MARY STEPPED OUT of her carriage in front of Spellzany Castle, admiring as usual its towers topped in huge, colorful marble crowns, wizards’ hats, and jesters’ caps. Her aunt, Queen Ursula, robed in ink-bottle patterned blue silk, ran out and hugged her.
“Auntie, thanks for inviting me!”
“Thank you for traveling across the kingdom to be here! You love poetry, so I knew you’d want to see me present my Royal Rhyming Poem Contest prize.”
“You aren’t nervous about . . .?”
“Not a bit,” said the queen brightly as they strolled through the castle’s carved doors. “I’m sure the party will go smoothly.”
Mary didn’t feel so certain. Spellzany Castle’s name sprang from its history of attracting zany magic spells. If a frost fairy’s too-strong charm covered a throne…
