I Am A King's Daughter, And If

When I Was Very Young Every Grownup Was A Hero. It's Been All Downhill Since Then, And I Have Only Two Left.

For A Moment She Turned In A Circle, Staring At Her Hands, Which She Held High And Useless, Close To Her Breast. She Bobbed And Shambled Like An Ape Doing A Trick, And Her Face Was The Silly, Bewildered Face Of A Joker's Victim. And Yet She Could Make No Move That Was Not Beautiful. Her Trapped Terror Was More Lovely Than Any Joy That Molly Had Ever Seen, And That Was The Most Terrible Thing About It.

We Are Not Always What We Seem, And Hardly Ever What We Dream.

Sing To Me," She Said. "that Would Be Valiant, To Raise Your Voice In This Dark, Lonely Place, And It Will Be Useful As Well. Sing To Me, Sing Loudly-drown Out My Dreams, Keep Me From Remembering Whatever Wants Me To Remember It. Sing To Me, My Lord Prince, If It Please You. It May Not Seem A Hero's Task, But I Would Be Glad Of It.

The Magician Was Studying Her Face With His Green Eyes. "your Face Is Wet," He Said Worriedly. "i Hope That's Spray. If You've Become Human Enough To Cry, Then No Magic In The World — Oh, It Must Be Spray. Come With Me. It Had Better Be Spray.