Chance and I talked about superficial things during the ride—final exams, Twenty-Three Skidd, processed cheese vs. melted cheese on nachos—light topics. It was too hard to talk about anything in-depth since the wind made it difficult to hear one another at times, but I was glad for the conversation. It made me feel less weird about holding onto him for that long.
Eventually we crossed the border into Salinas and the kingdom’s downtown area came into view. Salinas didn’t have a lot of tall buildings, but downtown they were painted bright colors like flowers in springtime and outlined with neon lights in equally bright shades. I thought that’s where we were going. Then Chance signaled Lucky and we veered away from the city and headed for a series of hills surrounded by a string of vibrantly lit village homes.
“I hope you don’t mind an uphill climb,” he said. “I came here earlier in the week with Lucky and arranged for someone to watch him in the village.”
“Uh, okay,” I responded.
We landed Lucky by a peach-colored ranch house with a low red-tiled roof, a backyard full of hay and chickens, and flamboyant lanterns hanging from every vantage point.
A brown-skinned man waited for us in the yard. He was short like a troll and had the face of one too—but not in a bad way. He had pudgy cheeks, a twinkle in his eyes, two gold teeth, and a general gussiness that made him seem wise, mysterious, and like he probably knew a lot of riddles.
“Hey, Tulio,” Chance called. “Thank you for letting us park at your house.”
Tulio’s home, like many of the adjacent ones, bustled with activity—families prepping, eating, or cleaning up dinner. Kids played in the yards. The air smelled like bread and tomato-based sauces. The streets themselves were relatively empty, save for a boy with a goat on a leash and a pair of elderly women walking with baskets full of fruit on their heads. However, I noticed several couples walking up a hill toward a forest on top.
“This is Javier’s home,” Chance explained as we dismounted. “His Uncle Tulio lives with him and his mom. Javier and I have become friends in the last few months. He really gave me a chance when I made it clear I was trying to change. Anyway, Tulio agreed to watch Lucky tonight.”
I gave Chance a look. I never really knew if he had friends. He used to be so annoying, and kind of a bully as a result of his high sense of superiority, so I assumed most guys felt about him the way Daniel did—not a fan. It was nice to know other guys liked him, at least now anyway.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking Tulio’s hand.
He nodded and smiled but didn’t say anything. From a satchel draped across his shoulders, he removed an extremely large raw steak, which he tossed to Lucky. My pet could not have been more delighted and swallowed it in a single bite.
“He should fall asleep in a few minutes,” Chance told the caretaker. “Thanks again, Tío Tulio.”
“Muy bien,” Tulio replied. Then without the fear that normal people tended to have, he went right underneath Lucky’s arm and began scratching him. Lucky’s head perked up for a second, then he flopped onto his side with a mighty kerplopp.
“Tulio has a way with animals,” Chance said.
“I’ll say,” I replied. “Bye, Lucky.” I waved at my dragon, but he barely acknowledged me. He was too preoccupied with the attention he was receiving.
We headed out of Tulio’s yard and down the street to the large hill.
“So this is why you told me to wear comfortable shoes?” I asked. “For this climb?”
“Not exactly,” Chance said, that same sly grin returning to his lips.
We ascended the hill and with every step the night solidified. However, when we neared the crest of the hill, the darkness lessened. When we reached the top I discovered why. Ahead, amongst the woods in front of a gathering of couples, stood a tree. It was large and black with roots the size of Lucky’s neck that twisted into a grand trunk half the size of his torso. The branches were all bare, but thousands of fibers making up the tree pulsed with moving, twinkling lights like luminescent white cells in a bloodstream.
“A Twilight Tree,” I gasped in awe. I whirled around to Chance. “You solved one of the 12 uNDER riddles!”
“And we made it just in time,” Chance said, checking his watch. A subterranean boom sounded from the Twilight Tree. In rhythm with the boom, every inch of the tree became consumed in glowing energy, turning the entire thing gleaming silver. A moment later, the tree rained ethereal, lime green sparks. A glittering black void appeared in the center of the trunk. Then the couples lined up and proceeded through it, one pair at a time. Every six couples or so, the line paused for a minute.
When Chance and I finally stepped through the void, my eyes and mind took a moment to adjust to the very different setting on the other side. The interior of the trunk was an old-timey elevator, the likes of which you might find in a quaint hotel. It was lit by just two candelabras. Back the way we came, the hill had vanished; you could only see the black void, which glimmered and swirled.
As we were the final pair inside, Chance closed a bronze folding-gate behind us, sealing the elevator. A shimmering scan passed over our bodies.
“All ages accepted,” an automated woman’s voice said. The elevator shook for a second then began to descend. The candelabras did not travel with us; they were bolted to a part of the wall we left behind. Turns out the elevator had no ceiling. It was just a platform. As we sunk down we moved farther away from the light and fell deeper into the dark.
Thick, impressive roots extended above our heads, stretching to the candelabras’ glow in the distance as we dropped away. It was surreal and spooky—very haunted-house-meets-other-dimension.
Then light returned—a lot of it. The elevator stopped in front of a large bedroom. It was long, with six dark wooden beds on either side, each with a different month of the year carved into the frame. Red canopies with golden tassels crowned the beds. A teal- and-gold carpeted walkway ran up the aisle to a fireplace, which was so enormous it took up the entire back wall. The fireplace roared magnificently and the sharp edging of its frame made it look like a wide-open lion’s mouth.
The folding gate in front of us slid open. We all proceeded out of the elevator and across the walkway to the farthest bed, the one marked “December.” We knew how the story went and what needed to come next.
As Chance was the first to arrive at the bed, he got to do the honors. He knocked five times on the column that connected the bed to its canopy. The bed sank into the floor and then it dematerialized altogether. In its place was a gaping hole and the beginning of a downward staircase. From the pitch black hole, a ghostly luminescence arose. It wasn’t an actual specter; it looked like wind. If wind dunked itself in eerie, translucent white paint.
The wind beckoned us forward and we followed, stepping down into the dark world. Two by two we descended the thin staircase. The route reminded me of the stairwell Daniel and I had taken to get below the Twenty-Three Skidd arena. Only this staircase, I knew, was taking us to a magical place that I’d heard of but never seen.
The Twelve Dancing Princesses was one of many beloved stories about our realm’s protagonists. It was unique in that it dealt with so many protagonists at once. In addition, the aftermath of that fairytale remained a relevant part of our culture.
The story’s main plot took place decades before I was born, and the gist of the tale was this: A king had twelve daughters, one born for each month of the year. Every evening he wished them good night and locked the door to their shared bedroom. However, one morning, he discovered their dancing shoes were in tatters and the girls themselves worn out. He asked them what had happened and they would not offer an explanation.
One night a month for over a year this repeated. The princesses would wear out their new dancing shoes and the following day they would be ridiculously exhausted. Over time, the girls grew paler and more lifeless, as if they never rested at all. And yet they continued to withhold any explanation for the phenomenon. The king
grew worried and ordered different guards to stay overnight in the princesses’ room. Most days of the month in the morning things appeared normal and the guard on duty claimed the girls only slept. But sure enough, one morning each month whatever guard had been there was gone, disappeared without a trace. In response, the king declared that any suitor who discovered the princesses’ secret would inherit the kingdom and could choose any princess for his bride.
Many suitors tried but, like the guards before them, they vanished by morning. Enter the unassuming common. Through a series of events, a palace servant had come across an enchanted cape that could make him invisible. So one night he stayed in the princesses’ room without their knowledge to observe them. And his mind was subsequently blown by the truth.
Deep into the night, the princesses knocked five times on a bed column and an entrance to a hidden realm was revealed. This magical place was a buffet of beautiful, dark settings, but it centered on a mystic palace where Twilight Balls were held each evening for a group of elegant ghosts. The ghosts, unlike the wind we were currently pursuing, looked and felt human and could have easily passed for royals in court. They could eat, drink, and dance—their touch was no different than the touch of a mortal.
Later it was revealed that the first time the princesses uncovered this palace, they’d sampled a potion at the ball that put them under an enchantment. The spell caused all twelve girls to become addicted to the magical world. They had to come back, and could not remember it once they woke up. They were, in essence, cursed to dance until they died. Only by finding a love that surpassed their love of the intoxicating Twilight Kingdom could the spell be broken.
Luckily, that’s precisely how the story ended. The palace servant did not exploit the princesses’ secret because he’d already fallen in love with the second oldest princess but didn’t want to force her to marry him. He wanted her to choose him for herself. (My kind of guy.)
The dude had no idea that true love would break the spell. But sometimes things just work out. When the second oldest princess—unprovoked—fell in love with him in return, and the two shared their first kiss, the enchantment broke. The princesses remembered everything, including that the guards and suitors sent to find out their secret had been taken to the magical palace too. Under the influence of their spell, the girls had led these men there then gotten them to sample a potion that would keep them there forever as imprisoned, entranced dancers. When the kiss broke the princesses’ spell the fellows who’d followed them were freed from their enchantment as well. After that, the second oldest princess and the servant were married, the kingdom rejoiced, blah blah blah.
What came next was way more interesting.
Just because the spell was broken didn’t mean the Twilight Kingdom stopped existing. Now the princesses and their suitors could enjoy it normally, so long as they stayed away from trippy potions. But there was still mystery afoot.
The girls didn’t understand why a magical black hole appeared in their bedroom floor whenever they knocked on the right bedframe. Now that they weren’t hopped up on potion, they had the clarity of mind to investigate. During one of their later visits to the Twilight Ball, they finally found the matron of the palace—an old queen who was the sole mortal in the realm of realistic-looking ghosts.
Apparently, the Twilight Kingdom was a separate dimension that had existed since the dawn of time, and every generation a new royal was selected to be its keeper. The elderly queen had opened the entrance to the twelve princesses’ room because she figured with so many girls the odds of finding a suitable candidate were strong.
The dance-til-you-die potion had been a test. Only a royal who valued real love over an eternity of responsibility-free frolic would inherit the rights to the Twilight Kingdom. The second eldest princess (Heather) had done exactly that and so, prior to dying, the matron queen bestowed upon Heather the magic staff that controlled the entrances to the world (their forms, locations, and times of opening).
Talk about a gift!
Queen Heather now ruled the Twilight Kingdom alongside her husband. The magic world could only open once a month, so since she knew everyone would want to visit, Heather established the 12 uNDER riddles. In each Century City Summit Review (our biannual realm-wide periodical), Heather released a list of six complex riddles whose answers deciphered the time and location of the entrances to the Twilight Kingdom for the next six months. Solely by cracking these riddles could you find a magical way in (i.e., a Twilight Tree like the one we’d just come through, which Queen Heather created for that night alone). Visitors were to knock on her bedpost (the December one) to pay tribute once they’d gone through the tree. That would grant you access to the most mystical and sought-after night scene around—the enchanted palace’s lavish ball, now colloquially known as 12 uNDER. Queen Heather had rebranded it as a nightclub to give it an edgier feel.
We arrived at the bottom of the staircase in a world shaded in onyx. However, through a short tunnel ahead, a forest glistened. We made our way toward it, following the ghost wind.
Whoa.
The forest was entirely silver. Every tree and branch and leaf was made of shining metal. A slim footpath wound through the silver woods and the ghost wind continued to guide us along. The air became warmer and the scent of jasmine and orange blossom filled the air. After a few minutes, the distant music of violins and flutes reached our ears as we entered a second forest. This one was even more spectacular—every component was constructed of gold.
I smiled and looked at Chance, daring a whisper. “This place is right up your alley.”
The prince—a grandson of King Midas with his own gold-producing powers—smiled back. “I’ve seen better.”
While the silver forest had made us look pale and washed-out, this one bathed us in light as if it were day and not evening. Chance’s handsome features seemed to glow.
We passed through the gold forest until we arrived at the final forest in the magic trek. These were normal trees, but there were so many diamonds clustered upon every leaf and inch of bark that they shimmered like a million stars. I had never seen anything so beautiful. And that included the time my favorite restaurant in Midveil put out a sign that said: “Free guac with chips.”
The enthralling tune we’d been hearing strengthened, and soon we arrived at a large lake. The moment we set foot upon its sandy embankment, the ghost wind vanished and boats rose from the water, one for every couple in the party. Each boat was painted black, with oars covered in swirls of navy glitter and glowing lanterns at their heads that pointed toward our final destination: a magnificent obsidian palace in the center of the lake. Its towers were purple and gold with turrets blacker than midnight. Music, light, and the smell of food poured out its windows.
The couples boarded the boats excitedly, Chance and I claiming one in the center. I hopped in and was about to take the oars when Chance beat me to it.
“At least let me do this,” he said.
“Chance, I am—”
Chance held up a hand. “Perfectly capable of rowing this boat. I know. You can row on the way back. We’ll be a team.”
I didn’t mind that idea. I sat back in the boat, surprised it wasn’t wet from having been underwater, and laced my fingers behind my head. It wasn’t in my nature to relinquish control, but it wasn’t in my nature to go on a date either, so tonight was all about trying new things.
“All right. Row away, Prince Charming.”
We began our approach toward the castle. I stared up at the sky—void of stars, but glowing with silver clouds and the occasional glistening golden bird that produced shimmering sparkles in its wake.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said to Chance. “I’ve seen a lot of incredible things across the realms, but this is amazing.”
With all the contrasting shadows cast by the palace, our boat lantern, and the atmosphere, it was hard to read his expressions clearly, but Chance looked pretty pleased as he effortlessly pulled the oars t
hrough the water. “You’re welcome.”
“When did you solve the riddle?” I asked as we glided across the lake.
“A couple of months ago,” he said. “Each time the Summit Review comes out I try to solve them for fun. But since 12 uNDER is only open to those 17 and over, I never took them that seriously.” “Same,” I said. “I’ve solved several over the years, but never put tons of thought into it since I couldn’t get into the club anyway. A long time ago, SJ, Blue, and I talked about dedicating ourselves to solving one after we’d all turned 17, but obviously a lot has changed since my birthday. Life got more complicated. Clubbing is no longer a priority.”
“Getting chased by homicidal antagonists has that effect,” Chance replied, half joking.
I shrugged. “It’s good exercise.”
Chance released a short huff of a laugh. “You’re so weird.”
“You’re just realizing that?”
“No. It’s my favorite thing about you.”
It was a sweet thing to say. A lull passed between us, broken only by the splash of oars. The music from the castle was growing like a tidal wave as we neared it. We were about a quarter of the way across the lake and keeping pace with the other couples.
“Lady Agnue was telling me about your sisters Daphne and Ivy Lynn the other day,” I commented, changing the subject. “How old are they? Daphne has a twin brother, right?”
“Cereus,” he replied. “He and Daphne are twenty-eight and they’re the eldest. Ivy Lynn is fifth in line and she’s twenty-one. I’m one of eleven.”
My eyes widened. “You have ten siblings?”
“Yup. I’m sixth. After Daphne and Cereus there’s my brother Sammi; he just turned twenty-four. He’s followed by my brother Trenton who is twenty-three, and Ivy Lynn who’s twenty-two. Then there’s me. After that come the triplets, Agatha, Adiana, and Isabelle, who are ten, my little brother Thurgood is eight, and my baby brother James is five.”
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