My mother loves my idea. "So we'll need loads of food, the map, and some good climbing clothes," she confirms. I remove my own dark felted boots and place them in front of her, then reach down into my corset and remove my tape measure. I take her measurements so fast that I'm not positive I got them all. I'm thinking sleek, black fabric, like spilled oil. Black satin, maybe. I dart upstairs and get to work. Black satin blouses with tight sleeves, matching trousers with a slight pouf. I have to felt myself a new pair of boots, because I gave her mine. As I sew, I think faster and faster about my idea. What will I tell Everett? How far away is this Mayestika creature? I only have ten days, what if my plan fails and then I have to marry this horror show?

I guess that I fell asleep sewing, because I wake with small dots of blood on my finger. I must have stabbed myself several times in my sleep. I shriek and wipe it off on my trousers. I am squeamish in no regards, but the sight of my own blood scares me. I suck on my finger, and the salty taste brings me back to awareness. I must leave today with my mother. I cannot be afraid, for fear is often what fails a mission. I must grit my teeth and force a smile and keep going. Well, unless I want to marry Everett. Which I do not, unsurprisingly. I change into my black blouse and trousers and boots. I have chosen to forsake a corset today, for it will be easier to climb that way. I pull the bell and, when the maids arrive, give them very specific instructions. "I need foods that will travel well. Traveler's bread; hard cheese; apples and figs; waterskins and wine. Also, I need yogurt; mint; egg whites; garlic. And two bedrolls. These must be delivered to my rooms in a large black sack. You are not to tell the master of the castle any of this, or I will see to it that you are-" I rack my brain for something horrid. "That you are dangled over the moat with day-old stew on your heads."

Day-old stew seems to sound like no idle threat, because the maids dash off fast. The yogurt and garlic and things are for my mother as a precaution in case we run into any scrapes and need a quick heal, and the food is for, well, when we get hungry. I bite my already ragged nails as I worry about what could happen. Everett could catch us, and force me to marry him for my inheritance, and then lock me away forever. He could decide that I wasn't worth the hastle and kill me. He could learn of my plan, stop me from going, and then make life miserable for me. He could send my mother far, far away, or worse! The maids return with a black oilskin sack, filled with the items that I requested. I smile with gratitude and warm, washed-over relief. One of the maids steps forward and curtsies.

She is quite lovely, an energetic sort. She has a handsome, honest face. Her skin is dark and creamy, and her hair is ebony-black and slightly frizzy. Her eyes are a navy blue, and she has a bright, earnest smile. Her dress is the same deep, true blue as her eyes, with a white apron and collar.
"'Scuse me, miss, but what do you need all of this for? I don't suppose that you intend to eat rock-hard traveler's bread with hard cheese and yogurt and garlic for your supper. The name's Hortencia, but you can call me Horty."
Hortencia seems honest and sweet and trustworthy, so I decide to be open with her. "My mother is a healer, and she needs the items. I am going to be in the-" Suddenly, I'm not sure that honesty is always the best policy.
Hortencia smiles, and her teeth are white as pearls. "I swear that I won't tell anyone, miss. You can trust me."
That statement, meant to reassure, puts my guard up all the more. If that is the first conclusion she jumps to about my reticence, she must be hiding something herself. Or perhaps she is just making an astute observation. After all, I can feel that I have tensed up, and my face is wobbling from its stern expression. I spill the figurative beans.
"I am leaving tonight to try and find Mayestika Rolutha, the ancient first Rider Dragon. If I can find the dragon, I can prevent Everett's war and I will not have to marry him." Wow, that plan sounds rather incomplete when I lay it all out like that. My stomach feels as though Mayestika Rolutha is stampeding about in it. Hortencia gives me a toothy grin and curtsies again. She and the rest of the maids back out of the room, curtsying all the way to the door. I add my handful of Halopods to my sack. As soon as the maids exit, I sling the sack over my shoulder and slide the door open gently. The last thing I want is to be caught by Everett. I check each corner and hallway, see that all are clear, and then break into a run. Left, right, straight ahead, jump on the alchemic lift, left, right, left, left, and there's my mother's cell. She beams so brightly at me that I can feel the warmth from her smile. I guess that I would feel the same if I were just leaving my jail cell for the first time in eleven years.

"Are you ready, Lore?"
I nod. "As ready as I will ever be." The truth is, I have a burning desire to get out of here. I don't want to show it, for fear that my mother will worry about my safety and health here.
She grabs my arm. "Then let's go! I can't wait to get out of this mouldering horror."
She slips into the climbing clothes that I sewed for her, and then she leads me out of her cell and deeper into the dungeons. "This is the wrong way, Mother!" I note, but she keeps winding through. She stops at the last cell in the corridor and pulls open the door. "Here we are," she says, opening the door. Inside, a massive crater-like hole is in the wall. Outside is air. Cool, fresh, free air just meters away!
"This," my mother says like a proud parent, "was the prison cell of Armand Venuocia. He was taken by the Prince Everett's brother Elangio because he was in love with the princess that Elangio intended to marry. He was scheduled to be executed one month from his arrival, so every day he chipped out a few bricks. He escaped, and now he is married to the Princess Avangelina Tuderchkey of Dremaene. Elangio was exiled from Green Dragon, and last time I checked he was married to a fruit merchant with a stiff leg. Armand Venuocia is a role model and a legend, and I find it amazing that he was in this dungeon at the same time I was."

I laugh, and then take a cautious step out of the hole. It isn't as though I have not been outdoors in all of my time here. At least once a week, I take tea with Everett on the lawn. But that is still contained air, stiff, with no room for running wild. There are no air vents or windows in the castle itself, so I had to dream of the weather. I am not sure how long I spent in the castle, but every second seems like too long. The air outside of the dungeon seems purely saturated with sunlight. I take another cautious step, careful not to stumble on the edge of the hole. I touch the prickly grass, which has not been cut for a long time and has grown rather weedy. My mother fairly jumps from the opening, landing with a whump on the grass. She cackles in exhiliration. As grubby as she may look, she is a queen and a beautiful woman and, more importantly, my mother. She removes her boots and skips about barefoot, giggling like a child. As much as I want to leave this place behind forever, there is no way that I could pull her away. This is her victory, and this is her special opportunity to revel in that.