It was a day and a half before they caught up to Swift, who was cantering along ahead of them with a blissful bob of his tail, which billowed in the gentle breeze.

“Swift,” said Prince Albert out of breath, “Swift there you are, my friend.” Hearing its master’s voice, the stallion rose on its hind legs to turn and neighed an exuberant greeting. Jasmine, who was holding the prince upright, felt dwarfed staring up at Swift. It had been a long time since she’d seen such a fine stallion and even longer since one reared in front of her. She smiled up at Swift and the stallion kicked the air excitedly before dropping back down to a proper stand. A cloud of dust from Swift’s landing tumbled over Jasmine and the prince’s boots.

“Hello Swift,” Jasmine said, grabbing at the reins, “Your prince could use your back right about now.” Prince Albert smiled at his stallion in a manner that suggested he might be asking for a favor. Swift bowed its head, letting Jasmine take his reins, gold rimmed and shining in the patches of sunlight that trickled through the canopy in clusters. It wasn’t long before they all were on their way again, heading to Castle Albreton with Prince Albert atop Swift, holding its mane and Jasmine just ahead, leading the horse by its reins down the path. The prince’s fedora was askew on his sweaty head, the feather seeming to be the most well-groomed thing about him. Jasmine, on the other hand, was hiking the path happily wondering why she had ever settled for an ordinary life in her ordinary world back home.

She spoke her mind, addressing both the prince and Swift, “Honestly I don’t know why I even considered not coming with you; this place is fantastic! The trees smell so fresh and alive and the grass here is so many different colors. I mean back home I never even thought red grass was possible, but here you have blue and bright pink and even purple too. I’ve always liked purple, one of my favorite colors. And the flowers here I don’t even know half the names of and oh, the morning dew smells like it came from Heaven!”

The prince let her ramble on, a smile sneaking onto his face, tired though he was. Swift moved to the side once to catch him when he was about to fall, still dizzy from the wound in his shoulder.

“And this Fragmawhatshisname person seems like a real amazing guy,” Jasmine continued, “I mean travelling by ink? Who comes up with something like that? Must be a great wizard to think of something like that; but wait, are all wizards as clever as him or is he smarter than all of them, like a genius or something? I mean, who else could jump from my world to yours so easily?”

Prince Albert took in air to speak but whatever he was going to say was swept away by Jasmine who would not stop talking.

“I never thought this place would feel so wonderful, Prince Albert,” She was saying, “I never thought the sun would shine so brightly and the stars would be so vivid. And look there! Mushrooms, aren’t they?” Jasmine pointed to a tiny conglomeration of gray and brown and pale yellow beneath a red barked tree on the side of the path.

The prince nodded. They were mushrooms, mushrooms shaped like roses and daffodils. No matter how they looked, though, they were still mushrooms in their mushy texture, and also, Prince Albert informed Jasmine, in their taste.

“You’ve eaten them?” Jasmine craned her neck to ask.

“Oh yes,” the prince informed, “They are a delicacy in the villages surrounding the castle, quite tasty.” He found himself incapable of dropping a smile from then on, and he and Jasmine shared stories of foods from both worlds until they reached a fork in the path that abruptly stopped their laughter. One way lead towards what sounded like a waterfall or a river and the other lead somewhere that felt to Jasmine like it must be haunted, a whisper churning the leaves above and chilling the wind from that direction.

Jasmine cleared her throat, “So which way is it to Castle Albreton? It was Albreton, right?” She couldn’t shake the sense that someone was listening in on them but for the life of her she couldn’t think of who.

The prince had to shake his daze away before he answered her. “Yes, it is Albreton,” he said, “The name of my family, the royal family, is Albreton. So it would stand to reason that our castle is also named as such.” He lost his train of thought and took a few moments to sort through his head. Jasmine was just about to ask if the prince was okay when he patted Swift on the neck and dismounted from the stallion’s back. Prince Albert stretched as he finished his answer, “The way to Castle Albreton is to the right, if I would guess.”

Swift nibbled on the bright orange grass poking out from under a boulder nearby.

“If you would guess? So you don’t actually know?” Jasmine looked at the prince concerned.

“It has been long since I’ve travelled this road.”

“Well I say we take the less creepy path if you aren’t one hundred percent sure,” Jasmine said and pointed to the left where the water was running. Jasmine had often been spooked by ghost stories as a child and she didn’t want to be subjected to any hauntings, especially with the prince injured.

The prince winced at the leftward path, “I would implore you against going that way.” He straightened his fedora, suddenly aware of how lopsided it was.

Jasmine didn’t know what was wrong with him. On the left there was color and running water and as far as she could tell, nothing amiss. The trees stood like soldiers all in a row beside the well-paved path, glorious and bright. She could hear birds chirping and small animals rustling about in the underbrush. The right, on the other hand, looked like it had been transposed from a black and white horror film.

“But there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the left one,” she pointed out.

“Princess Salin-”

“That’s Jasmine, thanks.”

“I’m sorry,” Prince Albert continued avoiding eye contact, “Jasmine, I’m sorry. I’m not used to your new name yet.”

Jasmine corrected him, “It isn’t new. I’ve had it since birth.”

Suddenly the prince looked so tired. He leaned on the boulder near Swift, squashing the orange grass with his boot. He removed his fedora with a sigh. Jasmine couldn’t bring herself to speak, seeing him with such a remorseful expression.

“There are stranger things than nymphs here, in these woods,” Prince Albert said, “And far more dangerous at that. Illusionists and faefolk, wilderbecks and trimbians… It is not safe to trust first judgments and often the easiest-looking path is the most deadly.”

Jasmine swallowed.

The prince continued, “If we are to travel through to the kingdom safely, we must be in agreement on which path to take.” Swift made a sound of compliance, finishing off the strand of orange grass in his mouth. Prince Albert took Swift’s reins and mounted and Jasmine saw him for what he was, a noble prince on a white stallion, questing after love, the iconic image of so many fairytales.

She couldn’t possibly say no to that. They took the rightward path.

Soon after entering there was a chilling wind that blew all the color away. The trees turned gray and the path became black stones piled on top of each other that spread like beetles under Swift’s hooves. Jasmine plugged her nose to block the smell. It was like rotten eggs mixed with dill.

“Prince Albert, where did the color go?” Jasmine asked, though it sounded more like, “Brince Alberd, where did the golor go?” She turned to see him squinting at the gray scale surroundings perplexed. Swift stomped a hoof.

“I don’t know,” said the prince, cringing at the smell. A whistling sound came from somewhere, though it was unclear from what direction. It was high pitched and distant. Prince Albert’s fedora turned gray. All that was left was their skin and hair, as Jasmine looked at herself her outfit had faded to gray too. Swift, being pure white, remained the same, as did the prince’s white feather pen that still flitted out of his now colorless fedora. The subtle breeze ceased entirely, leaving behind it an uncomfortable silence.

“How do we get out of here?” Jasmine asked, desperate. She looked back the way they came but it was overgrown, as though the path had never gone that way.

“Nn, shh.” Prince Albert raised a finger to his lips, his eyes scanning this way and that. Jasmine hushed. Everything stopped moving, everything but Prince Albert, Swift, and Jasmine. After what seemed like forever Jasmine opened her mouth to ask Prince Albert if he heard anything, but her mouth jammed closed and no matter how hard Jasmine tried she couldn’t open it. The prince was too preoccupied to notice so Jasmine groaned angrily at him. Swift nudged its rider.

“What is it?” The prince asked with a tone that suggested he had better things to do right now than listen to whatever Jasmine’s problem was.

Jasmine pointed to the corners of her mouth and moaned and groaned and grumbled and made a whining noise. Prince Albert gave her a look.

“What is it?” He repeated. Jasmine nearly slapped him. Thankfully, Swift was quick to give the prince a slight buck; then he understood. “Oh,” he said embarrassed, “You can’t speak.”

Jasmine crossed her arms and gave him the most annoyed look, the kind only a teenage girl can pull off without looking constipated.

“And if she can’t speak, she can’t screech,” a voice came from all around them. Prince Albert was instantly on guard; Jasmine couldn’t pinpoint when he had drawn his sword. Swift was ready to rear. The voice continued, scratchy and old, “Such an old defense against the nymphs, screeching. Where did you learn such a thing?”

Jasmine felt obliged to answer. “I never learned it any… oh,” she stretched out her face, only realizing she could open her mouth again midsentence. “Why would I tell you?” She said, “You sewed my mouth closed. What, you only want people to talk when it’s convenien-” Jasmine’s mouth smacked closed again. She groaned, exasperated.

Swift’s right ear twitched once, then faced forward, then swiveled to the side again. Prince Albert saw something in that direction through his peripheral vision. A shadow or a disturbance in the air, something was stalking back and forth to their right. He gripped his sword tighter.

“Show yourself, coward!” The prince yelled, “You face Prince Albert of Castle Albreton that lies in the fields to the southeast. By your honor, show yourself!”

The old crackling voice let out a cackle. “Cowards live longer than the honorable,” it said. Swift padded the ground with its front right hoof. Whatever shadow was moving back and forth in the corner of Prince Albert’s eye vanished. An eerie silence hovered about. Jasmine swallowed.

Then, “Give Fragmaroginog my utmost blessing.”

A black eyed white cat scuttled in their path, took one moment to stop and twitch its tail at Swift, and ran off. The world’s color chased after it, a flourish of reds and oranges and greens and deep purples moving behind it like the tides rushing over a beach. Jasmine watched in awe as the color seeped up the trees and into the sky and in only two minute’s time, the forest had returned to its glorious, vibrant nature. The shuffling animals moved about the underbrush and birds flew above, singing in languages Jasmine hadn’t ever heard before. Prince Albert sheathed his sword and let out a sigh and rubbed his shoulder. His and Jasmine’s clothing was back to normal too.

“Shoulder still bothering you?” Jasmine asked, and upon realizing she could speak added, “If I ever get ahold of whoever did that mouth thing to me I’ll!” But then she couldn’t think of anything threatening to say and added dumbly, “I dunno, I’ll kick their ass or something.”

“I’m fine,” Prince Albert said unconvincingly, “And that encounter means we’re getting close to the kingdom.”

“Well then good sir,” Jasmine copied Prince Albert’s oh-so-proper way of speaking, “Let us make haste!” Really she was starting to freak over this whole ambush thing. She wondered how often the prince got attacked in his daily life. He seemed to be used to this sort of thing.

“Let’s,” agreed the prince. Then he grunted, rubbed his shoulder and took the reins, telling Swift, “Forward!” Swift danced for a moment then cantered away with Jasmine jogging beside. Somewhere deep in his mind Prince Albert hoped seeing the castle would restore the memories of his lost love. He glanced at Jasmine only when he knew she wasn’t looking and as he thought of his Princess Salina the feather in his fedora twitched to one side.