PRINCE GETHYN STARED at the curving, green-gray stone wall’s ornately carved door. He’d never felt so nervous. Pushing back his long fair hair, he reminded himself to stand tall. “Do you have everything?” asked Rose, the royal sorceress. “Yes,” said Gethyn, showing her a plain linen sack. The “everything” in it wasn’t much: a flask of water and a small oatcake, the only supplies allowed for this day’s historic quest.
Gethyn turned his attention back to the wall. Adventure waited for him behind it, somewhere within the Ancient Oval, an isolated, magical spot. Rose watched over this mysterious place, going in and out often. Gethyn couldn’t recall ever seeing her without its door’s heavy key dangling from her waist-sash. This enchanted key, decorated with a gold-tailed crystal comet, set its own rules, seldom opening the door for others. Today would be the first time Gethyn saw the Oval’s hidden world of merfolk, talking animals, fairies. But, he thought, mine’s no holiday outing.
“Cheer up, Gethyn,” said Clew, Rose’s sparrow-sized scarlet dragon. Clinging to the sorceress’s ivory cloak, he looked like a fantastical enameled brooch come
