Cassima reappeared in a sandy waste punctuated by two buildings, with a small pool of water and a pair of palm trees in the distance. The desert sands burned in the light of the midday sun. It was definitely an oasis, but was it the oasis?

One of the two buildings seemed out of place for the desert. It was constructed out of bricks, but instead of shingles on its roof, there was merely a wooden frame covered with canvas sheeting. Its door was firmly closed, but Cassima could hear someone bustling around inside.

The second building was constructed out of what resembled adobe. Its windows had no glass, its doorway had no door, and atop the roof, several palm fronds covered an array of long poles propped up against each other. Unlike the brick construction, this dwelling seemed much more beautiful to Cassima – its humble appearance made it seem so friendly, and in some ways, it almost reminded her of the houses in the villages on the Isle of the Crown.

As she was making her way towards the second building, she noticed a delicate woman clothed in a deep blue robe with a matching veil seated beside the building on a small red mat. A palm branch inserted into a hole in the wall provided shade, but certainly not enough shade for someone clothed from head to foot, Cassima thought. Still, she seemed to be a native of this region, so she should surely be able to tell Cassima if she was at the right oasis…

"Good day. Can you tell me where I am, madam?"

"You are in the Llewdor Oasis, young maiden," said the woman in a slightly husky voice. "We do not get many foreigners here. Who are you?"

"Cassima. And you?"

The woman's dark eyes – the only part of her face visible to Cassima – blinked slowly.

"Cassima, eh? Oh, my name is not important. Travelers don't find it necessary to own a name."

"You are a traveler in this desolate wasteland? What are you doing here?"

The woman gave Cassima an enigmatic look.

"I serve one, and he has asked me to be here for a mission that I cannot reveal to you. You do understand?"

"Well…yes…"

"Good."

Cassima knew she would never want to talk to this woman again.

The shade of the adobe building was a welcome relief from the burning desert sun. The place looked very much like a shop; there was nothing but sand for a floor, small shelves protruded from the walls and a large cactus with two protruding branches covered with bright pink flowers grew out of a pot near the door.

A counter decorated with palm leaves stood near the back of the shop, and behind the counter was a ladder that led up to an opening in the ceiling that must have provided access to the roof.

Between the counter and the ladder, however, was an elderly woman with large, dark eyes, short, steely gray hair and a slim build. If this woman had been maintaining this shop since she was younger, this shop had certainly fared well, all things considered. The woman's face pulled itself into a broad grin when she noticed Cassima.

"How do you do, my lady," she said sweetly. "I am Leticia. I sell and trade all sorts of items and allow travelers to rest before continuing on their journey. I even have some healing herbs and medicines in stock for the weak and ailing. What brings you here, though? You don't look like a typical traveler."

"I am on a journey…but a different one, I guess," Cassima said. "This is a beautiful shop you have."

"Thank you, my child," Leticia smiled. "Feel free to look around, and let me know if you find anything of interest…"

Her voice slowly trailed off as she looked at Cassima.

"Have we met before?" she asked.

"If we did, I don't remember," Cassima said with a small shrug.

"Oh well, my memory isn't what it used to be," Leticia chuckled. "And before I forget, I should let you know that I've got a lodger upstairs, and he's requested that we keep the noise down. Not that you seem like the raucous type, but I'm just playing it safe."

Cassima nodded in response and glanced around the shop, seeing if any of the items caught her eye. A variety of books sat on a shelf on one side of the shop, but the only book that jumped out at her was a guide to children's names. Since she had very little money, she elected not to purchase it.

She and Leticia were not the only people in the shop. A teenage boy with dark hair and dark eyes was sitting with his back against the wall of the shop – he had to be Leticia's son. Standing next to the cactus was a large man facing the wall, idly flipping through a book. Occasionally he would glance up, as if he were afraid someone was watching him, but then quickly return to his reading. Cassima couldn't see his face, since his features were hidden by the hood of his burnoose, but when he glanced at her for one tense moment, she could have sworn that his beard was bright blue. She dismissed the sight as an illusion brought on by the heat.

On the west side of the shop were three shelves, on which were displayed a turban, a necklace and an elegant clay sculpture. They were all beautiful objects, but oddly enough, the only item in the shop that caught Cassima's eye was a toy crossbow leaning against the counter.

"How much are you selling that crossbow for?" she asked.

"That?" Leticia replied. "Why would you want that little thing? It's just a toy."

"I know. Maybe I get more out of them than most people."

"Well, if you insist," Leticia said slowly. "Like I said, it is a toy, but it's in remarkably fine condition. It shouldn't really be called a toy, with its accuracy."

"So how much would it cost?"

"Well, I'd say it would cost more than just a few coppers, my lady. True, you can't eat or drink copper, and food and water are the most important things in the desert, but still, money is money. I'd say that a few pieces of silver would be enough to buy you this crossbow."

"I see."

Cassima dug into her pocket and extracted the silver coins that the wiseman of the Serenian mountains had given her.

"Is this enough silver to buy that crossbow, Leticia?" she asked.

"Certainly," Leticia said as Cassima placed the coins into the shopkeeper's wrinkled hand. "That's plenty. The crossbow is yours, child."

"Thank you, Leticia," Cassima said, taking possession of the toy. "Good luck with your business."

"And good luck with your journey, child."

As Leticia spoke these words, Cassima caught a glimpse of something deep blue out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see the robed woman who had previously been sitting outside the shop walk over to the bookshelves and start examining their contents with an almost feverish interest. It chilled Cassima to see that woman again. There was something about her that made the queen feel as if she was in the presence of a wild animal, and as soon as she had noticed the woman, she left the shop as quickly and discreetly as she could, eager to get as far away from her as possible.

She paused outside, wondering why she had reacted in such a fearful way. The woman hadn't threatened her in any way, she had just walked into the shop. Nonetheless, Cassima was almost convinced that that woman was following her, and judging by the way the woman had spoken to her the first time they had talked, she wasn't eager to engage in small talk with Cassima.

Farther west was an oasis with two tall palm trees towering above it. Two camels and a pony were tethered to the trees, but Cassima's desire to get away from that woman in Leticia's shop wasn't extreme enough to motivate her to steal one of the animals and ride away on it.

Then she noticed the second building in the oasis, the one constructed out of bricks. She decided to enter it, where the woman would hopefully lose track of her…if she really was following her, which Cassima prayed wasn't the case.

Cassima pulled its door open with some effort because of the sand surrounding it and stepped into the dark, stuffy shop.

"Make sure you close it all the way," barked a belligerent voice from the gloom. "It's gritty enough in here without you letting in more of the stuff!"

Cassima closed the door and tried to figure out who had addressed her. As her eyes became accustomed to the dimly lit interior, she could see that she was in a shop that appeared to deal in textiles – several brightly patterned carpets hung from the brick walls, and the wooden counters that lined the walls undoubtedly held more rolls of fabric.

The floor of the shop was mostly sand, but it looked as if someone had attempted to lay down some floorboards, since several planks spanned it at random intervals. A single candle pierced the darkness that otherwise pervaded over the place, and behind the main counter was a little man with untidy gray hair and large round glasses that would barely have come up to Cassima's waist if he hadn't been standing on a crate. He squinted unpleasantly at her from behind the counter as she entered. The words that described the man best all began with the letter "S": small, stout, scruffy, sneering, scowling…

"And if you're going to gawk, gawk at the wares, not me, you inconsiderate beanpole!"

…Snappy and short-tempered too.

"I'm sorry, sir," Cassima said. "Do you sell anything here besides fabric?"

"No," the man snarled. "Just blankets, carpets, throw rugs, canvasses. And it doesn't pay well. I should never have chosen this location to set up shop."

"That reminds me," Cassima said, "What made you decide to construct this brick building in the middle of a desert?"

The man's little eyes grew dangerously narrow. He leapt from his crate and landed on a decorative red carpet between the counter and the wall with an unusually hollow-sounding thud.

"Are you criticizing this building that I designed and built with my own two hands?" he snapped.

"No, I just…"

"You travelers are the most tactless bunch I have ever met!" the man yelled shrilly. "Your rudeness knows no bounds. I try to sell you my finest fabrics, and all you do is make callous remarks!"

Cassima decided not to argue with him any more. She merely waited until he had finished his rant and hopped back upon his crate, then silently excused herself, turning to leave the shop.

She suddenly stopped in her tracks. There was a window set into the brick wall, but it was covered by a roughly woven cloth. Cassima slowly approached the window and pulled back the cloth just the tiniest fraction of an inch.

Her heart began thumping like the hooves of a horse as she let the cloth fall back. It was her. The woman in blue. She was standing barely three feet from the shop, watching it like a snake watches a nearby mouse.

She was following Cassima. But why? What had Cassima done that would make this stranger tail her like this?

A horrifying thought crossed Cassima's mind: What if this woman was another agent of Shadrack? Her words about serving someone and being on a secret mission hadn't seemed suspicious before, but now Cassima was almost positive that this woman had been referring to Shadrack. A woman could aid an evil entity just as willingly as a man, Cassima knew, and this woman had either been coerced into helping Shadrack, or even worse, had volunteered for the duty. Cassima shuddered to think what would drive her to do such a thing. The young queen now knew that she couldn't leave the shop the way she had entered it. She had to find another way out, and fast…if there was another way.

"Excuse me, shopkeeper," she said nervously, reluctantly turning to face the shopkeeper again, "Is there another way out of this shop besides the main door?"

"What, that door isn't good enough for you?" the man shouted. "You think you can build a better one? I was going to put in a huge gate and portcullis and a moat around this place, but I figured that a nice solid door would be enough for…"

"Never mind," Cassima said through clenched teeth. This man wasn't going to be any help. She had to find a way out of here on her own.

Remembering the strange sound she had heard when the shopkeeper had landed on the red carpet, she asked him to tell her what was in the cupboard beneath the counter. When the shopkeeper had hopped down to open the cupboard, Cassima heard that same hollow, wooden sound. That carpet had to be covering a trapdoor. She had no idea where it led, but that seemed to be her only means of escape now. She was certain that the shopkeeper wouldn't let her open the trapdoor, so she had to somehow distract him, or at least make sure he didn't see her open it.

If it were just a little bit darker in the shop, perhaps she could sneak up to the trapdoor unnoticed. If she could somehow put out that candle, the shop would be almost completely dark, but how could she extinguish it without being seen?

She quickly scanned the shop in the hopes of finding a way. She noticed a nondescript doorway leading to a small room at the right side of the shop, and inside the room was a large trunk with several rolled tapestries atop it and a large wooden loom standing against the wall. As Cassima examined the loom, she noticed a crack in the wall, through which she could see the rest of the shop. She could also see the lone candle flickering atop the far counter. Perhaps she could somehow put out the candle from here…

She carefully took out her toy crossbow and aimed it through the gaping crack. It was difficult to aim through such an irregular opening, but with a little trial and error, she found that using the warp of the loom, she was able to line the shaft of the crossbow up with the candle perfectly.

Once she had the wick in her sights, she waited until the shopkeeper wasn't looking her way, then loosed off the only arrow she had, and it neatly clipped the candle's tip, extinguishing its flame and plunging the textile shop into almost total darkness.

The shopkeeper cursed loudly about the cheapness of candles bought from caravans, then hopped off his crate and began rummaging in the cupboards in search of another source of light.

Cassima was about to run to the trapdoor when she realized that she was almost blind in the darkened shop, and the shopkeeper would undoubtedly hear her approaching him. How could she see in the dark and sneak up to the trapdoor without being heard?

The charm bracelet immediately sprang to mind. The wolf could see in the dark, but it wasn't a shape designed for this sort of sneaking. The lizard was inconspicuous enough, but there was no way she could move the carpet or open the trapdoor in that shape…besides, there was always the risk of being stepped on by the shopkeeper.

Then Cassima remembered the shape that she had been afraid to assume: the panther. She wasn't sure why she feared that form, but in her present situation, it seemed to be the only shape that was stealthy, strong, and capable of seeing in the dark. It seemed that she had no other choice. She dropped the crossbow, closed her eyes, and whispered the word "Panthera".

Once again there was that odd distant thundering noise, and with it came the echo of a skin-prickling snarl, the sound of the beast that Cassima had now become.

She opened her eyes to a place that was no longer dark to her and stared down at her soft, rounded paws. As before, she was entirely black, but unlike the goat and the wolf, the fur of this body was quite short and fine. She also felt much more powerful in this form than she had in the previous ones. She felt as if she could leap over a wall in a single bound, run with the speed of a deer, or dodge a knife thrown her way. For now, however, she had to concentrate on sneaking up to the trapdoor before the shopkeeper found another candle. She flattened her body against the ground and began creeping towards the opposite end of the store in a flowing, almost liquid, fashion. She moved as easily and gracefully as a ribbon of silk flowing down a stream, quickly narrowing the gap between herself and the carpet which covered the trapdoor. The shopkeeper was some distance away with his back to Cassima, still muttering to himself and rummaging through the contents of the cupboard, unable to see what he was doing.

She extended a paw and pushed the carpet aside, revealing just what she had suspected to find: a large wooden trapdoor set in a wooden frame, which was in turn surrounded by a stone-and-mortar frame. Unfortunately, there was a large keyhole set into the trapdoor, and when Cassima tugged at the trapdoor's handle, she found it securely locked. She glanced up at the shopkeeper, and her keen cat's eyes caught a flash of metal near his midriff. A large key hung from a loop of string on his belt. For a moment, Cassima wondered how she could cut the key free with paws that weren't suited to gripping her dagger, but then she realized that her panther's form provided her with many daggers – many tiny, well-sharpened daggers that were kept sheathed in her paws. She lifted a forepaw and exposed her claws. They looked quite sharp and capable of doing anything that a normal dagger could do. She had to use them carefully, though.

Hesitating for as long as she dared, Cassima quickly padded up to the shopkeeper's hunched form, cut the key loose from his belt with one swipe of a single claw, grabbed the key with her mouth as soon as it had fallen (disregarding the feel of the sand in her mouth as much as she could), then turned and darted back to the trapdoor, where she inserted the key into the keyhole after one or two failures to do so, and then turned the key by gripping it between two of her toes. She managed to unlock it after several terrified seconds, after which she pulled it open by looping a paw beneath the handle, then quickly slipped through it, being careful not to catch her tail in the trapdoor as she shut it behind her.

Beneath the trapdoor was a tunnel that led almost straight down. It appeared to be created entirely out of stone and mortar. A wooden ladder was propped up against the side of the tunnel, which Cassima awkwardly descended into a chamber that looked very much like a dungeon cell. It was apparently where the shopkeeper lived, since a hay-stuffed mattress lay on the floor, several books lay stacked about, and several cupboards and barrels lined the walls. Cassima, however, had no time to contemplate how he could have constructed such a place in a desert. Her eyes darted around the room, trying to find another way out. She soon found it: another ladder leading towards another trapdoor through which sunlight streamed. She raced towards it, leapt onto the ladder and forced the trapdoor open with her head, which thankfully wasn't locked from the outside. She squeezed her way through and found herself just outside the textile shop, apparently on the opposite side of the one the door was on. She had escaped.

She gratefully muttered Andros, rose to her feet and dusted her dress off. As grateful as she was for the panther shape's ability to get her out of that jam without a hitch, there was still something about that shape that made her shiver a little. It seemed almost too fierce and powerful a form for her to safely assume. All the other animal forms seemed tame in comparison to the panther, a beast which could cut its victims open with a single swipe, leap great lengths and heights unpredictably, break a neck with one clean bite and strike without warning. Perhaps it was Cassima's instinctive fear of wild animals that made her afraid of becoming one this wild. As much as the rational part of her mind reminded her that this was just another creature on the charm bracelet with nothing that set it apart from the others, Cassima decided not to use the panther shape again unless it was a situation that called for a form that fierce.

Just as she was contemplating what to do and where to go next, she froze in terror as a man suddenly rounded the corner of the shop and stood staring into her eyes. It wasn't his sudden appearance or piercing stare that terrified her, though. It was his beard – which was a brilliant shade of blue – that petrified her with shock. It was the same man she had seen in Leticia's shop, but he wasn't wearing his burnoose this time, just a simple flowing outfit and a plain turban.

"Good day, my lady," he said in a deep, gentle voice.

Cassima took a step back.

"Why do you look at me so fearfully?" the man asked. "I have no intention of harming you, and no reason to – why would I want to hurt such an exquisite vision of loveliness?"

His words would have undoubtedly have made a younger, more impressionable woman swoon, but Cassima had met men like this one before, and she knew better than to listen to what they said.

"I appreciate the compliment, sir," she said, unable to tear her eyes from his bizarre blue beard, "But if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way…"

"And where would you be headed on foot, my lady?" the stranger asked.

"Er…" Cassima faltered, "I'm not quite sure at the moment…"

It was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it as soon as it had left her lips.

"Well, perhaps I could help you decide where to go, then," the man purred, drawing closer to her. "Perhaps I could even provide you with a place to stay for a while…you do appear quite weary, my dear."

He was quite persuasive, but Cassima wasn't the type who was easily persuaded. She didn't like this man.

"I have lived a long, lonely life in this desert," the man said wistfully. "I have accumulated much wealth and power over the years. All the same, I have often longed for a wife to keep me company in my solitude. What use are such riches as the kind I possess without someone to share them with?"

He was growing uncomfortably close to Cassima, who was becoming so frightened that she could barely back away from him any longer.

"I think I understand what you're getting at, sir," she said as steadily as she was able. "But you're wasting your time with me. You see, I'm already married."

A muscle in the man's cheek twitched ever so slightly, but otherwise he retained that gentle, doting expression that he had been wearing since the moment he appeared.

"At least come to my castle and grant a lonely soul the pleasure of your beautiful presence for just a short time," he pleaded. "Perhaps you may find me just as fine a man as your husband…or perhaps you may find yourself more attracted to me than to him."

"Sir, really, I can't – "

With lightning speed, the stranger thrust out an arm and grabbed her shoulder with a grip that was soft, but Cassima could feel muscles that could splinter bones in his hand.

"I insist," he said in a voice that had suddenly grown dangerously cool. The feel of his hand on her shoulder made Cassima realize that he had the strength to injure her badly or even kill her without resorting to the use of weapons. The quickness with which he grabbed her convinced her that he could easily catch her if she tried to run away. Trying to escape was impossible now. The man led her towards the pool west of the oasis, where he lifted her onto one of the camels tethered there.

"By the way," he said as he led the camel away from the oasis, "My name is Bluebeard, my lady."

A small castle soon appeared over the crest of a sand dune. As they approached it, Bluebeard spoke at length about all the great treasures he kept within the castle, and how she would be the first one to behold them in many years. Cassima barely heard him. She was terrified of him and what was going to happen to her. This man seemed fixated on marrying her, despite her constant insistence that she was already married. In her fright, she couldn't even visualize a location that her pendant could transport her to, or even chose an animal shape to assume that might help her escape this man. Despite her terror, at the same time she had a burning curiosity to find out more about him…even though she would be much more comfortable doing so by reading about him in a book or hearing about him from a passing traveler.

When they finally reached the castle, Bluebeard helped Cassima off the camel and led it to its stall, keeping his hand firmly closed around her wrist the entire time. He then opened the great doors to the castle and led the queen inside.

The castle was as gloomily lit as the textile shop before Cassima put out its single candle. Torches with an odd reddish glow burned in sconces that were much too few in number, and the cold stone walls were undecorated and shabbily constructed. The dungeons in the Castle of the Crown had better stonework than this castle did.

"Home sweet home," said Bluebeard. "For me, and perhaps for you if you should happen to change your mind…"

"I won't," Cassima said.

"Oh!" Bluebeard suddenly cried, completely ignoring Cassima's remark. "I can't believe I forgot to buy you the items that a new bride always desires – dresses, perfume, jewelry – how silly of me to have forgotten! Now I'll have to return to the oasis to see whether I can find any of those things!"

"But I don't…"

"Here," Bluebeard said, thrusting something into her hand. It was a heavy metal ring with at least a dozen keys hanging from it.

"These keys open every single door in my castle," Bluebeard said proudly. "Every room, with all of its gold, jewels, and precious artifacts, is open to you, my sweet. Feel free to unlock and explore every room in my home while I am gone…"

He suddenly grew very stern and brooding.

"…But remember this: do not open the door that this key unlocks."

Here he pointed to a key that was slightly larger and more elaborate than the others.

"Use every key but that one," he said quietly. "If you do use it, I will know. Farewell, my beauty."

He was out the double doors before Cassima could react. She ran to the doors and tried to open them, but Bluebeard had already bolted them. For the second time that day, Cassima was trapped.

Imprisonment by men intent on marrying her seemed to be becoming a recurring event in Cassima's life. First Mordack had kidnapped her, then enslaved her in his fortress when she refused to marry him, then Alhazred (a man she had disliked since her childhood) had locked her in her room while he planned their so-called wedding. She had thought that being married would put a stop to this sort of thing, but now that Bluebeard had locked her in his castle, there didn't seem to be anything under the sun that would stop men from treating her this way.

Cassima wandered through the Spartan interior of the castle, ignoring the rooms overflowing with treasure and precious items in favor of finding another way out besides the main doors. This castle puzzled her. She hadn't seen it in her vision as she was flying to Tamir, but this probably meant that she was either in the distant past and the castle had been destroyed before the era in which she had had her vision, or she was in the future and the castle had just recently been constructed.

Bluebeard himself puzzled her, too. He seemed unnaturally fixated on taking her to his castle. He loved her in the possessive, greedy way that a man loves a rare beast or a priceless artifact that he owns…why would a man who loved that way desire to marry? He was nearing middle age, so he had undoubtedly met several ladies, and by now he should have learned that they weren't merely precious gems to keep at his side and gloat over.

Then there was that one key that he told her never to use. Why was she never to use that key? What was he hiding behind the door whose lock it fit? Cassima felt that whatever was behind that door would solve the mystery behind both Bluebeard and his castle. Disregarding Bluebeard's threat, she began walking through the gloomy halls, trying the key in every door she found until she found one that the key fit – a large, heavy oaken door that creaked chillingly as Cassima began to open it.

She suddenly stopped. Did she really want to open this door? Who could say what was behind it? It could be a terrible beast or a deadly trap. Still, it could easily be hiding a passageway that led out of the castle as well, and Cassima was desperate enough to see whether it was or not. Her anxieties were still making it impossible for her to clearly think of a location that her pendant could take her to.

Steeling herself, she slowly pulled the door open just a fraction of an inch and peered inside. The room beyond it was pitch black, and for a moment, she was unable to see anything. Then she did…

…And instantly wished that she hadn't.

She whirled around and slammed the door shut, almost hysterical with horror and trying to catch her breath as her heart hammered away. If only she hadn't opened the door…if only she hadn't looked inside…if only she hadn't seen what she saw…Cassima rubbed her eyes, trying in vain to scrub that terrible scene from her mind. It seemed like the more she tried to forget it, the stronger it grew.

It was a pile of dead bodies…women's bodies, their throats cut, all lying in a pool of blood…theirs.

Cassima slowly realized that she wasn't Bluebeard's first "wife." He had had many brides before her…and murdered them all. He must have killed his first wife for whatever reason he had, then proceeded to kill each successive woman he married who opened the door to that ghastly room where all of his previous wives lay.

With a shaking hand, she locked the door and withdrew the key…then almost cried out in fright. There was a small bloodstain on the key. How it had gotten there, she had no idea, but it wasn't there before she had opened the forbidden room. She frantically tried to scrub the stain off with her dress, but it refused to disappear. It was on the key for good, and when Bluebeard came home and saw the stain…what was it he had said?

"If you do use it, I will know."

Cassima trembled. Her quest to find a way out of this castle had just become a little more urgent.

She quickly walked down another stone corridor, looking for some way to escape. If she could find an axe, she could break down the doors, but even on a camel she wouldn't be able to put much distance between herself and the castle by the time Bluebeard returned. She rounded a corner and noticed a doorway that had no door set in it. Unfortunately, the steps leading down from it weren't lit, and Cassima didn't fancy falling down a darkened flight of stairs and injuring herself with a murderous maniac due to return to the castle any minute.

Further down the corridor was another much more impressive flight of steps winding its way around a rounded section of the wall. With nothing but time to lose, Cassima ran up the stairs to see where they led.

Several breathless moments later, Cassima found herself in a small room which had to be at the top of a tower. A small canopy bed stood against the rounded wall, and a plain dresser stood near it. What caught Cassima's eye the most was something which she hadn't seen anywhere else in the castle, the sight of which filled her with overwhelming relief: A window.

She ran to it and gazed out. Through it she could see the oasis as a tiny section of the vast desert that appeared scarcely larger than a saucer. The desert stretched onwards in all directions. Cassima looked straight down. The tower she was in was very high off the ground; jumping from this window was out of the question. She was tempted to turn into a raven and fly out, but the harsh sun would probably kill her if she tried flying out across the desert. She could turn into a lizard and climb down the wall, but the risk of falling was just too great – and it would be a much longer fall for her as a lizard than it would be for her as a human. Besides, she didn't want to try changing into an animal with her mind in such a frazzled, fearful state. She would have to think about the problem of the window, and she didn't have much time in which to do that.

She turned from the window to face the room again. This was probably the room where Bluebeard's poor doomed wives lived. It was quite bare except for the bed, the dresser and a large, dusty changing screen folded against the wall. There was something sitting on top of the dresser that demanded closer attention. Cassima approached the dresser and saw that the object was a small, glossy stone – a piece of flint. She impulsively picked it up, but as she did, she heard a low hiss coming from near her feet. She looked down just in time to see the head of a large green snake appear from under the dresser.

Cassima staggered backwards with a yelp, and the snake slid out after her. It coiled itself several feet away from her, still hissing and looking as if it would strike at any moment. The queen's eyes flicked from the snake to the door that led to the staircase and back again, then she nearly leaped towards the doorway just as the snake stuck out at her. It missed her by several feet, but that was still much too close a shave for her.

Cassima didn't stop running until she had reached the bottom of the stairs. In any other situation, she would have avoided that room after such a narrow escape, but she simply had to do something about that snake. If she didn't, there would be no way for her to get to the window, which seemed to be the only way to escape the castle. She could probably kill the snake with her dagger, but she didn't want to resort to such a violent solution just yet. There had to be a less extreme way.

She looked at the open doorway near the base of the stairs which she had passed by earlier. There was a large stone alcove in the wall beside the doorway, and in it was an unlit candle set in a plain brass holder. With that candle, the dark stairs beyond that doorway would be a good deal less dangerous…if only she had some way of lighting the candle. Cassima almost smirked with the irony of being faced with such a situation barely an hour after a scenario in which she was trying desperately to extinguish a candle.

She examined the alcove more carefully. There was a large, rough stone directly above the candle's wick. Its placement there seemed almost intentional, and as Cassima was pondering the reason for this, she remembered the flint that she had taken from the room in the tower. She took it out and struck it against the stone. Several sparks pierced the dim light of the corridor, but the candle remained unlit. She tried again and this time, the wick began to burn with a flame that was timid at first, but gradually became bolder and brighter. Cassima lifted the candle from the alcove, held it in front of her and began to make her way down the dark flight of steps.

She soon came to a room that was even more dismal and unwelcoming than the rest of the castle, as impossible as such an idea was. It appeared to be a storeroom that hadn't been maintained in a very long time. Several empty barrels were scattered in the corners, broken wine bottles made walking across the floor hazardous, and out of all the odds and ends in the storeroom, the rats that scurried about in the shadows seemed to be in the best condition, save for one recently dead one lying at the foot of the stairs.

As disgusting as the poor deceased creature was, it gave Cassima an idea: if she couldn't force that snake in the tower out of her way, perhaps she could somehow befriend the snake, or at least convince it not to bite her. Cassima wasn't sure if the adage about the best way to a man's heart being through his stomach applied to snakes, but she was willing to test it using this rat.

She pulled out her scarf (which was becoming quite tattered and dirty, though not quite as filthy as her dress) and used it to pick up the rat's carcass. Then she made her way back up the steps to the main floor of the castle, then up the spiral staircase that led to the top of the tower.

The snake was still coiled on the floor when Cassima entered, and it emitted a threatening hiss when she appeared. The queen quickly unwrapped the rat's body, trying her best not to touch it, then flung the sad thing towards the snake, which snatched it out of the air with lightning speed, then swallowed it whole.

"Splendid rat, stranger," it said. "I've been hungry ever so long. Sorry for attacking you like that, but I've been getting a bit testy lately."

Cassima blinked in surprise.

"Who are you? Why were you hiding under that dresser?"

"I was hiding from that swine Bluebeard, of course. I know the fate that all his wives suffer, so I transformed myself into a snake and hid myself to make him think that I fled his castle. You should definitely do the same – leave, I mean."

"You mean…you're a human?" Cassima asked.

"Of course I am," the snake replied, in a voice that suddenly seemed profoundly feminine to Cassima. "By the way…we haven't met before, have we?"

"I don't think so," Cassima replied. "Bluebeard's gone for the moment, by the way."

"But he will be back soon," the snake hissed, "And if I were you, I'd get out of here post haste!"

Cassima grew quiet and nervous.

"What you were saying about Bluebeard's wives…" she said slowly, "I opened a door with one of these keys that he gave me, and I… I know what happens to them, too."

The snake's narrow eyes grew wide, and her entire body shook.

"You opened that door?" she gasped. "Good lord, you should get out of this place right now if you want to live! The blood that has appeared on the key that opens that door will not go away until you lie dead in that room! I will help you escape, but you have to help me first. Will you?"

"Yes. Of course," Cassima replied.

"Then look under the bed. There is a set of my brother's clothes and a length of rope hidden under it. Take them."

Cassima went over to the canopy bed and knelt down beside it. She reached beneath it and pulled out a coil of rope and a set of oddly flamboyant men's clothes that were bright red and magenta in color. It made Cassima wonder a little about the snake-maiden's brother.

"My brother was the one who brought me here," the snake said as soon as Cassima had risen to her feet. "He managed to secret himself here to make sure I was safe the first two nights, but I'm on my own now. He knows a little magic, so he told me of this snake spell – saying that I could use this form to both hide and defend myself against Bluebeard – and told me to use it as a last resort."

She attempted to shrug – not an easy effort, given her lack of shoulders.

"I guess I was a little too hasty. Anyway, he left me three days ago, and told me that if I ever needed him, he would be waiting at the oasis, and if I needed his help, I would need to signal him with a mirror. Unfortunately, he forgot to tell me the spell which lets me become human again, ergo, I am unable to hold a mirror, let alone one big enough to signal my brother. Do you have a mirror adequate for such a task?"

Cassima held out the large hand mirror she had received from the boy Hans in Serenia.

"Ah, that is an excellent mirror, large and round, perfect for signaling my brother!" the snake hissed excitedly. "Please lift me up so that I can see out the window. I promise not to bite."

Cassima cautiously extended her left hand to the snake. The reptile swiftly wound herself around the queen's arm with an oddly reassuring grip, and Cassima carried the transformed maiden to the window.

"Just turn the mirror towards the oasis and let it catch the sun's light three times," the snake said.

Cassima did this, and a minute or two afterwards, she saw three bright flashes come from one of the buildings.

"That was my brother!" the snake rattled. "He got our signal! You can put me down now, friend."

Cassima tucked the mirror away, bent over and let the snake fluidly slip from her wrist, coming to rest in a coil on the floor.

"Perfect," the snake hissed. "He should be here soon…"

She looked at Cassima with sudden worry etched on her scaly features.

"But Bluebeard might return before my brother arrives just the same. You have to leave this place, friend. Did you get my brother's clothes from under the bed?"

"Yes," Cassima replied, a bit confused by the abrupt segue. "But…what should I do with them?"

"Wear them, of course."

"Me?" Cassima exclaimed. "Wear men's clothes? Why?"

"They are much better suited for an adventurer such as you, my lady," the snake explained. "Also, the only way out of this castle for you is through that window with the aid of that rope you acquired. Not to be rude, but a dress as elegant as that shouldn't be worn during such an endeavor."

Cassima found that she couldn't argue with the creature's logic. Her dress had begun to tear in some places, and it certainly was dirtier than it had ever been before.

"Oh. I see."

"There is a folding screen against that wall," said the reptile, indicating it with the end of her tail. "You can change behind it."

Cassima nodded. The snake politely slithered out of sight beneath the dresser as Cassima pulled out the heavy changing screen, which, judging by the massive quantity of dust upon it, hadn't been used in some time.

The young queen gingerly changed into her new clothes. They had an odd smell and texture, but otherwise, they seemed to fit her almost perfectly. She removed her belongings from the pockets of her dress and transferred them to those of her somewhat baggy trousers, folding her old outfit as carefully as she could and tucking it away as well – she certainly wasn't going to leave it behind.

She then fastened the plain black belt around her waist, and as she was replacing her headdress, she noticed a small red ribbon resting on the floor. Had it fallen from the bundle of clothing? Although it was the same color as the shirt, it didn't seem to have any connection with the other articles she was currently wearing. Then an idea struck her. She took hold of her hair and wrapped the ribbon tightly around it, tying it when all the slack had been taken up. Now her hair wouldn't be able to get in her eyes anymore. She wished she could have felt this prepared when she first set out on this madcap mission.

Cassima refolded the changing screen and informed the snake that she could come out of her hiding place, which she did almost immediately.

"Those clothes fit you marvelously," the snake purred. "I hope they serve you well, my friend. You'd better escape as fast as you can before Bluebeard returns!"

With that, she slipped beneath the dresser once more, leaving Cassima alone, wearing a man's clothes, with only a short time left to escape her own death.

Cassima tied one end of the rope to one of the bedposts with the most complex sailor's knot she could remember. She then tossed the loose end out the window and watched it fall the long distance from the tower to the ground. Gripping the rope as tightly as she could and praying that her grip wouldn't fail her, Cassima swung first one leg, then the other, over the windowsill and began the long climb down. The snake was right: descending this rope would have been nearly impossible in a dress. In this outfit, however, she was able to grip the rope between her legs and move her feet much more nimbly. The climb seemed to take forever, but Cassima eventually felt sand beneath her feet, and she gratefully let go of the rope, which had probably raised several young blisters on her hands.

Suddenly there was a loud screech to her left. Cassima whirled around to see something large moving just around the curve of the tower. It wasn't moving her way, it just seemed to be thrashing about while tethered to a single spot (and making a good deal of noise as well). Cassima cautiously approached whatever the strange thing was. She slowly circled the tower and soon came face to face with it.

It was a huge creature with the head, wings and talons of a bird of prey, while its hindquarters were that of a big cat. Cassima recognized it immediately – it was a griffin. A very angry griffin too, judging by the way it was behaving. It alternately pawed at the air, shrieked like an eagle and snarled like a lion, sometimes making a sound that seemed like a combination of both. Cassima soon realized that it was chained to a metal loop set in a partially buried stone. Bluebeard must have captured it, for reasons that Cassima couldn't begin to fathom.

The thought of Bluebeard almost made her panic. She had to get away from this castle before he returned, but how? Not only that, but where could she go? The chaos and confusion surrounding her imprisonment had put all ideas for possible locations her pendant could transport her to out of her mind.

The powerful physique and broad wings of the griffin made her think that the answer to the "how" of her problem was very close at hand. If she could somehow free the griffin, perhaps it would let her ride it to wherever it intended to go once it escaped. Or perhaps it would just fly off without her, but she was willing to take such a risk. She tried to get a good look at the chain that bound the griffin. It seemed quite unbreakable, but as she observed the beast, she realized that the collar that the chain was tied to wasn't a metal one, but one made out of rope! Why would Bluebeard fetter this griffin with such a flimsy piece of material? Perhaps all of his metal collars were in disrepair, or possibly he figured that the griffin would be so enraged over being captured that it wouldn't even notice that a circle of rope was the only thing standing between it and freedom. Whatever his reason was, Cassima could easily remove that collar…provided she wasn't sliced to pieces by the griffin's claws in the process.

With trepidation, Cassima began to step closer to the griffin. It wasn't as large as it had seemed at first glance – it didn't seem much bigger than a large horse – but Cassima was still quite frightened of it. Everything about it posed some level of danger: its tail could lash out and knock her down, its hind claws could lash out at her, its wings could strike her hard enough to knock the wind out of her, and its gigantic beak and talons could easily make a meal out of her.

With this uncomfortable knowledge in mind, Cassima drew closer and closer to the griffin, trying to calm it with soothing words, which didn't seem to have any effect on it. Strangely, she was able to make it to the griffin's side unscathed, and it stood stock still, panting heavily as she cut its rope collar free with her dagger. Once the collar had come loose, Cassima rapidly stepped away from the griffin and waited to see what its reaction would be to finding itself no longer a captive.

For a moment, the griffin remained motionless, the realization that it was no longer chained not quite registering. Then its yellow eyes moved to the coiled chain lying on the sand, and it reared triumphantly, beating its white wings wildly and letting out a triumphant, deafening screech/roar. When it dropped down on all fours again. It gazed piercingly at Cassima, who suddenly wondered whether the griffin would equate her with the human who captured it and decide to take out its aggressions on her. It didn't, however. Instead, it lowered its foreparts in a sort of bow, letting one wing droop casually to one side, staring at Cassima with an inquisitive, yet oddly expectant air.

Cassima stared back at the griffin, hardly believing what was happening. This griffin was actually inviting her to mount it. It was almost too good to be true…still, it made perfect sense, since Cassima had just freed it and one good turn usually deserved another. She had no reason to think that the griffin meant her any harm. It had had ample opportunities to injure her before, and since it hadn't hurt her then, it probably never would. The concept of riding such a fierce wild beast through the sky was a bit much for Cassima, but she was willing to do almost anything to escape Bluebeard.

She cautiously walked up to the griffin and swung her left leg over its massive side, seating herself just in front of its wings and firmly clutching the white feathers of its neck.

The griffin slowly rose to its full height. It paused briefly, took one mighty bound across the sand, and with a thunderous beat of its gigantic wings, it was airborne.

Once Cassima got used to the rushing wind and the sinking feeling in her stomach, it was actually a very enjoyable ride. The griffin kept on rising higher and higher above the vast desert, its destination unknown to Cassima, but at the moment, she couldn't care less about where they were going. She had entered a land that no human had ever set foot in before, narrowly escaped death, helped an enchanted maiden foil a murderer and liberated a griffin. For the first time during her confusing journey, Cassima began to feel that she had accomplished something worthwhile.

True, she hadn't found Shadrack yet, but she somehow felt that she was heading in the right direction, and if these smaller achievements were just stepping stones leading up to her ultimate goal, then so be it.

Now that she no longer had the danger of death hanging over her head, she was finally able to think clearly. She realized that it had been a long time since she had spoken to her partner who was journeying with her on this strange quest. The last time she had seen Edgar was in the Impossible Mountains. He had headed for his homeland, just as she had, but who could say where he had gone since then?

Before Cassima was about to pull out her pendant and contact him to find out the answer to this question for herself, a familiar face suddenly appeared in front of her own. Apparently, Edgar had decided to contact her first.

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