Grim

THE RAVEN PRINCESS by Jon Skovron

The princess wouldn’t stop crying. The queen had fed her and changed her diaper. She didn’t know what else to do.

“I can host a banquet for a hundred lords and ladies. But what do I know about babies?” The nanny had asked for the day off and now the queen regretted letting her have it.

The princess stood at the edge of the crib, howling at the top of her lungs. Tears and snot ran down her plump face as she reached out with wet slobbery fingers.

“What do you want?!” The queen gripped the edge of the crib hard. She wanted to shake the ungrateful little creature until she stopped.

No, she would never do that. But she felt trapped by the tiny, impossible thing who shrieked mindlessly at her. She moved to the other side of the room, turned her back on the princess and took a slow breath.

The coarse call of birds cut through the princess’s cries. The queen looked out the window and spied a flock of ravens. She had always found the raven’s caw grating and distasteful, but right now, it seemed preferable to the endless wail of the little brat. As she watched them wheel slowly up into the sky, she said out loud:

“I wish you would just fly away with those ravens.”

The crying stopped and silence fell suddenly in the room. The queen turned around, half expecting to find the child passed out from exhaustion. But the princess stood in her crib, her eyes wide. Her little bow mouth was quirked in the corners, as if she had just taken a bite of something and its flavor surprised her. She sat down hard and let out a cough that sounded strangely like the caw of a raven.

“My darling.” Fear crept into the queen’s chest. “What’s wrong?”

The princess looked up and her bright blue eyes slowly filled with blackness until even the whites were gone.

“Oh, God,” whimpered the queen.

Thick black hairs began to sprout on the princess’s arms, legs and face. No, not hairs. Feathers.

“Please,” whispered the queen. “I didn’t mean...”

The princess opened her mouth wide and made a gagging sound until a black, curved beak emerged and her lips peeled back into nothing. Her legs grew thinner, then, with a loud crack, suddenly bent in the wrong direction, as her feet curled in like claws. Her body shrank into her white dress until the queen could no longer see her.

“My darling?”

A raven’s head poked out from the dress. The bird shook herself as she untangled her wings from the dress. She hopped up onto the edge of the crib, black claws digging into the wood. She regarded the queen for a moment, her head cocked to one side. Then she let out a harsh caw and flew past the queen and out the open window.

The queen never spoke of what happened that day. It was thought that the princess had been abducted by mercenaries or brigands. The king searched everywhere, but didn’t find her. As the years went on, the queen’s secret shame aged her into a crone before her time. Finally one night she could no longer bear it, and left the castle without a word. The king did not search for her.

The young man was not a good hunter. He had some skill with a bow when the target was a bull’s-eye, but he simply could not bring himself to shoot a living thing. His parents had sent him away in disgust, and none of the village girls showed any interest in him. So he lived alone in a small cottage in the forest, where he ate berries and the vegetables he grew in his small garden.

The young man would have been content to live this way, except he was lonely. He hoped that if he conquered his fear of hunting, he might finally catch a girl’s eye. So one morning he set out into the forest, resolving not to return until he had made a kill.

First he came across a deer. But he was so petrified, he could not move until it was out of sight. Later, he spied a badger waddling along. But his hands shook so badly that by the time he was able to nock an arrow, the badger had slipped down into its hole. He cursed himself, wondering how he could be so cowardly.

Finally, near sunset, he spied a lone raven standing on an outcropping of rock in a small clearing. Ravens were loathsome animals, eaters of the dead and dying, and harbingers of bad luck. The world would be a better place with one less raven. He quietly set an arrow and drew back on the bowstring. This time, he would claim his place as a man.

But the instant before he released the arrow, the raven turned to look at him and cocked its head in such a curious, intelligent way that the young man flinched and the arrow flew wide, embedding itself in a tree five feet away.

“That,” remarked the raven, “was a terrible shot.”

“Luckily for you,” said the young man. Then his eyes grew wide. “You speak!”

“Truly,” said the raven. “I have seen boys of ten and old men shaky with weariness who had better aim.”

“Amazing! I nearly kill a magic talking raven and he criticizes me for not piercing his breast with a wooden shaft.”

“I am not a ‘he,’” said the raven, feathers ruffling. “And I’ll thank you not to talk so casually about my breasts.”

“My apologies, Lady Raven,” said the young man with a slight bow. He slowly walked out into the clearing. “But I must know, how is it you talk?”

“Because I am not really a raven, but a maiden princess under a curse. Now I must know, how is it you are such a terrible marksman?”

“I happen to be an excellent marksman!”

“Oh?” The raven turned toward where the arrow was still embedded deep in the bark. “Were you hunting trees today, then?”

The young man sighed and shook his head. “My aim fails me the moment I target a living thing.”

“And why is that?”

He thought about it a moment, then finally said, “I don’t know.”

“Could it be that you are afraid to kill?”

“Well, that would be an unfortunate trait in a hunter.”

“Indeed. You would have been better off born to a shoemaker or a tailor, perhaps.”

“We cannot choose who we are born to.”

“Truly.” The raven turned away and raised her wings to take flight.

“Please don’t go yet!” said the young man. “Meeting you is the most interesting thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Unsurprisingly.”

“Won’t you tell me of your curse?”

She lowered her wings. She did not turn back around, but craned her head toward him.

“I have been cursed like this since I was but a year old.”

“And how old are you now?”

“Seventeen.”

“That is terrible!” said the young man. “Is there no way to break this curse?”

The raven turned back all the way around to face him. “There is. Why, would you be willing to attempt it?”

“Of course!” Then he looked suddenly hesitant. “That is...if it is within my ability.”

“You wouldn’t have to kill.”

“Then yes, I would consider it a privilege. What must I do?”

“On the edge of this forest, a small house sits next to a crossroads. By the house is a pile of wood chips. Sit upon that pile and wait for me. The curse allows me to appear in my true form for one hour every night at midnight. I will come for you, and if you are awake when I arrive, the curse will be broken.”

“That doesn’t seem so hard.”

“Beware,” said the raven. “There is an old woman who lives in the house. She will try to give you food and drink. But if you accept it, you will not be able to stay awake that night.”

“Hunger and thirst are not new to me,” said the young man. “I will prevail easily.”

“I am not so sure of that,” said the raven.

The young man hiked through the darkening forest and arrived at the cottage just as the sun slid behind the tree line. The cottage was even smaller and coarser than his own. The walls were made of stacked logs sealed with mud, and the hay thatched roof looked rotten in places. The young man felt sorry for the old woman who lived there, whoever she was.

He found a bed of oak chips by the side of the house, just as the raven had described. It wasn’t very comfortable, but he thought that might help him stay awake. So he sat down and waited.

Darkness had fallen when the old woman emerged from the cottage, holding a lantern. She had a gentle smile, and eyes that were warm yet sad.

“A guest!” Her voice was as soft as worn velvet. “Oh, how wonderful!” She came over and held out the lantern to look at him. “Handsome face. A little thin and pale, though. You could do with a bit of meat.”

“It has been a long time since I have eaten meat,” he admitted.

“Well, you are in luck, then, my boy. I have a nice fat rabbit turning on the spit. Far too much for me to eat. Won’t you come inside and share it?”

“It’s generous of you, but I must remain out here until after midnight.”

“Ah, the old legend of the Raven Princess, eh?”

“Old legend? Have others tried to break the curse before me?”

“Of course! And who can blame them! According to the legends, her beauty is like no other.”

“I had not heard of her beauty,” he said.

“Oh? Then why do you sit here?”

“So that she may be free of the curse.”

“And that is all?”

“Should there be more?”

She smiled briefly. “I suppose not. Now, won’t you come in and share supper with me? It is still several hours until midnight. You would be able to return to this spot in plenty of time.”

“I thank you for your hospitality, but I cannot.”

Her face grew suddenly sad. “I understand. What is the company of a poor old woman when there is the promise of a beautiful princess.”

“Please, that isn’t what I meant....”

But she turned and slowly walked back into the cottage as if she hadn’t heard him.

As he sat on the woodpile, he thought of her, eating alone inside. He had eaten many meals alone and knew how it felt. The silence broken only by one’s own chewing. How many meals had she taken in solitude? How many more lay before her, an unbroken line stretched out until her life ended?

The old woman came out sometime later. In her hands she held a cup that steamed in the cold night air.

“I am sorry for what I said earlier,” she said. “It was unfair. You are doing a noble thing, helping to break the princess’s curse.”

“I am sorry that I cannot accept your hospitality.”

She smiled and held out the cup to him. “I have made you some tea.”

“I must decline even this. I was told I cannot accept any food or drink, or else I would fall asleep and miss the princess when she arrives.”

“If it were wine, that would be true. But tea will help keep you awake.”

“Tea usually does fresh me,” he admitted.

She held out the cup. “Please, I will feel much better if you take it.”

He smiled as he took the cup. “Thank you.”

Then he drank.

An hour later, a black coach pulled by two black horses approached the cottage at the crossroads. The coach slowed to a halt and the princess emerged. Her skin was as pale as moonlight. Her curly black hair, as rich as the night sky, was piled up high above her luminous face. As she stepped down to the ground in elegant pointed boots, her black-feathered cloak rustled quietly.

She looked down with eyes that sparkled like stars at the young man sleeping in the woodpile. She placed a pale hand on the horse’s sweat-lathered neck, stroking the black fur.

“I knew he would fail,” she said, her soft red lips expressionless.

As soon as the first rays of dawn woke the young man, he cried out in anguish.

The old woman came running out of the cottage, her shawl clutched around her shoulders.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I slept through midnight! I missed the princess!”

“But how? You seemed wide-awake when I left you last night.”

“I don’t know. It must have been the tea.”

“Tea never makes one sleep.”

“When dealing with curses, it may be that normal rules don’t apply.”

She laid a hand on his shoulder. “I am sorry you didn’t see your princess. Will you come inside and break your fast?”

“No. I must try again tonight,” he said.

The young man sat on the pile of wood chips all that day, while the hot sun bore down on him. He hadn’t eaten since the morning of the day before and had had nothing to drink since the small cup of tea the night before. He felt as if he were baking in the sun, and his mouth tasted like bile and ash.

Once night fell, the old woman emerged from her cottage.

“Here.” She held out a mint leaf.

“No,” he said hoarsely. “I cannot.”

“But this isn’t food. You don’t even need to swallow it. What if the princess wishes to bestow a kiss upon her rescuer? I fear you would offend her with your breath.”

“Is it...really that bad?”

She nodded gravely.

“I will chew it. But I will not swallow.”

He took the leaf from her with a trembling hand and placed it on his dry tongue. At once, cool sharp relief engulfed his mouth. He chewed slowly, carefully, savoring it with eyes closed, before he spit it into the handkerchief she offered him.

“Thank you,” he said.

Again the black coach appeared just after midnight. And again the princess looked down at the sleeping young man, her expression unreadable.

“I knew he would fail again,” she said.

Then a different voice said, “Must we continue with this charade?”

“Yes,” said the princess.

“But it only brings you suffering.”

The princess looked up at the star-speckled sky. “No matter what choices we make in life, suffering is always a part of what follows.”

The next morning when the young man woke, he didn’t cry out. In fact, he barely moved.

“Will you come inside and take some food now?” asked the old woman.

“I must try again,” he said in a croaking voice.

She stared down at him, biting her lip. Then she turned and went inside.

He lay on the pile all that day, at times not even remembering why he was there. At last night came. The old woman came out of her cottage holding a steaming bowl.

“You will die out here waiting for your legendary princess.” There were tears in her eyes. “I cannot bear it. Please eat!”

She held out the bowl of warm stew.

“Get away!” His voice was harsh, and there was a snarl on his lips. “You will not tempt me! You who have made me fail each night. Perhaps it is on purpose, eh? For all I know, you are the witch who cursed her in the first place. You old hag, you will not trick me again!”

She looked at him, tears streaming down her face. She placed the bowl on the ground and returned to her cottage.

The moment the door closed behind her, the young man regained his senses. What had he just done? He hadn’t even known he was capable of such harsh words, and he had unleashed them on a kind old woman who had been trying to save his life.

He stumbled to his feet.

“Wait! I’m sorry!”

Maybe there was no princess. Maybe he had imagined it all and would die waiting. Or even if there was a princess, was she worth turning himself into a beast to save her?

“Please, I’m so sorry!” He took a step toward the cottage, but then his strength gave way and he fell. He lay there for a moment, half on the wood chips, half in the grass. Then he smelled the stew. He turned his head. The bowl was just within reach.

What did it matter? Even if she was real, and even if she was worth it, then certainly he was not. He was foolish. He was fearful. And he was weak.

He gulped down the stew, and no sooner had he put the bowl down then he fell fast asleep.

The raven princess gently placed her cool white hand on the young man’s cheek.

“I knew he would fail the third and final time,” she said.

“He is weak,” said the old woman, her voice no longer soft or sweet.

“What you call weakness, I call kindness,” said the princess. “I think he is worthy, Mother.”

“We shall see,” said the queen. “I hope for your sake, and for his, that you are right.”

At first, the young man couldn’t remember why it was he found himself lying on a pile of wood chips by a crossroads. Then he saw the cottage and remembered the crying old woman, and it all came back to him. He had failed the princess, just as he failed at everything else in his life. But perhaps he could at least make it up to the old woman. He rose stiffly and walked over to the cottage.

“Hello?” There was no answer. “Old woman, are you there?”

He knocked on the door and it slowly swung open.

“Hello?”

The cottage was empty. The floor and walls were bare. A thick layer of dust covered everything. He stepped away from the cottage, not sure what to make of this.

Then he saw a small sack by the woodpile that he hadn’t noticed before. It was pinned shut with a single long black feather. He ran to it and carefully opened the sack with trembling fingers. Inside, he found a cured ham, a wineskin, a gold ring and a letter.

The letter said: You have failed me three times, gentle huntsman. But take heart, for the purpose of these challenges was not to win, but to show one’s character. Your resolve was impressive, but not half so impressive as your generosity of spirit. You would rather fail than be unkind to another person. This, more than anything, gives me hope that you truly will be able to lift my curse. Now you must find me at the Golden Castle of Stromberg and persuade the one who keeps me there to release me.

Enclosed with this letter, you will find a ham and wineskin. They are both enchanted by your generous spirit and will never run out. I have also included a ring, which has my name engraved on the inside. Keep it as a symbol of my faith that you can accomplish the difficult task before you.

The young man held up the ring, and in the gleaming light of the sun, he saw the name of the Raven Princess.

He didn’t know where the Golden Castle of Stromberg was, but he had the endless ham and wine to keep strength in his body, and the ring to keep strength in his spirit. So he began to walk.

He went deeper into the forest until there was not even a woodcutter’s path to follow and he had to force his way through the undergrowth. But then he came upon a wide straight path. He made good use of it, but all the while wondered how it had come to be there. He discovered the reason the next morning when he woke to find a giant staring down at him.

“It is fortunate that I have come upon you, little man.” The giant’s shaggy hair and beard were a golden-yellow. “I have not yet had my breakfast and you will make a tasty morsel.”

“If it is food you seek, I have plenty to spare!” said the young man quickly.

The giant raised a bushy blond eyebrow. “Enough to satisfy my hunger?”

“Enough to satisfy a family of giants.”

“Is that so?” The giant sat down, causing nearby tree branches to shake. “If you can truly satisfy my hunger, then I will have no need to eat you.”

So they ate and drank. After a little while, their bellies were full of meat and their faces were flushed with wine.

“What brings you out here to these dark woods?” asked the giant.

“I am on a quest, I suppose.”

“A quest, by God!” In his enthusiasm, the giant slapped the ground and the sound echoed like thunder. “What are you questing for?”

“I must find the Golden Castle of Stromberg to free a princess from a curse.”

“Ah. She must be a real beauty.”

“I have never seen her true form, since the curse has turned her into a raven.”

“She must be rich and powerful, then.”

“She never mentioned riches or power to me.”

“Then what do you hope to gain?”

“Gain?” The young man frowned thoughtfully. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Then why are you risking your tiny little life for her?”

“Because before this quest, risking my life was not risking much. Because for the first time, I feel I have an interesting life. Is that not reward enough?”

The giant grinned, showing white teeth. “I am grateful for your hospitality, and your words have moved me. Come with me to my castle. I have many maps both new and old. We will find this golden castle of yours.”

“I would be grateful for any assistance you can provide.”

The giant placed the young man on his shoulder and began to walk. Now that the young man was above the tree line, he could see that it was a bright, sunny day. The forest stretched out in every direction, and off in the distance, he saw the white peaks of snow-covered mountains.

“There, you see?” The giant pointed a finger at a mountain. “My home.”

The young man didn’t understand at first. But when they were only about a mile or so off, he realized the “mountain” was much too uniform to be natural. It was instead a castle whose spires reached so high into the sky that snow gathered at their tops.

Once they reached the castle, the giant strode into the main hall, which was lit by torches as big as houses. The giant set the young man down on a dark wood table that was so long, he could scarcely see the other end of it.

“Where do you find trees large enough to make a table of this size?”

The giant laughed. “Do you think the whole world is your size? In the land I come from, everything is to my scale. Now, let’s see about those maps.”

They spent hours sorting through maps. Some were brightly colored and marked with the modern names of towns and roads. Others were faded, and had names that the young man had never heard of. But none of them showed the Golden Castle of Stromberg.

“Are those all the maps you have?” asked the young man.

“Those are all the maps that I know of.” The giant carefully rolled up a crinkled old sheet. “But my mate may have others stowed away somewhere.”

“You have a mate?”

“Of course. This is a rather large home for only one person.”

“I didn’t know giants had mates.”

“You are a kind and generous person, and I like you a lot,” said the giant. “But we could fill this castle ten times over with the things you do not know.”

It was shortly after sunset when a second giant arrived at the castle. The mate was slim and pale, with a long face and hair as white as snow. The young man had not expected the mate to be male, but having already been chastised for his ignorance, he was careful not to seem surprised. Then he noticed what the white-haired giant carried in his hand, and he couldn’t help blurting out, “Is that a human baby?”

The white-haired giant looked down at the young man, then at the other giant, arching a thin white eyebrow.

“I have taken a liking to this human,” said the yellow-haired giant. “I promised we would help him in his quest.”

“I see....” The white-haired giant turned back to the young man. “Yes, you are correct. This is a human infant who has come under our protection.”

“You aren’t going to eat it, then?”

“No. Definitely not.” He turned back to the yellow-haired giant.

“Eh, I may have threatened to eat him when we first met. Just a bit.”

“Ah.” The white-haired giant turned back to the young man. “Since adopting this orphaned baby, we are both on a strict nonhuman diet. But...some of us are finding it difficult to stick to the regimen. Now, what is this quest of yours?”

“I seek to break a curse put upon a princess held at the Golden Castle of Stromberg.”

“None of my maps have found the location,” said the yellow-haired giant.

The white-haired giant’s eyes scanned the pile of rolled-up maps. “No, I expect not. These are all local maps. If memory serves, the place you seek is far from here.” He carefully handed the baby to the yellow-haired giant, then left the room.

The yellow-haired giant stared down at the sleeping baby in his hand with a peaceful smile on his bearded lips. Then he glanced over at the young man, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Parenthood changes you,” he said.

“I expect it would,” said the young man.

The white-haired giant returned with an old map that looked like it had been chewed by both rats and insects. He laid it out on the table and pointed. “Here it is.”

The young man jogged across the map to examine the spot. “And where are we?”

The white-haired giant pointed to a spot on the other side of the map.

“And how far is that?”

“Fifty leagues or so.”

“That far?”

The yellow-haired giant cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at his mate. “It’s my turn with the baby, so...”

The white-haired giant sighed and turned back to the young man. “I suppose I could take you there.”

“That would be very kind of you,” said the young man. “Please accept this gift in return. It is a cured ham that will never run out.”

“A generous gift,” said the white-haired giant. “And one which might help us stick to our nonhuman diet.”

“Then I am all the more pleased to give it to you.”

“Let’s be off, then,” said the white-haired giant. “I do not care to be long away from my family.”

The young man sat on the white-haired giant’s shoulder as they moved through the dark forest. This giant moved faster and more quietly than his mate, so that the young man almost felt like he was flying through the night sky. Going this speed made the world seem smaller somehow, and travel to faraway places more possible. The young man thought how much he would like to see the land of the giants and perhaps even other, stranger places.

At last, as dawn broke on the horizon, the white-haired giant pointed.

“Look. Do you see it? The Castle of Stromberg.”

The castle’s towers rose just above the tree line. The new-risen sun flashed off its golden walls.

“I must leave you here and get back to my family,” said the giant. “The map spoke of a key needed to get into the castle.” He held out his massive hand and in the center was a tiny human handkerchief. “This key.”

The young man took the handkerchief and unrolled it. Inside he found a small wooden stick about the length and thickness of his little finger.

“This is a key?”

“Apparently,” said the giant. He carefully placed the young man on the ground, then stood back up. “Farewell, little human. May we meet again.” Then he turned and strode off the way he had come, the early-morning light sparkling in his white hair.

The castle sat on top of a mountain made of smooth glass. When the young man saw this, he began to lose heart because it looked impossible to climb. But then he put his hand in his pocket, and next to the cloth-wrapped key, he felt the princess’s ring and he knew there had to be a way. So he circled the base, looking for a path of some kind.

Then he caught the scent of roasting meat. He hadn’t eaten since the previous day, so he followed the smell until he came upon three men hunched over a fire.

“Hello!” he called. “Do you have any food to spare? I can trade you for some wine.” He held up his wineskin.

The three men eyed him warily. They were dressed mostly in furs, and they were heavily armed.

“What sort of man travels with wine and no food?” asked the largest of the three men.

“I gave the last of my food to a friend.”

“Then you are a fool,” said the man. The others laughed.

“Perhaps,” said the young man. “But my folly is your gain. You must be fine hunters, for you have quite a lot of game. But you have nothing to wash it down with.”

“Yours seems a small skin for four men.”

“Trust me, it will more than quench your thirst.”

The large man looked at the others and they shrugged. “All right, then. Come and sit with us.”

The young man sat down next to the fire and offered the wineskin to the large man. “I had not expected there to be anyone else trying to get into the castle.”

The man swished the wine around in his mouth and smiled appreciatively. “It’s a tough nut to crack, to be sure.” He handed the skin to a scar-faced fellow next to him.

The scar-faced man took a drink, then nodded. “But with the right tools, anything is possible.”

“What tools are those?” asked the young man.

“Well...” said the third man. His pinched face looked distrustful. But then he took a drink of wine and his expression softened a little. “We have a cloak that makes you invisible and a pair of boots that are enchanted to walk up any surface, even one as smooth as glass.”

“That’s great!” said the young man as he took his turn to drink. “We can help each other, then. I have no way to reach the castle, but...” He pulled the cloth from his pocket and held it up. “I do have the key to unlock the door once we reach the top.”

“Is that so?” The large man took a long drink of wine. “Maybe we can help each other out, then.”

“What do you need an invisibility cloak for, though?” asked the young man.

The scar-faced man laughed and took another drink. “You’ve got a sense of humor on you. I like it.”

“You...do seek an audience with the princess, don’t you?” asked the young man.

The pinch-faced man took a drink, grinning as he wiped his chin with his sleeve. “Sure, sure. An audience with her riches. After I cut her throat.” Then he handed the wineskin to the young man.

The young man lifted the wineskin to his lips, but this time he did not actually drink.

“Do you think there is a lot of treasure up there?” he asked as he handed the skin to the large man.

“They say there are rooms so filled with gold and jewels that you can’t find the floor.” He took another long drink.

“Is that so? Tell me more.”

And so they passed the wineskin around many more times. Each time, the young man only pretended to drink. Soon the three thieves began to slur their speech and finally to nod off. When he was sure they were all asleep, the young man hid their weapons. Then he opened their bags and searched for the enchanted items.

He found the invisibility cloak first. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it, rough and porous. He found the boots soon after. They looked old, the leather raw and stained, but they had a strange wet sheen to the bottom. He placed them on the glass surface of the mountain and they held fast.

In place of the cloak and boots, he left the wineskin. He didn’t like to steal, even from murderers. Then he put on the boots and began to climb the glass mountain.

The sun reflected off the glass surface with a harsh glare that nearly blinded him. With his added weight, the boots held the slick surface for only a few seconds, so he could not rest as he hiked up the steep incline. It took him the rest of the day, but at last he reached the top, exhausted.

By then it was dark, and the golden castle glinted mutely in the moonlight. He took only a moment to catch his breath before approaching the door. He intended to break this curse tonight.

But when he drew the cloth from his pocket and unrolled it, the key wasn’t there. It must have fallen out when he showed it to the thieves. He could not go back down to retrieve it now. They would probably be awake and eager for revenge.

He banged on the door and shouted until his hand was numb and his throat was sore. But there was no answer. He looked up at the moon and saw that it was nearly midnight.

Maybe he could make another key. After all, the first one didn’t even have teeth. He looked around for something he could fashion into the length and thickness of his little finger. But there were no trees, sticks or even rocks. The glass ground was completely bare.

He looked at the keyhole in the door. He looked at the moon. It was midnight. He looked at his hand. At his little finger.

He inserted his little finger into the keyhole. Nothing happened, so he slowly rotated it. He felt a slight pressure close on his finger. Then there was a sudden clang, and the door opened. His hand came free, covered in blood.

He stood there and stared at the stump where his little finger had been. A bit of white bone poked out from the ragged clump of red-oozing skin and meat. His vision narrowed and it became hard to breathe. He fought against the dark numbness that tried to take him, as he tried to think of a way to stop the bleeding. He looked down and saw that he still held the cloth that the key had come in. He wrapped it around his hand and abruptly the pain vanished and the bleeding stopped. He tied the cloth off with one hand and his teeth so that it stayed in place.

He looked cautiously through the open doorway. It seemed warm and clean inside, with fine tapestries and rugs. But now the young man was not as inclined to trust its safety, so he pulled the invisibility cloak over himself as he stepped inside.

He wandered for a little while through the empty halls of the castle until he heard two voices. He recognized one as the old woman from the cottage, except her tone was now harsh and bitter. Could it be she had deceived him and was the one keeping the princess here?

Then he heard the other voice. It sounded sharp and sweet, like a ripe apple, and it beckoned to him. He drew his invisibility cloak tightly around himself and crept closer.

He came upon a dining room. At one end of the table was the old woman, except now instead of peasant clothes, she wore a gown fit for a queen.

“Where is your hero, then?” she asked. “Dead, I suppose. What a waste.”

The woman at the other end of the table was the loveliest person the young man had ever seen. Her large blue eyes were as clear as a summer sky, and her pale face as gentle as a spring rain. She wore a black feathered gown, and the young man’s heart leaped, for he knew this must be the Raven Princess. As he moved quietly over to her side, her scent, like a crisp evening autumn breeze, filled him with longing. He dropped the ring she had given him into her golden wine goblet and it gave a soft ping.

Her eyes widened and a slow smile spread across her face.

“It appears you are wrong, Mother,” said the princess. “Gentle huntsman, please reveal yourself.”

The young man pulled off his cloak.

The queen looked at him in surprise. “My God, I don’t believe it. He made it.” She glanced at his bandaged hand. “Or most of him, anyway.”

“I have,” said the young man. “And even if you are her mother, you will not prevent me from breaking her curse.”

“Prevent you?” asked the queen. “Why would I do that?”

“Aren’t you keeping her here against her will?”

The queen laughed bitterly. “Getting her to do anything against her will? That’ll be the day.”

“But...”

“Your confusion is understandable,” said the princess. “It was indeed my mother who cursed me all those years ago. But she has sorely repented and dedicated her life to making up for her accidental misdeed.”

“Then...who keeps you here?” asked the young man.

“She keeps herself here,” said the queen.

“This is the only place where the curse can be broken,” said the princess. “So I kept myself here, hoping for your arrival.”

“So how do we break it?”

“Only she can do that,” said the queen. “She must want it broken with her whole heart.”

The young man turned back to the princess. “Don’t you want the curse broken?”

She took his good hand and cupped it between her own. “I have lived most of my life as a raven. The thought of never again soaring through the air was too much for me to bear. I hoped that the right man would give me enough reason to leave it behind.”

“And...has it?”

Her clear blue eyes looked into his. “You are a magnificent man, full of hidden strength. You have shown yourself to be brave and gentle. But even so, I find I cannot relinquish the wonder of flight.”

The queen made a noise of disgust. “Even after all this? You’re hopeless.”

“Then if you love being a raven,” said the young man, “why would you seek to break the curse at all?”

She smiled at him then, but the sadness in her eyes was as deep as the ocean. “Because I am lonely. Other ravens, real ravens, know that I am not like them, and they shun me. I am alone, like no other in this world.”

The young man gazed down at the enchanted cloth wrapped around his maimed hand. Terrible things had happened to him on this quest, it was true. But wondrous things, as well. It was as he had told the yellow-haired giant. This quest had given his life meaning. And now that he had seen some of the strange, fantastic things out in the larger world, he knew he wanted to see more.

“Would it be possible for another to share this curse with you?” he asked.

“Only if that person truly desired it with their whole heart,” said the princess. “And who would do that?”

“If one could fly,” he said, “there would be no limit to the places one could reach, the lands one could explore.”

“That is true....”

“I have heard that far away, there is a land of giants. Can you believe it?”

“I can.”

“And if that is possible, what else might be possible out there in the wide world?”

“I have heard there are many marvels in store for those with the courage and desire to share them.”

“And do you have the courage and desire to share them?” asked the young man. “With me?”

The princess smiled. “I do.”

“Then I wish with all my heart that I could fly away with you as a raven.”

So the queen was witness to another transformation, just as strange and gruesome as the first. But this one did not fill her with horror. And when it was done, she looked at the two proud ravens, their feathers glistening green-black and blue-black as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Where shall we go first?” asked the female raven.

“There is a family I met along the way,” said the male raven. “I would love for you to meet them.”

“Let us be off, then,” said the female raven. “Try to keep up.”

Then the two flew out through the window, circling high up into a sky that was pink and warm with the sunrise.

* * * * *