Fairy Godmother

mean that his heart is not in his body, so you can only kill him by finding his heart. He is in a new land, so he probably has not yet done anything other than encase it in a diamond and place it somewhere he considers safe, which is usually somewhere near him. I would guess that it is in the throne room, under the throne. If one of you can penetrate the throne room and find the heart and return it to where it belongs, you can kill him. If you can break the diamond and smash the heart, you can kill him. Of course,' he added thoughtfully, 'you'll have to get past his army of creatures first.'

'I'll — ' Alexander began, then stopped at the look on Elena's face. 'Tell me,' he demanded instead.

'Whoever defeats the Katschei and rescues the Princess can't be you,' she said, slowly, 'because The Tradition is very strong in Fleurberg, and Princess Kylia is going to fall in love with the man who rescues her.'

Alexander looked at her for a moment, then licked his lips. 'Then what use am I?' But before she could answer, his face lit up. 'Wait! If I gather the remains of the army and attack the city and the Palace, the Evil Mage will be distracted!'

'And I can go in and try and find his heart,' said Elena. 'But I will need more than a distraction, and someone needs to occupy the Mage in a way that will keep all of his attention elsewhere.' She took a deep breath, and wondered if she could keep her face from showing her pain. 'Champion — '

He straightened, and his entire demeanor changed. He seemed taller, and larger somehow.

'Champion,' she said, knowing that this was the right thing, the only right thing for him as well as for Fleurberg, but feeling her heart whimpering in pain all the same. 'Champion, you must challenge this Evil Mage yourself.'

'Ah.' He took it as she had expected him to; willingly, even eagerly. 'And you, meanwhile, will rescue Kylia, free Julian, and find the heart.'

'Probably not quite in that order, but I think that I have a plan to do that,' she agreed. 'Sergei can take both of us — '

'Sergei can take you, Godmother,' the little horse interrupted. 'Mother and I suspected you were going to do something like this, and I brought one of my brothers.'

He tossed his head up and whinnied shrilly. He was answered by a deeper whinny from up above; there was a clatter of hooves on the roof again, and a second horse leaped down onto the yard, landing as lightly as a swan on the water.

It was a coal-black stallion, as handsome as the humpback horse was homely. His mane and tail swept the ground, rippling like waterfalls of silk, and his coat gleamed like the finest satin, and he was both incredibly graceful and massively muscled. His beautifully formed head turned towards Alexander, and the Prince stepped forward, entranced. 'Don't expect the kind of intelligence and cleverness that I have out of him, but he's loyal as a hound, brave as a lion, strong as a bull, and he can fly, just as I can. Mother says that every Champion needs a proper mount,' said Sergei, eyes glinting with satisfaction. 'So from this moment on, Nightsong is yours.'

From somewhere, Hob came up with what must have been armor meant for a young Elven princeling for Elena. It fit well enough, although her breasts were squashed beneath the breastplate. Still, it was no worse than what the flattening corsets favored in Arachnia's Kingdom of Bretagne did to a woman's breasts, and Elena was not going to complain if it kept her alive — and further, that it made her look like a young man, and kept her from being recognized as a Godmother. They knew from the messenger's story where the window into the dungeon was that he had spoken to Julian through. The Princess's tower had a balcony that Sergei could land on. So there was just one more thing that needed to be arranged.

It would take a lot of magic. She hoped that there was enough still here that it would not seriously deplete her own resources.

Hob's magical game bag could actually hold just about anything put into it. The Katschei's creatures were probably things that could only be harmed by magical weapons; Sergei was not sure on that point, but he agreed that it was likely. So the House-Elves and Alexander stripped every room in the cottage and lodge of anything that was remotely weaponlike, right down to the knives and cleavers in the kitchen; Elena enchanted every one of them with just a touch of magic, enough that they could actually hit a magical creature. Then they were stuffed into the game bag.

When she was done, she had exhausted all of the ambient power that had dropped down around them when The Tradition closed its jaws on them, and every bit of power that the Brownies could spare. She hoped that what she had left was going to be enough, but she knew that she was going to have to be very, very clever with every bit of power left to her.

By sunset, they were as ready as they were ever going to be. Alexander was dancing with impatience, wanting to be off; Elena felt as if her heart was so heavy that Sergei would never be able to fly under the weight of it.

But they had no choice, neither of them. With a last, longing look at the cottage, Elena clambered into Sergei's saddle — ungracefully, for she still had never learned to ride — as Alexander vaulted lightly into his seat on Nightsong's back and accepted his lance from Hob. He looked every inch the Champion, as bold and brave as a legend, and eager to be off. She closed the visor on her helm; his was already down, and she was glad of it, for it would have been much worse if she had been able to see his face with that weight of guilt on her. It was bad enough, knowing that, with the weight of Tradition along with his own eagerness, Alexander's mind, heart, and soul that of a Champion, and if he thought of anything else, it was fleetingly.

'Ready?' he asked, his voice echoing hollowly out of the depths of the helm.

She nodded. Sergei gathered himself beneath her; she clung to the pommel of the saddle with both hands, and the two sons of the East Wind rose on their hind feet and leaped into the blood-red sky.

It was near midnight when they landed amid the dispirited mob that was what was left of Stancia's army. Alexander had made a proper show of it, too, for had anyone been alert or brave enough, it all might have ended