I waited for Guenevere to come to town. She didn’t. I had to go to her. Fortunately, I knew the Windfall forest well. Unfortunately, everything had changed. Clearings disappeared and new ones formed. A lake sprung up overnight.

A wolf too large to be of our world, its teeth and claws like blades, attacked. Armed only with a pen knife, I fended it off, but it was a battle I’d have soon lost. My throat was all but in the creature’s jaws when a glowing sight appeared. The apparition challenged the wolf and led it on a chase. Seeing my chance, I ran—ran for my life.

Hours passed, the sun set, and I found what I sought. The maze.

But what a sight I was. Bloodied and battered. My clothing was in such a state I was tempted to go back. Then the day’s heat was slipping away and the night’s cold rolling in. The need for warmth overcame my vanity. Comforting myself with the thought of taking shelter with Guenevere, I entered the maze.

I didn’t dally. A wolf howl urged me on.

The maze wasn’t more than thirty yards deep. Its twists and turns should have been few. Yet night fell and I hadn’t found its center. A cross and its steeple remained in sight but gave no clue what direction to go. I was lost, hopelessly so.

The hours passed. The air grew colder, the wind sharper. I had no choice but to give up. My real defeat came when I realized I couldn’t find my way out either. I was trapped and about to freeze to death.

I found a sheltered corner to settle in and pulled my wolf-tattered cloak close. The cacophony of my chattering teeth broke the silence of the night. I wanted now only to see another dawn. Deep down inside, I knew I had little chance of doing so.

Black and enormous, I saw its shadow first.

The wolf had returned. I heard its snarl. In my mind’s eye, I remembered its teeth before seeing the pearly glint in the scant light. I was exhausted, hungry, and cold. I knew. There’d be no fighting it off a second time. Still, I raised my little blade. I knew now I should have brought a pistol. I readied myself for the coming of canines and claws.

I waited … I waited … nothing.

The wolf did not attack. Struck by a daze, it was stopped. Its paw hung suspended.

I turned to what had its eye.

In the glow of a lantern, her hair was liquid gold. Rays of light shown through the pale pink of her billowing skirt, outlining her slender, long legs. Her face was a pearl under moonlit water. It was Guenevere. I yelled a warning, certain the wolf would kill us both. She came ever closer, not stopping until she was at my side.

The wolf broke its trance and snarled again.