down their scales, running into their eyes so that they had to close their second set of eyelids to see. Although the lids were transparent, they made everything look a little less distinct. The wind grew fierce, pummeling them. Lightning flashed as the dragons flew over the enchanted forest, and they landed at the castle in a deluge that had already made the moat overflow its bank and created small rivers within the castle grounds. The sky was so heavy with thick, gray clouds that even if the sun were high, its light couldn’t have gotten through.
Millie was convinced that it had to be past dawn when she and Audun landed in the courtyard and ran up the castle steps. They both changed back to their human forms as soon as they were inside, shuddering in the pounding rain that soaked them to the skin even as they worked together to close the door against the force of the wind.
Sighing with relief, Millie led the way to the Great Hall, a shortcut to the stairs that led to their rooms and dry clothes. Although Millie wasn’t surprised to see the torches lit as if it were still night, she didn’t expect to see a murmuring crowd gathered around her grandmother in the Hall. Queen Chartreuse was wringing her hands as tears streamed down her pale cheeks. Guards strode purposefully through the Hall, their expressions somber.
“Grandmother, what’s wrong?” Millie asked, running to the side of the queen.
“Felix is gone!” sobbed Queen Chartreuse. “Someone came in the night and stole him away!”
Four
W hat do you mean, someone stole Felix?” asked Millie. “Are you sure, because one day last month I went to see him and he’d been fussy and his nursemaid had taken him for a walk. I was sure he’d been kidnapped until I found them in the garden.”
A middle-aged woman standing behind the queen wailed and buried her face in her hands. Sobbing loudly, the woman ran from the Hall.
“What’s wrong with her?” said Audun.
Millie frowned, staring at the door through which the figure had just disappeared. “That was his nursemaid. I guess that means she’s not with him. Can someone please tell me what happened?”
A tall, distinguished-looking man with white hair and a trim white beard had just come into the Hall through a different door. “I can tell you,” King Limelyn, her grandfather, said. “His nursemaid said she’d heard a strange sound in the corridor outside your brother’s chamber. She went into the hallway to investigate and found nothing unusual. When she tried to go back into Felix’s room, the door was locked. She ran down the corridor to call for the guards; the door was standing open when they arrived. They hurried in to investigate and found the baby’s crib empty. I’ve had my men search every floor, but so far we haven’t found even the smallest clue as to what might have happened.”
“I knew your mother shouldn’t go away!” the queen wailed. “Those old witches had no right to ask Grassina for help and she had no right to go. And then your mother went traipsing off after her! Both of my daughters are more interested in helping others than they are in seeing to their responsibilities here at home. If they had been here, none of this would have happened.”
“That’s not fair, Grandmother,” said Millie. “My mother does what she feels she has to and so does Great-Aunt Grassina. They work hard for Greater Greensward and you know it.”
“Your grandmother is just upset, Millie,” said the king. “We’re all very worried. If my men don’t find your brother, we may need to ask for magical help.”
“Audun and I can look, too,” said Millie. “There has to be something that can tell us what happened to Felix.”
Millie and Audun ran up the steps to the baby prince’s room. Guards were inspecting the doorway and the corridor, but the room inside was empty. The prince’s crib stood against the far wall, holding nothing more than a light silk blanket and a golden rattle