Sleeping Beauty, the One Who Took the Really Long Nap by Wendy Mass

of lions. My eyes swung back to the painting and locked.
    I stared until my eyes began to burn. I rubbed them and looked again. There was no question. That painting was the exact same painting as in our castle! It hung in the exact same place along the right-hand wall. In fact, it wasn’t just the painting that was identical. I could have been looking into our own library. The entire room was identical, down to the books on the table and the pattern of the rug. Although it was impossible, seeing as this castle was much older than ours, the objects in the room were brighter — the colors inthe painting were not as faded as ours, and the rug had retained much more of its color. If ours hadn’t been dulled by the sunlight, Mother surely would have tossed it.
    I let myself sink down to the grass and leaned my back against the castle wall for support. I thought I might faint dead away. I knew there was a mystery to be found, but I had never expected anything like this!
    I spent the night in one of my forts, tossing and turning on the bed of feathers and leaves, snacking on the occasional blackberry, pondering what all this could possibly mean. By daybreak I knew I needed to cut my trip short. I needed Jonathan’s knowledge of the world to help me find some answers. I lay my hand on the wall of the old castle and felt a pulse of energy run through my arm. I yanked it away, then felt foolish for doing so. I lay my hand back on the vine-covered wall but felt nothing.
    Leaving my potato sacks behind, I took off in the direction of home. In my haste, I tripped over what I thought was a bush. My knee banged against something hard. Bushes weren’t supposed to be hard. I turned around to examine it, my hand beginning to shake as I recognized, nearly hidden beneath a tight layer of leaves and branches, the unmistakable shape of a mermaid fountain. And unless I was going crazy — which at this point I certainly considered a possibility — there was water in the bottom of it.
    I reached the castle as my parents were finishing breakfast.
    â€œBack so soon?” Mother asked. It was the fourth Friday of the month, so she was in a good mood from whatever she had done the night before. It was unusual for me to be gone such a short period these days, but I couldn’t very well explain.
    I made some sort of noncommittal grunt, pulled out my chair, and shoved some boiled goose eggs into my mouth. “Do you know where Jonathan is?” I asked between bites.
    A quick look flitted between the two of them, and I could see the sympathy in their faces. I sat up in alarm. Had something happened? Had Mother scared him off? Or worse?
    â€œDo not worry,” Father said, clearly sensing my fear. “Jonathan is fine. He wanted to tell you himself, but he only had time to pack up his things before the coach came for him.”
    â€œHe’s been promoted to squire and transferred to another kingdom to train for the knighthood,” Mother explained. “He was sad to leave here, but this is a very good opportunity for him.”
    I was stunned. I knew I should be happy for him, but all I felt was abandoned. I slowly rose from my chair; the eggs in my belly felt like rocks. In a daze, I made my way up to my bedroom suite and closed the door firmly behind me.
    A note on my dressing table caught my eye. I recognized Jonathan’s handwriting and hurried to open it.
    â€œPrince, I am sorry I had not the time to find you in the woods. Everything has happened so quickly. I hope we shall keep in touch, although I know not where this journey will take me. One day when I am a knight, I hope you shall be my king. Your friend, Jonathan.”
    I lay the letter down on the dresser. My teacher, my guide, my protector, my only friend. All gone in one moment. Now more than ever, I needed to find out the story of the old castle. I needed something to take me away from here. The old castle was the only future left to