As she galloped the final miles to the gate, wondering whether her legs 
and back would hold out, a thin steam of black issued from a narrow portal high 
in one of the floating stockades, thickened into a transparent ball, and dove 
toward her like a plunging comet. She could not help flinching from the 
illusion of mass and momentum, but, a stone's throw above her head the cloud of 
ravens parted into several contingents that whirled around and struck from 
several directions, converging on her, passing around her so closely that the 
wind from their rattling wings blew her hair back, finally reforming into a 
disciplined group that returned to its stockade without a look back. Apparently 
she had passed the inspection. When she reached the mighty gate, it was 
standing open for her, and no one was guarding it. Princess Nell rode into the 
broad streets of King Coyote's castle.