It took them over three hours to reach Jamie’s camp, although the three hours was just a gross estimation based on the distance the sun was hovering above the mountains, and the camp wasn’t really a camp but more of a fortress.

Sara had imagined tents and campfires, not spires and dark gray walls splashed with shadows from the setting sun. So, it all came as a bit of a surprise, though she really shouldn’t be at this point.

“I apologize for taking the long route,” said Jamie as they approached the drawbridge. “But you saw how they followed us.”

“Is this Cold Castle?” Sara asked, remembering Jamie mentioning it to her.

“Merely an outpost.” Jamie sighed and cracked his neck. “Curse the Tachelm boy. I’ll be lucky to have a quarter of my forces return by sunrise.”

Sat behind him, Sara couldn’t see Jamie’s expression, but she could tell by the way he slumped in the saddle that he was wary. She decided not to bring up going back to Akari anymore. She didn’t want to push what little luck she had left.

They were let through the gate and into the castle’s walls. A squad of armored knights raced across the courtyard to meet them, bowing as they addressed their Lord Prince.

“We received a raven an hour ago,” said a man at the front. “We assumed the worst. Goddess bless us that you have made it out alive and unharmed, Your Highness.”

“Yes, yes,” said Jamie, waving the sentiment away. “Is my brother here?”

“He is safe, Lord Prince.”

“Good. Where is the Old Fart?”

“Here, Your Highness.”

The knights parted to let an elderly man through. He was well-dressed and carried no weapons, except for the dagger he was holding to his own throat.

Jamie spat at the man’s feet. “You have disgraced your kingdom, Sir Moralis. You have allowed the Tachelm prince to make fools of us all.”

“I have heard,” said the old knight, his face taut with pain. “And I shall wash away my failure with my own blood, my Lord Prince.”

“Your blood is old and worthless.” Jamie’s voice thundered with intensity. “If you want to repent, start thinking of how we can possibly hope to hold this fortress with a fraction of its men.”

Sara tightened her hold on Jamie’s waist, trying not to fall off from his animated movements. It seemed to remind the Lord Prince he had a passenger, for his next words were much calmer.

“We will speak of this later. I found this girl lost on the battlefield. I wish to speak with her when she is less distressed. Before then, situate her in the guest tent and make sure she is taken care of.”

Sir Moralis lowered his dagger to his side. “I shall send for the best servants, Your Highness.”

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. Sara was whisked away from Jamie and led deep into the castle by armed knights, none of whom uttered a single word to her no matter what she asked them. They deposited her in a tall tower in the heart of the building and locked the door behind her.

Sara barely had time to sit down when the door opened again. Three servant girls rushed in carrying buckets of hot water and fresh linen. Two of them busied themselves changing the bed sheets and filling the bathtub in the corner of the room, while one was solely focused on stripping Sara off all her clothing.

Sara fought her, going so far as to bite the girl’s hand, but the girl barely even flinched. She stole the rest of Sara’s clothes before all three girls pulled Sara into the scalding bathtub.

No one said anything, though Sara suspected she did enough yelling to make up for it. Once she was properly soaked, the girls lathered her with soap and oil, combed her hair until it shone golden, and dressed her up in a floor-length gown adorned with blue lace.

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“This is ridiculous,” Sara said once she was standing by herself again. “I have my own clothes, you know.”

“Those have been destroyed, m’lady,” said the girl Sara bit. “They were ruined even before we burned them.” She stepped aside as her two accomplices left the room, taking their tools and buckets with them.

Sara eyed this girl suspiciously. “What’s your name?”

“Servants do not need names.”

“That's just inconvenient,” Sara said. She looked around for some inspiration, finally settling her gaze on her dress. It was pretty. Gorgeous, even, and totally not her style. "I’ll call you Sapphire," she told the girl. "It's a stripper’s name worthy of someone who strips." She paused to let the joke register, but the girl didn’t react in the slightest. “A stripper,” Sara said again. “Because you undressed me… it’s not funny when you have to explain it!”

The girl bowed. “I’m sorry that I do not understand your humor, m’lady.”

Sara went to sit on the bed. It was hard as stone and smelled funny. “Forget it. Where the hell am I?”

“I am sorry,” said the girl, who was now called Sapphire. “But I cannot say anything more to you. The Lord Prince forbids it.” She went over to a corner and stood with her hands clasped together.

“What are you doing?” Sara asked.

“Waiting for your command,” Sapphire answered.

"Don't do that," Sara asked. "It's creepy."

Sapphire only responded with more apologies until Sara gave up and laid down. She was exhausted, more than she knew, because when she opened her eyes again, candles were lit and on the table beside her was a tray of food.

Caution flitted across Sara’s mind briefly before vanishing inside the maw of hunger. She went over and grabbed the first thing on the plate - a pear - and bit into it. Juices flooded her mouth. She tasted sweetness unlike any pear she’d ever had. She finished it in five bites before working on the rest of the meal. There were pickled radishes, steamed carrots and a slice of chicken. Sara cleaned the plates, savoring the very last bite. It wasn’t just because she was starving. The familiar ingredients actually helped anchor her to reality. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was back in the real world, and everything that had happened was all a twisted vision.

Like a bad trip, or something.

Sara allowed herself to fancy that idea, that the black cube was some sort of drug, and that she hadn’t really been transported to some medieval world but was instead stumbling around the school hallways like a nut high out of her mind.

She’d prefer that reality to this one.

Pale arms reached around her. Sara screamed and stood, twisting around to see Sapphire taking the tray off the table.

"Were you here the whole time?" Sara asked.

The girl smiled faintly as she took the tray away. When she came back, there were two knights following behind her.

“The Lord Prince has requested your attendance,” one of them told Sara. When she didn't answer right away, his hand moved towards his sword.

“Okay,” said Sara, stepping over to the door. As she passed Sapphire, she stopped. “In case I don’t see you again. Sorry about biting you.”

The small smile on the girl’s face widened. Her eyes narrowed and her voice took on a teasing tone as she answered, “You may bite me all you want. I do not mind.”

The castle stirred as Sara walked through. People trailed in from outside, the moon a knife’s edge at their backs. They looked like the riders Sara saw earlier on the battlefield, but most were on foot and many were limping or holding onto each other.

A young man stood at the entrance, guiding the wounded warriors through. He glanced over as Sara and her guards passed by and held up a hand.

“Is this the girl my brother rescued?”

One of the knights nodded.

“I’m Tom,” said the young man, taking Sara’s hand and kissing her fingers lightly. “Pleasure, my lady.”

“Cool,” said Sara.

The boy knight chuckled. “I’ll bring you to Jamie. I’ve always wondered why he’s so keen on getting a traveler behind our walls.”

The two guards stayed a few yards behind Tom and Sara. The boy kept her close to the castle wall, away from the center of the footpath like he was trying to hide her.

It might’ve worked, if she wasn’t the only girl dressed in a ball gown in a courtyard filled with injured men.

Sara appreciated the gesture but no one was looking her way. Twice she even had to move aside to let a stretcher through. Sara made the mistake of peaking over one, and nearly puked at the sight of a naked man with half his torso cleaved apart.

Torchlight brightened the night. Sara looked up, trying to find Polaris or the Big Dipper, as those were the only stars she knew. But this sky was novel.

“We are here.”

Tom stopped by the entrance to a tall building with rows of windows across its flat face. It looked like a massive barn and was guarded heavily.

A bald man in armor stepped up. “Who’s this supposed to be?” he asked, pointing the butt of his spear at Sara.

“I’m just as curious as you,” Tom replied with a good-natured laugh. He pushed open the door and held it for Sara to go through. “After you, m’lady.”

Sara studied the boy, trying to work out what his cryptic words meant, but everyone was staring back, watching her movements like they were anticipating something from her. She didn’t know what they wanted or why they kept calling her a ‘traveler,’ but Jamie was inside, and if anyone could tell her what was going on, it had to be him.

Sara lowered her head and stepped through the doorway.

Looking back, she wished she had just turned around and ran away instead.