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To the quiet girls with stories in their heads. To their dreams—and their nightmares.
Eleven years later, and I don’t fear him at all. Even if I should.
My magic moves, he said. My magic bites. My magic soothes. My magic frights. You are young and not so bold. I am unflinching—five hundred years old.
“There once was a girl,” he murmured, “clever and good, who tarried in shadow in the depths of the wood. There also was a King—a shepherd by his crook, who reigned over magic and wrote the old book. The two were together, so the two were the same: “The girl, the King… and the monster they became.”
The Shepherd King had made seventy-eight Providence Cards in descending order. There were twelve Black Horses, held exclusively by the King’s elite guard—the Destriers. Eleven Golden Eggs. Ten Prophets. Nine White Eagles. Eight Maidens. Seven Chalices. Six Wells. Five Iron Gates. Four Scythes. Three Mirrors. Two Nightmares. And one Twin Alders.
Be wary the man who bargains and thieves. He’ll offer your soul to get what he needs.
Says the girl who talks to the monster in her head. Not exactly Princess material, are we, my dear?
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The Black Horse made its beholder a master of combat. The Golden Egg granted great wealth.
The Twin Alders had the power to commune with Blunder’s ancient entity, the Spirit of the Wood.
