Star

"Rat," I said. "What do you see in front of us?"

The dark and the damp of a cave," the rat answered. "Seemingly natural."

I frowned. "No streets or houses or fields?" I asked

"No, princess," she answered.

"Then what do you see behind us?" I asked.

"Only the gate we came through," the rat answered.

"No walls or towers or turrets stretching towards the sky?" I asked.

"No, princess," the rat answered.

I frowned again.

"What do you see in the cave?" I asked.

"Only a spiral staircase," the rat said. "Thick with dust and debris, leading upwards."

"Then guide me to it," I said, and under the guidance from the rat I walked forward until I felt the cold metal under my feet and started to walk upwards.

The stairs were steep, made by perforated steel, circling in a spiral upwards. Each step made the entire structure shudder slightly, and metallic echoes resounded throughout the cave.

"There are no footprints in the dust," the rat said with low voice from just behind me. "There is no light except for the one you bring."

"Do you see an end to the stairs, I asked?"

"Only darkness,"came the answer.

I kept walking, one step at the time, focusing on keeping my pace steady. The adrenaline rush from my fight with the dragon had died down, and even as the flame and the heart sustained me, I could feel the fatigue I had been holding back lurk at the edges of my consciousness.

"Rat," I said. "How long have we walked."

"I don't know," it confessed. "Must be at least two stories of the castle, probably more."

I let my hand trail along the wall, along rough stone.

"Rat," I said. "Is this cave natural, or is the stone worked?"

"The walls are even and straight," the rat answered. "I do not think these walls are natural:"

"Who build this stairs?" I asked. "To what purpose?"

"To be able to check on the castle gate?" the rat guessed.

"Perhaps," I said. "But you said there are no footprints?"

"There are no footprints, except yours," the rat agreed.

We walked on in silence. I felt my fatigue rising,

"Rat..." I whispered after awhile.

There was no answer.

"Rat!" I repeated, for a horrible moment afraid that she had abandoned me.

"I'm here, princess," she answered with low voice.

"Where do you think this stairs will take us?" I wondered.

"I don't know," she said.

"The stairs must end somewhere, right?" I asked.

"I don't know," the rat repeated.

I trudged on, step after step, the dripping on water and the echoes of my steps the only thing I could hear.

...until I caught the faint, faint sound of another noise. A song.

"Rat..." I whispered.

"Princess," she answered.

"I have heard that song before," I said.

"So have I," it answered, just as quietly.

Together we kept walking in silence, listening to the song. I was a slow, melodic song, sung with the clear, untrained soprano of a child. It was a calm song, perhaps meant as a lullaby, promising the peace and security of a soft bed and a loving kiss at bedtime.

The song grew stronger as we climbed. I lost track of time, of steps, all I knew was that I kept walking, and that the strong kept being stronger.

Finally my feet felt the next step failing to manifest itself, as the stair ended and I instead walked out on a smooth stone floor.

"Rat?" I whispered.

"You stand in a small chamber," the rat whispered. "There is no light except for yours and no windows. There are two doors, both closed..."

"Describe the doors," I whispered.

"The first is made of wood," the rat said. "with a small iron handle."

"And the second?" I asked.

"The second is made of metal," she said. "No handles or locks."

"Then take me to the first door," I said.

"Just take a step forward," the rat answered, "and then to your right. If you move your arm forward, you will feel it."

I did so, and soon my hand rested on the iron handle.

I opened the door and I entered a room full of light - enough that even my ruined eyes could pick it  out. The room was full of familiar smells. Smells of soft fabric and delicious food and dusty books and flaky crayons. The singing stopped abruptly as I entered.

"Are you the beast?" a child's voice asked from right in front of me, polite but reserved.

"Rat," I hissed "What can you see?"

"I see a princess," the rat said, voice full of dread. "With hair as spun sunlight and eyes shining like the stars. Draped in a dress as woven from snow and with a silver tiara on her head."

"I see," I said to the rat and then addressed the girl in front of me.

"I carry a bit of the beast inside me, that's true, but I am more than that."

"More how," the princess said, and I could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"I am also a princess," I said and leaned down. "Just like you."

"You are not like me," the princess said, voice full of suspicion.

"But I was, once," I said, and as I spoke the memories came back to me. A childhood of mirth and play, a promise of great deeds to come, a door...

"There is a door," I said. "White, with a golden crown."

"It's in the other end of the room," the rat confirmed.

"I'm not to go through it," the princess said. "Not until I'm all grown up."

"Don't go through it," I quickly said. "There's nothing in that room but a trap door."

"There will be a door," she said, with the certainty of a child. "There will be a castle. There will be a sword and there will be a beast."

"All that is true," I said. "But that will be all there is."

"What else could there be?" she asked.

"What else could there be?" I echoed.

"I am promised a glorious destiny," she said with a voice that made my heart break, because I recognized it as my own.

"That is a lie," I said. "All you will be given is the beast."

"I will win," she said.

"And if you do," I asked, "what then?"

"What then?" the rat echoed.

"Then I have slain the beast," she said, voice petulant.

"There will always be a beast..." I said.

"And a princess," she quickly shot back.

"Yes," I said and held out my hand. "There will always be a princess."

"What do you propose?" she said, voice heavy with suspicion.

"There is another door," I said. "Another path."

"I'm not supposed to go through that," she quickly said. "I'm not supposed to think of that..."

"And yet you do," I said, voice as persuasive as I could make it. "Because I'm not supposed to be in your tower either, and yet here I am."

"Here she is," the rat echoed.

"How," she asked. "If you truly are the beast, how did you get here?"

"There was a door I was not supposed to open," I said, "but I opened it."

"She opened it," the rat dutifully echoed and I scowled in its general direction.

"The princess and the beast..." I said, crouching down slightly, "neither of us could open it on our own, but when we combined our strengths..."

"What was behind the door?" she asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

"Just another cave." I said with a growl. "Just another prison. And another prisoner."

"You," the rat helpfully provided.

"And another door,"I said.

I heard her move forward. Felt her soft dress brush against my charred hands.

"Tell me about the door," she finally said.

"It's the way out of here," I said. "If you come with me, we can open it."

"Where does it lead," she asked.

"To those who have locked us in here," I growled. "To those that would have us imprisoned and at each other's throat."

"Why?" she asked. "Why would they want to do such a thing."

"Perhaps they fear us," I said, and I felt the dragon fire move in my belly. "Perhaps rightly so."

"Why should I listen to you?" she asked, and even if I couldn't see her face, I could tell the obstinate expression it made from her tone of voice alone, having so often made it myself.

"Because there is a part of you that knows I might be right," I said without hesitation. "Because you know there is more to the world than this castle. Because you too realize that the things you are told do not entirely add up."

I smiled and held out my hand.

"And because there is a part of you, princess, who wonder if you have it in you to be the beast. The answer is, yes, you do."

"How do I know I can trust you?" she asked.

"You don't," I answered.

"Then why would I not just kill you?" she said, and I felt the power in her words. "To fulfil my destiny?"

"Because if you do," I drawled, feeling the dragon poison trickle down my lips, "you will never know what is behind that door."

Silence. I caught myself holding my breath as I waited.

The suddenly - without I having even heard her moving, she touched my arm.

"Take me to the door," she said, and she took my hand, her small fingers cold against mine.

"You will have to lead the way, princess," I said, and with the rat in tow she lead me through the the stone room to the metal door. I stretched out my hand and felt the metal. Solid, old, unyielding.

I felt the dragon fire heat up.

"Are you ready," I asked.

"I am," she answered with clear voice.

"As am I," the rat hissed.

I took a deep breath.

"I am the princess," I said, and I heard how the princess mouthed the words together with me. "I demand this door to open."

Power surged through us, as from a lighting rod. Dragon fire and princess light. The door stood for a moment, then it crumbled and was flung outwards with a metallic clang.

Hand in hand we stepped out to face those that would have the princess and her beast imprisoned.

They would learn just how futile that was.