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So if life is magic, and Granny was dying, then what was really dying was her magic. It was fading from her. But did it have to fade? What if that magic could be replenished? What if there was a way to live forever?
    I’d seen death on The Mountain. I’d heard the bell chime thirteen times and the endless cries and wails of those who mourned the loss of loved ones. Some people never recovered from their grief. Some people were lost without their loved ones. Death was awful, and all these thoughts came down to one simple fact:
    I didn’t want Granny to die. Not ever.
    And now I had within my grasp a possible key to saving her. Dwarves knew things. Secret things. Magic things.
    “My granny is very sick,” I began.
    “I can give you directions to an apothecary, herbalist, physician—” The dwarf rattled off different options with a glazed expression.
    “No,” I interrupted, “I don’t need any of those. I want to know…That is, could you possibly…Do you know of some magic that could keep someone alive? Forever?”
    The dwarf’s eyebrows rose to two sharp points. “Ah, death. The human tragedy. Your pitifully short existence is not enough for you. You fear
the end.
”
    I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not afraid. I’m just trying to help my granny and you’re not helping. You’re supposed to do as I ask. Or do I need to snatch your beard again?”
    The dwarf stepped back and grabbed his beard protectively. “Oh, begging your pardon,
master,
” he said in a poisonous voice. “I
can
tell you of magic that could make you live forever, but it all depends on how far you’re willing to go.”
    I thought of Granny, how miserable and alone I would be if I didn’t have her. “To the ends of the earth,” I said.
    “That’s what they all say,” said the dwarf with a smile, but not a friendly one. His teeth were too large for his face. It made him look rather sinister. But I refused to be frightened of him. I had taken him by the beard, and he had to do as I said. He had to help.
    “Tell me what you know,” I commanded.
    “Of course, of course,” he said. “I know of three ways to stop death, but I am only obligated to direct you to one.”
    Three ways to stop death! This was fortunate. Even if I couldn’t find one, or it didn’t work for some reason, I could search for the others.
    “Tell me,” I said.
    “The first magic can be found in a well,” he began. “At first glance, it seems an ordinary well, except it contains not water but wine, red wine. Any who drink this wine will have their youth restored to them.”
    “That sounds lovely!” said Goldie. “Can you imagine always being young and beautiful?” Goldie sighed. I tried to ignore her and focus on what the dwarf had said.
    A well of wine. I imagined Granny drinking wine that brought back not only her strength but all her youth and beauty. She was always talking about how beautiful she used to be. Wouldn’t she love to be young and beautiful again?
    “The second magic,” said the dwarf, “can be found at an enchanted castle. Within the very center of its garden are Red Roses. Magic roses that bloom all year round. Prick your finger on a thorn, give a drop of blood to the earth, and you will never die.”
    A rose. Yes. Granny’s name was Rose Red. Red roses would suit her very well.
    “I like roses,” spouted Goldie, “but I shouldn’t like to prick my finger. Mummy told me a story of a girl who pricked her finger and she fell asleep for a hundred years!”
    “But that wasn’t a rose, was it?” I said.
    “No, it was a spindle, of course,” said Goldie.
    “Right. Thorns are different from spindles.” I turned back to the dwarf, who was tapping his pointed shoe impatiently. “And the third magic?” I asked.
    “It is called The Magic Hearts.”
    “Magic Hearts?” It sounded sappy, like something from old tales about how the best magic comes from the heart, but that wouldn’t be useful to my situation.
    The dwarf