"They're on the way. They just crested a hill by the Saldeven's farm," Dathid says to Jonah. We'd barely started down the dirt path when he spotted the carriage heading our way. He doesn't look happy about it. Of course, I wouldn't know what a happy Dathid looks like.

I'm so excited I'd jump up and down if my feet didn't hurt so bad. "Finally, something with wheels. I'll never walk again! Seriously, I swear on this day, that I'll only ever walk to the corner store and back, that's it. I'm not made for hiking, or for that matter, exercise in general. And I'm never doing it again."

Jonah laughs. "It's good to see some of your fight back."

He shocks me into silence. Sometimes I forget that he listens to me when I speak. I hope I didn't make him mad, but he's laughing, so I think I'm good.

It takes some time for whoever's driving to reach us, but we see them every time they come to the top of a hill. As far as horse-drawn carts go, this one is different from the carriages in Central Park. The wagon itself is linen-white with an open top and tangerine interior. The two matching orange horses at the front both complement the cart and add to its showiness.

"I've never seen horses that color before. It doesn't look weird or anything, just unique. Are there other horses where we're going and are they also interesting colors?" I ask, but no one answers. It's not until the carriage is almost in front of us that I notice the horns on the horses' heads.

"Those are unicorns!" I shout at Dathid. "You said unicorns were rhinoceroses!"

I slap him. He jerks away, which makes the contact with his elbow all the more gratifying.

He laughs at me. "I guess I lied."

The carriage pulls to a stop, and a petite older woman with a poofy, red bouffant hairdo jumps down from the driver's seat. In New York, only the more mature ladies wear long skirts with frilly jackets. However, this woman's suit looks like something women wore over a hundred years ago.

"Well, I'll be! I've never met a Knight Crawler. It's surely a pleasure," she says with an accent that's hard to decipher. She fans out her full sage-green skirt in an elaborate curtsy to Jonah. "The Queen welcomes you. Mrs. Albína Cutty. Honored to meet you, Sir. I will be providing your transportation to the castle. I was informed that English is the preferred language." As she dips down, she stretches out her hand and Jonah bows over it.

"Jonah. The pleasure is mine."

This is so official and proper. I hope she curtsies for me too. She probably won't because I'm a kid and not important like Jonah, but still a curtsy would be fun. Although if she does curtsy for me, do I curtsy back? Jonah bowed, so would I bow too? Now I hope she doesn't curtsy because that would be weird.

Mrs. Cutty is much stiffer when she turns to Dathid. Her curtsy for him is lower than Jonah's, but instead of lifting her hand, she holds her skirts and bows her head. "Your Royal Highness, it is truly an honor."

He tenses and gives her a slight bow. "The formality is unnecessary," he says with a frown, transforming back to grumpy old Dathid.

Mrs. Cutty steps in front of me and I can't stop staring at her sharp-featured face. Everything about her has a keen edge, from her narrow body to her long face and angular chin that accents her downward-sloping nose. Even her ears are pointy. I can't decide if her face is beautiful or threatening.

I'm about to stretch out my hand to shake hers when she curtsies so low, she touches the ground. I'm proud of myself for getting the grandest curtsy, but it's embarrassing.

"Agatha Stone, we are a grateful people," she says, with great reverence that adds to my discomfort. She stays on the ground, so I guess I'm supposed to say or do something.

"Mrs. Cutty, please," I say in a rush, growing increasingly mortified. "We don't do this kind of courtesy thing where I'm from. Please get up. That's unnecessary."

She rises looking perplexed. "Please, Miss, call me Albína."

I grab her gloved hand and shake it, which shocks her speechless for a moment. "Pleasure to meet you, Albína," I say too exuberantly.

She pulls her hand back and yanks more amber frills from her cuff before adjusting her perfectly tailored clover-green jacket. I'm about to apologize for manhandling her when she turns ghostly white and gasps. Lenox has walked up behind me. He's pressing against my back to get a better look at the unicorns.

As soon as the unicorns see him, they spook and almost break their rigging. Before anyone can move, Jonah nonchalantly whispers some soothing words, and the unicorns relax. One even falls asleep.

I pet Lenox's neck until the tension eases from his muscles. He's still interested, but he's behaving for now.

"Goodness," Albína says, staring up at Lenox. "I've seen these before, but only the babies and only from a distance. They certainly do stop one's heart."

Jonah and Dathid load Lenox's packs into the back of the carriage. "Agatha, tell Lenox to stay here until you whistle for him. It should only be for a short time. He can't fly over the unicorns so it's safer if he stays until he's called."

Lenox doesn't take the news well. My heart breaks when he drops his nose to the grass and blows out a deep sigh. I do my best to comfort him, but it doesn't help. "I promise. As soon as I get to where we're going, I'll call for you. Okay?"

He keeps his head low and ignores me. I'm holding up the group so I have to go. I hop into the front seat and wish Jonah would've sat with me, but he's in the back next to Dathid. I've never ridden in a carriage before—or in a car, for that matter.

My feet are so badly blistered they're bleeding, but that pain is minimal compared to my legs. My back is sore and my arms ache. I can't imagine why my arms would hurt from walking, but I guess my body is mad at me for doing this to it. I'm glad it's over.

I try to sit back and relax, but the ride is too stimulating. Albína is chattering away to Jonah about things I don't understand, so I take the time to study the countryside. However, my eyes keep going back to the unicorns. Actual unicorns!

As far as I can tell, humans got the unicorn right, except for the color. These two are radiant orange—not an offensive traffic cone orange, but like everything else here, they're more vibrant than their equine counterparts on Earth. Their vivid lemon manes and tails bounce when they trot, and they have a puff of showy yellow fur on the backs of their ankles. Their horns are painted in an elaborate paisley pattern with appliquéd jewels of various colors highlighting the centers. I'm not sure I like the effect, but other than the horns and their color, they're just like horses, only bigger.

We trot down the lane and when we pass a farmhouse, Albína puts her hand on my leg and starts explaining. "That's the Bracknaugh farm. You'll be meeting them soon. You'll like them. One of the last to come over. From Northumbria, I think."

I don't know where Northumbria is, but I listen intently to Albína's explanation of each farm we pass. Cromsmead feels so homey to me. It's like Earth, but about five hundred years ago. The sky is blue, the grass is green and the kaddamoll graze on every hilltop. It's so quaint. I wish I could paint it.

When we turn a corner, I literally gasp when a giant castle appears before us, seemingly from nowhere. I saw glimpses of its vibrant peaks when we would crest a hill, but I thought it was the entire town, not a single building. The castle is gigantic and rivals anything I've ever seen in pictures.

The enormous jade-green castle walls are trimmed with glittering ruby and emerald colors surrounding sparkling windows and elaborate balconies. Its glittery appearance is enhanced by the acres of shimmering amethyst roof tile pitching up and down like a stormy sea. The skyline is pierced with more ornate, knife-like towers than I can count. And completing the wedding-cake structure are small cylindrical turrets penetrating evenly throughout the massive stone walls that surround the entire enclosure.

I gawk at the castle for so long that I'm not aware we're passing through a village until we're halfway through it. It's a tiny town poised in front of the castle wall. All the buildings are low to the ground with timber framing and thatched roofs, and are plain compared to their flashy neighbor. It's weird that such a large castle would be built in such a small town.

The town is giving me a strange sensation that I can't explain until I notice that there are no people in it. It looks to be recently occupied. All the buildings have well-maintained signs hanging above their doors in a language I can't read. Everything is cared for and neat. There are filled water buckets, and clothing hanging on a line, but there's not a soul in the village. It's eerily quiet with the exception of Albína's chatter.

When we reach the castle wall, I'm so happy I almost applaud when I see it has a moat with a thick drawbridge over it. As we cross, I gaze into the crystal clear cornflower-blue water and see large colorful fish swimming around. I look down both sides of the wall but it's so wide I can't see an end on either side.

I glance up and my heart skips a beat when we pass under the heavy and sharp iron gate that's suspended over us. The wall is thicker than I imagined. We're traveling through a narrow passageway that has been artfully cut through it. It's all beautifully carved with gruesome battling figures and small holes fashioned throughout the tunnel. I wish we could stop so I could examine it better.

The end of the tunnel has a slight bend and when we turn the corner, a loud, excited cheer rings out when we exit. It startles everyone in the carriage, including the unicorns.