The boy's eyes lit up when I escorted him through the door. Central heating gave way to a cold wind which stirred his dark hair and peppered it with white flakes.

"Wow," the boy said. And of course he did. He was ten. Going through one's closet into a winter wonderland was a wow moment at any age, but especially at ten.

"Is it not as I promised you?" I asked the boy. He had a name. Again, of course. His name was James. But he would remain "the boy."

"Better," he breathed out, reaching over to rake snow from a tree branch with his fingers. Feeling the cold. Ensuring that it was all real. It was, of course.

It was at that moment the Lion strode into view. Even in the dim grey light of a sun hidden by winter snow clouds, he gave off a radiance, as though lit from within. Whereas the hair on my legs was caked with snow, and the boy's hair was becoming whiter by the moment, the Lion's golden hair was seemingly untouched. Any flakes that dared to meet his person would melt instantly.

I bowed, placing one hoof in front of the other as I did so, and nudged the boy to do the same. He did, following my lead as best he could.

"James of the Other World, here seeking an audience with his majesty," I announced.

The Lion nodded. "Rise, young James. Long have I waited to meet you. Long has the Realm had need of you."

The boy had begun to straighten but stopped at this, uttering a little sound. Who could blame him? The Lion, our monarch, looked as though he wanted for nothing. But our Lord spoke the truth all the same. "Me?" he said finally.

"Aye," the Lion replied in his majestic rumble. "The time came for you to join us here, and help us against a powerful enemy. Come, James. Walk with me for a time."

I walked behind the two of them at a respectable distance. The Lion told the boy about the plight of the realm, of the Witch who had plunged us into endless winter, and of the few free folk like ourselves, who still stand against her.

The boy believed it, of course. Why should he not? He had passed through the door. He had left his world behind. He had been offered proof that magic was real, now and here.

The Lion stopped and nodded towards the horizon. "There," he told the boy. "There, James, do you see the witch's stronghold? There near the horizon?"

James–no–the boy squinted for the castle, taking a couple of steps forward and shielding his eyes. It had stood there, yes, that much was true. But we had destroyed it and its master many, many years before. "Your highness," he began, perhaps to ask a question.

The Lion bit into the boy's neck and shoulder with one closing crunch of his jaws. The boy inhaled to scream and his free arm flailed but after his voice box was crushed, no sound could penetrate the monarch's bite. The Lion gave one single, brief shake, and the boy went limp.

Another moment and the Lion had released him, the body falling with a soft slump into the red snow, eyes glassy and staring. And in those eyes I saw…that he believed. Right until the end. Of course. I pick the children well.

I have no choice.

I stood back and watched the Lion feed, and within minutes the boy had been reduced to an unrecognizable jumble of gore. The Lion then fixed his gaze on me.

"Where is she?" he said in a growl, barely audible above the stirring of wind and trees.

My mouth opened and no sound came out. Like the boy, my voice box had been rendered useless with a movement of the Lion's jaws. Mine was not lethal, no. Of course. If only.

"Spare me your feigned ignorance, fawn. I can smell her on him. He has a sister, does he not? She is…what, eight years old?"

My silence was his answer.

"Did she remind you of your own daughter?"

Again, I could not speak.

"Her absence here is certainly reminding me of your daughter." And he lowered his head to penetrate me with those golden eyes. "Do we understand each other, half-breed?"

"Yes, sire," I managed to say.

"Good. Then cover up this mess and go back through the door. And fetch me what I want before I lose my temper."

By now, he was standing in front of me. His breath was hot and rank and smelling of lifeless meat.

"Yes, sire," I said again, and went about my task. He stalked away, satisfied for the moment, while I buried the boy's remains in the snow.

The girl would be simple to acquire. Her brother would need help in a magical kingdom, and she must go to him at once. That would get her up and dressed in a hurry. Which was good. It was good that children still believed in things such as us. For my liege's hunger is neverending. Of course. Of course it is.