In the very heart of the King’s dominions stood the palace, perfect in beauty, from its dazzling foundations to its topmost flaming turret. Brightness unquenchable shone from its walls, warmth and the spirit of friendliness streamed from its windows and wide-flung golden doors. Beyond it, in the garden of the Princess, the exquisite flame-roses and stately fire-lilies unfolded to a richer, fuller beauty. The huge fire-oak, under which Prince Radiance had first beheld the enchanted Princess as a fine white flame, rustled its ruddy leaves and glowed more intensely from root to crown, almost as though it knew and rejoiced in the part which it had played in the fortunes of this happy wedded pair. Throughout the whole kingdom a gentle music filled the warm air and charmed the ear—the music of fairy voices, the music of whispering flames, the music of tripping feet—all the sweet sounds of the fire gathered into one continuous strain of gladness, now high and clear, as if it could not be restrained, now low and soft, as if even in quietness all must still murmur the praise of the King and his beloved children. Into this land of wondrous light and beauty came Creeping Shadow, marveling at what she saw, awed by it, stirred by it, sure in her heart that from a place so bright, so pure, so lovely, help must come for her imprisoned mistress. The Elf of the Borderland had spoken truly: from the moment she had entered the Land of the Fire Fairies, she had met with nothing but kindness. The fairies had looked with wonder upon this stranger with the sorrowful face and trailing robes of grey, but all had helped her on her journey, and none had asked her more than she had cared to tell. Twilight had come when, foot-sore and weary, she reached the Palace of Burning Coals. The palace gardens, lovely in the softened glow of evening, were deserted; the fire-lilies stood tall and lonely by the garden paths; but from every window of the palace streamed brilliant lights, and from its doorway floated sounds of joy and laughter. It was that pleasant hour of evening in which the fairies, their tasks in fields and house and garden completed, came freely to the palace hall to dance and sing and tell, in the King’s presence, tales of past adventure and noble deeds. Creeping Shadow stood timidly at the gate for a moment, longing yet fearing to enter. How could she dare to hope that the Prince would turn from a place so bright and joyous to come to the aid of her mistress in a drear and dangerous land?