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There was a book I liked to steal from the highest shelf in our library, a book that told the story of our king. In it, King Léo was crowned with a laurel by six of the gods, clouds artfully shielding their faces even in the illustration. The gods were too far beyond us, too good for us to know their appearances. But they were so pleased with the king that theyblessedhim.

On the next page was a sprawling depiction of the palace itself. It was surrounded by a beautiful garden filled with statues and hedges and flowers, all drawn in shades of black, white, and gray. The very gates, the book claimed, were covered in gold. I could imagine it, a whole palace surroundedby brilliant light, like the rays of the sun.

It seemed fantastical, too good to be true, but my motherhadlived there. She was proof that this place, this story, wasreal.

Mother could have that fairy tale again, with me by her side. I could change everything. And she’d be happy at last.

“Think of it,” I whispered. “Together we’d dance in the ballroom and ride gondolas on the canal in the gardens... and you wouldn’t need to fight Shadows anymore.” I tugged on her hand imploringly. “Youmustcome with me. You must see a world beyond this wall. Think of all you could write about! I cannot bear to see such beauty without you. And also, I’m horrible at reading maps, so I would be quite lost without you.”

At this, she let out a bark of a laugh, and a slow, relenting smile dawned on her face. “Very well. I’ll be your knight.”

I gasped in delight. “Oh, I hoped you would say yes! It’s going to be a dream, I promise; we’ll dress in violet and dance all night and try foods we’ve never dreamed of!”

With a twirl, I faced the horizon, the world sweet as sparkling wine and ours for the taking. There was a forest far off, like a low storm cloud. And then, near the edge of the hazy gray woods was a dark silhouette, a tall person standing afar, their head cocked at a strange angle.

Lope stood by my side. Her eyes narrowed into slits.

“It couldn’t be,” she whispered. “It’s too early.”

“Too early?”

The silhouette seemed to stand taller. Its edges were fuzzy, as if a trick of the fading light. And in the next blink, it had collapsed, melting into the ground. In its place, a vast, black Shadow sped across the grass, like some great bird was flying overhead.

Flying right toward us.

Fear and memories clenched my heart in a cold grasp—I have seen this before, I thought.

Lope swore and dove for the sword discarded in the grass. I whirled back toward the space where the Shadow had been, but—

Sharp claws anchored in my hair, scraping against my scalp before wrenching me backward. I felt the world tilt as I hit the grass with no time even to scream before the breath was knocked from my lungs. Directly above me was a shape that bore only the faintest memory of what a human looked like. Its face was swirling, black smoke, completely featureless. In the void where its mouth ought to have been, jaws slowly unhinged, down, down, far past what should have been possible.

Suddenly, I was seven years old again, as helpless as I had been the night I had first seen a Shadow. It made the same horrible, rattling growl, the sound that lingered in the back of my mind during the darkest nights.

A scream tore out of my throat, my entire body goingcold.I’m going to die I’m going to die I’m going to—

The creature howled as it was wrenched away from me by some unseen force. In that moment of freedom, I scrambled up to my feet, just long enough to see Lope atop the Shadow. With one hand, she pressed upon its neck, forcing it down even as it hissed and writhed and snapped its toothless jaws at her. With a jerk of her arm, she held her sword high before she rammed the blade through its head.

It seized and wailed, and then it was gone. Fizzled away into bits of smoke and shadow that melted into the earth like rain.

Lope’s chest heaved. She yanked her sword out from where it was now plunged into the dirt. Aside from the remnants of dark soil against the steel, the blade was unstained. Shadows had no blood.

My trembling legs failed me, and I fell back onto the grass, shielding my head with my arms. Weak, childlike sobs broke from my lips. I was two places at once: I was a little girl in the garden, and Mother was lifting me out of a Shadow’s grasp, her arms weeping blood; I was lying in the field just beyond the wall, breathless with tears.

An urgent voice came from above, from the waning sunlight itself. “My lady, are you harmed?”

The fearless knight, the knight from my storybooks. Lope looked me over with frantic eyes, even as she held steadily to her sword. I could barely fathom how she was so calm.

But Lope had faced such creatures every night since she was twelve years old. Not just one.Hundreds, she said. Dozens at a time, always in the darkest part of the night. That was a Shadow’s domain. They never ever appeared during the daytime—but the faintest bit of daylight still lit the sky a pale, mournful pink.

“I’m going to carry you,” she said, and I blinked past the evening light, focusing on the gray of her eyes. “Keep your arms around my neck.”

The Shadow was gone now; we weresafenow, but all I wanted to do was bury my head against her heart and weep. Why could I not stop shaking?

I held on to her like she told me to, but my pulse thundered with her every step. My mind was slowly, desperately trying to catch up with all that had happened.I was going to die. She saved my life. She saved me.

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Ofelia