The next morning, after breakfast, which was a slightly more modest affair than dinner the night before, Catarina found herself alone with Prince Lucion. She had gone for a walk, wearing a delicate silver and green gown that she'd donned from the room's wardrobe, and she encountered him standing by the palace moat. Before she could retreat out of sight, he looked up and smiled at her. As she drew closer to him, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was not, in fact, such a chance encounter and that, instead, he had been planning it.

"Catarina." He was looking quite glorious in a gold-trimmed waistcoat. "How perfect. I was just looking for you."

Suspicious, Catarina couldn't keep herself from asking, rather boldly, "Why?"

The prince regarded her for a second. The morning was fading into a warm, bright day, and his eyes shone bluer than the moat's waters in the honeyed sunlight. "There's something I must speak to you about." He watched her intently as he spoke. "As you know, I've been traveling the kingdom in search of a bride."

"Yes?" Catarina said slowly. She didn't like the direction this was headed.

"Catarina." The prince reached out to take her hand. She attempted to evade him, but her reaction was too slow, and he successfully captured her hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers. His eyes glimmered like stolen summer wishes. "I do believe that my search ended the night I met you."

Catarina gave a soft squeak of alarm. She attempted to retreat, but he was still clasping her hand, and she was drawn forward as he knelt, lowering himself to one knee. Behind him, the moat rippled peacefully, an idyllic view of Courtside unfolding beyond it. He said her name again, raising her hand to his lips.

"Catarina, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Catarina's stomach swooped in a dreadful plunge. She scrambled frantically for a reply, a graceful way to extract herself from the situation. "Now, let's not do anything too hasty."

Prince Lucion's smile was wry. "The prince of Sealin can never do anything hastily. Trust me, there has been plenty of deliberation on my part. I am absolutely certain: I want you to be my bride." His voice rang with conviction. He was still on his knees, and his eyes shone as he looked up at her. She saw admiration in his gaze and something more—something resembling triumph.

The spark of alarm in her stomach flamed up into a blaze. She didn't dare refuse him, but it would be foolish to give him her word. Desperately, she grasped for an answer but came up empty-handed. Her mind was blank. Oh, how she wished Frankfurt was here with her right now, but he was off in the palace, visiting with Pippin. "I must—I need some time to think," she finally stammered, hoping her panic didn't show through.

"Of course." The prince raised himself to his feet and inclined his head graciously. "I know this must come as something of a shock to you."

I scarcely know you, Catarina almost said aloud but bit her tongue. Instead, she tucked both her hands behind her back, to prevent him from catching them again, and excused herself as calmly and politely as she could manage. She didn't glance back as she made her escape, scurrying towards the palace steps. She knew what she would see: Prince Lucion standing silhouetted against the backdrop of the city of Courtside, his golden hair and royal finery aflame in the brilliant sunlight. Why? The question nagged at her as she rushed, flustered and confused, through the palace's halls in search of Frankfurt. Why in heaven's name would Prince Lucion ask her, of all the girls in the kingdom, to marry him?

After getting turned around a great deal of times, Catarina finally found Frankfurt, along with Pippin and Princess Marielle, in what looked to be a ballroom.

"What have you done now?" Frankfurt said accusingly, taking in her stunned, disheveled state.

"The prince just proposed to me! I barely escaped," she cried.

Princess Marielle froze in the middle of bundling Pippin up into her arms. She seemed to recognize that Catarina was talking to her Companion, and somehow, she seemed only faintly surprised by Catarina's declaration. She murmured something that looked like, "I wasn't expecting him to do it so soon," but she was too far away for Catarina to hear.

Glancing at her, Catarina lowered her voice, speaking in soft, anguished tones. "Whatever shall I do, Frankfurt?"

The fluffy gray cat looked unconcerned. He sat back on his haunches and licked one paw in a contemplative manner. "You could always accept."

"But I don't want to marry him. I don't want to marry into the royal family, and there's something odd about the way he looks at me. And anyway, I have no desire to marry someone who would propose after only knowing me for one day."

"Then," Frankfurt said, looking at her like she was half-dumb, "naturally, you must refuse."

"I can't," Catarina hissed. Perhaps having him there wouldn't have been so helpful after all. "I can't afford to offend him, or the king and queen, like that. Certainly not while I'm in the royal palace at their mercy. I don't think the guards will let me out, even if I try. They act like they've been given orders to keep me within the palace grounds."

"Well then, this is a sticky situation." Frankfurt licked his paw and then used it to smooth one of his ears. "You know, many would consider this having made their fortune. It's hard to do much better than marrying a prince and becoming a princess—unless you have me as your Companion, of course."

Catarina shook her head vigorously. Living the lavish, pressured life of royalty was a far cry from her dream of a peaceful little cottage by the seashore. "I told him I needed time to decide, but I can't stall for long. If I spend too much time deciding, he'll begin to suspect that I plan to turn him down. I need to find some way to escape this without outright refusing or offending him. What should I do? Think, Frankfurt!"

"I am thinking," Frankfurt mewled plaintively. "As I said, this is a sticky situation."

A soft voice broke into their mutual brainstorming. Princess Marielle was standing in front of them, Pippin in her arms. She didn't bother apologizing for eavesdropping. "I can help you," she offered. "I can sneak you past the guards and make up some excuse to convince Lucion you had no choice but to leave."

As Catarina looked at Princess Marielle, she suddenly recalled that the princess had been about to tell her something the night before in the garden. "What was it that you were going to say to me last night?" She asked.

The dark-haired princess hesitated, looking conflicted, before shaking her head. "It doesn't matter, not anymore." She refocused on the task at hand. "It was wrong of Lucion to bring you here like this. You should be free to leave if you wish to. I can help you seek your fortune. Didn't you say you were headed for the Doomed Mountains?" Catarina nodded, and the princess shivered slightly, as if chilled by the mere thought of the mountain range. "It's settled then," she declared, affectionately patting Pippin's fluffy black and white head. "I'll send Pippin with you. She can guide you to the mountains."

"She can?" Catarina said, looking at the little dog incredulously.

"She can." Princess Marielle nodded her head confidently. "Pippin is much mightier than she looks. She's descended from the High Council of Canines, who made their stronghold in the base of the Doomed Mountains. They no longer reside there, but Pippin knows the area well. You will have to walk through wild, uncharted territory in order to reach the Doomed Mountains, and there will be no paths or roads to follow. Pippin says she can safely lead you through the forest and foothills to the mountains you seek."

Frankfurt looked delighted by the idea of Pippin traveling with them. "We would be thrilled to accept your gracious offer," he mewed, and Catarina translated for him.

※※※

They waited until nightfall to execute their plans. Back in her rooms in the West Tower, Catarina took one final luxurious bath and then donned a less conspicuous navy blue silk gown. She slung her satchel over her shoulder, which was full of dried fruit, apples, and oranges that she had hidden in her skirts during dinner. Then she met Princess Marielle at the palace entrance.

Princess Marielle grinned broadly when she saw Catarina. "You finally showed up! I was afraid you might have lost your nerve." A mysterious little black leather pouch was hanging from her neck. She fingered it in anticipation as Pippin scampered up to greet Frankfurt. Catarina had the distinct impression that Frankfurt was talking to her.

"Are you ready?" Princess Marielle beckoned Catarina to the palace's grand arched entrance. They stood just within, peering around one of the marble pillars, and Catarina saw two guards standing just outside and flanking the archway. There were more on the palace stairs, one on every step, their uniforms slivers of gleaming blue and gold in the golden glow of the night.

"You're right, you know," Princess Marielle said. "The king ordered them not to allow you past the palace gates." She pried open the pouch around her neck and produced a strange little black lump from inside. It looked like a lump of coal. She brandished it triumphantly. "I'm going to use a spell to distract the guards. I made this one myself." Perhaps seeing Catarina's surprise, she added, "I inherited the ability to perform magic from my mother. Now, I'm going to ignite the spell. When I say run, you must run."

"But won't that alert the guards?" Catarina asked.

"They'll think I'm talking to them. I have a reputation for experimenting with my spells in unfortunate places. It's not unusual for one to go horribly wrong, or, in this case, horribly right." Looking excited, she stepped out through the palace entrance. The guards snapped to attention when they saw her. She approached them, smiling innocently, glanced back at where Catarina was hiding, and then tossed the little black lump into the air.

The lights of Courtside twinkled beyond the palace gates, reflected in the black waters of the moat. They clearly illuminated the look of terror that passed over the guards' faces even before the lump struck the ground. The instant it landed on the top step of the palace stairs, it burst into great roils of fizzing and popping green smoke. Distinctly, Catarina heard Princess Marielle mutter, "That's not right. It's supposed to catch fire."

Catarina was glad it didn't as she sprinted out of the palace entrance and down the stairs. Pippin dashed in a fluffy black-and-white blur down the palace steps in front of her. The little dog glanced back at Catarina, her dark eyes glistening in the puffs of green smoke, in a way that seemed to tell Catarina to follow her. Catarina didn't need to be told twice. Coughing, with Frankfurt at her heels, she ran after Pippin, following the little dog across the drawbridge and out the palace gates. No one tried to stop her. All the guards had heeded Princess Marielle and scrambled for cover inside when she'd yelled, "Run!".

A ways behind her, Catarina heard a thundering boom, and a blinding flash of green light exploded on the palace steps. She didn't pause to see what havoc the princess's spell had wrecked. She followed Pippin, breathlessly, into the streets of Courtside. The streetlamps were lit and glowing with golden and blue lights, and the stars were made invisible by the bright windows of shops and buildings. The night air was cold and sharp as a knife, filled with the clatter of horses and carriage wheels. The streets were still busy, despite the late hour.

Pippin only slowed to a halt once they were standing on a street corner, the palace a twinkle of lights and golden turrets behind them. At first, Catarina was baffled as to why the little dog suddenly stopped and refused to go on, but then she realized they were standing outside a stable with carriages for hire. Counting the remainder of her coins, she used every last one to pay for a cab to take them out of Courtside and to the far-south town of Brassbury. From there, she thought, there would be no roads travelable by carriage or paths clearly marking the way. They would have to rely utterly and entirely on the knowledge and navigation skills of Princess Marielle's Companion.

※※※

Indeed, after a two-day journey to Brassbury, they discovered that the roads did end at the outer edge of town, and they were forced to venture forth on foot. They plunged into a deep, dark forest, even denser and more shadowed than the woods. Catarina was afraid they would get lost in the maze of tangled roots and thick branches, but Pippin was unwavering. Once they emerged, much to Cararina's relief, from the forest, they began the long, arduous trek across the Doomed Mountain's foothills. The land was bleak and rocky, dotted with evergreens and small, twisted bushes. It grew colder as they ascended, and they woke each morning to find the ground glazed with frost. Pippin's short stature and soft, fluffy fur looked terribly out of place against the steep rocks and scraggly, half-dead trees, but she appeared not the least intimidated by the rough going.

Frankfurt was long-suffering. His delicate paw pads were chafed by the sharp rocky ground, and he was forced to subsist off of dried fruit since there was not another living creature to be seen. His expression was one of constant, abject misery, and he occasionally mewled bitterly, but his pride seemed to prevent him from complaining too much. Pippin weathered it all with surprising fortitude, and he did not want to appear soft next to her.

It wasn't long before the mountains loomed into view. They were towering, craggy, dark silhouettes on the horizon, their peaks white with snow and shrouded in mist. They stretched for as far as any of them could see to both corners of the horizon, like black-clad mourners silently lining the misty banks of a river. An ominous feeling of foreboding crept through Catarina every time she looked at them. Frankfurt pointed out the tallest, most jagged mountain to her. "That," he said, "is Peril Peak."

Snow began to appear in patches on the ground. They woke several mornings to find it falling thickly around them and had to huddle together for warmth. On the final day, the entire ground was covered in an icy white blanket of snow, forcing them to stomp knee-deep through it. It must have been mid-day—although Catarina couldn't tell where the sun was in the sky because it was so thickly snuffed out by gray clouds and heavy, swirling mist—when they reached the base of the first mountain.

Catarina found herself facing a sheer wall of black stone, glistening with frost. The cold was almost unbearable, as if an icy wind were emanating from within the mountain itself. Pippin sat back on her haunches and looked at Catarina encouragingly. This was where her duty to guide them ended. Frankfurt was grieved by her abandonment of them. He sat woefully and watched her little black-and-white silhouette weave back in the direction of the forest, becoming smaller and smaller until she vanished completely, fading into the mist.

"This is what you wanted," Catarina said as she craned her back to stare up at the staggering height of the mountain. "I never would have come here if not for you."

"I know." He flicked his tail in irritation. His gray fur was tipped with a fine dusting of snow, and his breath clouded the air in a little puff as he snorted. "That doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

Catarina ignored his belligerent tone. "What do we do now?" She placed her hand against the mountainside and then hurriedly withdrew it when her fingers instantly became numb.

"We're very close now," Frankfurt said. The thought seemed to cheer him considerably, returning the light to his eyes. They sparkled with a sly glint as he turned to her. "All we must do is find a way inside Peril Peak. But we must be careful. The mountains are hostile. They have much darkness within them in order to keep the outside world out. That is why the king chose them in the first place to hide the treasure."

He swept his tail in a slow arc. Catarina wasn't sure if she quite liked the glow that entered his yellow eyes at the mention of the treasure. "Come on then," he said. "We must keep moving before we both freeze to death."