Page 57 of Feathered Thief

“If breaking the spell includes robbing a princess of her free will, then my answer is ‘not’! When I find the princess, I shall inform her of the situation and allow her to make her own choices before we proceed further.”

The fox tilted his head, blinked twice, and sighed. “You are proving more difficult than any of the other spoiled young royals, lords, and mercenaries I’ve escorted.”

“And how many of them got this far?”

His cold yellow eyes blinked. “If you intend to rescue the princess, you’d best get to it quickly. Fortunately, darkness falls late at this latitude and season, and only one rescuer, you, must enter the castle before twilight. Find the bathhouse and wait for her there. Good luck to you.” He assumed a jocular tone that sent a chill down Lenka’s spine. “Who knows? If your kiss is good enough, Princess Helena might just choose to marry you instead of her prince.”

Irritated on this cursed princess’s behalf, Lenka opened her mouth to ask where in the castle she might find the bathhouse, but before she could speak, the fox vanished into the underbrush beside the road.

Her heart sank. Now what? She looked to Papa and Geoffroi. “It shouldn’t be too hard to locate the only person in the palace who’s awake.”

Papa folded his arms across his chest. “I intend to go with you.”

“But you can’t, Papa. You heard the rules. The spell won’t allow you in, and if you try, it might block my entrance as well.”

His brows lowered. Then he gave her a short nod. “Be wary, child.”

“I will be.” She was already trembling in her boots. He knew her too well.

“Godspeed,” Geoffroi said, his voice resonant and encouraging.

Lenka climbed the curving drive with resolution in her heart even while she shivered in a cold breeze. They must have climbed to an altitude much higher than Bolislaus, her capital city back in Trinec.

But was it really her home? The ease with which she understood the language of Wroclaw seemed increasingly suspicious. Geoffroi may be right. But if she belonged here, how had she and her dear tree ended up in King Gustik’s garden?

Never mind. She had enough mysteries to puzzle through just then without resurrecting her forgotten past. She hiked her chin, sent up a sincere prayer for guidance, and continued up that road in the face of a cold wind that cut right through her coat and made her eyes water. What a miserable location for a castle!

By the time she saw the stone towers looming above, a brilliant sunset illuminated them and the rugged mountainside. A drawbridge spanned a narrow river rushing between steep banks, and beyond it Lenka glimpsed the open gateway to a courtyard. No guards were in sight.

If everyone in the castle except the princess was in an enchanted sleep all the time, how did the poor girl maintain her sanity? Or . . . what if she’d gone insane?

Lenka shuddered from cold and dread . . . but standing outside the walls solved nothing. She dashed across the bridge and through the gates . . . and stopped short.

The courtyard was empty, but she sensed otherworldly magic everywhere.

Faymagic.

She couldn’t linger—a wind pushed her onward and around on a sloping walkway until she reached a side door that led her into the basement kitchen, where a fire crackled on the hearth beneath a pot. Her empty stomach pinched at the sight and scent of porridge. What time had the fox said the princess would wake? She couldn’t remember. Twilight? Midnight?

Lenka hurried up to the main floor and along an empty hallway, opening a door here and there only to find empty rooms. Surprisingly, every chamber she peered into, no matter its size, had a banked fire on the hearth. After that penetrating mountain wind, the castle felt downright cozy. It was all part of the enchantment, of course, but she couldn’t tell whether the magic she sensed was good or evil. Perhaps . . . neither? What if she was now trapped in this castle alone?

A sudden sense of urgency—not quite panic but close enough—drove her to follow the fox’s advice and find the bathhouse. Common sense told her to look in a low area of the house, so she returned to the basement kitchen. Some of its walls were solid rock. Might there be caves behind the castle?

Her search was quickly rewarded. Steps behind the pantry led down to an open door. As she approached, she heard what sounded and smelled like fresh water and stone. Hopes rising, she entered a tunnel with pale light at what must be its far end. She shivered, but not with cold.

What if she was too late and the mysterious princess was already in her bath? She forced herself to hurry along the shadowy corridor, and her pace quickened as the sound of running water increased to a muffled roar. At last, she burst through another doorway and stopped short, almost frozen in disbelief.

Instead of a cold dark cave, she stood in an illuminated chamber fit for a queen. Its walls and floor glowed like polished marble. The crystal-like stalactites that formed the ceiling shimmered with light. Magic filled the place, and she felt . . . welcome. Warmth filled her heart, and a memory flickered through her mind of a beautiful woman with long golden hair standing before . . . Lenka looked right, and yes! Wardrobes of polished wood lined one wall of the cavern.

Another memory turned her around . . . and she came face-to-face with a dirty-faced person. Horrified, she gasped before realizing it was her own reflection. The wall was a sheet of reflective glass unlike anything she could have imagined . . . But had she seen it before?

As she studied the bedraggled person in the glass, her expression shifted to disgust at her skinny legs in baggy brown hose, the smudged face under her hood, and her shapeless blob of a body. With an annoyed huff, she turned back to open the first wardrobe’s door and sighed with delight at an array of lovely gowns. She couldn’t resist holding a green-silk kirtle up to herself.

But no gown could make the ragamuffin in that mirror pretty or alluring. What foolish dreams and imaginings had Lenka embraced as truth? She quickly returned the garment to its hook and closed the wardrobe door with unnecessary force.

Whenever this Princess Helena did show up, Lenka would likely hate her at first sight.

Ugh. She gave herself a shake. Enough time-wasting! She needed a place to hide where she could see without being seen, and she needed it now.

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