At the side of the courtyard, there was a wooden cage about as tall as a man and half again. It was broad enough to fit two or three people side-by-side. The cage had a long, heavy rope secured to the top, and the rope disappeared upward, seeming to be attached to something high above.

Auron walked toward it and opened a gate in the side, gesturing me in.

“What’s this?” I said, reluctantly. It reminded me of the manually-operated elevators the Hunter Clans used to facilitate access to the highest trees in the village, and to bring in supplies, though this one looked a great deal less reliable than those ones had.

“Get in,” said Auron. “This will take us up to the inhabited levels of the castle.”

Still feeling a bit unsure, I did as he requested, and Auron followed me in, closing the gate behind him. The floor of the cage was made from some kind of thickly pleated rope wound round a wooden frame. It sagged a little as it took my weight.

Auron reached out of the cage and pulled on a lever that stuck out of the wall. Almost immediately, the cage began to ascend, lurching a little at first then becoming smoother. The floor of the courtyard dropped away as we climbed higher and higher up the smooth gray side of the mountain.

“When the castle was first founded, a long time ago now, the bodies of the royal dead were taken down the mountain in this carriage,” Auron explained quietly. “They were deposited with honor in the crypts, which were cut out of the natural cave system far below. Back then, times were warlike and dangerous, and the first kings desired that their bodies be hidden away from the ravages of potential enemies.”

“But I’m guessing that’s no longer the case?” I asked.

“That’s right. It’s been a long time since the Kingdom has been at open war, and now a new entrance has been opened to the crypts. The dead of today are brought round that way, with great honor. It’s easier, and there’s less need for deception.”

“So the Kingdom has no enemies anymore? Don’t forget that all this is new to me. If I’m to be the Prince, I’ll have to learn fast.”

“You will, but don’t worry too much about it. We will say to almost everybody that you have been in a coma, and that has left you with few memories. People will believe that, and you will be able to ask many questions without raising suspicions. That will also explain the obvious change in your personality…”

“My personality? Why, what was the Prince like?”

Auron had opened his mouth to answer my question, but at just that moment the elevator bumped to a halt and swung in through an opening in the side of the mountain. It sat still and Auron reached past me to unlatch the gate.

I stepped out, and Auron followed me.

We were in a hallway, the walls and floor made of huge, tightly set rectangular stones. The woolen rug that ran the length of the hallway was dyed in a myriad of colors and fashioned with enough shapes to make my head spin. I had seen a few structures made of stone during my former life, but none made with such large stones or done up with such ornate finishings. All those buildings of stone that had existed in my homeland were ruins of a lost civilization, one that didn’t seem to share the same ostentatious taste of the Outland kingdom.

“This is a rarely-visited part of the castle,” Auron said. “But we will travel immediately to the King, and we will pass many people once we get to more populated regions. I would prefer for King Boris to be the first one to see that the prince has returned. Pull up your hood and put your crown in here.” Aurus pulled on his robe to reveal a small pocket.

“That pocket looks far too small to fit my crown,” I said doubtfully I removed my silver circlet and pulled my hood over my head so that most of my face was obscured.

Auron smiled. “It is amusing to have you here. You know nothing of our kingdom’s magic. Place the crown in my robe pocket.”

The Magic of the Kingdom? What relevance did that have to Auron’s pocket?

I shrugged and did as he asked, reaching over and slipping the crown into his pocket. To my surprise, it somehow managed to fit.

“How…?” I began.

“Perhaps a clearer example,” Auron said. “Watch.”

With the flair of a conjurer, he reached into his pocket. Then he kept reaching, further and further, until his entire arm up to his shoulder had disappeared. I couldn’t see his arm bulging on the other side of the pocket. It was as if it had simply ceased to exist from the shoulder down. He grinned as he drew his arm back. When he finished bringing his arm out of his magic pocket, he was holding a rolled up rug.

“That’s pretty impressive,” I said. “But we Hunters have magic, too. If you can find me a few ingredients, I can show you how to mix a poison that will disable even a mutated wolf.”

“I am very much interested in learning more about your magic,” Auron said, laying his rolled up rug on the floor, “but there will be time for that, and I don’t want to exert you. Also, it’s important that you don’t display your Hunter’s magic to others, at least not yet. You must remember that you are the Prince, and the Prince would not be expected to have the ability to brew potions.”

I thought for a moment before replying. “That’s fair. Anyway, aren’t we going to see the King? What’s with the rug?”

Auron smiled and nodded, his white beard wagging at me. “You have already traveled a great way from the caves beneath the castle, and your body is not used to walking, so I thought you could use a break.”

From his magic pocket, Auron produced the wand he had used to merge my soul with the prince’s body and tapped the side of the rug. It bounced and then unfurled.

“Unfurling a rug,” I said wryly. “Who knew Royal Magic could be so useful?”

“You’re making me reconsider not slapping you,” Auron growled. “Sit on the rug.”

“The Crown Prince becomes the Magus’ domestic animal,” I muttered under my breath as I eased myself into a sitting position on the rug. My knees protested as I folded them under myself and placed my new staff lengthways on my right.

Auron came to sit beside me. “Shuffle over,” he said. “We don’t want to fall off the flying carpet now, do we?”

“Flying carpet? What the…”

Before I could finish, Auron tapped the rug again, and it suddenly lifted a few feet into the air and started to fly down the hallway.

“Woah!” I cried out, wobbling a little.

“Don’t worry, it won’t drop you. This is powerful magic, and incredibly useful. The castle is very large, and having the ability to ride around at speed is endlessly useful.”

I had once rode a trained wolf, and while that had been a bumpier ride, this one was certainly faster. We whizzed through the castle halls, turning corners and zooming up and down flights of stairs, until, after a while, we reached the more populated parts of the castle, as Auron had said we would.

Here, we began passing attendants in simple gray robes, soldiers in black, boiled leather armor, and mages in robes dyed in a wide variety of bright and intense colors. Most of those we passed didn’t give us more than a backward glance - apparently the sight of two people flying about the castle on a carpet was not something to remark upon. I was about to remark on this when Auron spoke, almost as if he had anticipated my question.

“I have cast a minor glamor on us,” he said, “and that’s why the people don’t notice us. It’s not a very powerful spell, and it doesn’t work for long, but since we’re moving fast, it doesn’t need to.”

That sounded at least as useful as flying carpets and magic pockets. Perhaps this Kingdom magic was going to turn out to be more impressive than I’d thought.

We’d been flying for about ten minutes when the carpet began to slow down. We had flown up a broad flight of stairs, and now we were approaching a large set of wooden double doors, carved with an elaborate and brightly-painted coat of arms. The doorway was flanked by soldiers with heavy black leather armor over chainmail. These were older men, looking like elite veterans. They were armed with long pikes and had shortswords at their belts. Next to each soldier stood a hooded man in mage robes. Both soldiers and mages had a smaller, simpler version of the coat of arms emblazoned on their clothing.

The flying carpet pulled up in front of the guards, and Auron spoke a quiet word. There was a slight shimmering around us. I guessed this was Auron dispersing the glamor, because all the guards and door mages turned immediately toward us, looking surprised. Some of the guards lowered their pikes toward us, and the oldest, who looked like he was in charge, stepped forward to challenge us. He was a burly fellow with a bright orange mustache that dangled below his chin, and he did not look friendly.

“What’s this?” he said suspiciously. “Who are you? How do you come to be here?”

“It is I, Magus Auron,” said Auron, sitting up straight and looking the guard in the eye. “I must see the King at once.”

“Auron,” the leader of the soldiers almost spat. “What are you doing back here? The King told you never to return. You’re exiled, under pain of death!”

“Not anymore,” said Auron. “I have completed my mission and returned with…”

“Get out of here. Don’t let me tell you twice. If I present you to the King, he’ll have me flogged most likely, and have you killed. Get out of here. I give you ten seconds before I cut your head off.”

“Looks like the King won’t be the first to find out,” Auron whispered to me. “Sit up and pull back your hood.”

I saw the logic in this. The officious guardsman would not allow Auron in on his own word, but if he saw Prince Cassian… I sat up and threw back my hood, giving the guard my best imperious glare.

The soldiers and mages all gasped in unison. One soldier even dropped his spear, letting it clatter to the floor.

“Surprise!” I said with a grin. “Prince Cassian has returned from the dead!”

“Coma,” Auron muttered. “You were in a coma.”

I shrugged. “I have returned! Now, where’s my father? I’ve missed him terribly while I’ve been in my. . . uh. . . coma.”

“What sorcery is this?” a female mage asked. She had her hand raised to her hip, her fingers inching closer to the wand at her belt.

“The sorcery that requires more skill than any of you sycophants possess. And to think you call yourselves mages,” Auron said harshly. “I have awoken the Crown Prince from his slumber, and that is all you lackeys need to know. What does it matter the methods I used for it?”

I was wondering why these soldiers and mages seemed to despise the Magus so much. The guard had said that Auron was exiled under pain of death. What could he have done? My suspicion was that the mage had used some forbidden form of magic to try to ‘bring back’ the prince, and I remembered that when I’d first appeared in the cave, I’d accused Auron of necromancy, and he’d seemed offended. Perhaps that was the answer?

“All right, all right,” said the mustached soldier. “That’s enough of your chatter. The jealousy between you mages is ridiculous. The King will want to see this for himself, and it’s not for us to hold you back.”

“Open the doors,” the female mage commanded the others behind her, and they hurried to obey her instructions.

The huge doors opened outward, and the guards stepped aside, looking with respect at me, but with suspicion at Auron. Seated atop the carpet, Auron and I flew through the now open doorway.