It was warm and dusty in the stables, and the snow falling outside seemed very far away. I lifted the royal heir slowly straight up with magic, then sideways over the wooden gate of the stall. He stretched out his legs, remembering not to kick, as I set him down on the gelding’s broad back. The horse turned its head in some surprise to stare at him, but Paul stroked its mane and spoke soothingly. At age eight, the boy was already better with horses than I had ever been.

“Ready?” I said, then lifted him slowly up again, over the gate, and back beside me.

Paul grinned at me, and I grinned back, with the schoolboy feeling of getting away with something naughty. Paul was perfectly safe, I knew, and would not fall off even the biggest horse as long as my magic held him, but I was still fairly sure that, if asked, the queen would not have approved.

“Now this horse,” said Paul.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “We’re not going to proceed through the entire stable, putting you on the back of every horse in Yurt.”

“Well, you did agree, Wizard,” he said, looking at me with calculating green eyes, “that riding my pony wasn’t going to prepare me for bigger horses.”

“That still doesn’t mean I’m going to lift you onto every horse here. Choose one more, then we’d better stop.”

Paul walked down the row of stalls, considering. Gwennie, who had observed him silently so far, went after him.

They came back together. “The chestnut stallion at the far end,” said Paul. “Then I promise not to ask any more.”

“But that’s your cousin Dominic’s stallion. It’s the biggest horse we have.”

“I know,” said Paul. “That’s why I chose him. You promised!” he added when I hesitated.

Prince Dominic, I was quite sure, would not approve of his young cousin sitting, even for a minute and even if very quietly, on his favorite stallion. But if I was willing to go along with Paul’s game in spite of what the queen might think, I was certainly not going to worry about Dominic.