The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom

by Christopher Healy

  “Technicalities,” the dwarf replied.

  “Are you afraid? What’s the matter, never kissed a girl before?” another dwarf taunted.

  “Ha-ha! Oh, no, no, no. That’s not it at all. How ridiculous,” Duncan fake-laughed. “It’s just that kissing a girl while she’s asleep feels, you know, a little wrong. But hey, it’s to save a life, right? And she is kind of cute.”

  “Do it!” shouted several dwarfs together.

  Duncan leaned over the apple-cheeked girl, put his lips to hers, and watched her eyes flutter open. “That was awesome,” he giggled.

  Duncan lucked out once again: Snow White fell in love with him. As it turned out, the two had a lot in common. They were both short. They both liked bird-watching, lanyards, and lengthy flute solos. They got married right away.

  Snow White was a princess, and she was marrying a prince, so you’d imagine the royal wedding was a huge, mega-popular event, right? But barely anybody showed up. On one side of the chapel, the only guests were Duncan’s parents, his sisters, and the few royal courtiers they forced to attend. On the other side were Snow White’s wrinkly old father and seven stone-faced dwarfs. That’s because Snow White was odd, too. And kind of a loner. Most of her life had been spent in the forest, talking to animals rather than people. She was no more popular than Duncan. Or at least that was the case until the minstrels made her a legend with the latest song from Wallace Fitzwallace, royal bard of Sylvaria.

  Fig. 17 Snow WHITE

  Shortly after the wedding, “The Tale of Snow White” started making the rounds, and people from all over Sylvaria stopped by the castle, hoping to see the famous princess and her Prince Charming. Of course, as soon as they realized that the Prince Charming in question was Duncan, they voiced their disappointment: “You? This must be a prank. Do you realize that the word ‘charming’ is supposed to mean that people like you?”

  Life had been hard enough for Duncan before, when nobody spoke to him; now that he was Prince Charming, people spoke to him about why they didn’t want to speak to him.

  Soon Prince Duncan and Snow White moved out of the royal castle (and away from mocking, gawking visitors) to a secluded manor in the countryside. There, Duncan let his quirkiness flow freely. He organized his toothpick collection alphabetically (they were all filed under T); he practiced sitting upside-down; he loudly yelled out the name of every animal that ran through their yard (not the type of animal it was, but the actual name he thought it should have, like “Chester,” “Skippy,” or “J. P. McWiggins”). Defying all odds, Snow White found him entertaining. Duncan was the first human she enjoyed spending time with.

  Fig. 18 CHESTER

  Fig. 18 SKIPPY

  Even Snow White had her limits, though. She was the kind of solitary soul for whom sharing a house with another person would always be something of a chore. And sharing a house with a high-energy chatterbox like Duncan often felt like living with an entire troupe of circus performers. As time went by, Snow felt cramped and crowded. Eventually, her patience wore out.

  Fig. 18 J.P. McWIGGINS

  One morning, she went out into the garden by herself for some peace and solitude. Duncan followed her outside, as he always did. “I bet I can find more worms than you,” he said.

  On a different day, Snow White might have accepted the challenge, grabbed a spoon, and started digging. But her nerves were on edge.

  “No!” she exploded, and her outburst surprised both of them. “Sorry, I don’t know where that came from. I think I just need a little quiet time.”

  “Sure thing,” Duncan said. He folded his hands, looked out into the surrounding forest, rocked on his heels, and whistled.

  “Um, darling?”

  “Sorry.” He stopped whistling, and remained silent for all of thirty seconds before shouting, “Captain Spaulding!”

  Snow White was so startled she nearly fell over. “What? Who?” she gasped.

  Duncan could sense the testiness in her voice, and he found it very unnerving. “That raccoon over there,” he said sheepishly. “I named it Captain Spaulding.”

  “Look, Duncan,” Snow said, taking a deep breath. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but the main reason I liked the dwarfs was because they barely talk to anyone.”

  “Okay, I get it,” he said nervously. “No talking for a while. I can handle that. I’ll just get my flute.”

  “No,” Snow said. “Go do something else. Without me.”

  “Without you?”

  “Yes. You can do things without me, you know. Go take a walk somewhere. Find some other princes to play with. Believe me, it’ll do you good.”

  “I see,” Duncan said. This was the first time Snow had ever reacted negatively toward him. It brought back all sorts of uncomfortable old emotions. He was suddenly feeling like a seven-year-old boy again, standing alone outside that clubhouse door that said NO PRINCES ALLOWED. Snow White was the only person who had ever really liked him, and he feared he was losing favor with her now, too. He was overreacting, of course, but a sensible reaction would have been greatly out of character for Duncan.

  “Okay then, I’m off for a walk in the woods,” he called out to her as he left, hoping that some time away from him would make her realize how much she missed his company. “I’m sure I’ll have tons of fun all by myself. “

  Pretending to be carefree and not at all anxious, he blew Snow a kiss and strolled out of the garden, whistling. Within twenty minutes he was hopelessly lost. Two days later, after countless miles of wandering through the woods and eating nothing but berries (but not the polka-dot ones), he happened upon Frederic, Liam, and Gustav. My magical luck brought these men to me, he thought happily. Just when I was at my lowest, loneliest moment: three new friends.

  Duncan filled everyone in on his story.

  “So, you’re the Prince Charming from Sylvaria,” Liam said, finally understanding that the candelabra salesman had sent Frederic and Gustav to look for Duncan, and not him.

  “Sadly, yes,” Duncan replied. “Most people aren’t too happy about that.”

  “Well, here’s a coincidence you’re not going to believe,” Frederic said.

  “Try me,” Duncan replied. “I believe almost everything.”

  Frederic, Liam, and Gustav explained to Duncan who they were and how they came to be together. Well, Frederic and Liam did most of the talking—Gustav basically grunted and mumbled things like “We don’t have time for this.” Duncan became more and more animated as he listened. By the time the other princes had finished their story, he was shimmying in place.

  “Do you need to, um … go?” Liam asked.

  “Ha! No,” Duncan burst out. “This is the most fabulous thing ever! Here we are, the four Princes Charming. All together in one place.”

  “Prince Charmings,” said Gustav.

  “No, Princes Charming,” Duncan cheerfully corrected. “‘Prince’ is the noun; that’s what gets pluralized. ‘Charming’ is an adjective; you can’t add an S to it like that.”

  “It sounds stupid,” Gustav said.

  “Anyway, my answer is YES!” Duncan beamed.

  “What was the question?” Liam asked.

  “I’m coming with you,” Duncan said. “To rescue Cinderella. That sounds like a fantastic thing to do.”

  “No, you’re not,” Gustav said bluntly.

  “Yes, I’m coming,” Duncan insisted.

  “Are you sure?” Liam asked. “I mean, we weren’t actually going to ask—”

  “Absolutely,” Duncan declared with a huge smile. “This was meant to be. I’m coming with you.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Gustav moaned. “Another one with a cape? And an itty-bitty cape at that!”

  “I think it’s rather snazzy,” said Frederic.

  “Why, thank you,” said Duncan. “I wanted something that I could swish over my shoulder for dramatic entrances—and yet not get caught in doors.”

  “All right, fine,” said Liam. “We c
an always use another sword. Are you any good with a blade?”

  “Ha!” laughed Duncan.

  Liam furrowed his brow. “Is that ‘Ha,’ as in, ‘How silly of you to ask; everyone knows I’m the best swordsman in the land’?” he asked hopefully.

  “No, that was ‘Ha,’ as in, ‘I’ve never even held a sword,’” Duncan answered. “But I will provide all the flute music we need. Leroy!”

  The other three stared at Duncan, perplexed.

  “Who’s Leroy?” Frederic asked.

  “Oh,” Duncan said. “There’s a bunny over there between those trees. He looked like a Leroy to me.”

  Awkward silence.

  “Well, we should probably get moving,” Liam said. He held his hand out to Duncan. “Hop on. You can ride with me.”

  “One moment, please,” Duncan said. “Snow might be worrying about me, since I did, you know, vanish a few days ago. I need to get a message to her.”

  “Good luck with that,” Gustav smirked. “You don’t know where you are, remember?”

  “Too true. I have no idea how to get home from here,” Duncan replied. He opened up a small bag that hung at his belt and felt around inside it. “I just need a … ah, here we go.” He pulled out a quill pen, a small piece of paper, and a tiny bottle of ink.

  “You carry a desk set around with you?” Frederic asked, impressed.

  “Not usually,” said Duncan. “But I had this pen and ink in my bag from a few days ago when I was taking inventory of our chipmunks, and luckily, it’s still in there.”

  Leaning his paper against the hindquarters of Liam’s horse, Duncan jotted down a short note:

  Dearest Snow,

  You were right! Met other princes in the woods. Going with them to rescue Cinderella. See you when we get back.

  Toodles, D.

  “How are you going to get it to her?” Liam asked.

  “I don’t know,” Duncan replied. He rolled the paper up and tied it tight with a blade of long grass. He tossed his little scroll on the ground and shrugged. “As I was saying before, I have magical luck. I’m just assuming this note will get to Snow somehow.”

  “Tell me again why we’re letting this guy come with us,” Gustav said.

  Suddenly a robin darted out of the branches of a nearby tree, snatched the scroll up in its clawed feet, and flapped out of sight. Duncan beamed. After a few seconds, Liam said, “Well, that doesn’t mean the note is going to get to Snow White, wherever she is.”

  “No,” said Duncan, still smiling. “But you have to admit, it was pretty neat. Shall we go?” He climbed up to sit behind Liam on his horse. He sat backward at first; then Liam helped him turn around.

  “Last chance to bail out,” Liam said, a bit hopefully. “And no hard feelings if you do.”

  “Where else am I going to go?” Duncan said. “I was lost in the woods.”

  “Fair enough,” Liam said. And the quartet set off.

  “Well, I for one am happy to have you along, Duncan,” Frederic chimed in. “I liked that trick with the robin.”

  “Pah! He’s not magic, you know,” Gustav said to Frederic. “All he did was give some bird a new little stick for its nest. So what? Even you are a better prince than he is.”

  Frederic’s eyes widened. “Gustav, was that a compliment?”

  “At least you don’t wear a cape.”

  “So, Duncan,” Liam asked, changing the subject. “You and Snow White got married, eh?”

  “Oh, yes. We’re happily in love,” Duncan replied, not wanting his new buddies to learn that he and Snow had had any sort of tiff.

  “So, you believe that myth about sleeping spells?” Liam asked. “That it needs to be a kiss from someone’s true love in order to break the curse?”

  “Of course not,” Duncan scoffed. “Snow was a total stranger to me when I first kissed her. No, I think anybody’s kiss would have worked.”

  “Thank you!” Liam shouted triumphantly. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along, but nobody believes me. Will you please tell that to the stupid people of my kingdom?”

  “Sure,” Duncan said. “But you’ll need to point out which are the stupid ones. I’d hate to get that wrong. Hey, who wants to hear me whistle the alphabet backward?”

  The princes continued to chitchat as they went on through the forest, with Duncan trying to gauge how the other princes felt about him. He’d never been very good at determining whether someone was entertained or annoyed by him. But he was pretty sure he saw both Frederic and Liam smile a few times. He was going to have to work a little harder on Gustav.

  As they rode along, Duncan didn’t worry at all that they were heading off to do battle with a villainous witch and her giant bodyguard. He was sure that whatever happened, it would all end just fine. Because he believed he was magic. Which he wasn’t.

  He did, however, have an almost supernatural way of distracting people. While he blathered on about the best uses for thimbles and his favorite shape of noodle, none of the princes noticed the MISSING poster tacked to a roadside tree, the poster that bore a sketch of a man wearing a big, floppy feathered cap and holding a mandolin.

  7

  PRINCE CHARMING HAS NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON

  While the four princes were setting off on their rescue mission, the damsel they planned to rescue had long since rescued herself. Here’s how it went down: After the collapse of the witch’s prison tower, Ella was carried across Sturmhagen in the burlap shirt pocket of Reese, the giant. Concerned for both herself and Frederic—what in the world had he been doing there?—she knew she had to plot an escape as soon as possible. Throughout the very bumpy (and itchy) trip, she slowly worked at pulling loose a thread that ran across the bottom of the huge pocket, thankful, for once, that her stepmother had forced her to do all of the family’s sewing and mending. As she furiously unraveled the stitching, she listened to Zaubera, the witch, berate her humongous henchman.

  “You clumsy oaf,” Zaubera yelled from her seat on Reese’s fat palm. “You klutzy doofus. You uncoordinated lummox.” She’d cast the thesaurus spell on herself.

  For the most part, the giant remained silent and took the abuse. But every now and again, he’d murmur, with surprisingly proper speech, “I don’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to me.” To which Zaubera would respond, “Do you think I care? You bunglesome clodpole.”

  Ella wasn’t fast enough to create a human-size hole in the giant’s pocket before they reached Zaubera’s home (giants can get pretty much anywhere quickly; they take big steps). But she had taken note of Reese’s frustration with his unmannered mistress and planned to use it to her advantage.

  When the giant plucked her from his shirt, Ella got a glimpse of her new surroundings. She was in the mountains, outside a tremendous fortress constructed entirely of stark black stone. Grotesque, carved granite gargoyles jutted out from every ledge and rain gutter, and the walls were crisscrossed with eerie purplish ivy. But the structure’s most prominent feature was its two-hundred-foot-tall observatory tower. Topped off by a pointed, bloodred roof, the tower looked like a colossal spear stabbing into the heavens.

  Zaubera snapped her fingers, and her stronghold’s huge wooden double doors swung open. The witch prodded Ella inside and directed her up ten flights of stairs (only halfway up the sky-high tower). There, Ella was locked inside a cramped room furnished with nothing more than a splintery wooden cot and threadbare blanket.

  A few moments later, through her cell’s lone window, Ella saw the witch emerge from the fortress. Floating behind her was a massive bubble, inside of which Ella could see a jumble of people piled upon one another. She couldn’t tell who they were or even how many of them were in there; all she could really make out was a tangle of arms and legs, lots of shiny, shimmery fabric, and several oversize floppy hats.

  “Stay alert, Reese,” Zaubera warned. “Those two nimrods will eventually show up here for another rescue attempt. I know their types. The skinny one will have wanted
to rush out for help, but the big hero will push him straight to us. I don’t expect him to give us any real trouble, but just as a precaution, I figure it’s best to split up the La-La Lads here, put them each in his own separate prison. At least until I’m ready for the finale.”

  “Sounds sensible, ma’am,” Reese said.

  “I don’t need to remind you that you’ve got the most important hostage right here, Reese,” Zaubera warned. “I’m going to come back here with some assistance for you.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary, ma’am,” Reese said.

  Zaubera narrowed her eyes. “Do you fear me, Reese?”

  The giant’s huge Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Yes,” he said.

  “That was the right answer, Reese,” Zaubera said. Then she curled her fingers and launched a crackling ball of energy into the giant’s already injured shin. Reese’s howl of pain echoed through miles of forest.

  “Don’t foul things up,” she said as Reese crouched down to massage his scalded leg. And she left.

  Ella looked at the giant. An enormous tear appeared to be welling up in the corner of his eye.

  Zaubera left, with her bubble of glittery prisoners bobbing behind her as she walked. As soon as the witch was out of earshot, Ella leaned out the window and spoke to the giant at his eye level. “Why do you let her treat you like that?”

  Reese flinched in surprise, causing the earth to rumble. Ella gripped the windowsill.

  “Sorry about that,” the giant said after the tremor subsided. “The prisoners don’t usually talk to me. Especially the famous ones.”

  “Famous? Oh, please, just think of me as your average, garden-variety hostage,” said Ella, realizing that her captor was a bit starstruck. “But you didn’t answer my question. The witch, she’s terrible to you. Why don’t you just—I don’t know—squish her?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that, ma’am,” Reese said. “That would be awfully impolite. My mother didn’t raise me that way. She always told me never to hurt a lady.”