The swirl of noise and color pulsing through my body is making my heart beat erratically. I pray the ear-splitting roar is the ground cracking open so it can swallow me whole. Run! my brain screams, but I'm frozen like a statue. Hopefully the frenzied crowd won't notice me if I sit still enough.

Is this a parade? Can you have a parade with only one vehicle? There's a band playing and people are dancing in the street. It's definitely some kind of block party. Is this for me?

Little pointy people are flooding the street, shoving at each other to get a closer look at the carriage. They're not tiny like Santa's helpers, but they're small, like jockeys. They're dressed in overly elegant attire that doesn't match their rowdy behavior, but does highlight my dirt and remind me that I'm still in the black sweater and jeans I've been wearing for longer then I care to remember. I'm dirty and smelly, and I haven't combed my hair in over a week. Worse, I'm being compared to the beautiful Dathid and elegant Albína.

I close my mouth and plaster on a smile. Although my eyes betray me, I'll pretend to enjoy their admiration with some meek waves. The happy faces of the villagers passing by makes my stomach knot, so I turn my attention to the colorful architecture. I'm surprised that the village is inside the castle's walls, but then again, I don't know much about castles. Everywhere my gaze travels there are flowers, streamers and wreaths covering every surface. This can't all be for us. I want to ask Albína if elves normally decorate this way, but she wouldn't be able to hear me over the music and cheering.

We slowly progress through streets clogged with celebrating elves and eventually make it to the castle steps. I want to study the colossal building, but I don't want my admirers to think I'm being rude by ignoring them. I wave continually and count twelve towers before I get distracted by the massive gargoyle statues that are tucked into various nooks along the enormous jade-colored walls. I want to study the exquisite artistry longer, but Albína stops the carriage and everyone hops out.

Jonah smiles down at me. "Did you enjoy that?"

I half-heartedly smile back and am about to tell him how I really feel, but he turns away before I can answer. "Are you ready for this?" he asks Dathid.

Dathid's teeth grind together and he takes a deep, unsteady breath. "I knew this was part of it, so let's get it over with."

"What are we getting over?" I whisper to Jonah's back.

He doesn't have time to answer because a dark-haired elf, who's only slightly taller than I am, is charging down the stairs. His ultramarine blazer and lightly ruffled melon shirt are conservative by the elfin standards I've witnessed so far.

"Hello! Hello!" the strange little man shouts. When he reaches the bottom step, he collects his dignity and says formally, "I apologize for my tardiness. Cypus Turehart, at your service. It is truly a pleasure, Sir Agatha." He says this last part to my feet because his bow is so grand, his upper body bends parallel to the floor.

I think Sir is a title. And I think it's for men. Does this guy think I'm a boy? Albína's curtsy was amusing, but the bowing and the waving, and especially the cheering grates on my nerves. I've been invisible my entire life and now everyone is staring at me. I wish they would've warned me about the parade because I'm still so rattled from that ordeal that I may vomit on Turehart's shiny red boots.

I jump when Mr. Turehart rises with a clap of his hands, but no one notices me because he's already bowing to Dathid, who looks mad, uncomfortable, and bored, all at the same time. This bow is quicker than the one I got and when it's over, the elf gracefully leaps and spins in the air. "Her Majesty is waiting. Follow me."

We climb the stairs and enter the great hall. It reminds me of the gymnasium at my school, only because it's a giant rectangle and that's really where the similarities end. The fireplaces at each end are so massive they look like rooms unto themselves. It's funny that such tiny people would have such an enormous room.

The floors are a combination of shiny cobalt-blue stones and intricately woven rugs that change the vibrato of our shoes echoing through the chamber. I don't know where to look first as we walk around a colossal U-shaped table that fills the entire space. An ornate red and gold damask tablecloth covers the table and on it are colossal candelabras of various metals, colorful bouquets of flowers and more plates and flatware then I've ever seen in my lifetime. Who lives like this?

My eyes are traveling all over the room trying to find a place to focus. There's so much excess that I can't take it all in. The huge chandeliers are made of some kind of shiny coral red metal that's clashing with the tapestry behind it. That tapestry makes my eyes stop.

Depicted in amazingly fine needlework is a proud gilded elf standing with her foot on the neck of a fallen faerie, her sword piercing his heart through his open chest. I glance over at Dathid, but he's staring straight ahead. He seems tenser than usual, but it's hard to tell with him.

I catch Jonah's eye and direct him with a look to the tapestry. He glimpses over at it and then gives me an odd squint. I have no idea what that means.

I'm concerned for Dathid. Would these elves hurt him? That's such a weird thought. They're so jovial and truly ecstatic we're here. Neither Dathid nor Jonah are upset about it, so maybe the tapestry is old, but they should've taken it down anyway.

We exit the great hall, walk down a long corridor and enter a gallery that's almost as large as the room we just left. The room is practically empty except for the two soldiers who are flanking a set of beautifully painted double doors and watching Dathid closely.

I want to see his reaction, but I'm afraid of drawing any more attention to him. The doors open automatically. Mr. Turehart abruptly leaps to the side and bows as we walk past. It's such a gracefully undignified maneuver that I would laugh if I weren't so nervous.

This new chamber is considerably smaller than the other rooms we've seen thus far but unlike the other rooms, this one is packed with elves. The pressure in this place makes sweat drip down my neck. Everyone is staring at us. I want Jonah to hold my hand. Things are always safer when Jonah holds my hand.

I don't look at any of the faces staring at me. Instead, I focus on the two luxuriously dressed windows that we're walking toward at the far end of the room. With each step, the air tightens. When we stop, I pull my attention away from the curtains and try not to notice that sitting between the windows, on a ridiculously ornate throne, is the Queen.

Her strong pointed features are even sharper on her pale, slender frame. She doesn't have the warmth of King Ohad. In fact, she seems cold, like if I touched her, she'd be physically chilly. I drop my eyes to the hem of her aquamarine gown. Should I make eye contact, or will she behead me for looking at her?

I cautiously raise my eyes up her lapis-blue robe but stop when I come to the neckline. There are so many jewels on the collar of that robe it's shocking her boney physique can hold it up. I skip over her face and choose to travel up her long wavy white hair until I come to the simple silver crown with jewels in varying shades of blue.

My knees almost buckle when it dawns on me that I've just given a Queen a thorough once-over. I can't breathe. She watched me do it, too. I bring my panicked gaze to her face and find her staring at me. The world tilts for a second and then an eerie calm washes over me. I like it until the room starts to fade. I wobble a bit and then remember to breathe. The room comes back into focus.

The Queen's attention fixes on Jonah, who gives her a bow, but Dathid just nods his head. I've already made such a fool out of myself that I'm afraid to move. Bow or nod? I'm not sure. She's staring at me again so I shrug my shoulders.

I can't believe I just shrugged my shoulders!

The Queen smiles like she's enjoying my discomfort. Her eyes turn from humor to suspicion when she glances at Dathid. Are they going to hurt him?

When she returns her attention to me, she asks in a heavily accented voice, "Agatha Stone, do you know who I am?"

The accent is so thick I can barely understand her. "No, ma'am."

"Do you know why you are here?"

"To get the key." I'm not sure if that's the right answer.

The Queen frowns. "Yes, in a broad sense, you are here to find the key. But do you know why you are in Cromsmead?"

"No, ma'am." The light-headedness is back. I've already made such a bad impression, I don't want to pass out, hit my head and bleed all over her shiny floor.

"I am Queen Ekecheiria. You are here to receive your training."

I turn my feet awkwardly and stand on the sides of them. I keep my eyes on my twisting hands. "Oh, yeah, right. I knew that."

The Queen turns back to Jonah and speaks in yet another language. This one is different from what Dathid speaks. Am I supposed to learn all these languages? I speak English good enough, and my Spanish is getting better, but that's it. Every new curra we've come upon so far has spoken a different language.

They're talking about me. It's rude when people discuss you right in front of your face. If she doesn't think I'm the right person for the job, she should just say so.

"She has tremendous courage and an eagerness to learn. Agatha is open-minded and a quick study," Jonah answers in English.

The Queen scowls but recovers. "Good. Good." After a moment, she smiles brightly. "Well, as you can see, the people of Cromsmead are celebrating your arrival. Tonight we have a grand party scheduled. Albína will be your secretary, as she's one of the few who speaks English. If you need or want for anything, all you need to do is ask."

And with that, we're dismissed.