with your partner, promenade! Promenade! Promenade!”
Arm in arm, Peter and Rosemary strode down the path; Una and Dué marched behind them.
At once, the music stopped, and Peter and Rosemary stood on their own, arm in arm, on the forest pathway. The Number Crunchers were nowhere to be seen. They glanced at each other, then stumbled apart, taking a keen interest in the surrounding foliage.
The sound of Puck applauding brought their attention around. They looked up to see him leaning against a tree. “Congratulations, my friends. You have passed the first challenge.”
“What are you talking about?” said Rosemary. “Where did Una go?”
“She sends her best wishes,” said Puck, hauling out a leather-bound pouch. “And numerous leftovers from your feast. As for what I speak about, you passed the first challenge; you danced it all away.”
“That’s the challenge?” said Peter. “Where’s the challenge in that?”
“Did it come easy to you?” said Puck.
Peter frowned. Then the light dawned. “Oh.”
“I wish we’d got a chance to say goodbye,” said Rosemary. “They were just as fun as I remembered.”
Peter snorted. “And you said you had no imagination.”
“I was four!” said Rosemary. “Everyone has an imagination when they’re four!”
“And no one loses it,” said Puck. “If they show it not later in life, they have merely locked it away. And such tyranny can lead to rebellion.”
Silence fell on the forest. Puck eyed Rosemary, his arms across his chest. Peter glanced from one to the other, looking perplexed. Rosemary lowered her gaze to the ground.
She clenched her fist. “Come on. Let’s find Theo.”
She strode forward, Peter and Puck following, deeper into the woods.
CHAPTER SIX
A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT
“Nothing. That’s the point!”
— Marjorie Campbell
They’d walked for an hour when suddenly Rosemary’s shoes changed. She stumbled and fell over.
She sat up, dusting herself off while Puck came back and watched with amusement. She was wearing a dress of heavy brocade with billowy skirts and frills around her neckline. No pink princess dress, this. She slapped away Puck’s helping hand and struggled to get up. Then she gave up and clasped his wrist, hauling herself to her feet. She glared at his cheeky grin. “New clothes. New story?” she asked. Puck nodded. “What’s it about?”
“I think I know,” came Peter’s muffled voice. Rosemary turned. Her eyes widened, then she clamped a hand over her laugh.
Peter clanked up to her in a full suit of armour. Only a narrow slit allowed him to see. “No fair!” he said, pointing at her with jointed gloves. “Why can’t you be the knight in shining armour?” He slid up his visor. “It’s not funny! I can’t breathe in this —” His next words were cut off as the visor clanked down.
Then Rosemary’s gaze fell on Peter’s scabbard, and she stopped laughing. She eyed the jewelled hilt of the sword it contained, and the length that trailed behind Peter. She glanced once more at her own dress, ludicrous, but more realistic. “Puck? Where are we?”
He shrugged. “That I cannot say. Read on, go on, my friends. The answer awaits us!” He bounded off. Peter and Rosemary glanced at each other. Peter shrugged with a clatter. They followed.
They soon heard the sound of running water, and as they rounded a curve in the path they came upon a narrow stone bridge rising above a swift forest stream. Its threshold was guarded by two chrome jaguars.
Rosemary halted by the jaguars. “What the ...”
“What?” Peter thrust up his visor and peered. “What are these oversize hood ornaments doing here?”
Puck was staring at the air over the bridge, rubbing it with his finger. He looked at the two. “What troubles you?”
“These,” said Rosemary, tapping the metal snouts with her finger. “Princess outfit, suit of armour, stone bridge, and metal panthers or whatever? Did we step into a ‘what’s wrong with this picture’ book?”
Puck peered around as though looking for cameras. Rosemary threw up her hands. “Let me guess: ‘That I cannot say’!”
He grinned at her. “No. That I do not know.” He pointed a long finger over the stream. “What I do know is that the challenge lies before us. To leave this story, we must go across the bridge and continue on our way.”
“That’s it?” said Peter. “Where’s the challenge in that?”
On the other bank, a knight in black armour stepped out from behind a tree and clanged his way onto the bridge. He had a sword with a pommel as large as a skull.
“Me and my big mouth,” said Peter.
The Black Knight drew his sword. “Did I hear somebody utter a challenge?” he bellowed. He pointed his sword at Peter. “Is the boy fool enough to challenge me to a duel to the death?”
Peter’s eyes went round, then the visor clanked in place in front of them. He struggled with his scabbard and drew his sword. The weight of it almost made him drop it.
Rosemary gulped. “This isn’t fair!” she said to Puck. “How can Peter fight him?”
“It is a quest, Sage Rosemary. It is not meant to be fair.”
“But —”
The Black Knight raised his sword and charged with a mighty yell. Puck and Rosemary ducked out of his way. Sword and helmet flying, Peter ran into the woods. The knight thundered after him.
“Puck, do something!” Rosemary shook him. “He can’t fight that knight alone!”
Puck shook his head sadly. “I cannot.”
Peter dashed out of the forest, tearing off his gloves and clawing at his breastplate, the Black Knight at his heels. “Turn, boy! Face me!”
“Puck!” shouted Rosemary. “Help him!”
“I am but a guide, Sage Rosemary,” said Puck. “It is your quest, and so it is your challenge.”
“Peter’s challenge,” said Rosemary. “The Black Knight is going after him!”
“And your challenge too,” said Puck, tapping her forehead with a long finger. “You must save Peter.”
“But how can I? I don’t even have a sword!”
“Remember,
