I grew up in a small town in the south. My father was a tailor, and my mother a tailor with him. I, too, might have become a tailor, if I had not already had two older brothers and three younger sisters to carry along the family business.

          I spent most of the time caring for the family's herd of sheep and goats, for that is where we got the wool to spin into cloth, and then make into clothing. I hated sewing with a vengeance, so this suited me fine. I was perfectly happy to sit in the fields all day, looking at the sky and making sure none of the animals under my charge wandered away. The rest of the village children started calling me nasty names after three years of laying on my backing and watching clouds go by; and that didn't bother me too much either. I was not overly fond of my true name, Rhys.

          My siblings were, in order of birth; Jonas, Timothy, Alys, Gwen, and Bridgit. We all had brown hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. If my hair was the darkest, and my eyes the biggest and bluest, well, I never noticed when the girls stared after me. I was quiet, withdrawn, and imaginative. I wanted something better than a poor life in a small village.

I had started my adult life as a soldier. When I was barely 18, I enlisted in my country's army. Until I was twenty, we mostly fought skirmishes along the border or impressed the hordes of commoners as we marched along after the king in parades. But after that, the war broke out. My participation in it lasted five long, bloody years. My nightmares, when I have them, are of my experiences on the battlefields in between my native country, Linldale, and our rival Taladhin. I was never even sure what the war was about. Some insult to a crown prince, I believe.

          I was the only survivor in my company in one of the aforesaid battles. I'm certain the only reason I survived was by hiding behind a pile of dead horses along the edge of the meadow we fought in. That, and the fact I was so plastered with dust, blood, mud, and grass, I was hardly distinguishable from the ground. And a rather bad deal I made.

          I was hidden from all sight, or so I thought. The battle raged around me, though my company had been wiped out. Others fought. I had lost all desire for battle when I watched my friends die around me. I was nearly unconscious from exhaustion, but I heard a voice say something to me from inside the fog that was my mind. I turned slowly, and saw a tall man standing in front of me. I blinked and rubbed my eyes. It didn't make any sense.

          The man was grinning at me from under cold blue eyes. He was dressed impeccably; black velvet breeches and a fine coat embroidered black on black, all perfectly cleaned. He was holding a polished walking stick in one hand, a pair of white gloves in the other. I stared in amazement and horror. There was something frightening about him.

          "You look like you could use some help, young man," he said genially, eyes cold as winter. I nodded dully and his smile broadened.

          "What would you do if I said I could get you out of here, right now, alive?" He tilted his head to one side, face now somber, and I stared.

          "You'd take me up, wouldn't you? Of course you would. You don't look to be the brainless kind who get themselves killed for glory."

          "Sir, I would do anything to get out of this hell," I whispered weakly. He started smiling again. This time it seemed more like a smirk.

          "Anything?" he said.

          "Anything," I repeated. He took something from out of his pocket and dropped it on the ground. A paper and a quill pen. A contract.

          "I need ink," I said, not bothering to read what the contract said. He smiled and gestured to the ground, where a pool of blood was developing from underneath my arm. I heard a voice say in the back of my mind, so that's why I feel so horrible. Blood loss. I dipped the pen in the blood, and signed my name the best I could. The man chuckled, and the words soaked into the paper.

          Stab.

          I felt like my leg had been torn from my body. I could feel myself screaming, eyes bulging, the newly realized pain from my arm nothing compared to this. I saw the world fading into white, and then black before my eyes. The last thing I saw was the man--the demon-- throwing his walking stick toward me.

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          I awoke sometime later in a thicket by a road. It was night, but I remembered this place. It was a few miles from our battlefield. We had marched past it days ago.

          I looked around; my leg was throbbing steadily, but was bearable. I made out the shape of a stick nearby, straight with a thick knobby part on the top. Just the right size for me to lean on. Stuck to it, was a piece of paper. I ripped it off of the wood, and held it to my blood-shot eyes. The parchment glowed ever so slightly so I could make out the words.

          The latter signer of this contract does hereby agree to pay the equivalent of passage out of the place where this has been signed for the aforesaid favor until one of the signers are deceased. The one giving the passage shall determine the payment.

          I stared at the paper for a long time, thinking, what have I done? What had I given up in exchange for my safety? If only I hadn't been so cowardly, if I had stayed where I was, I could have survived. I tried to stand up, but my right leg collapsed form under me. I pulled off what was left of my ragged stocking, and examined my leg. It was slashed from knee to thigh. I nearly gagged at the sight. It was had been bleeding heavily, though now most of it looked as though it was drying. I could see down to muscle. I supposed that the tendons were injured, and it worried me. Would I be able to walk again?

          I reached for the walking stick that… thing… had left me. It seemed stout enough; I pulled myself up on it, leaning heavily on it and my good leg. I stuffed the parchment signed with blood into my pocket, and hobbled onto the road. No one would be traveling this time of night with the enemy army abroad, so I felt safe enough.

          I limped my way from the place the best I could. I had decided, even before I made that stupid, stupid agreement, that I would head for the capital city, Demheth, and hope to find it still standing. If so, I would collect my pay, and look for another job. With my leg like it was, I doubted I would find work in the army for a long, long time. Even if I could, I wouldn't have been able to stand anymore fighting. I was heartily tired of it.

          At the first village I came to, I was turned away with shouts and jeers. The townsfolk had not asked for this war, and they resented the troops who swept through their villages, taking their crops and their men with them. I truly couldn't blame them, however frustrated I was from my treatment.

          The next village gave me welcome, in exchange for news on how the battle went. I talked to the mayor solemnly as a healer grimaced at my leg and arm, bandaging them.

          "Well, sir, I know for sure my entire company was wiped out. The rest didn't fare much better. About one hundred prisoners were taken from our side, and a great deal more were killed. I haven't talked to a fellow Linldalen soldier for about days, and I've only been walking for one of them," I said, looking at the mayor sleepily. He replied with the tone of a man carrying a load on his shoulders.

          "My only question is whether we'll be seeing anymore of those Taladhins hereabouts. I don't know what we could do if they decided to come through the village. Would they kill us? Conquer us? Make us slaves, or soldiers for them? Leave us? We're not in a good spot now, with the enemy coming so close. D'you think they'll win the war?"

          "I really hope not, sir, but there is a good possibility. Our king, if you'll excuse me, is not exactly a military genius, and the Taladhin general is quite good at what he does. But from what I hear, they're not dishonorable people. You're village should be safe."

          "What you mean is, our king is a fool; as is his son, who should not have started this thrice damned war over a princess who did not give him the courtesy he thought he deserved. But, if you want to know what I think, more power to her. She shook his ego quite a bit, and he needed it dearly."

          I nodded and smiled weakly; a smile without humor. The war shouldn't have happened. And so many of my companions had died for it. It wasn't worth it.

          "Get some rest in the backroom, lad. We've set up a pallet for you. You can stay as long as you need," said the mayor quietly. He could see the pain on my face. I thanked him and hobbled to the cornhusk mattress set on the floor.

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          I stayed in that village for three weeks before I had recuperated enough to travel to the capital. As it was, it took me nearly a month. But reach it I did. I collected the money owed to me as I had planned, and was discharged from service in His Majesty's Army.

          I suppose it comes as no surprise that we lost that war. I'm still not sure what the point of it was. We didn't gain anything, and the opposing country didn't get anything but our apology and a bit of gold. My blood boils when I think of the years I lost.

          But enough of that. After I left the army, I became a nomad, a vagabond wandering from one place to another for work. I did odd jobs for people for a few months, and then moved on when I was no longer needed. It was a lonely life, but it suited me. I didn't wanted to return to my hometown so everyone could say I told you so, you should never have bothered leaving. So I wandered for years, until I eventually ended up in Taladhin. I held no grudges against our former enemies; the war was bad for them too. They didn't mind me any more than my countrymen did. I was just an extra farmhand, a shepherd, a jack-of-all-trades. I was getting lonelier and more withdrawn as the years past, and quieter as well. They couldn't help but trust the soft-spoken young man with sad eyes. If only they knew what caused my limp. But one day, a few months after my thirtieth birth day, I heard a bit of gossip that startled me.

          "Rhys? Oh, there you are. Could you help me for a moment?" said a farm girl named Clover, my employer Sam's younger sister. I nodded, and set to work shelling peas. Clover started a conversation with her sister-in-law, Mila.

          "Did you hear about the king? Ana from the mill told me earlier this morning-- I can hardly believe it," she said in the rather empty-headed manner that was her specialty. Mila admitted to have not heard.

          "Oh, it's just so strange. Supposedly, the princesses are bewitched. Every morning when the servants come to wake them, their dancing slippers are worn straight through! But that's not all; every night the king locks the door to their rooms, but it keeps happening, as though they had danced all through the night. Isn't that strange? Every night. So the king got a serving woman to sit in with them, so they couldn't go anywhere without her seeing. But once again, the same thing happened. The woman said that she heard and saw nothing."

          "And every day, the princesses become more and more withdrawn, and fall asleep at their lessons, and take no more interest in their visitors. So the king is holding a contest, of sorts. He's inviting the strongest and bravest men in the kingdom to sit throughout the night with the princesses, for three nights, to face the monster that has ensorcelled them. But if they fail, then the king will chop off their heads. Isn't that just delicious?" cooed Clover at the end of her story, with a theatrical shiver. I continued on with my work, but had to suppress the urge to frown at the girl. Did she take nothing serious? I wondered how much of it was true… the princesses bewitched? That sounded rather absurd. I could see the sense in the executions, though. It would cut down the number of lowlifes that would apply for the job, thinking only of thievery or harassing the princesses. I tried to turn my mind back into my job, but the story started an idea growing in my mind.

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"You're leaving, Rhys? I'm sorry to hear it. It's been nice having an extra set of arms around to help. But it's your decision, of course. Here's your pay for the last week; have a safe journey and stay well."

          I bid Sam good-bye, and started off down the road to the capital, limping visibly and leaning on a my walking stick.

          I had been thinking about Clover's words for the last few days. The news had been verified by a number of travelers going through the village, and I had nothing to lose. I needed a challenge, something to bring some excitement to my life. I would go to the palace, and see about this mystery. If I failed, then, really, what was I losing? A worthless life, and painful memories. A war wound, the clothes on my back. I suppose I was becoming desperate for a change, but I didn't realize it until much later.

          This nation's capital was Maleyn, a sprawling city of stone. Or so I had heard. It was supposed to have tens of thousands of citizens. And as many rats, I thought cynically. I had learned in my thirty years that where there were people, there were vermin. Sometimes I wondered who the biggest pests were. But as I came upon Maleyn at dawn a week later, I saw that the tales were true. It was huge, with stone houses, walls, roads, and palaces. I could see the tips of the royal castle's many towers from outside the city gates, flags flying in the brisk wind. As I made way to join the line of people and carts entering the gates, a bony hand kept me back. I turned around in surprise, and saw a wrinkled old woman. She gestured for me to follow her, and I did, though the gods may know why. We walked to the side of the road, out of the noise.

          "Could you help me with something for a minute, son?" she asked in an unexpectedly clear voice. I nodded. Why not help one more person before I walked to my doom?

          "Follow me, then," she said, turning to walk toward a cottage in a small grove of trees. Once there, she gestured toward a pile of uncut wood and an axe.

          "Could you finish that for me, lad? I'll pay you when you're finished."

          "Certainly, ma'am. No need for pay, though," I said politely. She smiled and made her way back into her house. I hefted the axe and started to work. Swing, chop, swing, chop. I worked for about half an hour before the wood was nicely stacked against the woman's cottage wall. I wiped my forehead with my handkerchief, and walked toward the door to tell her that I was done. She was waiting in a chair in front of the house.

          "Done, ma'am," I said. She nodded and got up.

          "Very well. But before you go, I'm going to get something for you. One of the most prized treasures of my family; but you need it more than I."

          I opened my mouth to protest, but she was already inside. I stared after her, ready to refuse the gift when she came back out. A few minutes later she returned, carrying an old black cloak. She held it out to me, and I took it, surprised. There was nothing in it; it was just a cloak. Her family's greatest treasure? Was this woman mad?

          She must have noticed the incredulous look on my face, because she took it away from me and threw it around her shoulders. She whispered a word under her breath, and she disappeared. I gasped, and she came back, he cloak in her arms.

          "Do you understand now, lad? It makes you invisible. My grandmother was a witch of some power. She gave this to me for my fifteenth birthday, and now I have no need of it, so I'm giving it to you."

          "Why would I need it any more than you?" I asked.

          "Well, you're going to help the princesses, aren't you?" she replied, grinning crookedly. I could catch a glimpse of the fifteen-year-old girl in her, throwing the cloak over her shoulders and giving her grandmother that half-smile. She patted me on the back, returning the patched thing to me and walking back inside gingerly. Perhaps she had a bit of witch in her too. How did she know where I was going? I decided that I might as well keep the thing. It would come in handy.

          I turned and walked into the city.

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          "Th' castle's off tha' away, me lad," said a middle-aged man working at a market stall. His accent was heavy. "Jus' wolk a bit over an ye'll see it broight and clear. Ye can't miss. Now, would ye loike ta buy anything off an aulde man?"

          I shook my head and headed in the direction he pointed. I wasn't sure whether or not I could find my way, with the crowd milling around me the way it was. The Taldhin are a tall people, for the most part. I'm not a short man, but I had to stand on my tiptoes to see around myself very well. I could catch a hint of towers with pennants waving in the wind every now and then, but not much else.

          But then I turned a corner, and there it was. A wide square lay in front of me, a fine garden surrounding a fountain in the middle. There were a line of guards standing in front of the tall castle gates, spears in hand and swords on belt. I took in a breath and walked forward.

          "And what business do you have here, my good man?" said a stone-faced young guard to me as I stopped in front of the gate. He looked at me disdainfully. I supposed I looked a sight, with my limp, ragged clothes, and dirty face. I was offended anyways. The boy was nearly ten years younger than me, and I would bet good money he had never seen a battle in his life. I replied somewhat haughtily.

          "I was informed that the king is looking for men to try to wake the princesses from their enchantment. I was hoping to apply for the job."

          "You? A dirty, crippled peasant man? This is a job knights have failed at. Go home, man. We're not about to let just any beggar who comes to the gate in. From the looks of you, you'd probably be off with silver before the first night was over, if you didn't steal the princesses as well, or worse!" he jeered, putting his hand on his sword hilt threateningly.

          "I was also told that any man who wants a chance would be given it. So here I am. And if some knight in pretty clothes and lots of money can't do it, well, what's it to me? My younger sister could probably do better with splintered stick of wood and a tin bucket on her head."

          "Now, you listen here, you pile of filth, that's no way to talk about…"

          "Hold up, Jhak," said a new voice, interrupting the young snob who was beginning to draw his sword. A man with a captain's helmet walked toward us. "You want to be on border guard? Your parents won't be able save you this time. And the man's right. Anyone who wants a try at helping the princesses is given that chance. It's his neck."

          The young man flushed with anger and humiliation. The man, the boy's superior officer, turned to me.

          "You wouldn't happen to know Sir Rhodric, would you? That's almost the exact way I would have described him myself. Now follow me, I'll see you're taken to the king. What's your name?" he said, opening a small door next to the gate and leading me through.

          "Rhys, sir. How might I address you?"

          "Captain Llind Myrnsson, at your service. You wouldn't happen to have any other clothing in that bag, would you, Rhys? We'll have to make you presentable before the king sees you. No offense, of course."

          "None taken. I'm aware I am not looking my best lately. And no, I have no other clothes. Or at least those I have are no better than these."

          "Hmm. Well, we'll find you something. And a bath, I suppose. You'll be briefed on the situation by the king."

          I followed him around to a side wing of the castle, up a set of stairs, and down a long hall before we ended up in a small room on the second floor of the palace. It was simply decorated, with a plain wooden bed, chair, and wardrobe. A small fireplace was set into the far wall, adjacent to the bed.

          "Now, if you'll wait here, I'll arrange for someone to come with everything you'll need. A meal, clothing, bath water. This'll be your room while you stay here. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

          He nodded genially and strode out of the room. I sat on the bed, somewhat dazed. Well, here I am, I thought. No backing out now. I would have to think of a plan. The cloak would be useful, for certain. And if I was lucky, the knight who had tried before me hadn't been killed yet. Maybe I could learn something from him. He couldn't possibly go three days without seeing anything unusual.

        By suppertime, I had been washed, fed, dressed, and groomed better than I had been for years. My clothing was well made, though not of rich fabric, and my shaggy hair had been trimmed nicely. I had gotten to wash in a copper tub before a fire with soap, rather than in a cold stream, and I had gotten a hot meal that filled me up. I couldn't help but think that it was almost worth losing my head—literally—if I could be so comfortable while it was being done.

          A servant had come to fetch me to speak with the king, an occurrence that made me somewhat nervous. I did my best to concentrate on the long hallways I was traveling through. Now that I had entered the royal wing, the decorating was luxurious and opulent. The huge stained glass windows were edged with velvet curtains, and the carpets on the stone floor were soft and nearly ankle deep. The walls were decorated with fine portraits in gilt-edged frames, and the ceiling domed every so often, the ceiling painted with a map of the sky.

          The door to the throne room, once we got there, was tall and wide. It was made of a fine, heavy wood, covered in beaten gold patterned with hunting scenes. I took a deep breath once the doors started opening and walked in, leaning a bit on my walking stick. It was old, but still as fine as the day I gained it along with my limp.

          The king, to my surprise, was sitting at a small table to the side of the thrones, not actually on one. The room was empty but for him. I made my way toward him and kneeled.

          "Oh, get up, get up. There's no need for that at the moment. Besides, I dare say it is more uncomfortable for you than for me. Sit down, man," said the king brusquely, gesturing to a chair across from him. I was surprised by his lack of ceremony. He seemed to be an improvement to the king of my native country.

          "So you're the poor sod who's come to help me? I wish you all luck. What is your name?"

          "Rhys Traveler," I said, giving him the last name I had acquired in my days of wandering. He nodded.

          "Well, than, Rhys, I shall explain what, exactly, you have gotten yourself into."

          "You have come here to find out what has bewitched the princesses, and where they have gone every night that wears out their dancing slippers. If you succeed, you will be rewarded grandly. If you fail, you'll be killed."

          It was my turn to nod; I knew what the stakes were.

          "I will do my best to provide you with whatever you might need to help you in this endeavor. Mind you, I shall not be taken advantage of. What you ask for will be within reason.

Guards will be posted outside of the princesses' rooms every night. A cot will be set up for you in their sitting room, and the rest is up to you. You will be given three days to figure out this mystery. Your fate after that will be decided on your success. Any questions?"

I nodded again, and asked, " Has the knight who has tried before me been put to death yet?"

"No, his execution is in five days. Why?"

"Do you think I might speak to him, Majesty? To ask him a few questions that might help me? He might have noticed something, though he didn't solve the puzzle."

"I suppose so. Is that all?" he answered, looking at me sharply.

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Hmm. Well, you can go then; I'll have someone take you to Sir Rhodric."

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"What do you want?"

          A harsh, growling voice broke through the dim light. A man's face came into view, moving right up to the bars of the cell door. I stifled a sigh; this probably wouldn't be pleasant.

A few guards stood a ways away from me, so I could talk to Sir Rhodric in peace. I nodded to the disgraced knight politely and began.

"My name is Rhys. I was hoping you might be able to tell me something about your time with the twelve princesses."   

"What? Those sneaky little witches? You must be that fool the guards said had come to try his hand at enchantment. I wish you well. Maybe you can prove how the devils tricked me. Or you could just join me on the chopping block. Of course, being a commoner, you would just be hanged."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Not about the hanging, but the trickery? Do you mean the princesses?"

"No, I mean my grandmother's lap dog. Of course I mean the princesses!"

"What did they do?"

"Why, they fed me drugged wine! I swear, before they went to bed, one gave me a goblet of wine, and the next thing I knew I had a throbbing head and it was morning! It happened every night; I didn't realize until it was too late."

"Hmm. So that's all that happened? You don't have any idea of what they're doing?"

"None whatsoever. If I did, I might not be here awaiting my death. Now go away and leave me to rot in peace!"

He pushed away from the door as roughly as he had pushed up against it, and I turned away, pleased at what I had learned. Now I had a better chance at this, I was sure.

So I sat in my room for the rest of the day, leaving only once to watch the soldiers spar in the practice ring. I pondered what I had learned from Rhodric, and how I could use this information and my cloak to my advantage. I decided that I would somehow have to trick the princesses into thinking I was asleep, and then go from there. So when a manservant came to take me to the king's daughters, I had formulated a plan. I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

"Good evening," said the eldest princess, Mina, politely when I arrived. Her sisters were clustered behind her. They were much alike, with hair ranging from burnished gold to russet and eyes that were all in shades of blue and green. They all wore a similar blank expression.

"Good evening, you highnesses. I am pleased to make your acquaintance," I replied, equally blank. The eldest, their spokesperson, nodded as if this was what she expected.

"We will leave you to settle in," she said, gesturing to the small anteroom we stood in. They filed back through a door, and I sat down on a dark brocaded chair. I put down my pack, which held my cloak and a book, and set my walking sick against a nearby screen. I pulled out the book and read for sometime before the second oldest princess, Tara. She was holding a tray containing a small slice of shortbread and a goblet of red wine. She set next to me on a table nervously.

"We thought perhaps you would like a bit of something to eat before you slept. You must try the wine; it is exquisite," she said, twisting her hands in her voluminous skirts. I smile agreeably and picked up the wine.

"It does look good indeed," I remarked before holding it to lips. I let a sip run past my lips, dripping onto my shirt.

"Oh! How clumsy I am. I apologize for my lack of grace."

I wiped the liquid up with a cloth napkin on the tray, and set the goblet down.

"It is quite good, isn't it? I shall have to enquire after its vintage, I said, yawning. Tara looked pleased and backed out the door, bidding me good night. I noticed that she left the curtain blocking it open. I lay down on my cot and started to make snoring noises. The room next to me was quiet for a moment, and then I started hearing whisperings and rustling sounds. I got up from the cot silently and reached for my cloak. Pinned into the interior was a small bit of parchment. I murmured the single word on it under my breath and felt a strange tingling feeling over my body, as if all the hair on my body was standing on end. Quietly as I could, I walked through the doorway, where he twelve princesses were standing together.

They were dressed as for a ball; silk and velvet gowns, hair braided with jewels and feathers. And as I stepped into the room, the youngest, at fourteen, was putting on her dancing slippers. When she was ready, Princess Mina looked around the room carefully and bent over, lifting a floorboard from its place.

I leaned forward, staying in one spot, watching in fascination. A few minutes later, she had removed all the floorboards from a small square of the floor, revealing an old wooden door. The princess a handle in it, and it opened up. A set of ancient stone steps appeared, leading into a dark, dark passageway. Mina gathered her skirts and walked down the steps into the murky hole in the floor. The others, including Tara, filed down behind her in order of age. I moved at that moment, rushing down with them before the youngest could close the door. Then the square of light above us disappeared. I stood there for a moment, staring at the bottom of the door, before I turned around and caught up with the troupe of girls walking down a dim path.

I noticed with surprise when the space around us widened into a large cavern. The ceiling formed a dome far over our heads. I could see, to my shock, stars, forming alien patterns, glimmering down at me. Looking up, I accidentally stepped on the hem of the youngest princess's dress. She let out a soft yelp, and ran up to tug on the sleeve of her eldest sister's dress.

"Mina! Something stepped on my dress! I swear!"

"Oh, it was probably just a twig. Don' t be so jumpy, Lani," said Mina irritably. Lani moved back to the end of the line, face sulky. I let out a sigh of relief. We moved on.

As the thirteen of us moved across the cavern of stars, the scenery started changing. At first, I thought we had entered a snow covered forest, but as we went farther into it, I saw that everything was made of pure silver, sparkling in the strange starlight. I took a moment to break off a twig from a tree, making a soft cracking noise. Princess Lani looked behind her fearfully, but didn't say anything. I tucked the small leafed fragment into a small pouch I carried o my belt as quietly as I could and rushed toward the girls once again.

Some minutes later, the scenery changed again. The trees started turning another color, first a few and then all of them. Then we entered a wide meadow, tall grass standing still in the stale air. From winter to fall, I thought. The thinning trees were now golden, shades as plentiful as that of the princess' hair. I saw a small flower --growing from the grassy golden ground to the side of our path-- and gently took it. It made no sound this time; it joined the silver leaves in my pouch.

So we moved on. Maybe a quarter of an hour after the eldest princess walked into the floor, our metallic surroundings changed yet again. The tall grass gave way to sandy beach and sparse reedy plants. A broad lake stretched out far beyond the pale sand. I could make out bright lights shining on the other side. I had thought that the surreal plant life had given to way that of more normal sights.

Then, a spider web woven between two stalks of beach grass caught my eye; besides being the first sign of animal life I had seen here, it sparkled quite unlike any cobweb I had ever seen before. I bent down and picked it up gently, and it came off easily into my hand. It wasn't made of the gossamer and dewdrops I expected, but was of the finest silver filament I had ever seen, almost invisible. Strung along it, were small teardrop-shaped diamonds. I looked at the ground around me suddenly, and gasped softly. I wasn't walking on sand, but tiny flawless diamonds, with a pearl mixed in ever so often. I was standing ever so casually on top of a mountain of wealth.

          The unreality of what I was seeing suddenly struck me; my eyes widened and pulled my cloak tighter around me. This place… what lived here, and why did the princesses come? Where did they dance, in this fantastical place? I turned toward them, as though the sight of them could answer my questions. But they had made it half way across the shore, nearly to the water. I ran toward them, grateful that none looked behind to see the sand flying up into the air from my unsteady footsteps.

          And it did answer my questions, somewhat. A fleet of slender rowboats came into view as I rounded a crest, each laden with a lantern on its back end and a young man in the middle. As I finally reached the water, the men were helping the princesses into each one of the twelve boats, ages corresponding with that of his lady. The first ones began to cast off, the men rowing. I stepped carefully into Lani's before they left. I knelt, somewhat painfully, in the small boat, and the youth in the boat pushed off. He glanced at Lani ruefully as he did so.

          "Have you been eating much lately, my dear? This boat seems a bit heavier then usual."

          "Oh, hush. You always tease me," she replied, smiling. Her eyes were empty.

                                      Î Ï Ð Ñ Ò Ó

          It didn't take long to reach the other side of the lake. I spent my time trying to puzzle out what I was going through. Once in a while I tried to get a glimpse of the rowing youth's face, but it was swathed in shadows. Once the boat came to a halt, I leapt from it as gracefully as I could, making sure to follow at the end of the group and step lightly. I did not want to find out what would happen to me if I were seen.

          I discovered that the lights I had seen across the water belonged to a huge palace by the sparkling crystalline shore. It looked to be made out of spun sugar, unimaginably delicate, spires reaching to the dark, dark sky. It was ablaze with light. Music and laughter spilled out into the gardens surrounding it. The young men debarked their rowboats after the princesses and went with them into the gardens, which were filled with roses of every kind, color, and scent. They were beautiful, to be certain, but I noticed that the thorns on them seemed to be as plentiful as the blooms, and far sharper than regularly seen. They weren't made out of precious metal or gems, which surprised me as I walked among them behind the ladies and their escorts. I took one on an impulse and stored with my three other treasures.

          The others ascended the wide stairs leading into the palace, me following invisibly. As I stopped on the threshold, the bright lights blinded me momentarily. When my vision cleared of spots, a fairy tale scene lay before my eyes.

          The room was tall, high as the sky, a faded mural painted on the ceiling. Graceful marble arches surrounded a wide gold-veined floor, immense windows set behind them. A long table was set close to a wall, laden with a magnificent feast. And on the floor, hundreds of people danced. They were a brilliantly dressed as a flock of exotic birds, clothing even fine than the princess'. Each person was unimaginably beautiful, but it was a cold haughty beauty that even a night of dancing couldn't warm. I moved into the shadows behind an arch to watch them more closely.

          A pair of dancers moved past me gracefully. The lady had hair as dark as night, and eyes the blue of a robin's egg. She stared straight ahead at her yellow-haired partner, who looked vaguely familiar. I perused my mind for he connection, but I came up empty-handed. I knew, knew, that I had seen someone like this before, but…

          The couple moved away, and I was left to find someone else to observe. My eyes fell upon Princess Tara and her partner. I could see their faces clearly now. All of the ladies' partners had given me that same nagging sense of deja-vu. They all looked alike, blonde and light-eyed, but that wasn't it. I decided that I should move closer to get a better view of them. I slithered through the shadows around the edges of the room, even though I knew I couldn't be seen. I felt like I was being watched.

          I ended up near the table covered in delicacies only seen in royal balls, on birthdays and at coronations. I gazed at a small slice of cake, studded with berries and striped with cinnamon. I glance toward the dancers surreptitiously before picking it up quickly and jumping back into darkness. I was hungry; I would never get to eat anything like this again. I raised it to my lips to take a bite. I got a taste of it, melting in my mouth, and then I let out a silent yell of surprise, spitting it out hastily. I could feel my mouth burning, on fire, once the taste settled on my tongue. Clips of a nursery tale wandered through my mind—Never eat the food of faery; once you swallow, you belong to them. You may stay there for hours, or forever, but when you climb out of their hill years will come and gone.

          I wiped my tongue ferociously, ridding myself of that blazing sensation. Was that it, then? The key to this puzzle? Was I in faery, under the hill? Had the princesses become bewitched?

          At that moment, I turned back toward the table stiffly, dropping the corner of my cloak I had been clutching. I moved jerkily, my mind feeling disconnected from my body. I looked back toward that table shining with everything conceivable, and saw Princess Tara approaching it, hand in hand with her handsome young escort. The music went on playing in the background, but the dancing stopped, the citizens of the otherworldly palace turning to stare at the princess and the young man.

          "Oh, come, darling, you must try some of this champagne. We procured it especially for you. You never have anything when you visit us; we work so hard to find something to please you," he said coaxingly, looking at Tara with innocent eyes. She giggled softly, and smiled at him adoringly.

          "Alright, if it pleases you. I would truly rather dance, as I have said before, but I might as well try something this once to get you to stop nagging me. I daresay I could stand a bit to drink."

          "Wonderful, wonderful. Here, have a bit of this," he replied, eyes shining strangely. He handed her a jeweled golden goblet, full with a light bubbly liquid. My eyes widened as she raised it to her lips, and time seemed to slow down interminably. I felt myself lunge forward with a speed I didn't think I still possessed, my crippled leg working as it did when I was still in my youth. My mouth opened to yell a warning, and sound emerged from my voice slowly. I didn't think…I acted on instinct before what I was seeing registered in my mind. Blink.

          "NO!"

          My cry reverberated through out the ballroom loudly. I was knocking the goblet from Tara's opened lips. Pale liquid spilled onto the sparking floor, the metal of the goblet ringing against the marble. Horrified expressions settled onto everyone's lovely faces. Blink.

          A moment later, the scene dissolved before me with a soundless roar I could feel in my stomach, rather than hear in my ears. The people around me twisted into dark shapes with a shrieking of their own, and the light disappeared, to be replaced by a harsh flickering glow. Then the air was pierced by a purely human scream, and I saw a few of my female companions sink to the floor like the well-bred young nobles they were. Tara backed away slowly, and my eyes focused on the tall shape that her young suitor had formed. I stared in horror and realization. Everything clicked in my head.

          A golden-haired man still stood before me, but he was no longer young. He looked my age, but his pale blue eyes were ancient. He was dressed in black from head to toe, embroidered with ebony thread. A low chuckle left his throat.

          "Well met, my friend, well met. I had not expected to seen you again. But, fate has a curious sense of humor. That, I have learned, if nothing else."

          "You," I whispered. My face was as white as a sheet, and well-remembered pain welled up in my right leg. "Why?"

          "Oh, nothing involving you. A young man of your homeland has quite a hatred for these girls. I can't imagine why. They dance so beautifully. A prince, in fact. I thought I could offer my services to him. For a price, of course."

          "What price" I asked. The prince, the insulted prince that started our war. What was the man thinking?

          "Why, blood, of course. I rarely ask for anything else. Now, having satisfied your curiosity, I'm afraid I shall have to kill you. And these lovely ladies. I was paid, you see. Can't break a deal."

          I felt myself panicking as he smiled at me again. No. No. No. I was not dying here. I had a job to do, I had to protect the princesses, I couldn't let them die down here in the cold, I couldn't die down here in the cold. The man, still nameless, took a step toward me. I backed away, and felt my knees buckle. I sank to the floor, the sounds of battle ringing in my ears.

          "Memory is powerful, isn't it? You're still frightened of me. Don't worry, it'll be over soon."

          He raised an arm, and a small sphere of black fire appeared at his fingertips, growing in size rapidly. Once it reached the size of a fist, it raced to my head. I ducked, covering myself with my cloak, but it found me still, enveloping me with pain. I grasped my cloak tightly, knuckles white and eyes bulging. He walked a few strides closer, and I saw the black fire gathering again. I looked around desperately; nothing to help me, nothing. My mind searching frantically for an idea, I heard a light thumping sound in front of me. I watched in surprise as a tattered slipper slid down the man's back, followed by another. Princess Tara stood there, eyes big. Another slipper, this one dove-gray as apposed to blue, hit him in the side. Lani gasped when his eyes fell on her, her arm poised to throw another slipper. I took advantage of the distraction to stand up shakily. I had nothing to fight with, but I was not going to die on my knees.

          I let go off my cloak, and as it shifted around me I felt something bang against my side gently. I looked into my cloak, and noticed something new—a hidden pocket. I scrambled for the clasp, and opened it. Inside was a small, heavy dagger; dull gray and the length of my hand. It was a plain piece of work, iron decorated only by a few worn words on the blade; I couldn't make them out. I hid it in my sleeve quickly. It was better than nothing.

          "So you want to be killed first, then? I have no objections as to order, of course, but your friend was the closest to me. You will have to discuss among yourselves who gets to before the other, since you both hit me."

          The two sisters glanced at each other fearfully, and back at the blonde man.

          "Too late. I choose Tara."

          The black ball of energy was thrown at her this time, knocking her to the ground much as it had done to me. I took a firm grip on the hilt of my new dagger, and jumped forward toward our captor's back. He turned around in surprise, but I had thrown all of my weight behind that small blade. It made contact and drove him to the cold floor, mouth open. It drove itself into his chest, painfully slow to my eyes, but only taking moments in truth.

                   Flash.

          My leg was on fire, excruciating pain ripping down it. I was on a wet battlefield, a man standing over me.

                   Flash.

          I was standing in a dim room, a person with a circlet whispering with a black-dressed figure in the dark.

                   Flash.

          I was in a huge murky ballroom, lying on top of a corpse. The skin around the dagger was burning, turning black and peeling away. I gagged and stood up, moving away from the smell of singed flesh. I could feel the ground trembling beneath my feet, the walls shaking softly. A hand touched my arm, and I saw a princess beckoning me toward her. He sisters had gathered by the door, still perfectly dressed. Their faces were frightened, but it was a welcome change from the blankness that used to be there.

          "The world is crumbling! Quickly, we have to leave before it disappears with us!"

          I joined the maidens and we ran from the empty room, from the rose garden that was already turning to ashes, rowing across the turbulent lake as best as we could. The sky had lost its' soft starlight, and the only light came form a hellish glow to the east. Once we had got to the other side, soaked with water, the thirteen of us dashed across the wide golden meadow. It had turned to dull brass beneath the strange light. Halfway through the silvery forest, Lani cried in a strangled voice,

          "Something's following us!"

          She was right. We could hear something whooshing behind us, howling with dark rage and taking the path with it. I quickened my pace, the princesses following suit. I could see a faint outline of light before us, and a grayish metal handle. I saw Princess Mina scramble up the stairs in front of me, pushing the door open hastily. I leapt through the opening after, the others following one by one. When Lain had gotten up, the darkness chasing us had reached the bottom of the steps. I saw a pair of glowing lights, a murky outline of a face, and then..

          The heavy wooden door slammed shut. The sounds beneath the floor stopped immediately, and I looked around the room to find three maids and a few guards staring at us, stunned. It was day, light pouring through a large window. It then occurred to me I had run the entire way from the demonic palace without one single limp.

                                                Î Ï Ð Ñ Ò Ó

          I was in the throne room again, my four treasures spread out across the small table by the thrones. The king was there as well, staring bemusedly at the diamond-strung spider web. The twelve princesses-- Mina, Nila, Tara, Kayla, Jani, Mira, Ana, Lara, Tali, Naia, Kara, and Lani—were sitting in chairs against the wall, looking at their lap, there father, and sometimes me. I had told the king the entire story, with help from his daughters. Their memories of their time spent under enchantment was hazy, so I ended up explaining most things. His Majesty had listened avidly throughout it. Now that I was done, he still remained silent.

          "You have accomplished a great feat, my boy. You must be rewarded," he said at last. "Is there anything you wish?"

          "I don't know," I replied hesitantly. "I haven't really thought about it."

          "Well then. I'll give you one of the more traditional prices. Which of my daughters would you like to marry?"     

          My eyes swept over the twelve young women and back to the king, shocked. He smiled gently.

          "Why, I don't know, your Majesty. I don't know any of them very well," I said, my voice shaky. The king chuckled at that.

          "Oh, that was a good answer, lad. Don't worry. I'll give you plenty of time to decide. But be quick about it; you're not getting any younger."

          "I suppose not. But I have thought of one request—could you perhaps pardon Sir Rhodric? It really wasn't his fault he fell asleep, and he didn't try anything nefarious." It was true. Tara had convinced, somewhat dazedly, to drugging the knight and trying to drug me.

          "Why not? Now, if you will excuse me, I must be off. A celebration of some sort is in order. I only hope my girls have not completely tired of dancing yet."