An oak door carved to resemble a faerie ship appeared.
The king opened it and bowed, his engraved gold crown
and crimson robes clearly beyond the craftsmanship of
mortals. Pegeen curtsied, suddenly conscious of her wind-
blown curls, mended skirt, and boots missing buttons.
“Come in, my dear,” said the faerie man, his cheer-
ful welcome easing her worries. Surely, thought Pegeen,
someone lied to the serpent. Maybe imps tampered with
the keys and the wall on their own. She stepped into a
room cluttered with magic mirrors, heaps of coins, bas-
kets of sapphires, and marble boxes. Seeing her eyes grow
wide, the king said, “This is only an old storeroom.”
He lifted a box’s lid, revealing a silver key fob crafted
in the shape of a dragon whose jaws gripped a bronze
ring. The beast’s long body provided a handle that
tapered to a slender tail bristling with twisted spikes.
Encrusted in jewels, the ornate fob looked more valuable
than a merchant ship’s entire cargo. Still, it didn’t intimi-
date Pegeen as much as the ring’s daunting collection of
identical, plain gold keys.
As she listened to the king tell her what the serpent
had already shared (“Strive to open sixty doors as fast
as you can”) she tried and failed to spot differences
between the true keys and their false fellows. “Don’t be
afraid to take the key ring,” said the king.
Pegeen made a brave show of plucking up the glittering dragon, but
her fingers trembled; keys jingled like chimes.
“Lass, you are nervous,” said the king. “Rules of the spell allow me to
reward you with ten copper coins if you agree to skip the test altogether.
Perhaps you’d prefer to forfeit your chance?” He beamed at her.
Pegeen returned his smile. “Perhaps I wouldn’t. But thank you very
much, your majesty.”
The king’s smile vanished as fast as a hidden door swung open in a
wall. “Go through there,” he said, “and music will begin measuring out
your allotted time.”
“How many minutes are given?”AKEYFOB IS
AN ORNAMENT
ATTACHED TO
A KEY RING.