emotional. He had to get a handkerchief from Cook and dab at his eyes. Ann sat down. “I just can’t believe you’re back. It seems like part of a dream.” She pinched herself and gave a sort of half laugh, half sob. “I’m not dreaming. You’re finally here. I’ve been so worried.” With that, she buried her face in her arms and began to cry. “Don’t cry, it makes me sad.” Ann laughed through her tears. “I’m crying from joy. How did you escape Sir Wulfe? Did Prince Sylvain come rescue you?” “He did. And yes, he’s here. He went to bed a while ago. He was tired. You look knackered, Ann. Are you all right?” “I’m fine, now that you’re here.” She dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose on her handkerchief. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner. But I had so much to learn.” Leonie put her arms around Ann and held her a minute. Then she pulled away and said. “I have to talk to you tomorrow when you’re rested. Don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere.”

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“I know you won’t.” Ann gave her a watery smile. Leonie gave her a kiss, then let Cook take care of Ann. Magic and healing didn’t come easy to Ann, and the days she spent in the village drained her completely. “I’ll transform Father back to his normal self, so you can get some rest,” Leonie said to her before she went upstairs to bed. Ann gave her an incredulous look, then shook her head. She obviously didn’t believe she was capable of such a feat. But she’d changed. Everything was different now. It took the better part of the night, but Leonie finally found what she needed. The charm was easy once you had the right words, and she memorized it without too much difficulty. Then, as the sky began to turn gray, she brought the snake into the study and undid the magic that Sir Wulfe had wrought. She thought her father would be confused and disoriented at first, so she had Bob light a fire in the chimney and asked Cook for some hot spiced cider. Her father woke up slowly, but he wasn’t at all befuddled. Sipping his cider, he stood next to the chimney and looked over the rim of his cup at her. Finally, he sighed and put it down. “I have to talk to you, Leonie.” “Go ahead.” She braced herself for a good scolding, but he drew a chair up next to her and took her hands in his. That startled her so much she nearly jumped. Biting her lip, she looked at him. “What is it, Father?” “Your mother was like the morning star. She sparkled. People loved her without even knowing her. For a while I thought it was just because she was lovely and kind, and because she was always cheerful. A smile is the most beautiful thing a woman can wear, and your mother smiled all the time. But then you were born, and something happened. She didn’t grow less lovely, or stop smiling, but her sparkle faded and disappeared.”

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“What happened?” “The sparkle was a kind of magic she’d had. I never realized it, and I’m a magician! I spent months trying to learn what had happened, and I found out that one of your mother’s ancestors had been a magician. Usually those things are well documented because of the laws of magic. Certain types of magic are harmful and have been bred out, because of the damage wild magic can cause.” “I know all that. It’s what we learn first,” said Leonie. “Was her magic harmful?” “Not exactly. But it was… uncontrollable. And wild magic is never good for anyone.” “What exactly did this magic do?” Leonie forced her lips to move. They felt stiff and cold, and so did her hands. She had a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “It caused men to fall passionately in love with her. It wasn’t her fault that any man who saw her fell under her charm. That the king saw her and fell in love with her was unfortunate. When I married her, I suspected something. I begged her not to leave the safety of Castle Veil, and created the enchantments to serve her. She agreed willingly, because she was tired of always having men following her like love-sick swains. It might sound ridiculous to you…” “No, it doesn’t,” said Leonie. She quelled a shudder. “I think I understand perfectly.” “You can imagine my surprise and alarm when I found the sparkle again… in you, Leonie.” The implication of what he was saying sunk in. “Can you make it go away?” “Never. I’m sorry. It’s wild magic.” “I have to tell Sylvain and Renaldo,” she said. She wiped a tear off her cheek. “You should have told me.” “Would you have believed me?” Leonie shook her head. “I suppose not. I would have thought it was just another punishment.”

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“I thought that it would be better to protect you as long as possible, and when you were ready, I would have explained everything. Sir Wulfe’s proposal sounded like a gift to me. He would have known how to protect you. Do you see why you cannot marry the prince? You cannot live among normal people, my daughter. I am sorry. Sorrier than you will ever know.” Her father’s words hit her like fists. Each heartbeat hurt. “That’s why I wasn’t allowed to go to the village, to play with the other children, or meet anyone else but another magician. That’s why you transformed me when you had guests. Sir Wulfe knew.” “Yes, he knew.” Leonie wiped her eyes and straightened her shoulders. It did no good to cry about things you couldn’t change. She had push her sorrow away and act. “What about Ann?” “She has no magic to speak of. It wasn’t her fault she had to stay cooped up here. Luckily she liked it, and never wanted to leave Castle Veil.” A knock on the door startled them. Cook poked her head in. She clucked her tongue. “You haven’t slept a wink, and it’s morning already. Prince Sylvain is in the kitchen, and breakfast is ready. Why don’t you come downstairs?” “Prince Sylvain?” Sir Wulfe asked. “He is Prince Renaldo’s brother. He came looking for him, and he ended up at Sir Wulfe’s castle intending to set me free.” “And did he set you free? How did you escape Sir Wulfe?” “I changed into a unicorn again and ran away. I stayed like that for weeks. Sylvain found me in the forest at Sir Wulfe’s bidding. And because of Sylvain, I agreed to come back here and become myself once more. So in a way, yes, he did set me free.” She gave a crooked smile. “I didn’t want to change back, you see.”

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Her father looked nonplussed, then his expression softened. “I think I can understand. At any rate, I’m glad you’re back, and sorry I ever made that agreement with Sir Wulfe. You won’t have to see him again.” “Oh yes I will. I intend to go back to Sir Wulfe’s castle. Long enough for him to meet with the princes so that they agree to sit and parley for peace. They are supposed to be coming to a wedding, so I should be there at least, although I have no intention of marrying Sir Wulfe. And then I have to find Renaldo, I suppose, and tell him about my charm.” Her heart felt like it was breaking in little pieces. She could hardly draw a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” the wizard said again, shaking his head slowly. “I’m sorry about the charm, and I’m sorry about Renaldo.” Leonie got up and paused. “It’s not your fault. Wild magic is like a charm. You never know when it will turn up. I learned much in my time as a unicorn. I think I’ll surprise you – as long as you don’t ask me to recite my uneven verbs.” “Irregular verbs,” said her father, a crooked smile appearing. “You will always surprise me, Leonie. Every time I think I understand you, you change like water. Ice, steam, ocean, stream and snow… all water, all different. Like you.” She nodded, but was still too shy to give him a hug. Instead, she took his hand as they walked downstairs, and she thought that she could start by finding happiness in small places. A hand to hold. A crooked smile. Little steps for now. The darkness was still there, but it began to recede. # Sylvain looked back at his plate. His breakfast had grown cold, but he had lost his appetite anyway. Leonie was enchanted. That explained a lot: his brother’s lighting-bolt infatuation, his own thudding heart whenever he looked at her, and Sir Wulfe’s obsession. He wasn’t surprised to

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feel battered by emotions. But he didn’t expect to feel such sharp pity. He wished Ann had told him before, but reflected that it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. Magic was magic. “What will you do?” he asked Leonie. “I’ll stay here and become a healer, like my father. He can teach me everything I need to know. If I am careful, I can go out and help women who are in need. Perhaps in time I will find a spell to counteract my problem. Because it is a problem,” she added wryly. “Ann will have take care of the men and boys for now.” Ann laughed. “I’m just glad you’re back, Leonie.” Sylvain tapped his fingers on the table. “If you are enchanted, and people fall in love with you… what will happen when the two princes meet you? Won’t it spark more fighting if they both decide they must have you?” A long silence greeted his words, and he stopped poking at his cold egg and glanced up, wondering what he’d said wrong. “Say that again,” Leonie’s father ordered. “I was just thinking aloud. I didn’t mean any harm or disrespect,” said Sylvain, suddenly nervous. The wizard looked fierce, as if he were about to turn him into something unpleasant. “Just repeat what you said.” He said uncertainly, “I think that if the two princes see Leonie, they’ll fall in love with her. If they’re already jealous of each other and fighting, can you imagine what Leonie’s presence will do? It will be like a spark to dry tinder. I can’t imagine they will sign any treaty.” Ann gave a little gasp. “They’ll be too busy reorganizing their armies in order to destroy each other. Sir Wulfe didn’t want Leonie for peace, he wanted her for war!” Leonie and her father looked at each other. Sylvain put his knife and fork down as the importance of what Ann said hit him. “The war will get worse, won’t it?”

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The wizard stood and started to pace. “I don’t know very much about politics, and I’ve never concerned myself over affairs I couldn’t control. It seemed to me that a king was born to rule, whereas a wizard was born to help others. I’ve never questioned my station in life. But it seems to me that Sir Wulfe will cause great strife in Querel if he insists on bringing the two princes together with Leonie. He never spoke of that to me when he proposed marriage to Leonie. He knew I would have forbidden it.” “He sent Renaldo away in a whirlwind,” said Sylvain. “Perhaps he means to stir up troubles in Windtide as well.” The wizard stopped pacing. “Has Renaldo been found?” “I don’t know. I haven’t had any messages from my family,” said Sylvain. Ann spoke up. “Sir Wulfe told me that he’d bring Renaldo back and transform my father right after the wedding.” “The winter solstice is only a few days away. I shall have to hurry,” said Leonie. “Be careful. Sir Wulfe thinks I’m still in snake form. I’d like to call a meeting of magicians at the guild of wizards, but I’m afraid of what will happen to Renaldo and Leonie if Sir Wulfe finds out I’m back.” Leonie’s father stood in a patch of sunlight and looked out the window, his face creased in a worried frown. Cook poured them all some more tea and went to sit by the window, a basket of knitting on her knee. “We have to think of a plan to thwart Sir Wulfe,” said Leonie. She sipped her tea and gave a rueful laugh. “We can always disguise Sylvain as me and send him to Sir Wulfe for the wedding. The two princes will never fall in love with him.” There was a long silence. “That’s absurd,” said Sylvain.

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“It might work,” said the magician, looking at him in a way Sylvain didn’t like at all. # Transforming into a woman was a quick, almost painless process. Now he had long hair, and his body was no longer flat and strong, but willowy, and absurdly weak. He had no arm muscles at all! He was always scaring himself when he opened his mouth and Leonie’s voice came out, and he couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror. But the hardest part for Sylvain was getting used to women’s clothes. There were so many of them! And each piece was fragile as a spider’s web and about as comfortable as a bramble bush. Buttons poked him, laces choked him, and he couldn’t take a decent stride. His legs were hindered, his arms were mired, and even his waist and hips were wired! Worst of all were the shoes – little wobbly scraps of leather with wooden heels and pointed toes that caught in whatever came in front of them and delighted in sending him on trips – he tripped across the room, down the stairs, or into the wall. The shoes Leonie wore had small heels, but they were enough to make him clumsy. He kept tripping and catching his toes in the long dresses. So far he’d ripped the hems out of two of them. Mistress Dawn had come and had brought three brand new dresses, one a wedding dress made of soft, silver velvet. He had to stand still for hours while she pinned and hemmed and made adjustments. The torture women had to go through simply to dress! “Stop fidgeting!” Ann ordered. She combed his hair and braided it, and it pulled and hurt. He hated it. He hated being a girl. “I was a fool to let myself be talked into this,” he said, dodging the powder puff Ann tried to pat on his cheeks. “I will not put anything on my face. Leonie doesn’t use make-up; why should I?” “She has charm,” said no-nonsense Ann. “You need lipstick and rouge.”

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Chapter Seventeen A Prince in High Heels

Leonie transformed herself into a horse. She was the most beautiful horse Sylvain had ever seen; dapple gray, with big brown eyes and a sweet expression. But she was a horse; he wasn’t in love with her. Her father told him that Leonie’s charm disappeared when she was transformed. “I can’t get used to seeing you as me,” said Leonie. She swished her tail and neighed. “It’s not any easier getting used to a talking horse with charm,” said Sylvain. He patted her nose. “I won’t talk at all when we get to Sir Wulfe’s castle.” “Will your father come with us?” “No, he doesn’t want Sir Wulfe to know he’s back in his own form.” “Good excuse.” Sylvain stepped backward and tripped when his heels tilted. Luckily he still had his reflexes, and managed to catch himself before he fell. “I make a clumsy prince.” “Princess,” corrected Leonie. “It’s funny, but I have the strongest urge for a carrot.” “Right. Well, I’ll go get you one. Can I wear pants and boots for the trip? Please?” “No. We’ll take a whirlwind anyhow so we’ll be very close. You won’t have to spend much time as a girl, or walk very far.” Leonie twitched her ears. It was not as interesting being a horse as it had been being a unicorn. Horses tended to think about food a lot. They also had gas. Her stomach rumbled. “I really don’t see how girls can move in these clothes,” Sylvain complained. He hitched up his skirt and tramped up the stairs in search of a carrot. “Be right back.”

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“Take your time,” said Leonie. Her stomach made more interesting noises. She looked at it, sighed, and swished her tail a bit, to practice acting like a horse. Her father had been astounded when she transformed herself. No one in his memory had been able to transform themselves. She hadn’t truly appreciated just how powerful she’d become in that short time spent as a unicorn. But she supposed that the power had always been there, dormant, just waiting for the right moment to appear. If only she could use that power to wipe out the wild magic charm that made it impossible for her to live with people. She knew why her mother had wanted to stay in Castle Veil. It must have been exasperating always having men falling in love with her, but at least her mother had known that her husband loved her, and not because of magic. But she’d always wonder if Renaldo had fallen in love with her or with her charm. She would never know, and that hurt terribly. It hurt, because she’d fallen in love with him. It was silly, and puerile, and just went to show how little she knew about the world. How can you fall in love with someone after just one kiss? It might not be true love, but it hurt anyway. Head drooping, she went into the stable and lay down in a thick bed of hay.. # That evening, everything was ready. Sylvain packed some dresses in a saddle bag and put everything on Leonie’s back, and patted her nose. He really couldn’t help it. She had such a soft, velvety nose. “You’re going to rub all the fur off it,” said Leonie. She called forth a whirlwind, and as before, it appeared gently and quietly, and hardly stirred the dead leaves in the courtyard. Bob, who’d come prepared with rake and broom, raised an approving eyebrow. Sir Casper, Ann, and Cook waved as they lifted off the ground. Sylvain tried not to think of aching feet, or

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how many tangles the whirlwind was putting in his long hair. It would have to be combed out again, and that hurt. “Don’t you look lovely,” said Leonie, and gave a very horsy laugh. “I can’t believe I let myself be talked into this,” said Sylvain for the hundredth time. He tried to heave a sigh, but his dress was laced too tightly in the back, and he could hardly draw a full breath. “Your dress is too small for me,” he complained. “It fits perfectly. Mistress Dawn is an excellent seamstress. Now be quiet. We’re arriving. Don’t talk to me anymore, and remember to act shy. Keep your eyes downcast, give a few miserable sniffs. Act as if you regret running away.” Sylvain thought that was good advice, and gave a few practice sniffles as he led the beautiful horse down the graveled road to Sir Wulfe’s castle. Several carriages were parked in the courtyard, and he recognized his mother’s royal crest emblazoned on one door. What was she doing here? She must have been invited to the wedding. He wanted to ask Leonie what she thought, but before he could, the front door opened and Sir Wulfe stepped out. He narrowed his eyes, and Sylvain, mindful of Leonie’s advice, lowered his chin and hunched his shoulders in the warm cloak he wore, trying to look both contrite and humble. “Well, this is a surprise,” the wizard said. “How is it you’re no longer a unicorn? Explain, Leonie!” That hadn’t been part of the script. Sylvain could think of no good reason he was not still a unicorn. He decided honesty was the best policy. “I have no idea,” he said. Sir Wulfe snorted. “Still the same, bird-brained Leonie. Well, never mind. The spell must have worn off. Where have you been?”

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“I – I went into the forest and then I went back to Castle Veil. But Ann is all alone, and Father is a snake. Ann said you’d transform him after the wedding, so I came back.” His hands shook. Sir Wulfe hadn’t scared him before, but now, with this weak body, he felt terribly vulnerable. “It’s a good thing you showed up when you did. The wedding is organized. We have guests of honor, too, the Queen of Windtide and her son, Renaldo.” “Renaldo?” Sylvain didn’t have to act. His jaw nearly dropped and he caught it just in time. What were Renaldo and his mother doing here? “Yes. Renaldo,” Sir Wulfe snarled. “I’m glad I didn’t have to come after you myself. I would have been very angry if I’d had to waste time and come looking for you in the forest. Not that a unicorn glade would have escaped me for too long, but I have better things to do. You will go to your room and prepare yourself to meet the two princes of Querel. The princes and their father will be here tomorrow.” “Tomorrow?” Sylvain echoed. He frowned. “What about my father?” “Once you’ve done my bidding, and met with the princes, I will change him back. Now, go, before I lose my temper.” “What about my horse? Sylvain asked. Sir Wulfe seemed to hesitate, his gaze lingering on Leonie longer than Sylvain thought necessary. Then Leonie raised her tail and let drop an impressive pile of manure. Sir Wulfe stepped backward, his face wrinkling in annoyance. “You know where the stables are! Leave the beast there and tell the groom to come clean up this mess!” “Yes, Sir Wulfe.” Sylvain tugged on the reins. As quickly as he could walk in his high heels, he led Leonie to the stables where he handed her over to the groom standing impassively by the door.

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“The boss wants you to clean up the courtyard,” he said, jerking his thumb at the pile of manure, before realizing how unladylike it was. Then, trying to walk more delicately, he trudged back to the castle, and, holding his skirt out of the way, climbed the stairs and pushed the heavy front door open. The hallway and staircase were empty. Sylvain made his way up the stairs. In Leonie’s room, he took a step toward the window chair. He caught his heel in the back of his skirt and tripped. There was an awful ripping sound, and part of the lacy hem came off. He picked it up and tossed it in the fireplace. He was going to change dresses, but at that moment, the door opened and Sir Wulfe strode in. “Leonie, Prince Renaldo wants to see you.” Sylvain rubbed his hands together nervously. “Will I be able to see him alone?” “Yes, otherwise he may be inclined to think you’re being forced to say things you don’t want to. I’m depending on you to make him believe you want to marry me. Your father’s well-being depends on you being convincing. Follow me.” Sylvain hiked his dress up and tottered after Sir Wulfe. He’d been looking forward to taking the shoes off and perhaps unlacing the tight stays… now he had to pretend to be his brother’s beloved. If things weren’t so grave, he might have laughed. # Renaldo sat in a chair by the fire. When the door opened, he first thought it was a maid coming to bring him more tea. He’d never had so much tea in his life. Alone, practically prisoner, he could only rage against fate, or whatever it was that brought him so close to his enemy and left him impotent against him. But he had all the tea he wanted. His mother and he had arrived last night at Sir Wulfe’s castle, and it had taken all his will power not to hit the wizard over the head with one of his crutches when they met. He

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remembered the recruiter’s words about not giving into rage and taking revenge on the one who’d injured him. He managed to control himself. Sir Wulfe had apologized most sincerely for having caused him such grief. He also hinted that taking part in a war that didn’t concern him had stirred up considerable trouble between the two princes of Querel, and that luckily everyone believed his version of the tale – that he hadn’t chosen sides and that he’d been pressed into service. Sir Wulfe had been icily polite, and managed to twist everything around so that it seemed it was all Renaldo’s fault for trying to run away with the magician’s betrothed. Afterward he’d been shown to a truly luxurious room, and he’d stayed there ever since, pleading fatigue when the summons to dinner came. He didn’t think he had enough diplomacy in him to spend an entire meal with Sir Wulfe and his mother in front of Leonie. Feigning exhaustion was easy. His very bones ached with the strain of being near the man who’d caused Leonie and him so much grief. Leonie! If only he could see her. But his mother had been firm. He was to stay in his room and not move. Leonie would come to see him in all good time. But it had been two days now, and she still hadn’t come to see him! His mood was as bleak as the view from his window. Sir Wulfe’s castle was built on the shores of a lake, whose black waters ruffled in the never-ending wind. White swans scudded across the surface, but they were half wild, and stayed near the tall reeds on the sides of the lake. The castle was made all of granite and slate. Noble material, but stark and cold. The multi-paned windows were small, and let in scant light. Heavy curtains blocked the cold, but made the rooms even dimmer. Candles burned in pewter holders. A fire burned in his chimney as well. But the firelight didn’t succeed in making the room any cheerier. Instead, the puddles of yellow candlelight just made the shadows seem even deeper.

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And so, when the door opened, his first reaction was one of annoyance. More tea? He opened his mouth, meaning to tell the maid to stop bringing pots of tea. He hadn’t even finished the last one. It sat, growing tepid, next to him. But it wasn’t the maid. Leonie stood in the doorway, a funny smile on her face that brought to mind someone else. “Leonie!” She rolled her eyes, a strangely familiar grin on her face, but she became serious when Sir Wulfe appeared, towering above her. He pointed at Renaldo. “She has something to tell you. I’ll leave you two alone now. When the water clock strikes the hour, I’ll be back to fetch her.” He shut the door behind Leonie. She scratched her nose, then, hitching her skirt up to her knees, she tottered to the chair facing his and sank into it with a sigh of relief. “These shoes are killing me,” she said. Renaldo felt his heart beating in his throat. Not a word about his leg. No “Hello, I’ve missed you,” or even a “What happened to you?” Instead, she poured herself a cup of tea and gulped it. “I was thirsty,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for two days for you to decide to come see me. Why have you waited so long?” Renaldo asked, and his voice betrayed him by breaking. Furious with himself he grabbed his crutches and stood. The color drained out of her face. Slowly she raised her eyes to his. “Renaldo.” Her lips hardly moved. She looked stunned. The cup she held tilted, and cold tea poured out on her lap. She didn’t even glance down. “Didn’t you know? Didn’t Sir Wulfe tell you what happened to me? Are you going to tell me you love him now, or are you going to just sit there and sip tea as if on some stupid social visit?” The words came out as sharply as ground glass, but he couldn’t stop them, just as he was helpless to stop the tide of fury that suddenly washed over him. “What happened to you?” Her face had gone bone white.

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He told her about the war and about the battle that lost him his leg, and about waking up in a hospital and finding out his beloved was engaged to be married to the wizard who’d spirited him away. She didn’t react like he thought she would – with tears and protests. She looked at him unflinchingly, as if searching deeply into his soul. Silence stretched between them. He couldn’t drop his eyes, even though he knew his eyes were betraying him. His eyes were pleading with her. Don’t leave me. Don’t tell me what you’ve come to say. I love you. Her expression was shuttered. He couldn’t read her thoughts at all. She moved her head, the tiniest of movements, but it broke the thread between them. Color came back into her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to the spilled tea. “I’ve made quite a mess.” He didn’t know if she spoke of her dress, or their relationship. “Do you love him? Do you love Sir Wulfe? Were you just playing with me?” Renaldo couldn’t help the questions. He had lost what little control he had over his emotions. They battered him. He felt as if he were drowning again, except here there was no floating spar to save him. “No, of course I don’t love him, and I wasn’t playing with you.” She hesitated, then said, “I had no idea where you had gone. I didn’t know you were fighting in the war. Why did you enlist?” “I didn’t enlist!” he cried agitatedly. Forgetting his missing leg, he stepped toward her, nearly lost his balance, and grabbed at his crutches. “It was join or die, and once I had joined, it was impossible to leave.” “But, all you had to say was your name!” Her voice held reproach, but not the kind he expected.

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“Your Highness, may I speak?” It was the mouse. He had been curled up in an empty teacup on the mantle, and now he climbed out of it and bowed to Leonie. “Pleased to finally meet you, Lady Leonie. I’ve heard much about you.” She glanced at the mouse, her expression startled. “Who are you?” “I’m a powerful magician,” said the mouse. “If someone can undo the spell I’m under, I can save you both.” “That would be nice.” She hesitated, then said in a low voice, “Why don’t you go to the stables? There is someone there who may help you.” Renaldo frowned. “The stables? Don’t you mean Sir Wulfe? He’s already tried to break the mouse’s spell. He was infuriated when he couldn’t. Although he tried to hide it, I could tell he was vexed.” “Just go to the stables. And speak not a word to anyone else. Will you do that?” Leonie asked the mouse. Renaldo watched Leonie. She looked the same, she had the same hair, the same eyes, the same fingernails… But somehow she’d changed. Well, he’d changed too. He’d been through battles. He felt his anger leaving him. It was like a wave slipping off a beach leaving behind flotsam and jetsam made up of the past months bitter memories. He hopped to the chimney and took the mouse out of the cup. Setting him on the floor he said, “Run along to the stables. Leonie wants to talk to me alone.” “Yes, that’s more like it,” said the mouse. He twitched his whiskers. “For a minute, I really thought there might be someone there to help me. Well, joke’s on the mouse.” Leonie pointed at the door. “If I were you, I’d go to the stables and I’d ask a dapple gray horse if she could spare a few oats.” “Right, right. Everyone is a comedian.” The mouse slipped under the door and left.

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Renaldo turned and sat. Leaning forward, he took Leonie’s hand. “You better hurry, your time here with me is almost over,” he said with a nod toward the water clock. “I’ve come to tell you something, but I don’t want to say it,” she said. “Have you come to tell me you don’t love me anymore? Look at me. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that?” She didn’t answer him. Instead, she said, “Do you still feel the same about me? We only knew each other a moment, and there are things happening around us that we cannot control. Search your heart carefully. I need to know the truth.” He studied her face. He felt as if he’d always known her. “I still feel exactly the same about you.” “Are you sure?” Her brows knitted in a frown. “Positive. Leonie, the first time I set eyes on you, you were wet and bedraggled, you were spitting water, and there were weeds in your hair. Your nose was running, your eyes were swollen, and the most I can say is that you were not a very charming sight.” “I wasn’t charming?” Her frown grew deeper. Renaldo hoped her scowl didn’t mean she hated what he was saying, but he couldn’t stop now. Somehow, he had to convince her. “Something happened that day. I think it’s called love at first sight.” “There’s no such thing.” “It’s in all the fairy tales, so it must exist. I fell in love with you, Leonie. When I was in the ship, during battle, every minute, actually, I thought about you. I thought about you in the hospital. And even when I thought I’d never see you again, I still loved you.” There. He said it. Now she would stand up, tell him he was ridiculous, and leave.

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She gave a deep sigh and shook her head. His heart stopped. This was it then. There was nothing left for him. He’d go back to Windtide and rule, but the throne next to him would remain empty. No one could ever take her place. The water clock struck the hour and the door flew open with a loud crash. Sir Wulfe strode in, seized Leonie’s arm, and dragged her out of the room. “I love you!” Renaldo cried, dropping his crutches in his haste to reach her. He fell, knocking over the table. The teapot fell and shattered. The door slammed shut. Nothing mattered any more. Leonie was gone. What could possibly be worse?

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Chapter Eighteen The Mighty Mouse Magician

Leonie was lying in the straw, feeling sorry for herself, when she heard someone muttering. She pricked her ears and listened. Horses have good hearing, so the words came to her clearly, although she hadn’t heard anyone walk into the stables. This intrigued her. She got to her feet and looked over the stall door. There was no one in sight. But she still heard the voice. “Go ask the gray horse for some oats. Sure. Why didn’t they just ask me to leave? I would have understood. But no, have to make fun of me.” And then a deep sigh. Leonie craned her neck over the door and peered left and right. Nobody. “Well, there’s a gray horse. Hello, pretty horse. Got any oats?” The voice came from near the ground. Leonie looked down. A very small mouse stood in front of her door. He was practically hidden by the a pile of straw. As she watched, he kicked at a pebble, then looked back up at her. “Hello,” said Leonie. The mouse dove into the straw. “Don’t be frightened. Horses don’t eat mice,” she told the pile of straw. “Horses don’t talk,” said the mouse, poking its head out. Its black, beady eyes examined her carefully. “Mice don’t usually talk either,” said Leonie. “Oh, that.” The mouse stepped out of the straw and brushed himself off. “I’m not really a mouse. I’m a very powerful magician. I challenged another wizard to a duel, and lost. Unfortunately, I seem to have gotten stuck in this form.”

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“Really? Well, there is a very powerful wizard in the castle over there. Why don’t you ask him to transform you?” “He tried.” The mouse shrugged. Leonie snorted in surprise. “He failed?” “Obviously. I mean, do I look like a powerful magician? No. I look like a mouse.” The mouse glanced behind him and sighed. “I even have a tail.” “So do I.” Leonie swished her tail. “It’s handy to keep the flies away.” The mouse cocked its head. “You are the prettiest horse I’ve ever seen. And you talk. In my opinion, you’re not really a horse. You must be an enchantment, like all the servants here. But why a horse? I can see turning a horse into a groom, or a stable hand, but why turn a human into a horse?” Leonie shook her head. “I’m in disguise.” “Oh.” The mouse thought about that for a while. “Well, what are you then, if you don’t mind me asking.” “I’m a magician’s daughter.” “The one in the castle? He has a daughter?” “No, my father is another magician.” The mouse climbed nimbly up the haystack. “That’s interesting. You’ll have to tell me why you’re a horse. Are you being punished?” “No, I chose to transform into a horse.” “I didn’t choose to be a mouse, believe me.” The tiny mouse looked glum. “Well, if you want to be changed back to your own self, I can try.” Leonie felt like being helpful. She wasn’t sure she could do it – after all, Sir Wulfe had failed. But she could always make an effort.

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The mouse chuckled. “That’s a good one. The most powerful wizard tries and fails, but a talking horse thinks she can do it. Well, go ahead. I’ll close my eyes. Tell me when it’s over. Won’t Prince Renaldo be surprised.” “Prince Renaldo?” Leonie faltered. “Do you know him?” “Saved his life I did,” said the mouse, eyes still closed. He puffed out his chest and his whiskers quivered with self-importance. “You saved his life?” “When he was blasted out to sea by the cannons. Lost his leg, poor fellow. But he’s saved now. I expect he’ll take me back to his kingdom and give me a medal or something.” “How is he?” Leonie had to know. The mouse opened one eye, then the other. “I say, are you going to restore me or not?” “Just tell me about Renaldo!” “He’s probably broken hearted right now. The woman he loves came to see him this evening, and she didn’t seem madly in love anymore. I can tell, you know, when people are in love. As a magician, I feel these sort of things. Anyway, this girl seemed more concerned about her shoes than her heart. A bad sign, usually.” The mouse gave a little cough. “I was surprised, actually.” “Why?” Leonie held her breath. “Well, he’d been talking about her for so long, and saying such wonderful things about her that I expected someone incredible. She’s pretty enough, but nothing amazing.” “Did Renaldo lose interest in her, then?” “Oh, no. That’s not what happened at all. ‘Twas the girl who seemed to have lost interest. He loves her still, I can tell.” “Are you sure?” Leonie stomped her hoof. “Are you positive?”

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“Yes, he loves her fiercely. There’s no doubt in my mind. He spoke about her all the time, pined for her, and now suffers all sorts of torment because she’s getting married.” Leonie’s heart beat faster. He truly loved her? Was it possible? But the mouse’s words gave her no comfort. She could never marry Renaldo and live among normal people. A tear rolled down her cheek before she even knew she was crying. Even if he did love her, she would still affect other men the same way. She would cause nothing but heartbreak and strife wherever she went. The mouse jumped on the stall door and patted her nose. “There now, don’t cry. I’m sure things will work out for the prince and his fair maiden. You shouldn’t get all worked up about it. I didn’t realize horses were so sentimental.” “I’m sorry. I don’t usually cry. So, are you ready to be transformed?” Leonie wanted to take her mind off Renaldo. “Hey, you don’t have to try. I’ll find a wizard some day who can turn me back into a human. For now, I’m all right as I am.” The mouse stroked her nose some more. “Strangely enough, I have this urge to pat your nose. You don’t mind, do you?” Leonie chuckled. “No. Now, stand on the floor. If I do it now, you’ll find yourself sitting on the door.” The mouse shrugged. “Have it your way. Don’t strain yourself though.” Leonie looked at him. At first, all she saw was a very small mouse, with brown fur and pink paws. But then she started to see the human he’d once been. The spell holding him in mouse form was a difficult one, but she understood it. It was like looking at a forest, and all of a sudden seeing each tree growing in it. The forest and the trees were inseparable. So were the mouse and the human he’d once been. Part of magic was learning to see what was really there.

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She reached out with her mind and gently undid the spell surrounding the mouse. It unlocked, springing apart, freeing the human within. An astonished young man sat in the straw. He wore the clothes he’d been wearing when he’d been spellcast, a woman’s frock, and a scarf covered his head. Leonie snorted with laughter. “What are you doing wearing a dress?” “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it! It’s a miracle! It’s amazing!” “It’s a man in women’s clothing. I’d love to hear the story,” said Leonie. He looked at her, then down at his body again. He touched himself all over, pulling his hair, tugging his nose, stamping his feet. Then he opened the door to Leonie’s stall and threw his arms around her neck. “Thank you, thank you, horsy.” “Don’t ever call me horsy. Now, explain the gown,” insisted Leonie. “Er, gown?” “I doubt that you challenged another wizard to a duel while wearing that dress.” Magic had its own set of rules, and one of them was you transformed with your clothes. They stayed the same. You had better not gain too much weight while you were enchanted. The young man looked abashed. “I, um, didn’t actually fight a duel. I was hiding, in fact, in a young lady’s closet. Her father, who was a rather powerful magician, didn’t take kindly to finding me there. But before I could explain, poof! I was transformed into a mouse. The house was near a seaport. I suppose I wasn’t thinking when I boarded the ship, but I just wanted to get as far away from the wizard as possible. I was hoping the spell would wear off or grow weaker, but it never did.” “Is that how you ended up on with Prince Renaldo? Was he on that ship?” Leonie asked. She hated the glum expression on the man’s face. He plucked at the dress and his mouth twisted in a

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way that made her think he was trying not to cry. “That’s all right. I understand.” She nuzzled him gently. He patted her nose. “I had just finished my magic courses. My own father was a magician, a small town fellow, to be sure, but talented. And I wanted to follow in his footsteps and become a wizard too, so he apprenticed me to a great master. But I fell in love with his daughter.” “Perhaps she is waiting for you,” said Leonie. “You’ll have to go find out. What’s your name, by the way?” “I’m called Claude. And it’s not clod, although that’s what I feel like. The girl I fell in love with lives in the far northern part of Querel. It’s been twelve months since I was transformed. She’s probably forgotten me by now. To tell the truth, I’ve sort of forgotten about her. What was her name anyway? Well, it’s of no matter. I’m here now, and that’s what counts.” Leonie said, “I’m sorry you were a mouse for so long.” “That’s all right. There were no cats on the ship. What about you? What’s your story? Why are you a horse?” “I have to stay like this for a while. I’ve got a charm on me, wild magic if you like. It makes it hard for people to see me as I really am,” she explained. She didn’t want to tell him that every man who saw her fell madly in love with her. For some reason, she was embarrassed about her charm. “Wild magic can be dangerous for those around you.” He nodded. “What will you do now?” “I’m a great magician, never fear. I’ll find a way to make myself useful. Perhaps I’ll challenge Sir Wulfe to a duel. If he couldn’t break my spell, he mustn’t be so powerful. He caused my friend Renaldo heartbreak and harm, and I mean to avenge him.”

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“No!” If he did that, then Sir Wulfe would know something was up. “I think the best thing for you to do would be to leave this place and go home. Please?” “I may be wearing a dress, and I may look ridiculous. But I’m no coward. I hid once, and look where it got me. No, I face my troubles head-on now. Renaldo is my friend, and he needs me. If everyone ran off when things got tough, where would we be?” “Safe at home,” said Leonie. “You must be from a different kingdom. Here in Querel we fight back.” “And just look where it’s gotten you!” Leonie tossed her head. “I’m from Windtide, and I know it’s a very small and insignificant kingdom, but it’s peaceful and prosperous. At least, I think it is. Truth be told, I haven’t been out in the world very much.” She sighed. “From what I saw of Querel, the civil war has been appalling. I hope that soon the princes will sign a peace treaty and stop dragging their people into battle.” Claude rubbed his head. “It seems that the common people always suffer for their leaders’ folly. If the princes really cared about their subjects, they would stop fighting completely. But obviously they care more about themselves.” “King Gustavo, the princes’ father, should put an end to this foolishness. He’s the king. Why doesn’t he do something?” “He’s very weak. From what I hear, Sir Wulfe has been trying to stop the war and reconcile the two princes, Alonzo and Hidalgo, for months.” Claude shrugged. “They will all be here tomorrow. Perhaps some good will come from this situation after all. I overheard Renaldo’s mother saying that the woman Sir Wulfe is to marry is the key to the whole situation, and that she should consider the good of the people instead of herself.” Leonie gave a start. “What do you think Renaldo should do?”

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“If I thought that any good would come from sacrificing my own wishes for the good of a whole country, I wouldn’t hesitate,” said Claude slowly. “I know it sounds harsh, but what is a simple love story compared to a whole country? If it can bring peace, then perhaps Renaldo should try to forget his lady-love. From what I saw, she is no longer smitten.” “Is that what you’re going to go tell him?” “What would you tell him?” Claude asked. Leonie dug her hoof in the straw. Now that she knew she could never marry Renaldo, she had to look at everything from a different angle. “I guess it would be selfish for the girl to refuse to help Sir Wulfe. After all, he’s doing a noble thing by trying to stop the war. Maybe she doesn’t even have to marry him. Maybe now that everyone is getting together, she can call the wedding off and explain that it was a ruse.” “I don’t think royalty like to be tricked. They are coming to have a good time, they don’t know yet that Sir Wulfe has prepared a treaty.” Before Leonie could comment, the door to the stables opened slightly, and a slim shadow squeezed through the narrow opening. Claude ducked behind the haystack, while Leonie prudently withdrew into the deep shadow of her stall. Evening had fallen, and the stables were dim. The person who’d just come in stubbed their toe and uttered an very unladylike oath in a feminine voice. “Ouch! Stupid Gorbellied folly-fallen giglet! Where is the light?” “Who goes there?” Claude cried, jumping out from behind the haystack with a pitchfork. Leonie gave a whinny as she recognized Sylvain, in her form. He stopped and stared at Claude. “Who are you?” he cried. Claude dropped the pitchfork. “Begging your pardon, my Lady. I was defending this horse, that’s all.”

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“Oh, that’s a good fellow. Yes, defend the horse.” Sylvain started to pet Leonie on the nose, and then seemed to realize Claude hadn’t answered his question. “I said, who are you? And what is a man doing dressed in a woman’s clothes in the stables?” Leonie snorted. “One might ask the same of you.” Sylvain jumped and swore again. “By pratsafats gizzardly gumzasats! Will you stop scaring me like that?” “Where did you pick up all those curses, Lady Leonie?” Claude inquired. “Prince Renaldo said you’d led a very sheltered life in an isolated castle, but I haven’t heard language like that since I was in the navy!” “I happened to serve two years on… Ouch!” Sylvain rubbed his shoulder where Leonie had nipped it. “I mean, we had a servant for two years who used to be in the navy.” He glared at Leonie. “Satisfied?” Claude narrowed his eyes. “Something strange is going on. You are not who you appear to be. I told you, I’m a very powerful wizard and I can feel these sort of things.” He patted his pockets and then looked down at the ground. “Where is my wand? I had it when I was transformed.” “And I suppose that Sir Wulfe can’t feel those sort of things?” Sylvain gave Claude a withering look. “For your information, I’ve managed to fool him. Why, he hasn’t found out that… Ouch!” Leonie nipped him harder this time. “Hush! Why don’t you hire a flock of Crow Callers to shout the news? Now be quiet!” Claude looked up from where he was on his hands and knees, searching in the straw. “I say, did that horse just give you an order?”

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“Yes.” Sylvain turned to Leonie and pointed to his shoulder. “Look at this! My new dress is torn! You know, you should have become a donkey. You are even bossier and more stubborn than your sister.” Leonie pinned her ears back and gave Sylvain an equine glare. “If you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in that form, I suggest you do as I say.” “Ah ha!” Claude stood up with a small stick in his hand. “Found it! Now, I will show you what I can do! Let’s see who you really are!” He pointed it at Sylvain, and before Leonie could do anything, he waved the wand. A shower of blue sparkles covered Sylvain, and to Leonie’s horror, her spell disappeared. Prince Sylvain reappeared, still wearing a dress, of course. “What have you done?” cried Sylvain. He jumped on Claude, trying to wrest his wand away from him. “Give me that!” “No, it’s mine! Get off me, you oaf!” Claude grunted as Sylvain landed on him. “Oaf? Why, I’ll teach you a thing or two!” “You tricked my friend Renaldo,” snarled Claude and managed to land a glancing punch on Sylvain’s chin. “You idiot, I had to! Do you think I like being a girl?” Sylvain kicked him and they rolled over, hay flying. Dismayed, Leonie opened her mouth to cry out when the stable door banged open. It was Sir Wulfe. He held a lantern above his head, and his face looked like a thundercloud bursting with hail and lightning. The lamplight fell on Claude and Sylvain in their dresses, wrestling. Sir Wulfe stopped and gaped. Prince Sylvain and Claude froze. Leonie squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the explosion. Instead, Sir Wulfe gave a sort of strangled cough and said, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Leonie. Someone said she was here looking for her father.” Leonie dared open her eyes again.

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Claude pulled out of Sylvain’s arms and glared at him. Then he got to his feet, turned to Sir Wulfe and said, “There’s no Leonie here, and no father either.” Sir Wulfe blinked, and his frown returned. “Just who are you, and what are you doing in my stables?” “Um, we’re…” Claude stopped, a blank expression on his face. “We’re Prince Alonzo’s jesters,” said Sylvain, standing and giving a deep bow. “We came along early to, er, rehearse.” Leonie was relieved to see that he stayed behind Claude and kept his head down, so Sir Wulfe wouldn’t see him and recognize him as the horse trainer. Claude gave a high-pitched laugh. “Oh yes, Prince Alonzo wanted to put on a play for your wedding. He asked us to whip something up so, here we are!” Sir Wulfe looked taken aback. “I didn’t know that Prince Alonzo like comedy. I thought he was more interested in classical drama.” Claude’s smile slipped a notch. “Fancy you knowing that. Well, he wanted to try something different I guess. Besides, we’re jesters, we don’t do drama.” “And this is supposed to be a surprise, so don’t say anything to your betrothed,” mumbled Sylvain from behind Claude. “Oh. All right. I’ll be looking forward to your play tomorrow. Um, have you seen my fiancée here? Someone said she’d come to the stables.” “No, we haven’t seen her. But if she does come in, we’ll tell her you’re looking for her.” Sir Wulfe started out the door then hesitated. Looking back over his shoulder, he said in a doubtful voice, “I’ll just leave you two alone then.” “Bye-bye,” said Claude, waving.

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When the door shut, Leonie let out the air she’d been holding in her lungs. All four of her legs were shaking. She swung around to face Claude. “Put the spell back on right this second!” she hissed, swishing her tail in agitation. “I don’t know. I was starting to feel lonely, being the only man in woman’s clothing around here,” said Claude. He rubbed his ribs and looked at Sylvain. “Were you hiding in a closet too when you were transformed into Lady Leonie? And what is your explanation for taking her place?” “It’s a very good one,” said Sylvain. “Now hurry, put me back as I was. If I’m caught here, it will put everyone in danger – Renaldo, the princes, and even the future of Querel!” “Fine, fine. I’ll do it. If it’s so important, why didn’t you say so before?” Claude waved his wand half-heartedly and Sylvain vanished while Leonie’s form reappeared. Leonie breathed a sigh of relief, then said, “Quick, go back to the castle. Be careful. Don’t let anyone see you, your dress is a ruin!” “Do I look like an idiot? No, don’t answer that.” Sylvain tried to straighten out his dress, but the tear was too large. “What, pray tell me, is your plan for tomorrow?” “I have no idea,” said Leonie. “You’ll have to take care of getting the two princes to sign the treaty by yourself. But I’ve no doubt you can do it. You were raised a prince, and you know how to talk to people.” Sylvain gave her a wide grin. “I think you are doing a good job talking to people too.” Then he left, walking carefully on his high heels. Leonie turned back to the hay net and wished horses weren’t so hungry all the time. Claude looked at his magic wand and gave an annoyed cry. “What is it?” Leonie asked. “It’s cracked. It must have been during the scuffle with…who was that young man anyway?” “He’s Sylvain, Prince Renaldo’s younger brother. Why?”

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Chapter Nineteen A Case of Mistaken Identity

Alonzo and Hidalgo were the two most conceited, arrogant, ill-mannered persons Renaldo had ever met. They arrived at the same time, and there was a fight to see who would enter the gate first. It seemed they would simply smash it. Both carriages crammed in side by side, the horses rearing and snorting, and then they got stuck. Shouting ensued, with each prince sticking his head out the carriage window and shaking his fist at their hapless drivers. Sir Wulfe, standing in the courtyard, frowned mightily. Renaldo, standing to the right of Sir Wulfe, glanced over at his mother, who looked positively scandalized. As a crown prince, Renaldo couldn’t conceive of acting in such a manner. But then the king of Querel arrived, thankfully by the back gate. His carriage, pulled by two tired, drooping horses plodded slowly into the courtyard. The carriage lurched to a stop when both horses walked straight into the hedge. The driver, obviously having fallen asleep, woke up with a start as the horses started to munch the leaves. The carriage door opened, and a very old man poked his head out and said, “Here we are. What’s all the fuss?” It had to be said that the shouting and swearing from the front gate had reached epic proportions. The old man was the King of Querel, and Sir Wulfe leapt forward to help him out of the carriage as the driver tried to pull the horses away from the hedge. But both horses had buried their heads in it, and couldn’t be moved.

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“For pity’s sake, Farouk, can’t you control the horses?” King Gustavo of Querel stood in the courtyard, his skinny legs visibly shaking as he leaned heavily on his cane. He cupped a hand around his ear and cocked his head in the direction of the front gate, nearly losing his balance. “Oh, that must be my dear boys. Such high-spirited young men. They do enjoy joking with each other.” Renaldo gave a start. The king of Querel was completely gaga. Sir Wulfe took his elbow and marched him to where Renaldo stood with his mother. “King Gustavo, I’d like you to meet some of my guests. Here is the Queen Rona of Windtide, and her son, Prince Renaldo. Queen Rona is a princess of Bromley, and is representing that mighty kingdom. And Renaldo is Windtide’s ambassador. “So very pleased to meet you, Madame,” said King Gustavo, grabbing Renaldo’s hand and bringing it to his lips. “Er, pleased to meet you too, your Highness,” said Renaldo. Rule number one, never contradict a king. His mother curtsied, and the King of Querel, apparently reaching for her hand, missed, and took hold of her fur stole. He shook it, and said, “Pleased to meet you, Prince Renaldo.” He let go of the fur and said to Sir Wulfe in a loud whisper, “Hirsute young man, isn’t he?” Sir Wulfe gave a hearty laugh, raising the hair on the back of Renaldo’s neck. He glanced over toward the front gate, where the ruckus had calmed somewhat. Two young men strode toward them. Faster and faster they walked; as if each wanted to be the first to arrive to salute their father. Renaldo surmised they were the princes, and he was right. “Father,” shouted the two men at once. They glared at each other, then jostled in order to kiss their father’s hand.

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King Gustavo stuck his hand out in front of him and squinted. “My dear boys! How nice to see you both. How are you, pray?” “Fine, Father,” they shouted in unison, then poked each other in the ribs with their elbows. “Stop it!” cried one. “You stop!” snarled the other. Renaldo shook his head and blinked. The two princes were twins, and they were exact copies of one another. Each had dark gold, wavy hair. Both had noses that crooked slightly to the left, and chins that jagged a bit to the right. “Boys, boys.” King Gustavo waved a gnarled finger in their direction. “We are guests at Sir Wulfe’s castle. I hope you will both be on your best behavior.” “Yes, Father!” they shouted, and each gave the other a sharp, swift kick in the shins before turning and bowing to Sir Wulfe. Renaldo started to think that peace would be impossible. “And this is Queen Rona of Windtide, and her son, Prince Renaldo.” Sir Wulfe gave Renaldo a little shove toward the twin princes. Without the slightest warmth, they greeted him, and then they kissed his mother’s hand. Then they turned back to their father. “Father, I…” began one. “How have…” “I wanted to…” “Can you…” “Would you be…” The two boys stopped, their faces growing red. “Must you always interrupt?” shrieked one.

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“I can’t get a word in edgewise with you around,” spat the other. “Just be quiet!” “Hush!” “Not another word!” Sir Wulfe stepped in hurriedly. “Your father is tired of standing. Let’s go have some refreshment and I will introduce you to my bride-to-be.” They hurried into the castle before any other quarrel ensued. Renaldo trailed after the others, still clumsy with his crutches. Stairs were the biggest trial, but he refused the butler’s offer of help and hopped carefully up the steps. Once inside, Renaldo clenched his crutches tightly. He both dreaded and longed to see Leonie again. When everyone was seated in the comfortable study, Sir Wulfe stood and cleared his throat. “King Gustavo of Querel, Queen Rona of Windtide, Princes Alonzo and Hidalgo, and Prince Renaldo, I present Leonie, my betrothed. The door opened. Leonie walked in, dressed in a shimmering blue robe, her hair braided with pearls. “Come in, my dear,” said Sir Wulfe. He took her arm and led her into the room. “Come meet the princes and King Gustavo.” “What a lovely girl,” cried King Gustavo, clapping his hands. “Where did you find her, Sir Wulfe?” “In Windtide,” said Leonie, giving a curtsy. “I’m so pleased to meet you, your Highness. I’ve heard so much about you.” The king, charmed, kissed her hand while Renaldo kept an eye on Leonie. She hadn’t even glanced his way. His heart ached.

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“And those are my sons,” said King Gustavo. “One is named Alonzo, and one is called Hidalgo.” The king pointed vaguely in their direction. “Nice boys, both of them.” Leonie went to stand in front of the princes. They stood from their chairs and opened their mouths at the same time. “No, no! Don’t say a thing!” she cried, blinking her eyelashes coyly. “You must be Alonzo. And you are Hidalgo!” It didn’t seem to Renaldo as though she looked straight at either as she said that, but the two princes were thunderstruck. “Why, yes!” cried one. “I am Alonzo!” “And I’m Hidalgo.” And to Renaldo’s amazement, the two princes began to cry. Huge teardrops rolled down their cheeks as they stared at Leonie. “I’m so glad to meet you, Alonzo,” she said, reaching for one prince’s hand. “And you, Hidalgo. What an honor.” She took his hand as well. The princes finally stopped crying long enough for one to say, “No one has ever told us apart before.” His twin nodded. “Even Father can’t tell us apart. He just says, ‘boys’, or ‘you two’, when he talks to us.” “That’s not a reason to detest each other,” said Leonie, a note of pity in her voice. “I have an idea. Hidalgo, stay here. Alonzo, come with me. We won’t be but a minute,” she said to Sir Wulfe. “But… but…” the wizard looked flummoxed. And well he might, thought Renaldo. He was just as confused. Leonie was not acting like the Leonie he thought he knew. There had been pure mischief in her eyes as she took the prince from the room, and as she’d left, she’d finally looked at him, but instead of a tender smile, she’d given him a wink. A wink?

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Afterward, there was a rather strained silence as everyone tried to imagine what Leonie and Alonzo were doing. Sir Wulfe cupped his hand in his chin and looked thoughtful. Renaldo’s mother, the queen, sat perfectly still, being used to long, boring, diplomatic functions. King Gustavo nodded his head as if he were listening to some music, and Hidalgo started to chew his fingernails. Renaldo began to feel sorry for the two princes. The door opened and everyone turned, and gasped. Alonzo’s wavy gold hair had vanished. His head was shorn, and all that was left was a blond stubble. He had even inked in a moustache over his lips. He went to stand next to his brother. “Prodigious!” he shouted. “Remarkable!” bellowed Hidalgo, for there was no doubt now who was whom. The two boys rose and planted themselves in front of their father. “I’m Alonzo!” said the mustached prince with the short hair. “And I’m Hidalgo!” cried the prince with the long, wavy hair. They hopped apart, rushed around in a circle, and went to their father once more. “Who are we?” they yelled in unison. The king blinked. “Why, you’re Alonzo! When did you grow a moustache? It’s very nice. And Hidalgo, you’re there, on the left. It’s like magic! I can tell them apart!” The two princes fell into each others arms. Tears flowed anew. “My brother!” cried Alonzo. “My dearest brother,” sobbed Hidalgo. Wiping their eyes they turned to Leonie. Alonzo spoke. “Since we were born, our parents dressed us alike, coifed us alike, and treated us alike. They never made the slightest effort to tell

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us apart, and it never occurred to us that we could change ourselves. I even got confused at times as to who I really was!” “Me too. I was always mixing myself up with my brother. Was I him? Was he me? Were we both of us? It made my life impossible. The only thing I could think of doing was splitting the kingdom and becoming an individual. Someone not like my brother.” “But it was foolishness, I see that now.” Alonzo beamed at his brother. “How wonderful, peace at last for Querel!” Renaldo’s mother stood and applauded. “Sir Wulfe, your plan was a success. Why don’t you have the princes sign the treaty now, before lunch, so we can continue the festivities and get the marriage over with?” Renaldo watched Sir Wulfe carefully. His skin had turned the color of old milk. He’d gone paler and paler as the princes hugged each other. But there was little he could do except keep a smile pasted on his face, although it had gotten so stiff it was ghastly. “Well, what a wonderful denouement!” cried Leonie. Denouement? That was a diplomatic term for a conclusion. How would Leonie know that? Renaldo blinked and rubbed his eyes. There was something wrong with Leonie’s hair. It was getting shorter, and turning darker. And as she laughed, her voice suddenly deepened. Everyone noticed and turned to stare at her. Her face wobbled, and then, to Renaldo’s shock, she turned into his brother, Sylvain. Everyone in the room uttered a collective gasp. Renaldo grabbed at his crutches and tried to stand, shock making his hands clammy. Before Renaldo could utter a word, Sir Wulfe leapt up. His face flushed, he pointed at Sylvain. “What is that person doing here?” he bellowed. Then he stopped and his face turned even more purple. “Why, you’re the horse trader who set off after the unicorn!” “Horse trader?” The queen clapped her hands to her face in horror. “That’s no horse trader. That’s my son, Sylvain! What are you doing here?” she cried.

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Chapter Twenty The Unicorn Hunt

Sir Wulfe recovered first. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wand, but Renaldo’s mother was quicker. She leapt between him and Sylvain, blocking whatever magic he’d intended for the young man. Renaldo had lifted himself off the chair in a vain attempt to cross the room. He’d seen the murderous look in Sir Wulfe’s eye and had feared the worst. His mother’s courage impressed him, and her next words warmed his heart. “Sir Wulfe! Lower your wand! Aren’t you glad that there is now peace in your kingdom?” she said. “King Gustavo, your sons have reconciled because of my son’s ingeniousness. I think he should be rewarded, don’t you?” “Rewarded?” trumpeted Sir Wulfe. “Actually, I think it’s an excellent idea. This young man is quite clever. I didn’t know your son was a magician, Madame,” said King Gustavo to the Queen. To Sir Wulfe, he said, “My old friend, your plan has worked marvelously. What a feast we’ll have tonight. Your pretending to get married was quite a trick. But we fell for it, didn’t we, Alonzo, and you, Hidalgo.” The twins, thrilled to have their father recognize them, nodded happily. “Oh yes!” they chorused. “Praise for Sir Wulfe and clever Prince Sylvain!” Sir Wulfe’s gaze on the queen hadn’t thawed one bit, but he smiled. It was not a nice smile. He looked at Sylvain. “What a clever prince indeed. You went searching for my fiancée and came back in her disguise. I wonder who transformed you. And where Leonie is.” Sylvain spoke up bravely. “I think the princes would be pleased to start signing right away. As for me, I believe I’ll go change.”

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Sir Wulfe leaned toward him. In a low voice, he murmured, “I think you’ve changed enough for one day. From horse trader to Leonie to prince. I wonder what other surprises you have in store? So, failing to find the unicorn, you decided to trick me instead. Her father certainly had a hand in this. Even as a snake, he managed to transform you. Well, I’ll be more careful in the future.” He hesitated, and a spark appeared in his eyes. “I thought there was something strange about you when you arrived, but I was sure I sensed Leonie. I did, didn’t I? She’s the gray mare. Clever. Very clever. She’s not a unicorn anymore. So her father transformed her as well!” King Gustavo spoke up. “Did I hear something about a unicorn? Why, I haven’t been on a unicorn hunt since my youth. How splendid!” “A unicorn hunt?” Renaldo felt a stab of fear. He looked at Sylvain, who shook his head, not understanding. Sir Wulfe, however, grinned broadly. “Why, yes, I mentioned a unicorn. It seems there is one in my woods. I shall tell my gamekeeper to arrange a hunt for this afternoon.” “What an excellent idea!” cried Prince Hidalgo. “What a grand fête you’ve organized, Sir Wulfe!” “I’ll make sure the gray mare finds her way into the forest this afternoon,” said Sir Wulfe in a low voice to Renaldo. “It’s an easy spell to add a horn upon her head. The hounds will tear her to pieces.” “You can’t do that!” Renaldo whispered, feeling the blood drain from his head. He suddenly felt ill. Sir Wulfe smiled nastily, then rang a bell, and a servant came in with a bow. Sir Wulfe said to him, “Get the hunting dogs ready.” He swept from the room calling for his servants to attend to him. Renaldo grabbed Sylvain’s arm. “Help me to the stables, please!”

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Sylvain and he ducked out of the room and made their way to the stables. Once there, he went straight to the gray mare’s stall and leaned over the doorway. “Leonie!” he cried. The gray mare gave a start. “Renaldo! What are you doing here?” “I might ask the same of you,” said Renaldo, pushing on the lever to open the stall door. “I don’t know what is going on, but Sir Wulfe is up to no good.” “Yes, I know. He has no wish for the princes to sign a peace treaty. I think he wants to profit from Querel’s civil war to have himself elected king. It won’t be the first time a wizard has taken over a country.” Renaldo pulled the door open. “Well, his plan went awry. The two princes are best of friends now, thanks to Sylvain, and they’re planning on signing the treaty right after the unicorn hunt.” “Unicorn hunt?” Leonie raised her head. “Sir Wulfe has told everyone that there is a unicorn in the woods, and he means to have them chase you. With his magic, he can make everyone think you’re a unicorn, or perhaps he will transform you again. At any rate, you are in terrible danger!” “What happened to Sylvain? Why is he back in his own form?” “I have no idea. One minute he was you, and everyone was fooled, including me, and the next minute he was back to being Prince Sylvain. In a dress.” “I should have known. Claude, you are a hopeless magician.” Leonie spoke to a small pile of straw. A mouse poked its head out. “Hello!” He waved. “Yes, that’s me. Claude, a not-so-powerful magician. My wand was cracked. Sorry.” “Hey!” cried Sylvain, “why aren’t you in human form?”

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“I only had that dress to wear. I asked to be turned back into a mouse until I got some decent clothes.” He climbed up Sylvain’s dress and sat on his shoulder. Renaldo looked at Leonie. “Did your father turn you into a horse? Was all this his plan?” “Not exactly.” Leonie sighed, her eyes sad. “It wasn’t much of a plan anyway. I just wanted to give Querel a chance at peace, and now I’m not sure what will happen. I’m worried about you, Renaldo. Sir Wulfe doesn’t have a good excuse to force me to marry him anymore. His mischief has been averted, and I’m afraid he’ll take revenge on you somehow.” “I’m worried about you. Sir Wulfe will make it seem to everyone that you’re a unicorn. They’ll be shooting arrows at you!” “I don’t trust Sir Wulfe, but I doubt he wants to kill me. After all, he wanted to marry me, didn’t he?” “He said his hounds would tear you apart.” “He said that?” Leonie shook her head. “You must have misunderstood. He said he loved me. Why would he want to harm me?” Renaldo shook his head. “He did! This is serious!” “I have to tell you something, Renaldo, and then I’ll…” she broke off and turned her head. “I hear footsteps. Who’s coming?” Sylvain dashed to the doorway and called over his shoulder. “It’s Sir Wulfe. What should we do?” “I’ll create a diversion. Renaldo, Sylvain – promise me you’ll get away from here as fast as possible,” Leonie said. Renaldo saw the gray horse start to shimmer. A soft light engulfed it, and then, to his amazement, a unicorn appeared.

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“They wanted a unicorn hunt,” said Leonie in a breathless voice. She whirled, and in a twinkling, ran to Renaldo and touched him lightly with the tip of her glorious horn. “I can’t stay cooped up in this form, and I can’t talk for long. I’ll be all right. Please go back to Windtide. Please.” Renaldo held his breath. The unicorn’s eyes changed as he looked at them. Leonie’s gentle expression turned as clear as rock crystal, and a frosted, wild chill seemed to settle in her eyes. Renaldo thought he saw an endless forest in her gaze, and then the unicorn whirled and streaked from the stables. Shouts, an angry bellow from Sir Wulfe, and a woman’s shriek sounded from the courtyard. Renaldo sank to the ground, and Sylvain tugged at his sleeve. “She’ll be all right,” said Sylvain. “It’s not that,” Renaldo whispered. “I saw the expression in her eyes. She isn’t ever coming back.”

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Chapter Twenty One Sacrifice

Renaldo looked at Sylvain. Sylvain couldn’t read Renaldo’s expression. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I really thought you were Leonie,” said Renaldo. He hopped over to a pile of straw near the doorway and leaned on it. “Will you tell me how you came to take her place, and why?” “I came after you,” said Sylvain. “When you disappeared, I decided to search for you. I thought you were in Castle Veil, so that’s where I went first, but there was only Ann and her father. So I went to see Sir Wulfe, only, for some reason, he transformed Leonie into a unicorn and then asked me to go find her. Our mother didn’t want me to get involved. She wrote to me and told me not to do anything.” “She found out Leonie was responsible for my leaving home,” Renaldo said. He gave a crooked grin. “She still has her nose out of joint about Leonie’s mother and our father, I’m afraid.” Sylvain raised his eyebrows. “That’s what Leonie said. Anyway, I came here incognito and Sir Wulfe sent me after her, not knowing who I really was.” “You didn’t tell him?” “No. I told him I was a…” “A horse trainer.” Renaldo nodded. “I wondered about that. So he hired you to seek out Leonie.” Sylvain saw Renaldo draw a deep breath. “I love her.” Sylvain decided the best thing would be to tell all. “Of course you love her. She’s full of wild magic. Why do you think her father never let her out of Castle Veil? She’s got a charm on her.

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Any man who sees her falls in love with her. They can’t help it. ‘Twas the same with her mother. Our father saw her and was besotted. But it’s nothing but a charm.” Renaldo took a step back, forgetting about his leg. He fell with a crash. Sylvain closed his eyes. He couldn’t stand to see his brother’s desolate expression. “And you? Did you fall in love with her? Look at me!” Renaldo shouted. He groped for his crutches and stood up again. His face was very white. “For a while. It wore off when I didn’t see her.” “Well, it didn’t wear off for me. I love her. I still love her. It has nothing to do with magic,” said Renaldo. He spoke very clearly. “I realize that now,” whispered Sylvain. “But you have to understand. You can never marry her. She can never live… with people,” he finished lamely. “You’re going to be king. She can never be your queen.” “We’ll see about that,” said Renaldo. But right now we have to stop the hunt,” he said, turning toward the door. “Hurry up and change.” “I’ll try my best, but I don’t have any idea how I’ll manage that,” said Sylvain, but he found himself speaking to an empty stable. Renaldo had gone. Sylvain dashed to his room and dressed in haste, but as he started to leave, a small voice said, “Will you take me with you? I don’t want to be forgotten here.” It was the mouse. “Of course!” Sylvain picked him up and tucked him in his pocket. In the courtyard, Sir Wulfe, his mother, and the King of Querel stood near the king’s carriage, while the two princes mounted prancing horses. Grooms held two other horses, presumably for Sir Wulfe and his mother. The crunching sound of the horses’ hooves on the gravel was loud, but didn’t cover the noise of the baying hounds. Held on long leashes by the huntsmen, the hounds whined and barked, and strained to get free.

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Sylvain’s mother fanned herself with her hand. “I saw it. It dashed right across the courtyard. Heavens, if I hadn’t seen it, I never would have believed it. A unicorn!” she said, her eyes shining. She caught sight of Sylvain. “Fetch a horse, do hurry! There is a unicorn. I’ve seen it! Oh, what are you carrying? What’s in your pocket?” Sylvain looked for Renaldo but didn’t see him, so he pointed and said, “It’s Renaldo’s friend, the talking mouse.” “A talking mouse!” cried the king of Querel, clapping his hands. “I do love magic tricks. I just love watching the Crow Callers. I’m like a child when they come. I love to see them transform. Such fun magic!” The princes, riding side by side, trotted up and chimed in. They too, it seemed, wanted to hear the mouse talk, so Claude greeted them and recited a little poem. Sylvain started to hope he could put the hunt off with the talking mouse, but Sir Wulfe would have none of it. The magician smiled, but the look he gave Sylvain was full of venom. “Put the mouse back in your pocket. He might get hurt.” Then Sir Wulfe glared at his huntsmen. “Loose the hounds. We’re ready to go.” “Can’t you wait just a…” Sylvain got no further. The dogs, freed from their leads, surged past him on the way to the forest. “Hurry and get your horse!” cried Sylvain’s mother, and she clambered onto her mount, settling her skirts with a practiced flick. She was a competent rider. Sir Wulfe climbed onto his horse, a dark gray stallion, and, with an irritated glance at Sylvain, cantered out of the courtyard, leading the group. King Gustavo, too frail to hunt, was helped by two servants back to the castle. Sylvain thought the best thing to do would be to go back to the castle with King Gustavo and wait for his mother to return, then insist that they take Renaldo

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back to Windtide. Their father must be frantic with worry. He decided to summon a Crow Caller, and had just taken the first step toward the castle when the sound of hoof beats stopped him. Renaldo, perched on the back of a tall, bay horse, trotted from the stables. His face was set, and his eyes flashed. “Where do you think you are going?” cried Sylvain, running to head him off. “To save Leonie.” Renaldo leaned forward and the horse broke into a gallop. Even with one leg, Renaldo still rode well. “No, you’ll hurt yourself!” Sylvain tried to grab the horse’s reins, but it was moving too fast. Renaldo didn’t slow. “If she dies, I might as well die too,” he called over his shoulder. Then he disappeared into the forest, taking the same path the others had. Sylvain made a face and looked toward the castle. “I suppose I better go on a unicorn hunt. Leonie might not need me, but my brother does.” # Renaldo caught up with the rest of the group at the same time the lead hound leapt into the air and gave a particularly loud bark. A faint white shape darted like smoke through the trees, and everyone shouted at once. Sir Wulfe turned and saw Renaldo. He gave him a thin smile. “So, you had to come see her again,” he said. Renaldo checked the rage that boiled suddenly in his veins and managed to keep his voice level. “I’ve come to make sure no harm comes to her.” Sir Wulfe glanced at the queen, then slowed his horse to canter next to Renaldo’s. “Your brother is a fool. Why did he meddle in my affairs? Why did he go off seeking Leonie?” “He was searching for me, not Leonie. I suppose he thought she could help him find me.” “Plausible.”

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“Do you know about her wild magic?” The look Sir Wulfe gave him was startled. “Of course I knew.” He slowed his horse down even more. “Don’t you understand? She can never live among men. In my castle she would have been safe, respected… loved,” he added, in a softer voice. Renaldo snorted. “Love? What do you know about love? Love doesn’t mean putting someone in a gilded cage. It means setting them free.” “And I suppose you will let her go?” Sir Wulfe’s sneer was back. “She scorned me and made a fool of me. She spoiled years of careful planning. The princes signed the treaty, and now the twin halfwits are friends once again. It’s all Leonie’s fault. I am going to teach her a lesson.” He kicked his horse and surged ahead. “The hounds are on her trail. She won’t get far. They are enchanted, as are the paths she runs upon. They lead in circles, so she cannot escape.” Renaldo’s first thought was to urge his horse faster to catch up with the magician. But then he reflected that if the paths led in a circle, speed would make no difference. He tried to recall where he’d caught sight of the ethereal unicorn. He turned around and looked for the place, and once he’d found it, he pulled his horse to a halt. The noise of the hounds died away as he stood there. It grew colder. His horse snorted and stomped its hooves. Renaldo pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders and waited. There came the faint sound of the hounds again. Their voices, bell-like in the chill air, grew steadily louder. And then, through the trees, he saw a flash of silver. For a second he thought he dreamed it, then the unicorn came into view. She appeared like moonlight when the cloud moves away – silent and luminous. When she caught sight of him, she stopped in her tracks. Renaldo slid off his horse. He hadn’t thought to bring his crutches, so he had to lean upon its withers. “Leonie,” he said. The unicorn shook its head violently and darted a glance at the deep woods.

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“The paths are enchanted. Sir Wulfe has caused them all to lead in circles. You’re trapped, no matter which way you go. Come with me. I will protect you.” He shivered as her opalescent gaze raked over him. Her eyes were both assured and yet frightened. “Please, Leonie.” He hesitated. “I know the spell that is upon you, but I swear, I swear by all I hold dear, I love you. The charm has no effect on me. It’s you I love, not your magic.” He let go of his horse and hopped toward her. His horse shied suddenly, and he lost his balance. Before he could fall she was there. “Thank you,” he said. “If you keep your arms around me, I won’t be able to flee,” she whispered. Her eyes begged him to let go. “If you try to run away, you will only run in circles.” “I’ll escape.” There was an edge of panic in her voice. The noise of the hounds grew louder. Renaldo thought of what Sir Wulfe had said. He’d been right. He couldn’t set her free. Especially knowing that she would be caught, eventually. “I can’t let you go,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” The unicorn trembled in his arms. “Please!” “No. I want Sir Wulfe to change you back.” “He can’t do that. Only I can change myself.” He had no time to wonder what she meant. Behind her, he saw the dogs appear through the trees. He meant to warn her, to say something, but at that very minute he found himself holding Leonie and not a unicorn. “Renaldo, I…” she started to speak, then everything happened at once. The hunters poured out of the woods, along with the pack of hounds. The princes of Querel were in the lead. Behind them galloped his mother and Sir Wulfe. With a spray of gravel and dirt, the horses slid to a halt, tossing their heads and snorting loudly. The dogs froze, their bodies

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tense. Everything stopped. Time stood still, but only for a heartbeat. Then Sir Wulfe cried, “Let her go! She’s mine.” His face was purple with jealous ire. “Renaldo! I order you to release her!” His mother’s voice shook with rage. “No!” Renaldo replied. In an instant, the dogs surged forward like a cresting wave. Everyone cried out at once. The huntsmen raised their horns and blew, and the whips surged forward to try to control the pack. “Get back, get back!” they bellowed. The hounds fell upon Leonie. Her scent was the same as the unicorn’s. They didn’t realize she’d changed. Leonie screamed, and Renaldo whirled around to protect her. He stumbled and fell, trying to cover Leonie with his body as the dogs tore at her. Everything was a roiling melee. He felt the hot breath from the rushing hounds on his neck and hands, and there came the sound of tearing silk and screams. Jaws latched onto his arm and back, but he didn’t let go of Leonie. “Stop, stop them I say!” It was Sylvain, leaping into the fray and pulling the dogs off, flinging them to the side. Suddenly a strong wind rose, and picked him up. Renaldo was face downward, so he saw everything. The hounds, the hunters, Sir Wulfe and the royal party all dwindled as Sylvain, Leonie, and he rose as if cupped in a giant hand made of soft air. The breeze carried them over the forest and toward the setting sun. Sylvain sat numbly, staring at them. In his arms, Leonie huddled and shook. Renaldo tried to say something, but the wind took his voice away. He held onto Leonie and tried not to panic. He wanted to ask her how she felt or if she was badly wounded, but the noise was too great, even if this whirlwind was gentler than any he’d seen. After what seemed a very long time, it deposited them in the courtyard of Castle Veil.

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“Are you all right?” he cried, as the wind finally ceased. But she didn’t answer, she just lay curled in a tight ball, her face hidden in her arms. He tried to turn her over, but she moaned with pain. His hands, he noted with horror, were red with blood. Some of it was his, but most was Leonie’s. “Leonie!” he cried again. Then he turned toward his brother. “Sylvain, help me!” The front door banged open and Ann and Sir Casper dashed out. Ann came first, holding her skirts high, her face very pale. “Leonie!” she screamed, dropping to her knees next to her sister. Their father arrived and knelt by Leonie’s still form. He touched her gently. “Leonie, can you hear me?” he asked. She gave a sort of shiver. “Ann, go prepare her room and tell Cook to put water on to boil. Hurry!” Ann got up, and, wringing her hands, ran back into the manor. Renaldo was still sitting next to Leonie. He dared not touch her. A small trickle of blood had appeared beneath her. Wordlessly he pointed to it. Sir Casper uttered a cry and pulled his daughter over but Leonie kept her hands pressed to her face. Between her fingers ran ribbons of blood. “We have to get her inside,” said Sir Casper to Sylvain. Sylvain didn’t waste any time. He scooped Leonie in his arms and hurried up the stairs. To Renaldo the wizard said, “You can wait in the kitchen. I’ll be down to tend to you in a while.” He didn’t pause for an answer, but ran into the manor, calling for someone named Bob to fetch his dried herbs. Renaldo wanted to help, but he couldn’t even walk. Without his crutches, he had to hop and crawl up the steps. His arms and back hurt terribly. He wanted to find Leonie, but in the kitchen a short, round woman grabbed Renaldo firmly by the sleeve. “Sit down, young man.” She pointed

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to a chair. With a no-nonsense look, she bade him take his vest and shirt off. Then she brought over a basin of water and washed his arms and back. “You have some nasty bites, but they are not deep. Your leather vest helped greatly.” She bound up his arm after slathering a bright yellow salve on it and gave him a clean shirt. “I’d like to go see Leonie,” said Renaldo. “You’ll just be in the way. Sir Casper is a good healer, you can trust him to do his best.” Ann rushed into the kitchen a moment later. “How is she?” Renaldo asked, rising from his chair. Ann stopped and looked at him. “She’s been terribly mauled.” Her face crumpled. “I need some more hot water.” She took a cloth to protect her hands and lifted the kettle from the stove. Then she turned to Cook and said, “This is Sylvain’s brother, Prince Renaldo. Renaldo, this is Cook. Can you get the guest room ready for him?” Cook nodded. “You look like your brother.” She watched as Ann left the room, then patted his shoulder soothingly. “There now, you look worn out. I’ll make you some tea.” He protested, but she bustled about the kitchen, getting another kettle from the cabinet and filling it with water from the sink. The manor was old, but it had all the modern conveniences like running water and copper heating pipes, Renaldo saw. When the tea was brewed, he sipped it gratefully. The pain in his arm and back had nearly faded. Then Cook disappeared for a while to prepare a room a room for him. A man came in and dropped off a bucket of fresh milk and a basket of eggs. He introduced himself as Bob and didn’t say anything else, but went back outside and came back a while later with a pair of crutches. Again, he said nothing but propped the crutches next to Renaldo. “Thank you,” said Renaldo. The crutches looked a bit dusty, as if they’d been sitting in a shed for a while. Cook bustled over and wiped them with a damp cloth, all the while chattering about

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nothing in particular. But Renaldo found the gentle chit-chat about the cow, the rose hip tea, the garden, and the early frost soothing. Sylvain came downstairs and Cook treated his bites too. He’d been bitten on his hands and on his legs. He winced as Cook bandaged him up. “How is she?” “I don’t know. The magician chased me out of the room.” Sylvain sighed. “I’m sure she’ll be all right.” “How are you?” “All right, I suppose.” Sylvain made a face. Sir Casper said he’d send for a Crow Caller so we can tell our parents what’s going on. Our mother is probably mad with worry.” Evening turned to night, and the night deepened. The Crow Caller came and took the princes’ message to the king and queen of Windtide. Renaldo’s worry about Leonie did not abate. Then Sir Casper came into the kitchen. Renaldo noted that he’d changed his robe and washed. “How is she?” he asked, for what seemed the hundredth time. The wizard sat at the table. “Her face will be scarred, but otherwise she is all right. Here, let me see your arm.” Sir Casper gently unwrapped the bandage and examined Renaldo’s wounds. His expression never changed, but Renaldo could sense his fury. Two red spots appeared on his otherwise pale cheeks as he replaced the bandage. “The muscle is torn, but it will heal with no complications,” he said, his voice faltering. He looked at Sylvain’s bites too, and then put his hands on their shoulders. “Thank you for saving my daughter. Without you, she would have been torn to pieces. Sir Wulfe has made a grave mistake. Tonight I will draft letters to the magicians’ guild. I also need

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to speak to your father. I will summon him tonight with one of my whirlwinds. It would be best if I did it while your mother is still in Querel. You can give him your version of the story alone.” “I sent a message by Crow Caller, but I agree that it would be best to talk to him in person.” Renaldo’s whole body began to tremble. He put his hands flat on the table and pressed down hard. “Can I see her?” Sir Casper nodded. “If you wish. She’s asleep. I gave her a potion.” “I’ll take him upstairs, sir,” said Cook. She put a pile of dishes on the table and motioned for Renaldo to follow her. To Sylvain she said, “I’ll be right back down to fix you some dinner. You look famished.” The crutches were a bit short for him, and his arm still hurt, but Renaldo managed. The stairway was wide and the stone steps shallow. A long, red and blue rug covered the floor in the upstairs hallway. It was worn in the middle. Cook led Renaldo to a gray wooden door with a crystal doorknob. Renaldo turned the knob and pushed the door open. On a narrow bed beneath a tall window, Leonie lay without moving. The curtains were drawn; soft light came from the fireplace in the corner of the room, and from lamps set on the table at the foot and at the head of her bed. There were two chairs in the room. Ann sat in one, and in the other was a tall, pale man with a thatch of straw colored hair and pale blue eyes. “How is she?” Renaldo asked Ann. Ann’s eyes were swollen and her cheeks were sticky with tears, but she managed a smile. “Don’t look so worried. She’s going to live.” The pale young man stood. In a low voice, he said, “Here, take my seat, Renaldo.” “Thank you.” Renaldo paused. “Have we met before?” “I’m Claude. The mouse.” The man gave a crooked grin.

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Renaldo blinked. “You were in Sylvain’s pocket. Did Leonie’s father change you back?” “Yes, he did. And he gave me some clothes.” He tilted his head up and sniffed the air. “That smells like dinner. If you’ll excuse me, Lady Ann, I think I’d like to go wash up.” Only then did Renaldo notice his bloodstained hands. Seeing the direction of his gaze, Claude said, “I’m a magician, so I helped Sir Casper.” “You did a marvelous job, thank you,” Ann said. She stood and said, “Renaldo, I’m going to show Claude to his room and get him settled. Will you watch Leonie for a while? If she starts to wake up, call for my father.” “Of course.” Renaldo moved the chair closer to Leonie. When the door closed behind Ann and Claude, he leaned over to look at her carefully. Her face was heavily bandaged, as were both her arms. One of her hands was bandaged, but the other was not, so he reached over and took it, holding it as carefully as he could. Her hand felt warm, but terribly fragile. He felt tears running down his cheeks, but didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except Leonie. He knew his mother and father would be frantic with worry, but that made no difference to him either. Even his lost leg seemed unimportant. A leg he could afford to lose, but not Leonie. How could he go back to his kingdom without her? As he held her hand and gazed at her, it occurred to him that he simply could not. From outside, he heard the unmistakable sound of a whirlwind. He stood, leaned carefully over Leonie’s bed, and parted the curtain. Her room overlooked the courtyard. In the dark, it was hard to see who had arrived. But then the front door opened and yellow light spilled out. Renaldo drew his breath in. His father stood in the courtyard. King Miles was red of hair, ruddy of cheek, and notoriously short of temper. Renaldo had always been a little afraid of his powerful father, all the while doing everything to please him. The king hesitated a minute. Obviously he had been summoned by Sir Casper’s whirlwind, and that form of transportation was

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reserved for emergencies. Renaldo could understand his father’s unease. Also, he’d never concealed his contempt for the wizard of Windtide. Sylvain appeared on the steps and his father looked up, an expression of relief on his face. They embraced, and went into the manor. After what seemed a very short lapse of time, Renaldo heard footsteps on the stairs, and the door opened. His father strode in, followed by Sir Casper. “Leave us,” said King Miles, not even glancing at the wizard. The wizard bowed, and left, closing the door softly behind him. “Father.” Renaldo stood, balanced on his one leg. His father’s face turned ashen. “I heard you’d lost your leg. But seeing it is altogether different. What happened? Why did you fight in a war that didn’t concern you?” “I had no choice at first. Sir Wulfe banished me with a whirlwind, and sent me far to the north of Querel. A recruiter found me, and it was either join the fight, or lose my life. I preferred to take my chance on the ship.” “But, afterward, you could have told the captain!” His father’s voice rose, and Leonie stirred, moaning softly. “At first I was afraid I’d be ransomed, and I didn’t want that.” Renaldo spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. He sat back on the chair and looked at Leonie. She was motionless except for the slight movement of her chest as she breathed. “I got to know the men on board. I fought with them, and they were my comrades in arms. After a while, I couldn’t tell anyone who I was, because I didn’t want to abandon my friends. Can you understand that?” His father pulled up the other chair and sat in it, leaning toward him. “Yes, I think I can. I fought too, you know. When Bromley took the south of Windtide, I was there. We lost more than just land. We lost many good men. I’ve always rued losing the south of Windtide, but losing my

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men hurt more. Good men are impossible to replace.” He paused. “I heard you’d come here to ask for this woman’s hand in marriage. Is that true?” Renaldo took a deep breath. “Yes. This is Leonie.” His father shifted on his chair, making it creak. “Sir Casper told me what happened. I agreed to back his complaint with the wizards’ guild.” “Thank you, Father.” “I did it also for you. Sir Wulfe overstepped his bounds.” “Has my mother returned yet?” “No, she’ll be returning by coach. The queen’s guard is with her. She will be safe,” he said, anticipating Renaldo’s next question. Renaldo nodded. For a while they sat in silence. Then he took a deep breath, and said, “Father, did you know that Leonie’s mother had a charm of wild magic upon her?” His father gave a start. In the firelight, his eyes glittered. “I heard it only after she died.” He twisted his hands together. “The charm held me in its sway. I would have given up my kingdom for her. Luckily, my parents and advisors convinced me that my duty lay with my country.” Renaldo looked at Leonie, lying as still as a wax statue on the bed. He reached over and took her hand. “How did the negotiations go in Bromley?” His father shrugged. “I didn’t get to finish.” “Thank you for coming.” His father looked at him sharply. “I thought to arrange a marriage for you with one of your cousins. But the news about Querel stopped me.” “Stopped you? Why?” His father leaned his elbows on his knees. “I will fight for Windtide. I won’t let Bromley swallow us whole. When I heard that the princes of Querel had ceased fighting, I closed my own

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negotiations. Bromley isn’t interested in peace. It wants all of Windtide, then it will turn its attention to Querel. So far, the only thing protecting Querel is the mountain range.” “How did you hear about the princes?” “Your mother sent a Crow Caller to me with the news. She said it was Sylvain’s doing, somehow.” “It was.” Renaldo gave a soft chuckle, then sobered. “I will fight for Windtide as well. I can still sit on a horse, and battle holds no fear for me.” “We haven’t declared war yet, and I’ll put it off as long as possible. If Bromley wants to make trouble, it will, but I’ve abandoned hope of recovering the southern lands we lost. The negotiations were getting nowhere. All they want is to put your cousins on my throne. I refused.” Renaldo thought for a minute. “Does that mean that the succession has been altered?” The look his father gave him seemed to penetrate right through his skull. “Yes. It means Sylvain will be next in line. Why? Have you second thoughts about becoming king?” “Yes.” It was always best to be direct and truthful with his father. “Has she inherited her mother’s charm then?” “Yes, but it doesn’t matter,” said Renaldo. “I fell in love with her, and her charm has no effect on me, except, perhaps, to make me love her more.” The fire in the chimney was dying, and the light became redder. The lamps had long ago flickered and gone out. Moonlight filtered through the white curtains and fell on the bed, illuminating Leonie’s bandaged face and arms. Everything else was in shadow. His father stirred, then said irritably, “A king is not an easy position, but it’s the position you’ve been trained for. I know better than to tell you what to do. Your sense of duty will dictate your actions. I will wait for you downstairs. I have things to say to Sir Casper. We’re leaving as soon as I finish.” He rose, and without waiting for any reply, left the room.

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“Leonie?” Something told Renaldo she was listening to them. Her eyes opened. They were clear, like rainwater, and in the moonlight, seemed almost silver. Blood still matted her hair, and no one had changed her dress. It was still the torn and tattered silk robe. Pain clouded her eyes, and there was sorrow too. Renaldo thought he knew why. “How are you feeling? Should I get your father?” “No. I want to talk to you first.” Her words were muffled by bandages. “About what?” “Thank you for saving me.” He wasn’t expecting that. “I don’t know if I did.” “I won’t let you give up your responsibilities to Windtide,” she said. Her hand tightened on his. “I would never do that, but there are different ways of shouldering one’s responsibilities. Besides, my father is still the king. He has many years before him. Now that the house of Bromley has no more claim to our throne, Sylvain will have to be trained to rule. My parents will be busy. As for me, there are other lands beyond the Isle of the Three Kingdoms. I think perhaps, it is time someone thought about opening trading routes and finding strong allies in case Bromley decides to conquer all of Windtide.” “Is that what you’d like to do? Open trading routes?” Leonie spoke softly. Renaldo looked at her. “And find allies. I’d like to go explore other lands. I’ve taken a liking to sailing, and the world is vast. Windtide will need more allies if Bromley decides to push past our boundaries again. I intend to secure a treaty with Querel. But perhaps I’ll let Sylvain take care of that. He seems gifted in diplomacy.” “That sounds like a good idea,” said Leonie weakly. As she spoke, the door creaked open and Claude came in. It was still a shock to Renaldo to see the mouse as a human.

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“I thought she’d be awake by now.” He lit the lamp at the foot of her bed and said, “Will you excuse me, Renaldo?” Renaldo got up and hopped over to the other chair. He watched as Claude sat down and delicately took the bandages off Leonie’s face. “Is she healed already?” Renaldo asked. “No, of course not. But the bleeding has stopped and it’s best to leave it alone for now. The bandages will only rub the cuts and make them worse.” Renaldo felt his stomach tighten as he saw Leonie’s face and arms. Her face would never look the same. It was scarred, he saw, disfigured forever. Her arms were badly bruised and cut as well. Luckily, the two magicians had enough power between them to accelerate the healing process and ease her discomfort. “Tomorrow you can bathe and change your clothes. But tonight, you must lie still and rest. Cook will bring you some soup in a few minutes.” Claude said, patting her hand. “Aren’t you afraid to fall under her charm?” Renaldo blurted. Claude smiled sadly. “She is injured and her charm spell is so faint as to be almost evaporated. But I’ve no doubt it will return when she recovers.” Renaldo’s heart leapt. “What I feel for her has nothing to do with the spell. I knew it! I love her, and can’t live without her.” “And yet you must.” Leonie’s voice was clear. “What do you mean?” Renaldo got up and almost took a step, remembered his missing leg just in time, and tightened his grip upon the back of his chair. “You are the crown prince of Windtide, whether you like it or not. You have a duty to your kingdom.” “I have no intention of shirking,” Renaldo said. He hopped to her bed. Looking down at her he said, “I intend to marry you. Perhaps we won’t see each other as much as we’d like, but I can’t

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imagine life without you. Knowing you’re here, waiting for me wherever I may be will give me courage to do my duties despite being nothing but a one-legged prince. I will always be prince of Windtide,” he said. “But my heart is here, with you.” “But I don’t want to marry anyone,” said Leonie. Her eyes shimmered with tears but they didn’t spill over to her cheeks. “I want to be free. I don’t want to live anywhere. As soon as I can, I want to return to the forest.” Claude shook his head. “That is the unicorn speaking. I remember clearly being a mouse, and for a while it will be hard to stop craving cheese.” He gave a crooked grin. “Tomorrow, you will be more like Leonie.” To Renaldo he said, “I think it would be best if you accompanied your father to your own castle. You must let Leonie recover. She is still part unicorn.” Renaldo, looking into her strange, silvery eyes, knew that Claude was right. Renaldo bent down and brushed a kiss as light as moth wings upon Leonie’s forehead. “Farewell, Lady Leonie. Know that I love you, and I will be back.” “I love you too,” she said. But her mouth trembled violently as she said it, and endless forests appeared in the depths of her eyes. Renaldo turned away, his heart heavy.

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Chapter Twenty Two Enchantments and Apologies

Leonie watched him leave, her own heart beating painfully. She hadn’t seen him after his accident, and watching him hop slowly out of the room on crutches tortured her. She wanted to leap from the bed, hug him, and tell him she’d always love him. But part of her shied from that thought and strained toward the perfect freedom she’d known as a unicorn. Besides, her wounds were too severe. Even if she tried, she couldn’t move. She had to keep still and heal. She felt her father’s and Claude’s magic coursing through her; knitting flesh together, realigning bones and tendons, and soothing bruises and cuts. She closed her eyes. Her own magic had been nearly depleted when she’d called the whirlwind to save herself and Renaldo from the hounds. The dogs had been enchanted by Sir Wulfe. She’d been able to feel that. Why should Sir Wulfe hate her? But he did, she had felt that too. He’d wanted to crush her to dust. And yet, he claimed to love her! He acted as if he owned her, when no one owned her. Nobody did. A violent shudder racked her body. Even the thought of Renaldo owning her made her feel ill. Why did men and women have to marry anyway? She didn’t feel like eating. She wanted to turn back into a unicorn and flee the house. The covers were too heavy, the walls too close to her. She felt trapped. Then the door opened and Cook entered, bearing a tray. She set it carefully on the chair and fussed over the fireplace, adding tinder and logs until the yellow tongues of flame lit up the room. Then she turned the lamps up, chasing the last of the shadows away.

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With gentle, deft hands Cook propped pillows behind her, sitting her up in the bed so that she could eat. But her arms and hand hurt too much, so Cook stayed and fed her. Leonie stared into Cook’s mellow, amber eyes and asked, “Do you miss being a goat?” It was the first time she’d ever mentioned the enchantment to Cook, but Cook’s regard didn’t waver the slightest. “No, I don’t miss it at all. My life as a goat wasn’t as full as this one. I prefer being Cook. There is not a day that passes I don’t thank your father for enchanting me. The same goes for Bob. Most enchantments feel the same. Why? What is it, child?” “I miss being a unicorn.” Leonie was suddenly afraid to look at her. What would she think? She heard the chair creak as Cook shifted a bit, and then warm hands stroked her cheek, like when she was little. “You weren’t really a unicorn. You were always Leonie. What you found was the part of Leonie that most longed to be a unicorn. And why not? Unicorns are free to go where they like. “Ever since you could walk you’ve wanted to go places. Yet you’ve always had to stay here. You must have felt imprisoned sometimes. You always hated being held too closely or cuddled tight, unlike Ann, who would sit for hours on my lap. Plus you’re always cold, and a unicorn is impervious to the weather.” Cook’s voice had a smile in it. Leonie opened her eyes and looked. Yes, Cook smiled at her, her eyes twinkling. “You’ve always been an independent person. But that’s just your true personality showing through. You’re not really a unicorn. You might like it for a while, but you’d grow to miss your humanity. It’s infinitely richer being a human.” “But I don’t want to belong to anyone,” Leonie cried. She bunched her sheets in her hands. “Is that what’s truly bothering you?” Cook asked, gazing at her keenly. “Is it Prince Renaldo?”

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“He wouldn’t set me free!” The words burst from her throat and vibrated queerly in the room. Cook nodded. “I thought so.” Leonie had to stop shaking before she could speak again. “What do you mean?” Cook smoothed her hand over Leonie’s hair. “You think that he kept you against your will, don’t you?” “But that’s what happened! His touch held me prisoner. I begged him to let me go, but he didn’t.” “You could have slipped from his grasp any time you wanted,” said Cook, her voice soft but firm. “But you didn’t want to, and that frightened you.” Leonie thought about that. “I wanted to stay with him, but I thought that as long as he touched me I couldn’t move. It was as if his arms were stronger than chains.” “He didn’t want to let go of you and deep down inside, you didn’t want him to set you free. That’s what you felt. You’re still Leonie, after all.” Cook smiled. “I’m still Leonie.” She closed her eyes. The memory of the forest ebbed from her body. Spring green and gold started to fade from her memory. Forests and mountains receded, and she shivered, suddenly, with cold. “Is there a warmer blanket, Cook? I’m freezing.” “Here.” Cook got up and took a warm flannel quilt from the cedar-wood chest near the fireplace. She hung it over the quilt warmer, then laid it on the bed, tucking it around Leonie so it was like being in a soft, cozy, nest. “What should I do?” Leonie asked, her eyes closing with fatigue. Cook didn’t ask about what. She knew. “Prince Renaldo truly loves you. But you are young, and you need to find your own place in the world before you can share it with him.” “Is my place in the world here at Castle Veil?” Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to stay awake.

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“I don’t know. Only you can discover that.” Just one more question, and then she could sleep. “Did my mother feel like a prisoner? Did she hate it here?” “No, child, she loved it here. She loved your father, and she loved you. She was happy here. For to her, this was freedom. There are many different types of freedom. You need to find the one that you need.” Cook’s voice trailed into silence, and finally Leonie let sleep claim her. # Ann was perched on her bed the next day. When Leonie opened her eyes, Ann said, “How do you feel?” “Better.” Leonie smiled, and her mouth only hurt a little. She wiggled her shoulders and moved her arms and legs. “Can I get up now?” “Father said you could take a bath and change. I’ll help you. Cook has got the bath house ready. There is plenty of hot water. I’ve never seen so much hot water,” she added. “Oh, bliss!” Leonie laughed. “I really need to wash. I must look a fright.” Ann swallowed hard. “Leo, I don’t know how to tell you this. But I have to. Your face is… scarred,” she finished, looking miserable. Leonie nodded. “I know. Sir Wulfe enchanted the dogs. They were sent to kill me. I could feel the spells holding them, but I couldn’t fight them all at once. All I could do was call a whirlwind, and even that took all my strength.” “So you know about your face?” “Don’t look so miserable, Ann. It’s only scars. They will fade.” “How did you learn all that magic? Father says you can transform yourself now! No magician has ever been able to do that.”

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“Don’t ask me how I know. I just… feel it.” Leonie frowned. “It’s like knowing how to breathe. You do it without thinking.” “You do everything without thinking,” said Ann, her old smile back. “Leonie, still a birdbrain.” “The bird-brained magician,” said Leonie, “That’s me.” And she laughed. It felt good to laugh. It felt even better to wash her hair and put a clean dress on. Afterward, she sat by a roaring fire in the kitchen and let everyone fuss over her. It was the first time she’d ever liked that. She had a warm shawl over her shoulders, and Ann sat next to her and popped popcorn. Cook made tea and toast. Claude kept piling wood on the fire, and the kitchen smelled of toast and popcorn. Her father came in a while later and pulled a chair up next to her. He examined her wounds, prodded them gently, and pronounced her on her way to being completely healed. “Thanks to you and Claude,” said Leonie. “He’s actually quite talented,” said her father, when the young man had gone to fetch some more wood. “Can I ask you something?” Leonie said, taking her father’s hand. Part of her realized that she had never felt as comfortable with her father before. So many things had changed in such a short time that it almost made her feel like one of Ann’s exploding corn kernels. “Of course.” “Why did Sir Wulfe want to make me unhappy? He claimed to love me.” Leonie shook her head. “I want to know what love is. I’m afraid of it now. Renaldo says he loves me. What if he decides to make me unhappy? I just don’t understand!”

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Ann looked up from her perch on the three-legged stool, but didn’t say anything. Cook came over and stood next to Leonie, her amber eyes sharp. Even Bob, who was in the kitchen at that moment, came over to stand by her. Leonie looked at everyone. Bob, with his patient, gentle ways. Cook, who fussed at them and cared for them with all her heart. Ann, with her bright gold mop of hair and unswerving loyalty. Her father, who had lost what he loved the most, but who tried his best. Love had surrounded her since she was born, and she’d never realized just what it was. She was starting to understand. But some things still escaped her. “You see part of it here,” said her father. He nodded. “Yes, this is part of it. But love is often confused with passion. Passion often changes to hate when the first flare of enthusiasm wears off. True love is not passion, and cannot be turned into hate. Sir Wulfe never loved you, Leonie. He confused passion with love, and he wanted to own what could never be owned – your spirit.” “I’m starting to understand,” she said. “But they are very similar. Passion and love, I mean.” “It’s hard to tell the difference. I thought Sir Wulfe loved you.” Her father shook his head. “I was blind.” “Or maybe you just didn’t really see me. It must have been hard to see past the charm,” said Leonie. “And the fact I looked so much like my mother must have made it even harder for you.” “It did.” He gave her a shy smile, and she realized they’d never really seen each other. Her father had always seemed bleak, distant, and stern. In reality, he was quiet, introverted, and conscientious. “Is it still hard to see the real me, now that I’m scarred?” “Your face will get better and your scars will fade. But yes, it’s still hard. It’s always hard to be a father. I feel guilty about wanting to marry you to Sir Wulfe. I never bothered to look beneath the surface at the real Leonie, and I apologize.”

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“I don’t hold it against you,” she said. She was touched, though. “I think I’m starting to understand the difference between love and passion. None of you would want to hurt me, because you love me. If I leave here, none of you will love me less because I want to go away. If I’m happy, you’re happy for me. That’s love.” “You’ve learned an important lesson,” her father said, and bent down, and to her amazement, gave her a hug. Ann cried out, just as the scent of burned popcorn filled the kitchen. “Look what I did!” She dumped the blackened, smoking kernels onto the fire. “I can’t believe it. I’ve never burnt popcorn before.” Leonie laughed. “And I’ve never gotten a lesson right before. There is certainly a lot of change in this household.” Claude came in, stomping his feet. “First snow fall outside,” he said. “Didn’t you notice?” “No!” Ann jumped up and ran to the window. Leonie’s father helped her to her feet and half carried her to the window, where she saw huge, fat snowflakes falling. Already a thin blanket of snow hid the courtyard and the trees and hedges were dotted with white. In the gray distance, a horseman came riding. Leonie’s heart pounded, and she knew she was hoping with every fiber in her body that it was Renaldo. No one else noticed until he turned into the narrow lane leading to the castle. Then Cook, with her sharp eyes, said, “Someone’s coming! I better fix something to eat. Guests are always hungry.” Claude crammed the last of the molasses bread into his mouth and tried not to look guilty. Leonie pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, and leaned comfortably against her father. It would be Renaldo, she was sure. And she had much to tell him.

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Chapter Twenty Three War and a Wedding

Renaldo and Leonie were married in a very small, private ceremony at Castle Veil and afterwards there was a party. Ann was the bridesmaid. The king and queen of Windtide came, and so did Sylvain, standing stiffly in a new cloak and hose. He didn’t dare look at Leonie. He still loved her when she was near. His father stayed far from her too, as if she had the plague. But his mother came and kissed her brow, and said she was happy for her, and happy for Windtide. Renaldo was still on crutches, and he hardly left Leonie’s side. Sylvain wanted to offer a toast to the newlyweds, but the atmosphere was more sorrowful than joyous. Bromley had declared war and soon his father and Renaldo would leave for the front. He was staying in Windtide to run the everyday tasks of the kingdom. Even the minstrels, brought along for the occasion, couldn’t lighten the mood. When the sun started to set, King Miles bid everyone goodnight and that ended the wedding party. Sylvain was glad to leave. He could hardly look at Leonie without feeling a sharp pain in his chest, and he wondered how Claude could stay there and remain so serene. Ann had tucked a sprig of the bride’s bouquet in everyone’s buttonhole, and the scent of winter jasmine accompanied them all the way back to the castle. In the dark, in the jolting carriage, Sylvain could not see his parents’ faces. But he knew his mother was upset. He heard her sniff, and then her dress rustled as she searched for a handkerchief. “Here, Mother,” he said, handing her his. In the darkness, their hands collided. “Thank you,” she said. “Let me light the lamp,” said his father. A spark struck, then his father’s face sprang into view as he carefully lit the small glass lamp on the side of the coach. Warm light filled the small space.

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Sylvain’s mother sighed. “Are we doing the right thing, Miles?” “Who knows?” His expression was bleak. “I have tried my best to be a good king to Windtide. After the last war, I swore I would do everything in my power to avoid another one. Unfortunately Bromley seems intent on swallowing us whole.” He turned to his wife and said, “I am sorry to be fighting against your homeland.” “It’s not my homeland, Windtide is,” she said fiercely. He kissed her hand. “At any rate, I want to thank you for being my queen. I was most fortunate that my fate was to marry you.” She actually blushed. “No, I was the fortunate one.” They looked at each other, and Sylvain could see the love in their gaze. He shifted in his seat. Would he ever find someone to inspire such devotion? He knew many maidens, but for some reason, when he thought of love, the image of a bright red cap of curls and Ann’s serious face sprang to mind. How odd. But he liked thinking of Ann, so he sat back in his seat and thought that perhaps he’d invite her to visit him at the castle when everything was over and Windtide was victorious. He couldn’t bear to think that there would be any other outcome to the war. He was desperately afraid for his brother and father, and wished he could go to battle too. But someone had to stay in the castle. He closed his eyes and let the rocking carriage lull him to sleep. At least now he was no longer the Unwanted Prince. # Back at Castle Veil, Leonie and Renaldo turned to look at each other. Leonie had a new bedroom now. It had been her mother’s room. It was bigger, with a huge chimney and two closets. Ann and Cook had decorated it with candles and posies for the wedding night, and

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Leonie didn’t recognize the room. It was new. Everything was new. Her dress, the flowers, and her husband. Renaldo gave her a crooked smile and her heart leapt. Would it always leap so when he smiled at her? She hoped so. An answering smile on her lips, she crossed the room and melted into his arms. Tonight they would be together, and tomorrow. But then he had to leave and she would be just one of many soldiers’ wives waiting for her husband. # Downstairs, Claude got ready to leave. He was going to go with Renaldo as a medic magician. He would fight if need be, but mostly he would be in charge of healing the wounded. Sir Casper helped him pack a bag with potions and herbs, bandages and a spell book. “Have you heard from the Crow Callers?” asked Claude. “No, the wizards’ guild hasn’t replied. They will take their time deliberating, for it is a weighty decision they must make. Stripping Sir Wulfe of his powers will take many wizards and much magic energy. The consul will debate for a while yet, I’m afraid. And in the meantime, I fear for Leonie and Renaldo. Sir Wulfe is not above taking revenge on them.” “What about you and Ann, sir?” Claude asked. “Ann is immune to magic.” Sir Casper smiled. “She can’t even be lifted in a whirlwind. So he can’t hurt her. And as for me, well, if he doesn’t catch me unawares like he did last time, I should be fine.” “Good, then I won’t worry.” Sir Casper looked startled, then smiled. “Just worry about yourself. I pray this war will be over soon, and we can go back to our lives as before.” #

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Downstairs in the kitchen, Ann and Cook finished tidying up. Ann took off her apron and hung it on its hook, and sat next to Bob, who was lounging on the bench near the fire. He made room for her, and she leaned comfortably against his strong shoulder. The fire crackled, Cook put the tea kettle on, and Bob stirred the embers with the poker, making red sparks fly. Ann saw that there was a piece of paper under the bench. She tossed it in the fire, but it rose on the smoke, dancing just above the flames as if teasing them. “How funny,” she said, pointing. “The paper flies without any wings or magic.” “It’s not funny, it’s logic. The fire sends hot wind upward. You can see the smoke rising. Paper is light enough to ride on the wind, that’s all.” Bob shrugged. Ann propped her chin in her hands and stared at the paper, floating above the flames. In her mind, she saw a fire burning in a sort of boat. The boat was attached to a giant piece of paper by many silken ropes, and the boat rose into the air, pulled by the paper straining to rise away from the fire. But that would never work. How could a boat hold fire? And how could paper be strong enough, or large enough to carry a boat? Her mind, quick and logical, discarded several solutions before hitting on silken cloth. It could be made into a huge balloon and filled with hot air, and then it would rise upward, taking the boat with it. The boat would have to be very light – perhaps made of wicker. The silk balloon would have to be enormous. But if she took all the sheets in the castle and sewed them together… her father would be furious. And there was still the problem of setting a fire in the wicker boat. It would burn. Unless the fire was held in a very small brazier. Perhaps some magic could be used, just enough to contain the fire. But the flying would be done by technology, not magic. She leapt off the bench and began to pace. What would happen to the whirlwinds? They would cease to function. The wizards would have to either transform into birds, using Crow Caller magic, or they would have to ride. Most were lamentable riders. Her father, for one, never

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once sat on a horse’s back, saying it looked more uncomfortable than anything else. But if she did invent the flying machine, then wizards like Sir Wulfe would be more easily contained. He wouldn’t be able to sow mischief. And for the war, it might be useful too. Bromley had a whole troop of magicians that used whirlwinds to fight with. Ann stood for a minute, undecided, then ran up to her father’s room, bursting in on him and startling him so much he dropped the ocelot he was holding. It fell, and the two marble eyes dropped out and rolled across the floor. “How odd,” he said, picking them up. “I never noticed the eyes were marbles.” “Leonie put them in there. I lost the real ones.” Ann took them and put them back in the ocelot’s eye sockets. “Father, I just had an idea. I need your help. And Cook, and Bob, and Claude too.” “What about Leonie and Renaldo?” he asked. He peered at the ocelot. “What color were its real eyes?” “Father!” Ann was dancing with impatience. She sat at his desk, and without asking permission, took a roll of paper, seized his quill pen, and started to draw. “Look, if we sew the silk together like this, and then attach it to the chair like this, then put the fire here, I think, above the chair and out of reach of the passenger’s hair. It should work.” “Passenger?” Her father leaned over the drawing. “Well, I’ll be. A flying chair. Carried by a balloon full of hot air. How do you mean to steer it?” “For now, all that is important is getting it in the air before Bromley hurls its whirlwind wizards at our forces.” Her father patted her shoulder. “I think it can be done. And we’ve not a minute to waste. Tell Cook to gather the sheets together, and I’ll go see Bob about the chair. And Claude can start working on a case to hold the fire.”

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Ann dashed down the stairs, and soon she and Cook were sitting at the kitchen table, a pile of silken sheets between them. Cook threaded the needles, and Claude used his magic to sew the sheets together. Bob, meanwhile, had started to weave wicker into a basket large enough to safely hold a person. He had decided that a chair would be too unstable, and had suggested a basket. It would be more sensible and the balloon could be tied to the basket’s edges. They worked until it got so late the fire was just a pile of embers and the stars had begun to fade. Ann stood and rubbed her eyes, and Cook yawned and stretched the kinks out of her back. Bob had finished the basket, and was busy weaving the ropes into the top of it, and Claude had fallen asleep with his head on a pile of sheets. Ann poked him and he woke up, blinking sleepily. “Is it morning?” “Almost. We should get some sleep.” Ann could hardly keep her eyes open. She didn’t bother undressing, but fell onto her bed and dropped off to sleep at once. The rooster’s crowing woke her up at dawn, and for the first time she thought about putting him in a stew. Then she got out of bed, blearily brushed her hair and washed her face, and changed her dress. When she got downstairs, she saw Cook had finished sewing the sheets together, and everything was outside in the courtyard. Her father and Claude were discussing how to attach the magical bowl that held the fire, and Bob was putting the final touches on the basket. Leonie and Renaldo came downstairs, hand in hand. Leonie looked radiant, and Ann realized she’d never seen her sister look so happy. She’d always had a trace of worry in her eyes. That had vanished. Claude glanced up as she arrived, turned bright red, and stammered something about good morning. Her charm was stronger than ever. Ann sighed. If only she could invent something that

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would negate her sister’s wild magic. But wild magic had been well-named, for there was no antidote to it. Cook called from inside. Breakfast was ready. They all turned towards the door, and then a Crow Caller arrived. It fluttered to the middle of the courtyard, avoided the silken cloth on the ground, and transformed in a shower of golden sparks. He wasted no time brushing off his clothes. In a rush, he bounded forward and held out a roll of parchment to Renaldo. “Your Highness. A message from your father.” He pulled another parchment from his carrier bag and thrust it to Sir Casper. “From the magician’s guild,” he said. Leonie turned pale. Renaldo unrolled his scroll and read it silently, his expression grim. “Bromley attacked last night,” he said. “They sent their troops through the south, and are amassing on the border along the mountain range. Querel has decided to send their troops to our aid, but they are mostly naval troops, and will not be of much help.” “So soon,” said Leonie. She touched his shoulder. “I had hoped you would have more time to prepare.” Renaldo shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Father has gone south to join his troops. He bade me to join him as soon as possible.” “I will take you in a whirlwind,” said Leonie. “That way, you will be there with him.” “Listen,” cried Sir Casper. “The wizard’s guild has written. They have banished Sir Wulfe but he fled to Bromley, and has joined the war on their side. Until the war is over between Windtide and Bromley, the guild cannot do anything about him. Bromley has sealed their borders. He is with the troop of whirlwind wizards.” He looked up and there was a spark of triumph in his eyes. “We will prevail with Ann’s invention. Hurry. There is no time to lose now.” “What kind of invention is it?” Leonie asked.

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“I’m afraid you’ll have to put off accompanying Renaldo in a whirlwind. If this works, then the whirlwinds will disappear,” said Claude. He held a brass bowl in his hands. “I think I’ve made the spell strong enough to hold the fire in one place. Does anyone have matches?”

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Chapter Twenty Four Falling from the Sky

In between eating bites of Cook’s excellent porridge, holding Renaldo’s hand, and trying to help Ann with the silken balloon, Leonie managed to avoid giving in to the crushing worry just in the back of her mind. It was mostly worry about the war: worry that Renaldo would be killed, worry that Windtide would become a fief of Bromley, and worry that in that case, the royal family of Windtide would be put to death. Her thoughts were so dark and sorrowful that she knew if she gave into them, and started dwelling upon them, she would end up curled up under her covers sobbing, and she didn’t want that. She knew she was stronger than that. She knew she could keep the dark thoughts at bay. And she did. It helped that she had so much to do. The balloon was voluminous and unwieldy, and had to be held up so that the hot air would blow into it. Someone had to fan the air, and someone had to make sure the fire didn’t go out, or escape the confines of the magic bowl. Fire, being a magic that had just recently been tamed, was unpredictable and unstable. It would cheerfully have burned the wicker to a crisp. Renaldo helped too, and hopped about on his crutches with a bleak but determined expression. His gaze often sought out Leonie’s, and when their eyes met, neither he nor Leonie could suppress a smile of pure joy. Renaldo’s smiles kept her spirits high all morning, and once she found she was singing as she held the silken canopy above her head, feeling it get lighter and lighter as the hot air filled it.

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Soon it floated above them, at first fragile and wobbling, then straining against the ropes that held it fast. The basket was in place, the fire controlled, and the balloon rose like a patchwork cloud above their heads. “Well, I guess it’s ready.” Ann tucked her skirt around her legs and made to climb into the basket. “What are you doing?” cried Sir Casper. “Going for a ride. I know I can’t steer it, but there is hardly a breeze today, and to come down all I have to do is lower the flame and cool the air. We figured that out, remember?” “Yes, but it’s too dangerous for you.” The wizard took her arm. “I’ll go.” “Don’t be silly. If you get killed, then who will be the wizard here in Windtide? Everyone needs you. I’m not indispensable.” “You are to me. You’re my daughter. I won’t let you try this until it’s been proved safe,” said Sir Casper. Leonie’s heart gave a lurch. Her father had so rarely showed his emotions. And now he stood, worry etched on his features. “I’ll go, then.” Claude didn’t wait for anyone to speak up. He leapt into the basket, fiddled with the fire control, and then said, “Well, aren’t you going to untie me?” The Crow Caller, who had stayed with them all morning, uttered a loud cry. “Will it affect my magic?” “No,” said Sir Casper. “You turn into a bird, and birds fly. It won’t affect transformation magic at all. Only the magic of transporting by air.” “Oh.” The Crow Caller relaxed. “Well then, let go the ropes! I want to see this!” He hopped about in excitement. “What if there are good people traveling by whirlwind today?” cried Leonie. She clapped her hands. “Stop, stop! We mustn’t fly yet. We have to clear the air.”

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“I will go make sure there is no one in the atmosphere,” said the Crow Caller. “Perhaps someone should take a whirlwind to Windtide and Querel to warn everyone.” “And take a message to the wizard’s guild! Quick now!” cried Sir Casper. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” “I’ll go to Windtide with Renaldo. You go to Querel and tell Princes Alonzo and Hidalgo the news,” said Leonie to her father. It felt odd giving him instructions, but he only smiled at her and nodded. “Good girl,” he said. “Claude will fly the balloon when we are all gathered back here. Until then, Claude, keep the fire high enough for the balloon to stay inflated, but don’t let the ropes break!” Leonie grabbed Renaldo and called a whirlwind, careful not to jostle the balloon. As they rose into the air, Ann and Cook waved. She would have liked to talk with Renaldo, but the whirlwind was too loud. He opened his arms though, and she nestled against his strong chest. Never again would she feel incomplete, or a complete idiot. Renaldo had given her confidence in herself, and love for him had made her strong. Now, no matter what happened, she had changed for the better. Perhaps it had been being the unicorn, or, as Cook put it, the part of her that was most like the unicorn came to the surface. At any rate, she felt as if she could do anything now. Well, almost anything. She couldn’t remove the charm of wild magic, and she couldn’t make herself be heard above the roar of the wind. They set down in the center of Windtide. Mindful of her charm, Leonie kept close to Renaldo and didn’t speak. Renaldo gave the news to the Royal Crow Caller Messenger and instructed him to spread the news far and wide. All whirlwinds were to be stopped at once. The Queen came out, hurrying from the castle. “What is going on?” she cried.

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Renaldo told her of Ann’s invention. “How amazing!” she cried. “I pray it works, for Bromley uses the wizards in whirlwinds to carry explosive devices.” “We shall stop them if this works. But now I must be off. I will join my father, and Leonie will return to Castle Veil.” They bid farewell and took off again. This time, Leonie had to keep an eye out for the king’s troops. When they found them, she set the whirlwind down in the front, near King Miles. But she hugged and kissed Renaldo quickly, for she wanted to be gone before the troops saw her. “Goodbye. Come back to me as soon as the war is over,” she said. “I promise.” He held her tight, then stepped back quickly. “Goodbye, and good luck.” Leonie gave him one last kiss, and before he could see her tears, she called her whirlwind and flew back to Castle Veil. As she landed, she saw her father’s whirlwind in the distance. And behind that was another huge whirlwind. She’d never seen such a gigantic one. It was nearly black, and clouds swirled above it, darkening the whole sky. Who could be in it? Why was her father’s whirlwind zigzagging all over? Usually they went straight. Then a jagged streak of lightning shot from the huge whirlwind, and she gasped. Someone was trying to kill her father! It must be Sir Wulfe! “Quick, cut the ropes! Claude, get in the basket!” she screamed. Her father’s whirlwind approached, but the other one was not too far behind. Time was everything. Claude dove into the basket as Bob cut the ropes holding the balloon. Sir Casper flew into the courtyard, making the balloon sway violently and crashing the basket against the tree branches. He rolled on the ground as he landed, and sat up, patting his clothes and hair, which smoked as if singed.

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Ann cried out, and Claude pushed the fire to its maximum. The balloon lifted itself above the trees, Claude stood up in the basket and gave a delighted shout, and at that moment, a clap of thunder shook the air. The huge whirlwind vanished. A writhing figure fell from the sky.

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Epilogue The White Owl

Was there a happy ending? In some ways. Without the whirlwinds, Bromley’s army was not as strong, and Windtide managed to defeat them at their border. Many good men were lost, but thankfully, Renaldo wasn’t one of them. King Miles was wounded, but Sir Casper healed him, flying in Ann’s floating basket to reach his side. Sir Wulfe was killed instantly when he fell to the ground, and all that was left of him was a pile of black ashes. Without the whirlwinds, things were confused for a while, but the Crow Callers managed to keep everything running more or less smoothly, and several merchants began making plans for fabricating the silken balloons. Soon, instead of noisy whirlwinds, silent, graceful balloons floated in the sky. King Miles and Sir Casper appreciate each other now, and often play chess in the evenings when Sir Casper stays in Windtide, which he does more often now. Claude proved a capable apprentice, and soon became a certified wizard. He refused the offer to take Sir Wulfe’s place in Querel, preferring to stay in Windtide where, some say, a pretty lass has captured his heart. But mindful of his last fiasco, he is being careful this time. He’s had enough of being turned into a mouse. Prince Sylvain has started courting Ann. She is still so quiet, serious, and level-headed that one might not think she was in love, but she keeps burning the popcorn whenever he’s around, so Leonie thinks they may be hearing about another wedding soon.

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No longer the unwanted prince, Sylvain is an astute diplomat and managed to make peace between Windtide and mighty Bromley. He managed to get all the neighboring kingdoms to form a united group, and worked out a complicated treaty with lots of flowery language. Ann is busy working on technical advances to take the place of impractical magic. Her latest inventions include glasses (which replaced magical talking books that were very expensive to make and hard keep up – besides, if the book got tired of talking it would just tell you the ending and shut itself), a clock (to replace the enchanted sundials which would sometimes refuse to tell time, being very capricious), and a messenger service that uses wires instead of crows. But the last invention she has hidden away, because she doesn’t want the Crow Callers to go out of business. Renaldo and Leonie are still blissfully happy. She stays in her home Castle Veil and he continues to work with his father, the king of Windtide. But he travels to Castle Veil every weekend to be with his beloved, and whenever he must leave on a long trip, he is accompanied by a very beautiful snowy owl.