The Three Princesses by Cassie Wright Page B

never paused or and never stopped. The trees had grown so old and mighty that they seemed as large as his cottage; behemoths that rose up to such heights that the Woodsman could barely make out the great branches above him in the gloom. The ground grew covered in a rich golden moss that was so thick and springy beneath his boots that he felt almost half his weight. With the fear now gripping him about the throat he set out at a run. Each step was so buoyant that soon he was running ever deeper into the woods with great bounding strides, springing from step to step so that he covered ground faster than he would have even at a flat run.
    A snarl drew him short. The Woodsman froze, and dropped his ax from his shoulder into both hands. A predatory figure emerged from behind a tree and the Woodsman beheld a great lion, tawny skinned and with a mighty mane about its neck. Its eyes glowed like amethysts and its tail lashed the air behind it. Gripping his ax tightly, the Woodsman watched the great beast without fear. If it had slain his son, then it would pay with its very life.
    Slowly the lion approached him, tail whipping from side to side. Then, just as the Woodsman prepared to draw back his ax, the lion seemed to relax and snarled no more. Its tail dropped down and it lumbered up to him without any threat in its face. Surprised, the Woodsman stayed still, not believing his eyes. When the lion reached him it rubbed against his thigh and curled about him, purring deep within its chest, a sound so powerful that it sounded as if boulders were shifting within the depths of the earth.
    The Woodsman put out his callused hand and ran it down the length of the lion's muscled body. It was warm and powerful to touch, and seemed not to mind the Woodsman's caress at all. It pulled away and purred once more, and then began to walk into the woods. The Woodsman watched it go, but when the lion paused to look over his shoulder at him, he realized that it desired to be followed, so he set out after it.
    It grew dark as he followed the lion, and the Woodsman knew that soon it would be night. He thought only of his son, and vowed over and over to the memory of his wife that he would do whatever it took, even if it meant following this beast to its final destination. As they walked they were joined by a wolf, a great rangy beast with massive jaws and fiery eyes and a coat of black fur, and then a second wolf and a great bristly boar with tusks as large as the Woodsman's forearms. These great beasts fell in line with him, as more and more of them emerged from the shadows to escort the Woodsman as he followed the lion. Soon he walked in the midst of a great crowd of predators and powerful animals, each dangerous to the extreme and worthy of a great hunt replete with nobles and princes and hounds and horns; but here, tonight, they seemed only to wish to walk with him as he was led into the heart of the wood.
    The forest grew dark, and finally they reached a glade. The wolves and boars peeled away, so that only the lion was left to lead him into the open. Out from the trees they walked, and the Woodsman saw a beautiful house standing all alone in the center of the glade, glowing under the light of the full moon. Amazed, the Woodsman looked up into the dark sky and saw that night had fallen while he walked under the trees. The sky was clear of clouds and the moon so bright that he cast a shadow upon the grass.
    The lion let out a roar, and then turned and slipped away into the trees, leaving the Woodsman all alone. He turned back to the house. It was large and ornate and beautiful, looking as if carved from ivory, with a grand entrance and large windows, all of which were dark but one on the top floor. The door, he saw, was open.
    No normal house should exist this deep in the woods; this he knew with a certainty born of a life spent amongst the trees. Yet here it was, fit enough for a king, well kept and elegant and beautiful beyond desire. The Woodsman