Female dragons are enormous, truly the blue whales of the sky. (That is if blue whales had scales, wings, and breathed fire, which they certainly do not.) This massiveness meant the ascent into the heavens aboard Ruth Airways was significantly smoother than traveling via Deathgiver Scarelines. Ruth's powerful muscles contracted and relaxed as her leathery bat-like wings displaced the air with a steady beat that thrummed through Ashley's body.

Like her male counterpart, Ruth had an opalescent blue belly, which must exist to provide camouflage, so prey didn't notice the dragon swooping down from the sky until it was too late. But on her back, instead of Deathgiver's flat ebony scales that seemed to absorb light, Ruth's glowed iridescent, like black pearls with a center of liquid flame. Atop her massive head, Ruth's horn glimmered, a ruby crown more beautiful than any forged by man.

Despite the biting air, the thrill of dragon-riding at a non-frenetic pace kept Ashley's mind from processing an overload of complaints wending their way through her neural pathways. However, urgent messages from her frozen fingers, ears, and toes made it through occasionally.

But why suffer? Yeah, their reptilian transport had cold-blood, but she also had a veritable furnace in her gullet. Maybe it could be used to thaw the humans. "Hey, Ruth?"

"What's up?"

"Do you think you could blow a little flame back here? Not enough to turn us to ash, but a light warm-up would be lovely."

"Did you pay for first-class?"

"We didn't pay at all."

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to make do. Drinks, meals, and temperature control are for first-class passengers only. But seriously, flaming takes energy. And with so many of you on my back, I can't afford to use up an ounce of strength."

"That's okay, I understand," Ashley said. Since a quick warm-up wasn't an option, she decided the best use of her time would be to figure out a plan for defeating the evil magician once the dragon-riding portion of the day's events concluded. Added bonus - whenever Marveloni entered her thoughts, her temperature soared with anger.

She scanned her memories for information on "Magicians and their Hidden Weaknesses," or "How to Defeat an All-powerful Magician in Five Easy Steps," or "What Magician's Want; What Magicians Need," or any possible helpful tidbits but came up empty. She knew very little about magicians other than they were scary, magical, and tended to over-accessorize.

But as they climbed and the clouds thickened and the air thinned, Ashley's head throbbed, making it harder to concentrate/plan. Her goosebumps developed goosebumps. Her tongue swelled. The barrage of icy wind burning her cheeks seemed to push its way past her clothing, through her skin, and soak into her very bones.

Ashley imagined this was the exact sensation one might have submerged in a bathtub filled with peaks of ice-cold whipped cream. She made a mental note never to try it. That is if they made it through the next part of their quest alive. Her teeth clacked together so hard, she could no longer hear the wind, let alone her unproductive magician-eradication ideas.

Maybe if there was a handy ice-cold whipped cream bath up there, she could use it on Marveloni. Could that possibly be a strategy? It did include strategic elements—like pain and suffering. But it lacked that practical aspect (i.e., the zero chance that there was a convenient whipped cream bath located nearby) that all good plans possessed. Not to mention that if something as banal as whipped cream could defeat a magician, everyone would be doing it.

Gerald pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist, his hot breath on her neck. She sighed and snuggled into him, accepting his warmth as a gift. All thoughts of whipped cream and magicians drifted away.

"You're cold," Gerald pointed out as if she hadn't known.

"And you're not?" Ashley replied.

"Not now, I'm not," Gerald laughed, low and throaty, wrapping his legs around hers.

"I see," Ashley smirked. "Happy to help."

The last of the clouds broke, revealing the crystalline night. A gibbous moon shone in the west like a chipped gold coin, and the stars—a million pinpricks—winked, each harboring a trove of ancient mysteries.

Ashley closed her eyes, soaking in his smell, his heat, and something else. Something she couldn't name. It felt like home. Or what she imagined a home might be, since she'd never really had one. Thoughts of evil magicians and whipped cream drizzled away, until ...

... Gerald's arm muscles tensed ...

... and someone gasped.

Ashley's eyes flew open; wind rushed over her face. Something seemed wrong. Was it her imagination, or were they a collision path straight for the mountain? After some hyperventilating, she managed to choke out a few words. "Wa, wa, what's happening?"

It was as if Ruth was on autopilot and hadn't perceived the very large, substantial, snow-wrapped mountain, looming ever closer.

"Remember not to offend our transport," Gerald said.

Ashley warbled a scream, immediately realizing her mistake. Never offend your dragon.

"Settle yourself, humans," Ruth scolded. "I know what I'm doing. A vertical approach will be stealthier."

"Sorry, I trust you," Ashley wisely lied.

"You're a terrible liar," Ruth said. "But I won't practice my barrel roll right now because I am feeling benevolent. Also, don't want that cute prince dropping Junior. True to Ruth's word, a moment before they collided with anything cold, solid, and potentially death-inducing, she shifted direction. Ashley left her stomach behind as they veered upwards and flew parallel to the near-vertical rise, racing a dragon-shaped shadow cast by the moon.

Layyin screamed and laughed like a demented crow.

"At least Layyin's having fun," Gerald said.

"I fear I've created a monster," Ashley said, gripping Ruth scales and clenching her teeth. Her head swelled, not with pride but with blood. "Maybe she was better off when she had an unhealthy fear of ... of ... everything. Being fearless could end up being way unhealthier in an existential sense."

"Terrowin won't let that happen," Gerald said with manly assurance. He hardly seemed affected by the powerful forces pushing against them. So annoying. "I will not allow any harm to befall you."

"I appreciate your macho confidence," Ashley bit off, heart accelerating along with their airspeed. "No one can ... make ... promise that. Death ... doesn't ask permission." Ashley's eyes ached, and the world turned gray.

"Death wouldn't dare," Gerald growled. "Hey, what's the plan once we get to the lair? Not to rush you but taking into account our velocity and the height of the mountain, we'll likely ascend to the apex in about three minutes. And re-kidnapping a bunch of children from under the nose of an all-powerful magician won't be easy."

"Can't ... think ... straight. How are you able ...?"

"I've flown my share of insufferable unicorns. One time—"

"Almost there," Ruth interrupted, slowing enough to allow the blood in Ashley's brain to distribute more evenly. The world became less blurry and more colorful. She even managed to translate Ruth's message for the others.

"I guess I was off a little in my calculation of our arrival time," Gerald admitted.

"Too bad," Ashley said. "If I'd had those extra few minutes, I'm sure I would've come up with a brilliant scheme."

"You still have a few seconds," Gerald mentioned, obnoxiously.

The tip of the mountain loomed, thrusting into the starlit sky like the point of a sword. "Maybe Marveloni won't be there," she said, her tone laced with hope.

"Maybe, but there's that acolyte. Just saying, this might be a good time to summon up those witchy powers of yours."

"Why don't you summon yours?" Ashley retorted, stomach churning with acid.

"I never thought about it. Let me try." He cleared his throat loudly. "I call upon the magic of the earth, sky, fire, and water, to do my bidding and conjure a nice Sunday roast and a goblet of mulled wine."

Nothing happened.

"No can do."

"That was a horrible incantation. Like you weren't even trying. Magic doesn't like to be bossed around."

"How do you know?"

"It's logic. I think maybe asking nicely instead of demanding would be highly effective. You might get a more positive response. I mean, on an alchemical level."

"I was being direct. Magic likes that."

"Now I know you're lying. Have you ever met a prophecy that isn't a convoluted mess? Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you come up with the plan this time?" Ashley said.

"No problem. Hmmm. Got it. We turn around, head back to the castle, gather an army, and come back fully prepared, armed, and fed."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Not a good plan. But, do me a favor?"

"Anything," Gerald said.

"When we finally do return to the castle, never, ever, ever let me go on another quest."

"As if I would have the power to stop you."

"What do you mean?"

"You're pigheaded."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Too."

"We're here," Ruth announced. "Thank the dragon-queen! I don't think I could take another moment of your repressed sexual desires disguised as banter. Now, hold on tight. Coming in hot. Repeat, coming in hot."

Luckily, only Gerald and Ashley could speak dragon, so she wouldn't be subjected to Ruth and Derek gossiping about repressed sexual desires. Being the recipient of a long-winded "I told you so" commentary was as enjoyable as cleaning out your stepmonster's chamberpot.

They hit the ground with a spine-bending jolt, Ruth trotting along the snowy mountaintop. Not quite Deathgiver's smooth landing, but in Ruth's defense, she was twice his size and had a much more massive load. "Sorry, it's difficult to calibrate the landing in a low oxygen environment."

On the one hand, being stationary was a unique and welcome sensation. On the other, they'd arrived windblown, exhausted, light-headed, and planless.

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Beneath the riders, Ruth huffed and puffed from her exertions. With each breath, pulsing gusts of orange fire illuminated the frozen terrain, the scene alternating between a snowy wonderland and a fiery hellscape.

"Are you alright?" Ashley said.

"Give me a moment," Ruth rasped. "Is Junior okay?"

"Junior is still safe in his protective shell," Derek said, blowing out a long, icy breath. "Wish I'd had a protective shell. My dragon-riding days are over. No offense, Ruth."

"Oh, come on, Derek," Layyin said, the first to slide off Ruth. "That was way too easy. I thought there'd at least be some turbulence and a few bumps.

In reply, Ruth blew a lick of flame at Layyin's cloak with pinpoint accuracy. It wasn't an all-out inferno, like the ones Ashley had experienced when riding on Deathgiver. Clearly, Ruth was holding back.

"You're the best, Ruth," Layyin said, rolling in the snow to put out the fire then giving the dragon a big hug around the neck. Or at least part of her neck. As all princesses were super delicate and dainty, Layyin didn't have the arm-span to complete a full encircling. Perhaps this could be rectified if Layyin spent a little time on the rack back in the castle dungeon. And, added benefit—confining Layyin to the rack for a long period of time would keep her temporarily safe from her poor self-preservation instincts.

"Is she always like this?" Ruth asked.

"Yep," everyone said.

"I could toast her a bit more. Like really, really well done."

"Oooooh," Layyin said.

Ashley glided off of the dragon and pulled Layyin out of firing range. "That's a lovely offer, but we love her the way she is. Mostly."

"Awwww, thanks, Ash," Layyin said.

Ashley inspected the treeless and seemingly uninhabited terrain, hoping for a clue as to the best way to proceed. Strangely, the moonlit air atop the mountain shimmered like a dream.

Above, galaxies swirled. Below, snow blanketed the landscape, wrinkled like the veiny hand of an ancient fairy-godmother.

The world spun.

Ashley's heart shattered.

Beloved Maxine. Why hadn't Ashley thought about her at all? But before her chest could burst from the loss, the thought slipped out of her oxygen-deprived, fuzzy brain, as quickly as it appeared.

What had she been thinking about?

Oh, yes, the wrinkly snowscape.

Like standing on the back of a crone's hand.

"... Ashley?"

Ashley startled. "Huh?"

Derek shifted the egg to his left arm. Was it glowing brighter than before, or was it Ashley's imagination? "Now that we've come to this godsforsaken land of nothingness, what do we do? No sign of life anywhere." Derek waved his arms and spun in a slow circle to further his point that the landscape was blank.

Procrastination-time was officially over. Kickass Princess time engaged. Ashley straightened her aching shoulders. "Let's review the situation:

"We are in what appears to be a frozen wasteland ...

"... With plenty of snow, but no evil lair, menacing magician, menacing magician's assistant, or innocent children in captivity.

"However ... Marveloni is all-powerful and all-knowing, ergo, would have no trouble wielding magic to camouflage his lair.

"But ... if Marveloni is all-knowing, that would mean ..."

An odor, foul, fetid, and foreboding, lurked at the edge of her awareness—burnt metal with undertones of kitchen scraps left to rot in the sun.

The blood rushed from Ashley's head. She gasped.

"What's wrong?" Derek said.

"Marveloni ... he knows we're here."

Derek rolled his eyes. "That's an assumption based on a rather shaky example of inductive reasoning."

"Whatever. It's not only that. I smell a presence. Something I haven't smelled since ..."

"Since when?"

"Since the day Charming gifted me with the unicorns. In the great hall. Dark magic."

"Magic has a fragrance?"

"Marveloni's does. And it's not a nice one."

"So, how do we not end up captured or dead?"

The odor thickened, assailing Ashley's nose. She backed up toward Ruth.

"I smell it too," Ruth said.

"When will he get here already? It's taking forever," Layyin said, jogging in place to stay warm.

About twenty feet away, a human-sized tornado twisted into existence.

"What's that?" Kai pointed. "Looks like a whirlpool but with air instead of water. So weird."

"It's a tornado," Sadira said.

"Tornadoes don't just appear like that," Derek pontificated.

"Maybe we should go," Ruth suggested. "This isn't an ordinary twister."

The tornado congealed and took shape and form. Burbling noises escaped Ashley's throat; her jaw dropped. Curled up on her side, skin as white as—well, you know—snow, was the last person Ashley expected to see. "Blanche! How did you get here?" The last they'd seen Princess Blanche was way back in Chapter 28 when she said she'd stay at the castle and look into the Ever After financial records.

Blanche moaned.

"She's sick. We have to help her," Ashley said, dropping to her knees beside her friend. The other humans did the same. Ashley caressed Blanche's rosy cheek. "She feels warm. And there's a weird odor."

Derek slid the egg under his arm and held Blanche's hand in his. "It's okay, Blanche. We'll help you. Is it apple poisoning? Not that having a deadly psychological aversion to apples isn't ridiculous. I mean, come on, it was one poisoned apple. One time! One bad apple doesn't spoil the whole bunch, girl!"

"Well, Derek, your issue with flies isn't less weird," Tressa said.

Derek snarled.

"Careful with Junior," Ruth said, focused solely on her egg, inching closer to the humans as she loudly sniffed the air.

"I'm being very careful," Derek said. "You know, I think I have this parenting thing down."

"I thought you didn't like kids," Gerald said.

"I do like them when they're like this one."

"You mean sealed up inside a shiny gold protective coating?"

"Precisely. They need to figure out how to do this for human babies. No stress, no mess."

Blanche's long dark eyelashes fluttered." Quiet, she's waking up," Ashley said.

The princess of Gravenstein's eyes opened, then widened when she caught sight of Ruth. "Dr ... dr ... dragon!" she stammered.

"It's okay, dear. She's a friend," Sadira said.

"You!" Ruth spat. "Move away from her so I can fry her good."

"No!" Ashley stood, blocking the firing path from Ruth to Blanche. "She's our friend."

"She's no friend," Ruth insisted.

Blanche leaped up, grabbed the egg out of Derek's arms, and reeled away. "Get back. All of you."

"Blanche, what's going on?" Ashley said.

"Maybe it's a head injury," Sadira said.

"Give me my egg," Ruth thundered.

"Oh, hush, all of you. Or I drop the egg." Everyone froze. Blanche cleared her throat as if readying herself for a prepared speech. "So nice of you all to drop in! Daddy and I have been waiting. And you've brought us a dragon and an egg. So thoughtful! We were running out of dragon blood. Daddy gets so angry when he runs out."

Ashley couldn't locate her vocal cords. Gerald looked at her sideways and stepped in. "Daddy?'"

"My dad, The Marvelous Marveloni, all-knowing, all-powerful, blah blah."

What is it with egotistical males and their overlong monikers? Is it a compensation thing, like with the swords? "Blanche? Tell us what's going on," Ashley said.

"Wait a second," Kai said. "Your dad is the magician? I thought your only parent was the evil stepmother who tried to kill you with that poisoned apple. I'm confused."

"You're so silly. I'm not Blanche," The Blanche-shaped woman drew Blanche's magical mirror from thin air and laughed. "Sorry," she said. She snapped her fingers and, voila, Blanche turned into Scarletta—Ashley's wicked lady-in-waiting who had gone missing not long after that day in the banquet hall when the redheaded femme fatale had flirted with Prince Charming.

So much had changed since then. Ashley would gladly hand over Charming. The two of them deserved one another. "Scarletta?"

"Oops! Wrong again. I'll get better at my shapeshifting. Someday!" Another snap.

"Are you kidding me?" Ashley said, her blood turning to ice. Standing before her was no apple-fearing princess. Nor a traitorous lady-in-waiting.

"Not kidding at all. Glad you and your friends could drop in for a quick extermination ... sis."

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