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E lowen felt a momentary sensation of weightlessness as Ash hurtled forward.

“Let go of the saddle!” Vale wrapped both his arms around her as Ash hurtled forward. “He’s aiming for that lake!”

What lake?

They skimmed the treetops, and then she and Vale were flying free, surrounded by light. He kicked the saddle away from them seconds before they barreled into the lake.

Elowen was alone, cold and wet and tumbling in the dark. She swallowed a mouthful of water and then flailed until she broke the surface and gulped in air.

Where was Ash?

Vale emerged a few yards away and swam to her. “Are you all right? Can you swim?”

“A little.” She wasn’t all right. Where was her dragon?

Vale half dragged her towards the shore. It was farther than she’d expected. She wouldn’t worry if Ash were any other goose, but could he swim in deep water with his golden feathers? She imagined him sinking to the bottom of the lake the same way he’d fluttered to the bottom of the ravine.

The lake and the woods became clearer as dawn arrived, and finally, a tremendous splashing and spluttering reached them. Ash was swimming towards them, if it could be called swimming. At least he wasn’t sinking.

“Elowen!” Ash surged forward. “Grab hold of me. These feathers float better than they fly.”

She put an arm around him and kicked gently by his side as he paddled, feeling more confident in the water with him near.

The saddle and its pack were threatening to sink into the murky depths of the lake, so Vale deftly swam over to fetch them. When they reached dry ground, Ash waddled onto the bank and dropped to the grass. Elowen scrambled out of the water and sank down next to her dragon. Vale followed, dragging the soggy saddle and pack onto the shore. He threw them down near Elowen.

“Let’s not ... do that ... again.” He leaned against the saddle, breathing heavily.

“Agreed,” Ash whispered hoarsely. “I think I drank half the lake.”

“I drank the other half,” Elowen said. She put an arm around him to take away the sting of her next words. “That was not your best landing.”

Ash snorted and then cough-honked. “I’m sorry.” He pressed his neck against her in a goose hug. “I really am. I thought I could make it. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

“What about me?” Vale asked.

“I’m sure you couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her, either.”

Vale huffed. “Can’t argue with that.”

After making camp and eating what food hadn’t been spoiled by the dunk in the lake, Elowen and Vale spread out their wet clothes and belongings to dry. Vale stretched out on the sand in his underclothes to rest, while Elowen found her waterproof cloak and rolled up in it beneath a leafy oak. Ash estimated that it should take them three hours of walking to get to the castle, perhaps less if they found a road.

Elowen woke before noon and dressed quickly.

“I caught lunch.” Ash stood before three trout laid on the grass, his chest puffed out in pride. He’d also piled up four more golden feathers.

Vale sat up and yawned. “How did you manage to catch anything?”

“I waded in. My feathers caught their attention, and then I caught them before they knew what happened.”

Vale grinned, but then he glanced at the fish with a frown.

Elowen threw his dry clothes to him. “Get dressed, and I’ll show you how to cook them.”

She and Ash got a decent fire going with flint and steel by the time Vale joined them. She gutted and cleaned the fish, poked them onto a smoothed stick, and arranged them over the fire. Vale asked questions as she worked. He looked equally impressed with her ability to cook the fish as he’d been with Ash’s ability to catch them.

“I don’t think I’d make it out here without the two of you,” Vale said.

Elowen answered, “You wouldn’t be out here if it weren’t for the two of us.”

He chuckled.

“Actually,” she added, remembering how he’d taken care of her in the city, “I was thinking the same thing in your castle.”

“The fish will take a while to cook if you two want to change into your fancy clothes,” Ash said. “I think they’re mostly dry.”

“I just got dressed,” Vale complained, but he took his fine clothes and disappeared into the woods.

“I’ll see if there are any edible mushrooms around.” Ash grabbed the yellow-and-gold sash from Elowen’s gown to use as a basket of sorts and followed him.

Elowen hung up the cloak as a dressing screen and sighed. She would much rather face the trolls in comfortable, familiar clothes. After struggling into the bronze gown without Mari’s assistance, she checked on the fish and then sat down in the sand to wait.

Ash returned carrying the yellow sash in his beak. He dumped it near the fire and several handfuls of orange mushrooms scattered onto the ground.

“What do I do with these?” Elowen asked.

“Poke them on a stick and roast them.”

Vale finally joined them while Elowen was placing the cooked mushrooms on a rock to cool.

“I found some, too.” He unrolled his everyday shirt to reveal more orange mushrooms.

“Wait,” Ash said. He inspected the mushrooms carefully, sniffing and poking them with his beak. “These aren’t chanterelles.”

Elowen stared at Vale’s offering. “They look the same to me.”

“Those are smiling-pumpkin mushrooms.”

“Smiling ... pumpkins?” Elowen asked. She’d never heard of such a thing.

“You know ... scoop out a pumpkin, carve a smiling face, and light it with a candle to welcome autumn. Pumpkins are orange ... these are orange ...”

“Where are you from, exactly?” Vale asked.

“Never mind,” Ash said. “The point is that these are poisonous. Not kill-you deadly, but they’d make a person sick for a few days.”

Vale flung them into the woods. “I told you I wouldn’t make it out here on my own.”

After their meal, they packed everything they had left and made their way to the trolls’ castle. Elowen carried Ash in the cloak sling, while Vale carried the saddle and remaining supplies. He’d strapped his sword to his belt since a nobleman’s weapon would add extra authenticity to their story.

It didn’t take long for them to come across signs of trolls—faint footprints and felled trees left to rot. When Ash estimated they had about another half hour to reach the castle, they stopped to find him a good hiding spot. He would be vulnerable as a goose, so they chose a squat old elm with a hollow in the base of its trunk. Ash settled himself inside, while Elowen and Vale carried a felled sapling with leaves still hanging on and placed it before the entrance. After fashioning a screen of smaller branches and leaves to complete the hideout, they inspected their work.

“Perhaps you should roll in the dirt to take away some of the shine of the feathers,” Elowen suggested.

“I’ve been traveling through mud and dirt this whole time, and none of it seems to stick for long,” Ash said. “Perhaps it’s part of the enchantment.”

“Here.” Elowen shoved the waterproof cloak through the branches and draped it over him. “That’s better.”

“Remember,” Vale said, “You can’t walk around while you’re a goose.”

“I know, I know. Do you think I want the trolls to see me?” He picked at the cloak. “It’s almost noon. You two should leave and make the most of your time.”

Elowen’s throat tightened, but she refused to shed tears now. “Are you sure—?”

“I’m sure.” Ash wiggled his leg with its frayed blue ribbon still tied around it. “You have my token, along with your coin. You have seven golden feathers. You have your prince.”

Vale grinned, obviously pleased at being included.

“Today is day one. I’ll set my diversion at sundown on the third day.”

“Right,” Elowen said. She could do this. It’s what she had set out to do. “Right. We’ll see you soon.”

She and Vale hid the saddle and remaining supplies in a tree stump and covered them over with leaves and rocks.

Fifteen minutes of walking and snagging their clothes on bushes and weeds brought them to a dirt road—no bricks or stones or paving of any kind, but welcome nonetheless. With the sun almost overhead, though, the loss of shade was disappointing.

“Shouldn’t there be a village so near the castle?” Elowen asked.

Vale took her hand now that they could walk more easily side by side. “There are about half a dozen ... cottages over on that hillside.”

Calling them cottages was generous. The castle itself loomed in the distance just beyond a hill, but it looked more like ruins than anything else. At least it would be easier to approach the front gate without onlookers.

Still, at least she knew they were in troll territory. The footprints of two trolls might have been difficult to find around her farm, but footprints abounded here. Many of the trees unlucky enough to grow beside the road had gouges cut into their trunks, broken branches, or both. Uprooted tree stumps formed an uneven wall on one stretch, and boulders were scattered haphazardly both on the road and beside it. They passed an enormous broken cart, clearly troll-sized. She shivered, remembering the strength of the troll who had stripped and shaken the cherry tree in an effort to get her out.

Elowen tried to keep her hand steady so Vale wouldn’t feel her shaking. If they made it inside ... no, once they made it inside the trolls’ castle, Ash wouldn’t be able to swoop in and rescue them. They would be on their own. Suddenly, her plan seemed silly at best, and unpredictably dangerous at worst. What did a farm girl know about rescuing anyone?

“Everything will be all right,” Vale said. He squeezed her hand and smiled reassuringly.

“You can’t promise me that. The trolls aren’t your people, even if they are squatting in your kingdom. We may be posing as nobility—well, you are royalty—but no one has to listen to your orders. You have no authority here.”

He nodded, perhaps considering for the first time that he would not be in charge of anyone in the trolls’ castle. Elowen was used to having people in authority over her, but Vale was not. Even when he spent time as a blacksmith, he was still ultimately the prince.

“If things get bad,” he said, “Get yourself out, and your brother, if possible.”

“What about you?”

“If I’m gone long enough, Father might risk an incident to get me back.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Unless Briony proves herself and I’m not needed anymore.”

She wondered sadly if he actually believed that.

Several minutes passed, and there were still no trolls in sight. Had they come to the wrong place?

“So, what do you want to do with those golden feathers?” Vale asked.

“We want to appear rich, right?”

“As rich as possible.”

“I thought I might ... wear them in my hair. Is that stupid? Would the trolls find it believable?”

“Ha! Many court ladies have worn feathers in their hair, and much stranger things. It’s perfect.”

She smiled in relief. “Let’s step under the trees for a few minutes. In case anyone passes by.”

After making it a few yards into the woods, Elowen let go of his hand, wiped her sweaty palm on her dress, and pulled out the feathers and surviving hairpins. She turned to Vale, feathers in one hand, hairpins in the other. “I don’t know how to do this.”

He bowed and took everything from her. “’Tis nothing, my lady. Please sit here on this rock and leave everything to me.”

She chuckled and shooed away a bee.

He knelt in front of her and muttered, “Here goes nothing.”

She concentrated on his face, fighting a grin at how seriously he was taking the task. His black eyes were focused, and he bit his bottom lip almost imperceptibly. Her heart sped up, and she tried to blame it on her nervousness about facing trolls. He’d kissed her with those lips. On the forehead. She wondered—

“All done.” Vale inspected his work.

Blushing furiously, Elowen put a hand to her hair. He’d managed to pull back a section at one temple and had secured the feathers in a descending cluster so the trolls would see them as soon as they saw her.

“Do I look ridiculous?” Her voice was shaking along with her hands now. “I feel ridiculous. I think I’m wearing more money than my family’s farm is worth.”

“You’re beautiful,” Vale said.

Now he was staring at her, and she couldn’t look away.

“You definitely do not look ridiculous,” he said softly. His gaze flickered down and back again so quickly she almost missed it. “No one would have a problem believing you’re a proper lady.”

She doubted that, but his words reassured her.

He held out his hand. When she took it, he helped her up and pulled her close. With a mischievous grin, he kissed her on the lips. “Let’s go get your brother, and then we can ... talk.”

Her heart leaped into her throat, and she no longer had to wonder what his lips would feel like against hers. Thankfully, he started walking towards the road, and she let him pull her along, grateful to hide behind his back. She let the confidence in his words distract her from his actions and how much she wanted to ... talk more.

They were going to get her brother.

Once she’d regained her composure, and waved away another bee, she picked up their conversation from before. “So, are you serious about not wanting to be the heir of Northling? Would you really give up all of that to live a more common life?”

“More than anything. I want to be out from under the scrutiny of the court. I want to stop trying to live up to someone else’s expectations of me and constantly falling short. Briony really is cut out to rule—she wants in as much as I want out.”

He reminded her of Alder and his desire to do things that were not possible for a normal farmer’s son, his passion for something he wasn’t born to.

“What would you do,” she asked, “if you were free?”

He stopped and pulled out his sword, turning it to show her every angle. “I made this. I want to make more things like it. Not necessarily weapons, but useful tools for building and mending and growing. Father scoffs. He says I was born for greater things, as if the small things aren’t important. They are important, vital even, to people who use them every day.”

Elowen thought of their fence broken by the juvenile unicorn. King Odolph wouldn’t think much of it, surrounded as he was by such massive walls and impressive stone towers. But without that fence, their livestock would be at risk. Without the livestock, their lives would be at risk.

“I understand.” All of a sudden, she could imagine Vale on her farm, repairing tools with Father, looking with pride over a field of golden wheat ready for harvest, learning from Cedar the proper way to chop and stack firewood. She grinned at the thought of her little brother acting as a big brother for a change.

She took Vale’s hand. “Let’s go get Cedar so we can ... talk to everyone.”