Finally she crested the pass, and none too soon, as the horses' hooves 
had begun to slip on a thick layer of ice, and ice had begun thickly to coat 
the reins and to weigh down the animals' manes and tails. Working her way down 
the switchbacks, she left the high fury of the storm behind and pushed into 
masses of rain as dense as any jungle. It was well that she had paused for a 
few days at the foot of the mountains to review all of Purple's magic books, 
for on this night ride through the mountains she used every spell Purple had 
taught her: spells for casting light, for choosing the right fork in the road, 
for calming animals and warming chilled bodies, for bolstering her own failing 
courage, for sensing the approach of any monsters foolish enough to venture out 
in such weather, and for defeating those desperate enough to attack. This night 
ride was, perhaps, a rash act, but Princess Nell proved equal to the challenge. 
King Coyote would not expect her to make such a crossing. Tomorrow when the 
storm on high had cleared, he would send his raven sentinels winging through 
the pass and down into the plain below to spy on her, as he had for the last 
several days, and they would return with dismaying news: The Princess had 
vanished! Even King Coyote's best trackers would not be able to follow her path 
from yesterday's campsite, so craftily had she covered her real tracks and laid 
false ones.