She went as fast or as slow as she wanted, sometimes dawdling to sample grass along the path and other times running to catch up with Tristan’s chestnut brown stallion. Tristan kept yelling really useful hints to me like

“show her you mean business” and “she won’t listen to you unless you’re firm with her.” I tried being firm, but apparently the horse had already figured out that she was much bigger than I was, and basically ignored me altogether.

For part of the trip, the path took us through a forest.

Tristan pulled out his sword then, and rode with it grasped in his hand. His gaze swung between the trees, and he told me in a hushed voice that he was watching for thieves who sometimes waylaid travelers on this road. I never saw anything out of the ordinary, though, 187/431

and we passed through the forest with only the birds and a grazing doe taking note of us.

Eventually we came to the castle walls. The guards let us in without question. They knew who Tristan was and he told them I was a lady from his land who wanted to pay her respects to Princess Margaret.

We brought our horses to the stables and Tristan gave a boy some coins to tend to them. Then Tristan walked to the armory to buy spears and order armor, a task that would take a good part of the afternoon since he had to be measured for it. I made my way toward the castle.

I had expected the grounds to be mostly empty, but it looked like a miniature version of a city within the walls.

Several shops lined the castle perimeter. Chickens ran free, pecking at the grounds one moment and then scurrying out of the way of pedestrians the next. Washerwomen set linens out to dry. Others pulled buckets of water from the well.

Some men unloaded large barrels from a wagon and I heard them discussing the banquet that would be held in three days’ time. It was the twenty-fifth anniversary of the inauguration of King Roderick, and they were expecting guests from all over the kingdom.

I walked slowly toward the main entrance, trying to think of what to say to Princess Margaret and how I could get information about the Black Knight. Right 188/431

now, I only knew what little Tristan had told me yesterday and a few more facts he’d mentioned on the ride up.

According to Tristan, the Black Knight had first ridden to the castle gates several months ago, challenging the knights of the court. Now that no one would accept his challenges, he only came every couple of weeks. He’d sit atop his black warhorse just beyond the drawbridge and shout, “Are there no knights who support the heir of the throne? Is not Prince Edmond capable of defending his title?”

This was the sort of thing that basically angered and embarrassed the court. Once, while the Black Knight was shouting all of this, Prince Edmond had sent six guards to knock him off his horse, drag him inside, and make his identity known. But the Black Knight had defeated all of them. Their swords had simply bounced off him like they’d been nothing more than twigs. That’s why everyone thought he was enchanted.

After that incident, the Black Knight vowed that one day soon he would come back and take revenge for such treatment. If anyone found the courage to fight him in the meantime, they could ring the tower bell three times to signal a competition to be fought just outside the castle walls.

It would be normal enough for me, a visitor to this land, to ask Princess Margaret questions about the Black 189/431

Knight. It wouldn’t be normal, however, if a visitor started spitting up snakes during the conversation. I hadn’t told Tristan about that little habit of mine.

I also worried that Princess Margaret would recognize me as Cinderella. True, it had been eight months ago and I’d been dressed in rags and smeared with soot when I met her, but what if she was one of those people who never forgot a face— especially if it was a face that had dumped a pitcher of mead over a noblewoman’s head? Would the princess assume I was an impostor?

I was thinking about these things so intently that I almost didn’t notice the man. I only saw him because all the children had stopped playing and stood in an eager line to watch him come out of the castle.

“It’s Lord Pergis,” they whispered to one another.

“Perchance he’ll do some magic for us.” I stopped walking and looked at the man. He had a full gray beard, eyebrows sprouting in disarray over deep-set eyes, and a cap that looked more like it belonged on a peasant than anyone of importance. He wore an embroidered maroon robe that nearly swept the ground, and the circles and stars on the fabric shimmered as he strode out of the castle and walked toward a wagon.

A young man, perhaps a few years older than myself, followed after him, hauling a pack on his back that was 190/431

even bigger and looked considerably heavier than the one I’d brought with me. My gaze automatically stopped on him, the way it does whenever a good-looking guy comes into view. He had thick dark hair and brown eyes that reminded me for a moment of Hunter. His maroon robe—just as long as the wizard’s but without any em-broidery—hid most of his build, but his shoulders were broad, and I could tell by the ease with which he hauled the pack around that he was muscular.

The two men walked over to a wagon that waited in the courtyard. One of the bigger children pushed a little boy forward. “Ask him. Ask the wizard to do a trick for us.”

“Not I,” said the little one. “He might turn me into a rabbit.”

I didn’t blame him for being scared. The wizard had a scowl on his face and muttered things under his breath as he and his apprentice unloaded his pack into the wagon.

I walked over to him anyway. Wizards knew magic.

Perhaps they knew how to undo fairy spells put on people through signing foolish contracts.

He didn’t look at me as I approached, just kept unloading flasks, dried plants, and several objects I couldn’t identify. I heard him mumbling angrily, and as I approached the wagon I could make out his words.

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“Queen Neferia didn’t find me worthless. She’s been happy enough with my wares. Twice she’s bought my disguise potion. And a magic mirror. Paid me well, too.

But now I’m worthless because I’ve nothing to defeat the Black Knight. As if I could break the laws of magic. The royals know nothing of the ways of enchantments. Nothing. Aye, there’s a lesson for you to mark, Simon.” He turned to his apprentice and waved a bundle of something to emphasize the point. “When royalty is too important to learn the ways of magic and too impatient to listen to the instructions of wizards, it will be their downfall.”

I waited to catch his eye and when I didn’t, I said, “Excuse me—”

Without looking up he said, “I’m all out of love charms, and even if I wasn’t, I only sell to royalty or them that have magic to trade.” He glanced up, squinted in my direction, and then added, “Bah, you don’t need love charms anyway. What are you wasting my time for?” He waved a dismissive hand at me, then continued to unpack. “Just swoon a bit for your gentleman and that should do the trick. Off with you now.” I didn’t move, and neither did Simon. He’d stopped unpacking and was blatantly appraising me until the wizard nudged him. Then Simon went back to sorting 192/431

things in the wagon, but I took a step closer to the wizard. “I’m not looking for a love charm.” The wizard took a pair of small wooden boxes from his apprentice and stacked them in the wagon. “It matters not. I see no crown on your head, and I only sell to royals. They like it that way, so unless you’ve magic to trade with me, I’ve nothing more to say.” Muttering to himself again he added, “I’ve stayed in these parts too long.”

“I have some things you might like.” I walked over to his side. “I have instant fire on little sticks. Here, I’ll show you.” I had some of the valuables I’d brought from home in a satchel tied around my hip. I took out the box of matches and struck one. “See how easy it is?” He grunted, unimpressed. “Any wizard’s apprentice can make fire out of naught. What else do you have?” I pulled out a spoon from my pouch. “A place setting of silverware that never needs to be polished.” He took the spoon from my hand and turned it over in his palm. “Nicely made, but my clients have servants to polish their silver. What else do you have?”