Cauchemar, Prince Phillip’s stepmother, had decreed it. The only sounds Phillip could hear as he crept down the hallway were the echoing shuffles of his feet and the pounding rhythm of his heart. He grasped his lamp tightly in one hand as he groped along the wall with the other to prevent himself from stumbling over the unevenly paved stones of the hallway floor. As he fumbled his way toward the large oaken door of the testing chamber, the acrid smoke and oil of his lamp made his nostrils sting. The lamp threw flickering shafts of light across the thick tapestries that blocked all outside light from the windows behind them. Hallways that had held so much light and carefree activity for Phillip as a child now were filled with dread as he thought about what lay waiting for him in the chamber beyond. How different these halls are at night. Phillip tripped over something in his path. “Ouch! You’d think after so many times making this trip, I could do it blindfolded.
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