Jasmine and the white cat marched the icy mountains like two beings on a mission. And it was true, Jasmine was on a mission. She was on a mission to tell Prince Albert the truth, on a mission to free the dragon and Enkaiein, on a mission to save three kingdoms, all at once. The white cat padded along beside her and at their front the color seeped away as if their mere presence was cause for it to flee. Jasmine knew why now. Now, everything was clear.

She had discarded her blue dress when the witch had found her, thrown it into the egg white water so it could return to Albreton, so it could manifest on the shore of the mote and Mythos could lock it away. What replaced that dress was a gift from the witch who had descended from the charcoal colored cloud in wisps of black that sewed into each other as they constructed her form: a woman with pale skin and protruding black veins whose dark hair was curled in an up-do. Bright gray eyes popped out of her heavily applied eye shadow and her long nails were as black as could be, much like the charcoal mist that settled into the shape of what Jasmine thought looked like a gothic Victorian corset dress, snug around the witch’s torso and loose as it slung over her hips. Without wasting any time to let Jasmine react to her entrance, the witch had told Jasmine everything before tossing her a new, dry outfit that, like the Victorian dress, had constructed itself out of the looming black cloud from above.

Jasmine now wore a monochrome tunic held in place by a black belt around her waist atop gray pants that slipped under her new white boots seamlessly. The only color left was in her skin, hair and eyes as she and the cat made their way over shimmering ice-water and sediments of glittering stone that were pounded deep into the translucent mountainsides. As a result of the color-stealing spell, the sediments were stripped of their luster as soon as Jasmine and the cat got close enough to appreciate them. The air was cold and dry, but the ground was always partially melted. It was as if Jasmine and the cat were walking over a frozen river that had just begun to thaw.

Its beady, black eyes focused straight ahead, the cat said, “You do realize the rashness of your actions. This might make the Singers happy but you may not survive. Why don’t you take the wiser way out and run? Flee to your own world and leave this one to rot.”

“I’m not a coward,” Jasmine replied and hopped over an icicled obstruction in her path. Before she met the witch, she might have slipped and fallen, but not now. Now she had no time for clumsiness.

“Cowards live longest,” the cat reminded her in a purr.

“Says you.”

The sun was setting. Jagged light bent in all directions up ahead, scattering through the ice in prisms of vibrancy that reminded Jasmine of a middle school science project she once had to do by herself because her partner didn’t show up for the presentation. No more snide remarks came from the cat and Jasmine was glad for it. She had spent four days with the thing already and she didn’t know what she would do if its company was forced on her for much longer. But it was the only one who knew where the dragon lived, which meant it was Jasmine’s only hope of saving everyone and stopping Fragmaroginog’s ploy.

She wondered when she had become so noble. Maybe the prince was rubbing off on her. She smirked at the thought, earning her a yawn from her feline companion. A break in the iced-over path protruded up ahead as their presence chased the colorful beams of sunset away, catching the sides of the icy mountains in a dreary mix of grays.

“Which way?” Jasmine asked.

The cat pounced ahead of her, leading her along the rightward path. Jasmine listened to the ice crunch beneath her boots, felt the loose sediment cling to the bottom of her soles but kept on walking, brisk as ever, resolved to fix this whole predicament.

She was going to be a hero. “Heroine,” she corrected herself, out loud. Undertow the ice broke and she let out a gasp as she scrambled to the nearest ice sheet, hoping it would be thicker. It was.

“Careful,” said the cat in a tone that suggested it might have been more amused if Jasmine had fallen completely through the ice and gotten soaked all over again.

“Can it,” Jasmine retorted. She wiped off her damp thighs and continued onward. The ice was cracking more frequently now, melting at a far more rapid rate. She hoped that meant the dragon’s lair was close by. She didn’t know exactly how far she had travelled with the cat through these icy mountains, but her aches had begun to reach the core of her bones. With every stride, something cracked in protest. It was agitating her. The cat pointedly ignored her pained grunting and sauntered ahead.

After the witch had given Jasmine the new outfit, which Jasmine had been very thankful for because the white water surrounding the dirt island had clung to her blue dress no matter how thoroughly she wrung it out, she had summoned the cat, who had appeared in a white puff of smoke after the witch and the crows sung an earsplitting note. The cat proclaimed itself the witch’s familiar, whatever that meant. Jasmine hadn’t liked the thing from the beginning, but there was no getting out of its company. The witch had explained that the cat could be Jasmine’s only guide, as the witch herself had been banished from that end of the mountains some time ago, by none other than Fragmaroginog himself. Jasmine scoffed as she remembered she hadn’t liked Fragmaroginog that much to begin with either. Now she knew why she had gotten that sickly feeling in her gut when the toad first jumped out of the mote to greet her and Prince Albert. He was evil, evil as they come.

“Quickly,” nagged the cat.

Jasmine responded with a gravelly noise from deep in her throat. The next step she took made her back foot slide a little and she had to spasm to keep herself upright. In spite of all that determination and drive, she was worn. She would have to rest soon.

“The ice melts completely up ahead,” said the cat, “Hope you can swim.”

Jasmine didn’t grace the cat with a response. She plodded along, matching her breathing with her strides. It helped marginally. Where the ice was melted, the sediments that had been caught in it poked out of the water and stuck to her boots like those fuzzy round weeds she used to find sticking to her jeans after a hike back in her world.

The cat stopped, settled itself atop a crystalline structure that was growing out of the ice wall and curved its tail, waiting for Jasmine. In a rare bout of kindness, it told her, “Only a little farther. You should get some sleep before we enter Reshauwenath. The elixir is fading. I can smell it seeping off of you.”

Jasmine gulped down the knot forming in her throat and nodded, out of breath. The elixir had been another gift from the witch, sealed in a bottle nestled into a drawstring pouch that Jasmine now kept looped around her belt. The witch had told her it would help her stamina, but to only drink one sip per day, as needed. It tasted like crushed berries and smelled like rotting fish. It didn’t have a color, far as Jasmine knew, because by then the color-stealing spell had already taken its effect, but it was bright like the grasses outside Castle Albreton. Bubbles had condensed on the liquid’s surface when Jasmine took a tentative sip for the first time, but it hadn’t tasted of carbonation. After Jasmine had taken that first sip, heat had seared through her body and so she felt feverish and weak for a moment, but a few seconds afterward she felt like she could conquer anything. She remembered looking at her hands, closing and opening them in disbelief and asking what the witch’s motivation was for helping her.

“Anything to get back at Fragmaroginog,” the witch had said with a smirk. Then, she had vanished back into her cloud, leaving Jasmine and the cat at the edge of the icy mountains to begin their journey.

That was four days ago. Jasmine hadn’t taken a break yet, not even during the nights when the sun receded and the moon let its light crack between the crystals that were embedded deep in the mountains’ clear walls. She hadn’t even felt hungry in all that time. The cat hadn’t needed to stop, so Jasmine had decided she wasn’t going to either, but now it was all catching up to her. She was starting to feel nauseous, dizzy and fatigued.

She nearly drowned on her way over the last block of ice. When she hopped over a clearer section of it, the weight of her landing cracked straight through to frigid water underneath. With a quick inhale and even quicker thinking, she swam freestyle to the edge of the water on the other side and sprawled out on her stomach to catch her breath. Shivering, she flopped herself over and rubbed the blurriness out of her vision. The cat had its face pressed against her nose. Jasmine glared at it.

“What?” She demanded, her vocal chords acrid and sore.

“Welcome to Reshauwenath,” it said.

Jasmine squinted at it, unamused.

“Get some sleep. The elixir will keep you from hypothermia for now. When you wake, take another sip.”

Jasmine complied only because she was too tired to argue with that stupid, obnoxious, self-righteous, know-it-all cat. Besides, she was pretty comfortable, all things considered. Never mind the fact that her journey through the icy mountains had been an adrenaline-rushed, mind-numbing trek that left her feeling clammy and drained. Here, the ground was soft and warm, even if it smelled mildewed and earthen. The last bits of ice floated atop the water a good twenty-five yards away; the icy mountains jagged and limpid as they rose behind the water to refract the last sliver of sunlight, which would have glimmered orange if not for the color-stealing spell. Jasmine imagined the light as she had seen it from the white-furnished room in Castle Albreton, gleaming crimson, as though the icy mountains were ablaze.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but when she awoke she was stiff and her hip had gone numb. The sun was high in the sky and the cat sat with its tail curled, grooming itself with its left front paw. When she untwisted herself, her stomach lurched and Jasmine had to clench her eyes shut and will the queasiness away.

Jasmine felt disgusting. She didn’t know how long she had slept, but she had done so in clothing steeped with four days’ worth of sweat. There was a rotten taste under her tongue and her mind felt foggy and disorganized.

“How long was I asleep?” She asked the cat, licking her teeth and thinking of what she wouldn’t give for a shower and toothbrush to magically appear in front of her right now.

“Drink your elixir.”

She did. A shiver seared through her core. Then she felt physically better, but still hygienically gross. She pressed the cap back onto the bottle, sealing the rest of the elixir inside. Then she tied it back onto her belt and stood.

“About a day and a half,” the cat answered.

Jasmine, forgetting she had asked the question, said, “Huh?”

“You’ve been asleep for a day and a half.”

“Oh.”

“The dragon isn’t far.” The cat stretched, squished between Jasmine’s legs to realign its fur, and then walked ahead, leading the way to the tallest group of trees Jasmine had ever seen in her life. She wondered how they stayed upright, skinny as they were, only five inches around at best, but so lofty she couldn’t see the canopy no matter how far back she craned her neck. She wished she could see what color they were. They smelled sweet, like honey and sugar. Their bark was smooth and dry. It was a nice change from the previous landscape. The icy mountains were breathtaking from afar but the path through them had been treacherous and uneven. Jasmine was glad for the change.

“So,” Jasmine said, “You’re an animal. How would you befriend a dragon?” She followed the cat as it zigzagged its way between the trees. Jasmine, being much bigger, lost sight of the cat countless times, but it would always meander back to make sure she was still going in the right direction. The forest got denser as they went and the scent of honey shifted to that of molasses and sap. Jasmine heard no birds, no Singers, as she and the cat squeezed between the trees. At least the ground was compact and sturdy, so Jasmine didn’t have to worry much about her footing.

“I wouldn’t,” said the cat. It rubbed against a cluster of trees and then came back around to make sure Jasmine was still following.

It was that kind of little motions, motions that inferred Jasmine would become hopelessly lost if the cat didn’t check on her every five seconds, which bothered her the most. That and its annoyingly blunt answers. The cat was a worse conversationalist than Prince Albert’s father. Remarking as her mind wandered, Jasmine changed the subject, “I wonder how the prince is doing.”

The cat humored her, “Which prince?”

Crouching under a low branch while simultaneously overstepping a log, Jasmine said, “Prince Albert, from Albreton. The last time I saw him, he told me he was riding off to battle with his father, but he didn’t tell me anything besides that. I’m just wondering if he’s okay.”

“You’re an idiot.”

If Jasmine hadn’t been sandwiched between two trees, she would’ve kicked the stupid thing. She instead twitched her eye and held her tongue.

“If he really did go off to battle, then you should do yourself a favor and assume him dead. It’ll save you plenty of grief.” The cat yawned before it continued, as if to emphasize its words, and then spoke in an irritatingly nonchalant vernacular. “Focus on your mission. You don’t have time to worry about anyone else. Distractions get people killed, especially around dragons.”

“Oh yeah, and what would you care if I died?” Jasmine barked back without thinking.

“I wouldn’t,” said the cat, unfazed by Jasmine’s comment, “but my master would. She likes you.”

For the first time in a long time, Jasmine was speechless. Silenced, she hiked onward, crunching fallen diamond-shaped leaves with the flat heels of her boots. The snap of twigs and crinkle of vegetation against her feet was soothing, for the forest made no other sound. Back in the icy mountains, it had been noisy. Sometimes, the ice walls would splinter with a pop, or aquatic things would swish in the water and scuttle up the sides of the mountains, grabbing the crystalline protrusions for balance. The animals there had kept out of sight, but Jasmine had still heard them, still known they were there.

Here, there was nothing. She didn’t hear birds, didn’t see anything poke its head cautiously out of any hollows in the trees. If there were bugs, they didn’t tick or call for mates. Jasmine and the cat were making the only sounds around. It was eerie, foreboding. She didn’t want to ask the cat about it because she didn’t want to know the real answer. But deep down, she did know. She knew the reason no animals dared live there. She knew it was because the dragon’s lair was close by, and she wondered what kind of things it ate. Jasmine hoped human wasn’t a delicacy, but truthfully she knew nothing about dragons except whatever was written in fantasy novels back home. She doubted those were accurate.

A clearing revealed itself up ahead, and Jasmine and the cat passed through the last bit of trees. As they entered the open space, a roar like nothing Jasmine had ever heard splintered from the sky. Clasping her ears, Jasmine dropped to her knees and gazed up.

Far above, higher than the treetops, a silhouette eclipsed the sun. Its wings spread so far they filled Jasmine’s peripheral vision and its body was bulky, but not quite as big as Jasmine had imagined it would be. Its tail hung, dipping over the clearing like a fishhook and Jasmine assumed it had tucked in its legs, because she couldn’t make them out in the vastness of its shadow. Its neck was at least half as long as its tail and if she squinted hard enough, Jasmine could make out gently curved horns on its head.

In her awe, Jasmine fumbled backwards and had to catch herself with her hands. Just as she removed her palms from her ringing ears, the dragon elongated its neck and roared again. It was a screech and a bellow and a nasal fricative all at once; it cut through the air and Jasmine’s spirit like a machete might cut through butter.

But there was no turning back now. The cat retreated into the trees and Jasmine inhaled long and deep, readying herself the best she could.

The dragon folded its wings and dropped towards the clearing.