It had been an uncomfortable evening for Francis. There was little he could say in response to Rita's efforts at conversation without lying to her, and so much said by Sir Fred to fill the ensuing uneasy silences. That she seemed frustrated by his vacant stares and distracted thoughts both pained and pleased him. It was for her own good, he reminded himself, shuffling his thoughts so she couldn't read them. But now that night had fallen on the fortress, he focused sharply again on the important task in front of him, and the creak of barrow wheels behind him on the steps leading down to Rupret's lair.

He turned to see where Danny was, or rather where the wheelbarrow was, because Danny was wearing his cloak. Danny stopped humming to say, "Don't worry about me. Watch your step." He was unusually chipper, all things considered, but Francis guessed holding hands with Ginger under the table at dinner may have had something to do with it.

They weren't half down the stairs when sounds of shifting sand and grit meant they had Rupret's attention. The dragon stretched his neck up to greet them and inhaled so deeply that the barrow's cover flew off and clung to the side of one of his nostrils.

"Where's the chicken?" Rupret asked

"You didn't say anything specifically about chicken," said Francis.

"I meant your friend," Rupret said, sniffing the air again.

Francis felt Danny pass him on the steps, the barrow set down behind him. In a minute, he could hear Danny grunting, "Oh, yeah, well take that! And that!", while Rupret stared down at his stomach rippling with futile, invisible punches.

"Stop it! Stop! It tickles!" the dragon laughed, annoyed at the same time. He used his talons like tweezers to pinch for his assailant. Danny managed to slip out of his cloak and drop to the near ground. Rupret's curious diamond eyes stared at the cloth dangling in front them. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Got me some new duds, Rupret," Danny said, dusting himself off. "What do you think?"

"What do I think of an invisibility cloak?" Rupret asked excitedly. "What I wouldn't give for one in my size! Imagine being able to fly around and not hear, 'AAAHHHH!' and 'Oh please! I just got the wagon washed!'"

"It looks like it might stretch. Maybe we can make a trade," Francis offered.

Danny hit him in the arm. "Do you mind not bartering with things that don't belong to you?"

"We need give him something."

"How's he supposed to use it?"

"What about swimsuit season?" Francis tried.

"Oh, this definitely wouldn't cut it," Rupret said, brushing one of his face frills out of the way. "But, I suppose I could use it to conceal the odd blemish. What exactly do you want for it? I already see your passage fare sloshing around in your cart."

"Honestly, Rupret, we could sure use your fire power," Francis said.

"I see. Let me guess. You've never met a dragon like me before. You'd like to hire me for some noble, get-rich quest. I've heard that line from a lot of you fellas lately, but –"

"The princesses are in grave danger!" Danny said.

"Danger?! Where?" The growl beneath Rupret's words gave the impression of lava gurgling its way up the pipes. He stood at attention, his eyes now lit brimstone. Red heat flared from his nose and the corners of his mouth, seemingly stoked by the folded, leathery wings heaving just behind his shoulders..

"The abandoned cottage down along the river!"

"Oh, well, that's different," Rupret said, snuffing his fiery alarm with a gulp and smacking tongue. His giant body relaxed and he sighed a puff of smoke. "I am sorry for that, but you know I'm forbidden to leave the castle grounds unless the While Witch summons me."

"But isn't it your job to protect them?"

"I have limitations."

"Think of your food supply," Danny said.

"You think I'm that selfish? Just what sort of trouble are the girls in?"

"From none other than Robert the Rotten," Francis said.

Rupret nearly erupted again. "Robert! Why that miserable miscreant! That tarantulian tyrant! I have vowed with all my being to destroy him for what he's done to thins kingdom, not to mention what he's done to me!"

"What did he do?" Danny asked.

"One day, as I was napping in a cave near Craggleford Cliff, he met my friend on the mountainside and struck him down."

"Sorry to hear that, Rupret. What was his name?"

"Number One. He was the best scratching tree in the whole of the country. The shoulder blades between the wings are the hardest to reach. Robert chopped him down to build a bridge across a river. I've literally been itching for revenge ever since."

"Well, why don't you come out with us and eat him then?"

"Do you not understand the meaning of the word 'forbidden'?"

"Fine," Francis said. "What about your exceptional hearing? Could you use it to make out anything being said at the barn tonight?"

"I'll certainly try, but mostly it's just that awful din you kids call music these days."

"We need words, Rupret. A special line of words, like a spell."

"I can't promise anything, but I shall do my very best."

"And if we don't make it back tonight..." Danny began.

"I shall treasure your cloak always," Rupret said, bringing it to his eye as though to dab a tear.

"Sorry, but I'm going to need that."

The dragon cleared his throat. "Oh, of course," he said, and returned the cloak to Danny.

"Listen, Rupes, if we don't make it out of trouble tonight, prepare for trouble to come to the castle."

"This is all very unsettling. My stomach is terribly upset. Did you happen to bring me anything minty?"

"As a matter of fact we did." Francis handed him the kitchen's largest kettle, miniscule in Rupret's hands. "It's mint tea. The powdered goat's milk seemed kinda off."

"How thoughtful."

"You'll have to heat it up."

"Thank you."

"Wish us luck," Francis said, as he and Danny made their way to the boat.

"Don't forget to come back before the girls or else I can't let you in," Rupret said.

The boys shoved off until the boat began to float.

"I really hope they do come back," Rupret mumbled into his tea pot. "They forgot the honey."

*****

The moon was full and seemed especially low to the ground. Francis and Danny crept up to the hidden cottage feeling more exposed than they had the night before, even though it was only the fair hair on Danny's uncovered head that caught the light. Once again, they climbed the ladder against the barn and crawled through an opening into the rafters. Below them, the princesses and their dancing partners were still getting warmed up.

"Okay," Francis whispered to Danny. "Drop that hood over your face, get down there and listen out for anything useful."

"Me? Just like that?"

"You're the one who's see-through."

"Look, I want you to know I forgive you for all the mean things you said to me this morning, so in that spirit of friendship, put this on."

He wriggled out of the cloak and handed it to Francis.

"You're a real pal."

Francis wrapped himself up tight and began carefully climbing down another ladder to the barn floor. The cloak snagged on a rough splinter, and he nearly missed his footing. Luckily, he regained it in time with none the wiser to his joining the party. He crept past a few of the princesses by a punchbowl and went to eavesdrop on the group of men waiting for them against a wall. Their talk was mostly grumbling over their assignment being beneath them, which made sense seeing as how they all looked like they'd rolled down a bumpy hill to get there. Some complained of having difficulty with a few of the dance steps, while other agreed that salt and sage made a surprisingly good breath freshener. They also suspected Ivan of having stuffed the shoulders of his jacket with straw to make him appear more muscular, but none of this was any help to Francis.

It probably would've been the wiser move for Francis to simply wait in a corner until the ladies fell under Ivan's spell again. Then, after grappling practice was finished, he could see how they were brought out from it. But seeing Rita gliding along merrily with her giant traitor gave him the idea that perhaps putting just one princess wise might add to the believability of his account later. In other words, he decided to cut in.

He walked carefully around the floor, approaching Ivan at his bandstand with his waxen musicians. Francis knew the enchanted cloak concealing him was pretty convincing, but as he tip-toed his way under Ivan's waving elbows, he had a flickering fear that the wizard might have a bloodhound's nose for magic and find him out. Luckily, Ivan was too busy keeping his shoulder pads straight to notice a thing.

Finally, he was next to Rita, so close that as she twirled, her hair slapped his face. She spun away from her partner, their hands still joined. Francis couldn't help himself and yanked her free hand to pull her away from the goon.

She paused, looking around for who might've bumped into her and thought she heard her name called. Her partner snatched her hands again, this time manoeuvring to flip her over at his side. After a few more hops he swung her through his legs. She could've sworn she heard her name again, because, of course, she had. Francis was trying his best to get her attention, and finally, after one turn, he poked just enough of his face out from the cloak to call her hoarsely,

"Rita!"

Her eyes bulged. Francis disappeared again, but the next time her partner flung her away from him, Francis grabbed her by the shoulders and whispered, "Just keep dancing."

She broke off from her partner, improvising solo steps. Imagine, the brute she was with looked embarrassed by her. Well, she wouldn't have won any contests, but she was trying to keep it together.

"Francis, is that you? How are you doing this?" she asked without moving her lips.

"No one can know I'm here."

"What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you."

"Oh, Francis!" she said, before getting dragged back into those giant arms. Only this time, she refused to be dipped. She squirmed away from her partner and back to Francis with a finger wagging shame to the beat of the music. "Oh, Francis, I knew you cared. I'm so happy you've come."

"You're happy to see me?"

"The other girls said you were just a better actor than the others, but I knew you were different. All this time you've known what we've been doing and haven't said a thing. I could kiss you."

"You could?" A trumpet blared. "Listen, Rita, we have to talk first."

"There's nothing to talk about. This man doesn't mean anything to me. I don't even know his name. I mean, I ought to know it. I've been dancing with him for the last month or so, but it just keeps slipping my mind."

"That long?"

Rita ducked as her dancing partner's leg swung over her head. She was pulled from her crouch back to her feet. She twisted back to Francis in counter-clockwise steps.

"Mm-hmm," she smiled dreamily. "Ever since we found that secret door. Eighteen years, no door, and then as if by magic...But you found it right away, didn't you? Because you're so clever and brave."

"Rita, pay attention."

"Uh-huh."

"You're in terrible trouble."

Her smile disappeared. "Oh. So you are going to rat us out. You...you...rat!"

"Rita" Francis pleaded, trying to calm her down.

"Do you realize this is the only trouble I've ever gotten into? The only fun I've ever had? Do you have any idea what it's like to be locked away your whole life?"

"It's not just trouble. It's real danger."

"It's only dancing," she sniffed. "Now take your invisible hands off me! All you want is that reward after all."

By this point, Rita's partner had had enough. "Pay attention, love, you're favourite song's on," he groused.

"I'm going to sit this one out," she said, pulling her hands from his. Robert's man grabbed her wrist.

"No, you're not. You've been making me look like a fool all night."

"You don't need me for that. You've had something green in your teeth since I got here."

"Good girls do as they are told."

"I beg your pardon?" she said, glaring at him.

"I said," he said along with Ivan's singing, "good girls do as good girls should."

Rita froze except to repeat the words along with her stunned cousins. "Good girls do as good girls should."

Francis, too, remained motionless as the princesses followed Ivan's instructions and cued Robert's entrance. In all his years of combat, Francis had never been anywhere near as close to the real enemy as he was now. The temptation to strike and arrest him was powerful, but a fool's play to be sure. Robert strutted like a cock among hens.

"Dearest nieces! Here we are on the eve of the culmination of eighteen years of fighting to right an egregious wrong. I want to personally thank you again for your participation, however unwillingly compelled. Tomorrow when the usurper sits to feast we shall unleash out attack. Vengeance against Victor!"

"The true king is Robert" the princesses replied in unison.

"Restore me to my rightful glory!"

"Glory to King Robert!"

"Death to traitors!"

"Down with Victor!" the girls chanted. All but one.

"Death to traitors," said Rita, and reached beside her to pull off Francis' cloak.