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“Now then,” said Wolf as he bowed. “Climb, Thing.”
My fingers sank into his feathers, and I gripped them as I clambered onto his back.
“Hold tight!” he said, stretching his large wings and lifting off the ground.
The beat of his wings was loud, and the wind felt like a physical thing, cutting across my face as we ascended into the air and took off toward the mountains, which I could see in the distance now that I was above Casamir’s castle. There wasn’t much I feared, perhaps because I was not afraid of death, but seeing the mountains in all their splendor made me afraid.
They curtained the horizon, glittering in bright, blinding flashes of light. Their brilliance was almost too much to behold, but I squinted against the splendor, making out their sharp, needlelike peaks and harsh edges, realizing that without the sun, the mountains were nothing save slabs of cold rock.
Though that did nothing to lessen the dread boiling in the pit of my stomach.
I peeked at the world beneath my feet, which was thick with forest and cut through by streams, but my eyes held on the rounded green and gold roofs of what looked like a palace.
“Who lives below?” I asked the raven, though I was not certain he could hear me.
“That is the Kingdom of Nightshade. It is ruled by one of the seven.”
“One of Casamir’s brothers?”
“The third one, Prince Lore.”
Lore. I remembered him, the one who had taken my knife.
What kingdom had the dead brother ruled? Who ruled it now?
“If there are seven princes, is there a king?”
“The Elder King is dead.”
“And he left no heir?”
“He left seven.”
“That is not what I mean. Why are there still seven princes? Why is there no king?”
“The king could not choose between his sons, so he declared upon his death that whoever reassembled the Magic Mirror shall be king of the Enchanted Forest. One piece to each brother and there has been no king since.”
“That seems like a horrible way to choose a king,” I said.
Though having met all seven princes, I was certain the king recognized that none of his sons would make suitable kings.
“Or perhaps it is a perfect way,” said Wolf.
The raven continued to glide through the air until he soared over the Glass Mountains, and then he began to circle and descend.
I shielded my eyes as the sun reflected off the surface of the mountains and watched in wonder as we landed on a slope between crests that rose like great pillars and kissed the sky.
“Off, Thing,” said Wolf, and I shifted my leg over his back and slid off the raven’s back.
My feet slipped as I hit the ground, but I steadied myself before I could fall. Still, my legs felt fragile and shook with my weight after my flight through the sky.
“What do I do?” I asked Wolf.
“Knock,” he said.
Gingerly, I bent and rapped my knuckles against the smooth surface of the mountain and was surprised by how the sound echoed around me, vibrating the air, but then silence fell like a shroud, pressing against my body like a heavy weight.
“Hello?” I called as I stood.
