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For any mountain-climbers out there, forget the nylon rope and pitons. Get yourself a few hundred yards of magical princess braids.

Why, you ask?

Well, for many reasons, including—

1. You'll never run out. Magical princess braids keep adding length even when no longer attached to the princess's head. They magically grow to the top of the section of the mountain you intend to climb and firmly attach themselves to the surface.

2. The magic of the hair assists climbers by creating hand and footholds on an as-needed basis, which is a lot easier than climbing a regular rope and dealing with pitons.

3. Magical braids buzz with empathetic energy; they know when you're tired and form cocoon baskets to rest in during the climb.

4. The hair spiders that often reside in the braids provide added incentive for a quick ascent by crawling up your skirts or pants. Also, the spiders' penchant for excellent conversation helps pass the time.

5. Hair is 100% biodegradable, and therefore better for the environment.

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After a couple of hours, despite the extremely cooperative hair rope and the brilliant, diverting conversation with the spiders (who knew arachnids never slept?!), Ashley's muscles had cramped into wads of pain. Her stomach interrupted the discussion with the spiders repeatedly with embarrassing gurgles and groans. And she couldn't shake off the nagging sensation that something totally evil lurked above them at the top of the rope, pacing and licking its chops, waiting hungrily for their arrival.

There's always a monster.

"I worry there's something at the top with large fangs and the desire to consume human flesh," Ashley casually mentioned to the spiders, mostly to fill a gap in the conversation, but a little bit for assurance that she suffered from an overactive imagination and that the monsters only existed in her mind.

"There definitely is," said a spider.

That familiar knot of anxiety tightened around her heart. It was always there, really. That feeling, she was leading her friends into danger. Ashley glanced up at Gerald, twenty feet away on his own hair rope, steadily climbing—the highest of the group. Showing off, obviously. "But, but, I mean, how do you know?"

"The rumor mill around the webs says you're a prognosticator."

Not that again! "Where did you hear that?"

"Word gets around in the spider community."

"I thought spiders were solitary creatures."

"Some are, but we're of the communal variety. Hold on; just caught my dinner. High Altitude Mountain Fly. Yum. Gotta eat before my brothers and sisters take the wings. The best part! Bye."

Envisioning the spider gobbling down her fly banquet, Ashley's stomach fell silent. She paused to catch her breath. The air was preternaturally still, and despite the diamond brightness of the ice reflecting the sun, it smelled dark and dank as an empty cavern. She looked up, squinting her eyes, trying to see what might be lying in wait, but turns out it's hard to see up and over a vertical slope.

Perhaps they should've taken one of the alternate paths. Ashley gripped the rope tighter and chanced a glance down. Her head spun, and her stomach lurched.

Breathe.

The pointy rocks were so tiny they resembled toothpicks more than swords.

Breathe.

If they turned around, it would mean losing hours of effort. And probably wouldn't help anyway. There were bound to be monsters all over Mount Dolorem if the tales were true. And in fairy tale lands, stories tended to be accurate 86% more of the time than in non-fairy tale worlds.

Breathe.

She closed her eyes. No sense going backward as only a fool follows in her own footsteps. Ashley had no idea what that meant, but it sounded profound, at least. They'd keep moving forward, and when they came across a monster, they'd merely treat it kindly, and it would reward them with kindness in return.

Or they'd find another way.

Hopefully, one that didn't involve dying.

However, as the hours marched on, death began to present itself as an attractive option. Ashley's arms and legs ached. Her throat felt dry and cracked as a parched riverbed. And the stomach rumbling had returned with a vengeance. Fat flakes of snow fluttered in the air. Ashley stuck out her tongue, hoping to quench her thirst, but more ended up drifting like kernels of ice down her neck and onto her back than in her mouth. On the next rope over, Gerald's face had turned an unhealthy shade of red, and his errant curl had stiffened with frozen sweat. "We need a rest," she told a spider tickling its way along her forearm.

"Then ask for one," the spider said, rolling its eight eyes at her. It was one thing having two eyes holding you in sardonic contempt. But eight?

"So, I petition the universe for a warm bed to nap in whilst dangling thousands of feet from a frozen mountaintop?"

"Of course not," the spider said. "You don't fill out paperwork or anything. A verbal request will do." Maybe spiders suffered from altitude sickness. "Look, I'm not crazy. I've lived in Tressa's hair my whole life. Just say it. Out loud."

"I wish we had a place to rest," Ashley said.

Nothing happened.

"I told you so," Ashley admonished her spidery advisor, just as the rope of hair beneath her grip jerked. "Ahhhhhhh," she hollered, stomach flipping like a gold cup-winning diver at the Interkingdom Games. Her line thickened and spread so fast; she struggled to keep hold.

Ashley squeezed her eyes shut, envisioning the pointy rocks thousands of feet below, though they no longer seemed far at all. They were extraordinarily close and ready to impale her. Her heart hammered, throat constricting.

"Princess!" Gerald yelped. "Hold on! I'm coming!" Her knight swung toward the mountain, bent his legs, pushed off, and flew swashbuckler-style toward Ashley

"Don't risk yourself," she croaked, resignedto her fate.She flailed, trying to regain purchase of the rope, but only managed to snag a few strands of hair. "Arrrrrggghhhh!" Ashley let out a piercing scream that probably woke every creature in a 30-mile radius. Then, she fell.

"Noooooo!" Gerald cried. He reached for Ashley midair, pulled her into his large, bricklike arm, and swung them into what appeared to be a basket made of hair before releasing his rope. He laid her on the bottom of the glistening nest of mahogany hair and protectively spread his body over hers.

Heart pummeling against her chest, she wrapped her arms around Gerald, pressed her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him—freshly-forked hay and new snow—and promptly, sobbed. He held her, for once, not speaking.

After what felt like hours, Ashley pulled back, scooting out from under him, and sitting. She wiped her eyes with his cloak. Mortified at her weakness, she opened her mouth to say something pithy, but was silenced by the look of concerned terror on Gerald's face, his eyes— dark as tombs—seemed to say, I almost lost you, I almost lost you, over and over.

Ashley's heart expanded. No one, not ever in her life, had looked at her that way. "Thank you," she said, "for rescuing me."

"It's in my job description," Gerald said, grinning. Page 47, line 6—rescue the princess from any and all situations of mortal danger, including but not limited to: dragon kidnapping, burning buildings, oversexed unicorns, and falling from great heights."

He was trying to help her save face by cracking a joke, and for this, she fell in love with him a little more. "So, that's the only reason you saved me?" Ashley said.

"Not the only reason."

"What were the others?"

"Well, for one thing, that ear-splitting scream of yours had to be preserved for posterity."

"I don't think I screamed that loud."

Gerald grinned. "It nearly woke the dead. It almost caused an avalanche. Could've won a contest for 'loudest scream in human history.' My ears are still throbbing." Gerald pushed his now-defrosted errant curl away from his forehead. Ashley's stomach did a little flip.

"At least it was award-winning," Ashley said, straightening her back in an attempt at princess-like composure.

"That it was, Princess."

"Would you two make the beast with two backs already?" Derek said, reminding Ashley that she and Gerald weren't the only two people in the universe, and they had responsibilities. Apparently, while she was distracted by nearly-dying, everyone's hair rope had grown a basket. "Your sexual tension is driving us all batty."

Despite the blistering chill air and the flurry of snowfall, Ashley's face warmed.

"I am her employee, Prince Derek, not her suitor," Gerald said.

Derek wriggled his green eyebrows, which looked like twin caterpillars. "Ah, Sir Gerald. Does this mean you're available? Because there's lots of room over here in my basket."

"I'm good," Gerald said. "Maybe another time."

"Hey," Ashley said. "You're my knight."

"Just keeping you on your toes," Gerald said, removing a spider from his forearm and placing it on the side of the basket.

"You!" Ashley said.

"What?"

"Wish for a place to rest?"

"Yeah? It worked, didn't it?"

"You might've warned me what would happen."

"Look, a spider needs to find amusement where it can. Besides, you're the only one who had a problem."

"That's only because mine happened first. The others knew what to expect."

"Never listen to a spider," the spider said. "Except for now. Hold on!"

Suddenly, their basket swayed and crashed against the slick, icy rock. Ashley shrieked. Her stomach flip-flopped.

"Princess, are you all right?" Gerald scooted to the center, grabbing Ashley by the waist and pulling her close. Everyone screeched as their nests also slammed against the mountainside.

"What's happening?" Ashley said, pushing away to try and get a better look at what might be the cause. Their nest became a pendulum, repeatedly bashing against the ice-covered rock, rattling the small bones at the back of her neck. Chunks of ice and snow sheared off the mountain, exploding in enormous white clouds on the pointy rocks below.

"The hair ropes have gone insane," Kai screeched.

"This is awesome," Layyin exclaimed, holding the sides of her basket and dangling her feet over the edge like an over-sugared child with a death wish.

"Something is trying to kill us," Sadira cried.

"I agree," Derek said. "A powerful something, I suspect."

The nest struck the mountain so hard, Ashley bit down hard on her tongue, tasting the sour, metallic tinge of blood.

Layyin spread her arms. "Wheeeeeeee! I'm flying!"

"Remember, my love," Terrowin called in his gruff voice, "you don't have wings."

"Layyin, hun, Terrowin is right. You are not a unicorn or a bird or any other object capable of flight," Sadira said. "Sit down."

A bellow, deep and mournful, like a beast's lament, shook the canyon.

Not the good kind of moan like the one that you might hear from an enthusiastic lover.

The bad kind.

Like the one from a monster.

But what kind?

A mountain troll? Pack of snowwolves? A tribe of goats, angry someone was using their path without permission?

The nest lurched again. Something, no, someone, was pulling the heroes simultaneously toward the top of the mountain. "Now what?" Sadira said.

"There must be an army up there," Ashley said.

"Or a couple of very strong octopi," Gerald said. Ashley wrinkled her brow. "Because of all the arms."

Snowflakes coated Ashley's eyelashes, impeding what could have been an epic eye-roll.

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"Maybe there was something in the prophecy that could be a clue as to what lies in wait. Do you remember it?" Gerald said.

"A bit. Prophecies are always gibberish, which makes it difficult to commit to the brain. I think the kingdom needs a proclamation that all prophecies must be written in normal English. Anyone who uses a riddle or arcane language in a prophecy shall be sent to the rack without any supper."

Gerald stroked Ashley's hair. She shivered and not just from the snow. "I like it when you talk like an overlord," he cooed. "It's sexy."

"Uh, thanks? Wait! I think I remembered something useful. From the prophecy."

"What?" Gerald said.

"Hey, everyone," Ashley said, pointing to the bottom of her basket. "Dig. Hide inside the hair! Don't move, no matter what. And be quiet." The others nodded.

Gerald's eyes brightened as understanding seeped in. "... hide behind the hair of a prisoner, fool the troll ..."

"Exactly," Ashley said. They tunneled beneath the layers of the hair basket until their bodies were completely encased. Gerald's once again atop Ashley's.

"I like your idea. Very much," Gerald said.

If she was about to be pummeled by a troll, what better way to go than in the embrace of a deliciously-smelling knight with pillow-soft lips, with whom she was in love. Should she tell him? "Gerald?" she breathed.

"Yes?" he breathed back.

"Nothing," she said. "Nothing at all."

"So, what's the plan after we're at the top?"

"We remain perfectly still and quiet until the troll gets bored. This could be a good thing. It's saving us from having to climb half the mountain."

"Should we send a thank you note?"

"Good idea. Now, how do I get you to stay silent?"

"I know," Gerald said, pressing those pillow-soft lips to hers and kissing her, long and hard. Ashley's skin tingled as if someone had sprinkled it with fairy dust. And for quite some time, no one said a word.

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The underside of the basket scraped over an edge. Solid land lay beneath them for the first time in hours. Ashley prayed.

"I know you're in there," came that bellowy voice. "Come out, come out, or I will have a great big pout. I smell you with my clever snout. I want to eat you with sauerkraut. I hope that you are very stout because there's been a human drought."

Ashley held her breath and dug her face into Gerald's shoulder, trying not to laugh at the miserable rhyme.

"Hey," Gerald whispered, wriggling. "Stop that."

"Shhh."

"Something hard poked me," Gerald said.

"I know the feeling," Ashley muttered. "But remember? The plan where we're practicing being invisible?"

Too late for that line of reasoning. Something lifted Gerald off of her, leaving her chilled and bereft.

"Troll!" Gerald cried. "Why have you disturbed my basket where I was totally alone with my thoughts as I did my daily meditation?"

Ashley winced. Lame. Gerald needs to improve his lying abilities. Not that I'm any better, Ashley reminded herself.

"You're amusing, human man," said the troll. Moments later, an arm marred by lines of rope burns, smelling of decayed toadstools, wrapped around Ashley's torso, pulled her from the nest, and tossed her into a snowbank, which was actually pretty thoughtful of her as it was a soft landing. "See, I knew you had a companion," the troll said, holding her nose. "She smells awful. Like that disgusting vegetation. What's it called? Oh, yeah. Flowers," spat the mountain troll.

The troll stood at least twelve feet tall and had bare feet the size and skin-consistency of a roast turkey. Poor creature definitely had want of a pedicure. She had ankle-length salt and pepper hair. Although calling it hair was generous. It was mostly split ends matted together with cat fur. Even more concerning than the coiffure and feet was the whirr of a club, the size of an oak trunk, which the troll spun menacingly in her left hand.

Ashley gulped, imagining what might happen if the club collided with one of her friends' heads. She peeked at the occupied baskets, which lay silent as tombs in the snow. Thank heavens the troll had so far ignored them. Ashley had to keep from being eaten because once the troll had her fill of princess pate and knightly kibble, she'd unwrap the other "groceries" and continue the feast. The princess stood, brushing the snow off of Gerald's soiled cape, surveying the icy plateau.

Behind the twelve-foot, toenail-challenged troll, loomed a narrow ice bridge snaking over a vast cavern. Littered across the entrance to the bridge, lay a boneyard of illustrated "no trespassing" signs, with graphic examples of what would happen to those not heeding the warning. Most of the drawings included decapitated, drawn-and-quartered, hanging, bloody stick figures. And beneath the boneyard of illustrated signs, was an actual boneyard of bones that looked like they might be human. No happy faces on these signs. Ashley threw up a little in her mouth.

It seemed art was not the troll's forte, but the scrawls did get the message across effectively enough.

A plan began to take shape. All Ashley had to do was figure out how to cross the bridge without any limb detachments or decapitations.

But how?

Perhaps a polite introduction?

Ashley swallowed hard and took two steps toward the troll, staying as far from the twirling club as she could while at the same time trying to seem friendly and non-threatening. "Hi! My name is Ashley," she smiled warmly. "I'm from the Kingdom of Ever After. This is my loyal knight, Gerald." He shook his head at Ashley in a manner that seemed to convey his disapproval of the whole "let's be polite" angle.

"Charmed," Gerald said, bowing.

"We're here on official kingdom business and mean you no harm. We would only like to pass over your impressive bridge and be out of your ... um ... hair."

"I am The Guardian. My life's calling is to guard that." The Guardian stopped spinning the club and used it to point at the bridge. "It's my one job. While my brethren are in the business of architecture or orc extermination or professional underwater ballet, I get to stand here, alone, in the freezing cold, starving half to death."

Honestly, with all those human bones, Ashley doubted the Guardian's claim of starvation, but wisely, said nothing on the subject.

"Nice to meet you, Guardian," Ashley curtseyed. "Perhaps we can work out a mutually-beneficial exchange for you, allowing us to pass?"

"I require nothing but supper." The Guardian licked her lips, drool dripping onto her leather apron. "Now keep still, and I'll make it quick," she ordered, lifting the club over her head. "The knight first. He'll be the entrée. You're too scrawny to be anything but a light snack."

"Wait!" Ashley cried, rushing toward Gerald and placing her body in front of him, arms outstretched.

"What are you doing?" Gerald said, pushing her aside. "You heard the troll. Me first."

"No, it's my fault you're here. Me first."

"No, me."

Suddenly, the troll squinted her eyes in pain and dropped her weapon; the massive bulk striking the ground with such force, the earth shifted beneath Ashley's feet. In her attempt to remain upright, she fell into Gerald's arms. Meanwhile, the Guardian raced in a circle, bending forward and back, hands pressed to her ears.

"What's happening?" Ashley said.