The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom

by Christopher Healy

  “But it’s okay to kidnap young women?”

  “Mum never said anything specifically about kidnapping. But look, I never did hurt you now, did I?”

  “No, I suppose not. As far as kidnappers go, you’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

  “Why, thank you. My mum would be proud to hear it.”

  “Tell me something, sir,” Ella said.

  “Oh, please, ma’am,” the giant interrupted. “Call me Reese.”

  “Thank you. Tell me, Reese: Your mother sounds like a very well-mannered woman. What would she think of that witch you work for?”

  “That’s an interesting question.” Reese scratched his head, sending huge white flakes of dandruff fluttering down like a freak snowstorm. “I think she’d certainly have some problems with her. Mostly the name-calling. Mum isn’t a fan of that sort of thing.”

  “So how did you get hooked up with someone as rude as your boss?” Ella asked.

  “Mum had been after me for quite a while to get a job, so when I saw the ad, I thought I’d go for it.”

  “Witches put out ads for henchmen?”

  Reese nodded. “You just have to know where to look.”

  “Fascinating,” Ella said. “So what do you do for the witch?”

  Reese looked worried. “Well, it’s all part of a big secret plot. So, I apologize, but I don’t think I should say. At least not until I check with the witch.”

  “That’s okay, Reese,” Ella said, trying to sound as gracious as possible. “I am your prisoner, after all, stuck here with no place to go. I suppose you can tell me whenever you want.”

  “You bring up a good point, ma’am,” the giant said. “Who are you going to tell, right? I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to share a few of the details with you.”

  Ella smiled.

  “Well, the witch has been snatching up those singing folks—the bards,” Reese said.

  Pennyfeather! Ella tried to mask the thrill she felt.

  “She’s got five of them,” Reese continued. “She needed somebody to keep an eye on the prisoners while she prepares for her big finale. She calls the whole thing her Supreme Scheme for Infamy.”

  “So she hired you to help,” Ella guessed.

  “Not originally, no. Her first helper was this ogre named Grimsby, but she turned him into a smoking pile of bacon after he let one of the prisoners escape. Took the witch days to get the little singing guy back again.”

  “I see. That’s when she hired you.”

  “No. After Grimsby was a pair of dog-men. But they were too easily distracted by squirrels. So … bacon.”

  “And then you?”

  Fig. 19 Rejected HENCHMEN

  Reese nodded.

  “So where is she putting the bards now?” Ella asked.

  “In some of her other towers, I suppose,” Reese said with a shrug. “She’s got towers all over the place.”

  “Aha, so you wouldn’t know exactly where those towers are, then?”

  “Afraid not, ma’am. The witch’ll probably hire some other guards for those fellows, anyway. I’ve got to stay here and watch you.”

  “And you’re doing a spectacular job, by the way,” Ella said with a curtsy.

  “Why, thank you, ma’am.” The giant crossed his arms and flashed Ella a big, gap-toothed smile (it’s hard for giants to find a toothbrush big enough for good dental hygiene).

  “So, Reese, what’s this big finale I keep hearing about?”

  “Ah, yes. The Grand Finale of Doom,” Reese said. “The name is a bit highfalutin, but the witch insists it’s going to be a massacre with pizzazz—her word, not mine.” Ella flinched at the word “massacre.” The witch is going to kill the bards, she thought. With no bards, the minstrels will have no new material. What will they sing about? Where will the people get new stories? How will anyone know anything? It was almost too unbearable an idea to contemplate.

  The giant went on. “The whole thing’s taking an awful lot of preparation. I was shown a diagram of what’s supposed to happen, but I couldn’t really understand it. It had lightning bolts and flying skulls, you name it. In one section of the sketch, it looked like the witch was shooting bears at people out of cannons. Personally, I think it’s a bit much. ‘Why not just drop a rock on them?’ I asked. But the old lady tells me I’m not thinking big enough. ‘Where’s your sense of drama?’ she says.”

  “This is very informative, Reese.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I do my best to be helpful.”

  Aside from the bit about murdering the bards, the conversation was quite pleasant. It was so politely engaging, in fact, that it reminded her of chatting with Frederic. And the thought of Frederic put another idea in her mind—one that would aid in her escape. “But Reese, I think you could be of service in a more important way.”

  “What can I do for you, ma’am? You are my captive, after all, and I will do whatever I can to make your stay comfortable.”

  “Have you ever been inside this tower, Reese?”

  “Oh, no, ma’am. I’ve never really seen the inside of the fortress at all. I can poke my head in through those big double doors down there, but I get stuck at the shoulders. And considering what happened to that last tower, I don’t want to chance it.”

  “Do you have any idea how damp and moldy it is in here?”

  “Is it now?” the giant asked, sounding somewhat embarrassed. “That’s terribly inhospitable. I’ll have to make sure that gets cleaned up when the witch returns.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not sure it can wait. I’m terribly allergic to molds, you see.” She tried to sound weak and woozy in the way Frederic did whenever he got a paper cut. “It’s so bad in here, I’m starting to get a bit dizzy. I’m afraid I might fall and hurt myself.”

  “Oh, we don’t want that to happen,” Reese said. “You should sit down for a spell.”

  “There’s no furniture in here. If I sit, I’ll be even closer to the moist, moldy floor. No, I have to try to stand. Even though I’ll probably pass out.” Ella made her voice faint and quivery. “And I don’t want to collapse and cause any harm to myself, because then it would be as if you hurt me by keeping me in here. And you’re a gentleman who would never hurt a lady. Oh, I’m having such difficulty breathing.”

  “But what can I do, ma’am?” Reese asked, distressed by the situation.

  “I’m sure some fresh air would help. Please just take me outside for a few moments.”

  “Oh, I can’t, ma’am. The witch said—”

  “The witch? The same woman who called you all those horrible names? What she says is more important than your own honor?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t.”

  “Look, Reese, I’m not asking you to set me free. I just need some air. You can put me back in your pocket.”

  “Oh,” said Reese, surprised by the suggestion. “That’s rather accommodating of you. Well, I suppose it is the polite thing to do.” He held his open palm by the window of Ella’s cell. “Go ahead, jump on.”

  Ella hopped through the window onto the giant’s hand, and he placed her gently into the same pocket where, hours earlier, she had begun creating an escape hole.

  “There you go, ma’am,” Reese said. “I hope that helps.”

  “It’s much better already, thank you,” Ella replied as she immediately began tugging at the loose thread.

  “I can’t believe she put you in a cell that was so unwelcoming,” Reese said. “I told her she ought to cast a dehumidifying spell in there.”

  Ella faked a big, loud yawn as she worked. “Oh, all that mold left me in such a weakened state. I’d better take a nap.”

  “Good thinking, ma’am,” Reese said. “You rest up now. I won’t bother you.”

  The giant sat down with his back against the tower and began humming softly. Twenty minutes later, Ella had unraveled enough thread to create a human-size hole in Reese’s pocket. She quickly slipped through it, stealthily slid down the giant’s big round belly,
and ran off into the nearby woods, feeling exhilarated by her escape, though also a bit sad at the thought that the witch would probably turn Reese into a heaping mound of smoking bacon when she realized her most important prisoner was missing.

  Reese, too, was worrying about smoking bacon mounds when he eventually peeked into his pocket and found it empty—which was why he broke the top off a nearby pine tree, carved it into a vaguely female shape, stuck some straw on it for hair, wrapped a little sheet around it for a dress, and placed it inside Ella’s cell, hoping Zaubera wouldn’t notice.

  Ella, meanwhile, was racing through the thick, monster-filled forests of an unfamiliar country. She gave no thought to the potential dangers. There were five prison towers to find. And five people to rescue. Her heart beat rapidly, not out of fear, but with excitement.

  8

  PRINCE CHARMING IS AFRAID OF THE DARK

  Not even Duncan’s sunny disposition was enough to ward off the epic storm that broke over central Sylvaria. As torrents of heavy rain pelted them from above, the four princes galloped through the forest on unhappy horses. A new boom of thunder shook the earth every few seconds, and wild winds whipped loose tree limbs across the riders’ path. In the sudden and pervasive darkness, the once cheery woodlands took on a more threatening tone.

  “Up ahead!” yelled Liam, who was leading the way. “A house, just beyond those trees!”

  The horses skidded to a muddy stop in front of a small cottage. It was the kind of place where you’d expect to find a little old gingham-clad grandmother stirring a pot of porridge or gruel or some other pastelike food. Frederic pointed out a small stable behind the building, and the princes led their mounts into it. The men hopped down onto the hay-strewn ground but could barely see one another in the darkness. Soon, however, there was a rustle of movement and a flash of light.

  “Look what I found,” Duncan said proudly, holding a lantern.

  “Lucky, huh?” Frederic smiled.

  “Wait, what’s your game, Mini-Cape?” Gustav barked accusatorily at Duncan. “Why aren’t you wet?” While the other three men were dripping, Duncan was—aside from damp leggings—noticeably dry.

  “The wind blew Liam’s cape over my head,” Duncan offered apologetically.

  Gustav grumbled something very unprincely about capes.

  “Duncan, bring your lantern,” he ordered. “Let’s go to the main house.”

  The door of the cottage was open, so the princes stepped inside. The soft lantern light revealed the one-room house to be utterly empty—nothing to see but bare floorboards and the occasional dead fly.

  “Plenty of space for somersaults,” Duncan said.

  “No beds,” Frederic added glumly. “So much for finally getting a good night’s sleep.”

  “No fireplace either,” said Liam. “It’s going to take a while for us to dry out.”

  “Wimps,” Gustav muttered.

  “It won’t be the most comfortable place to hole up for the night, but it’s better than being out in the storm,” Liam said.

  With a clank and a thud, Gustav plopped himself onto the floor. Liam wrung out his cape before doing the same. With a “Good night, fellow princes,” Duncan blew out the lantern’s flame, throwing the room into pitch blackness.

  Frederic curled himself into a tight ball. “Well, it’s not like this will be the first unpleasant night I’ve had since being on the road with you, Gustav,” he said.

  “That’s right. We’ve slept in worse places,” Gustav replied. “And you haven’t heard me complain once, have you?”

  “You complained when I wiped the gooseberries off your face,” Frederic said.

  “That was an invasion of my personal space,” Gustav retorted.

  “I’m sorry, but there was a huge glop of berries stuck to your cheek. Was I supposed to leave it there?” Frederic said. “It was like that scene from Sir Bertram the Dainty and the Disheveled Duke where the duke had spinach stuck between his teeth and—”

  “I love Sir Bertram!” Duncan gushed. “Did you read the one where he had to find those lost lobster bibs before all the dinner guests reached their second course?”

  “The Mystery of the Mystical Gravy Boat,” Frederic gleefully confirmed. “That’s one of my favorites.”

  Frederic and Duncan continued to jabber on excitedly about Sir Bertram. Neither of them had ever met another person who shared his wild enthusiasm for the dandy adventurer.

  “This is going to be a long night,” Gustav groaned.

  “I thought you never complained,” Liam said.

  “Shut up, Baron von Cape,” Gustav said. “Or I’ll make you sleep between the two yippity-yappers.”

  Eventually, exhaustion won out and all four princes fell asleep.

  Liam was in the middle of a dream in which the people of Erinthia were holding a “We Want You Back” carnival—women were throwing flowers to him, dancers were reenacting his battle with the evil fairy, his parents were leading the crowd in a cheer, and Briar Rose was nowhere to be seen—when he was awakened by a sudden, bright light.

  “Douse that flame, Duncan, we’re trying to sleep,” he mumbled, his eyes still half-closed.

  “I don’t know who Duncan is,” said the hulking, deep-voiced man holding the lit lantern. “But if he’s also trespassin’ in my house, I’ll pound ’im the same way I’m gonna pound you.”

  A lean, wiry man with a beaklike nose and a thin, wispy mustache raised a second lantern. “Well, whaddaya know, Horace,” the smaller stranger said in a nasal voice. “Looks like we got visitors.”

  The other princes began to stir.

  Fig. 20 HORACE and NEVILLE

  “Hold back,” Liam cautioned as he stood up. “We mean no harm. If you’ll let us explain—”

  “Starf it all,” Gustav snarled, and leapt at the beefy Horace.

  “Gustav, no!” Liam shouted. “We are the trespassers here. We need to hear these fellows out.” But Gustav was already pummeling Horace.

  “A little help here, Neville?” the massive Horace requested of his companion, as he blocked Gustav’s flurry of punches.

  Neville, the hawk-nosed man, called over his shoulder: “Boys! Get in here!”

  Suddenly eight more men—all dressed in the black garb of thieves—rushed into the room. “Bandits,” Liam hissed as he reached for his sword.

  “Scoop ’em up,” Neville ordered, and stepped back to let his band of brigands do the dirty work. Frederic—for whom waking up was always a challenge—only managed to blearily say, “Five more minutes, Reginald,” before two of the attackers had a rope around him.

  Duncan jumped to his feet and began quivering with nervous excitement. “Oh, my goodness! Is this a fight?” he cried. “I’ve never seen a real fight before! Is this a fight?”

  Two of the bandits threw a large sack over his head and yanked him down. “No, this is not a fight,” one of them chuckled.

  Meanwhile, with sword in hand, Liam was facing off against four bandits at once. The first charged him, swinging a wooden club. Liam deflected it with his blade as he kicked a second bandit into the wall. The third attacker dove at the prince’s legs, but Liam jumped just in time to avoid him. As he landed boots-first on the back of the diving bandit, Liam banged the handle of his sword over the head of the man with the club, sending him to the ground as well. The fourth bandit, afraid to get too close, hurled a dagger at Liam. But the prince swung his sword and batted the knife back at the man who’d thrown it. The handle of the dagger slammed into the bandit’s forehead and knocked him out.

  Panting, Liam looked around the room. Frederic was quivering on the floor with his hands and feet tied together. Duncan appeared to be inside a large bag. But where was…

  Gustav came flying through the air—tossed like a javelin by the hulking Horace. Gustav’s big, armored body slammed into Liam and bowled him over. In a ball of arms and legs, the two princes looked up to see bandits surround them on all sides.

  “We can take
them,” Gustav said, right before Horace slammed the two princes’ heads together. Everything went black.

  9

  PRINCE CHARMING IS A WANTED MAN

  It wasn’t that Lila hated being a princess, but she seriously disliked the kind of princess her parents wanted her to be. King Gareth and Queen Gertrude spent years trying to groom their daughter into a Proper Young Lady, the kind of girl they could one day marry off to an excessively wealthy prince in exchange for fat sacks of gold and gems. (They had a bit of a one-track mind, those two.) But Lila had little to no interest in galas or banquets, brooches or waltzes. Whenever she didn’t show up for a scheduled posture lesson, you could probably find her lying atop the high bookshelves of the royal library, where she’d climb to find a quiet place to read a book on dragon anatomy or a history of famous escape artists. On any given day, you might catch her picking the lock on her classroom window and shimmying down a trellis, in order to avoid a quiz on corsage placement. Lila’s disobedience infuriated her parents, and when they had finally reached the peak of their frustration with her—after the girl skipped a ballroom dance in favor of creek walking (and at the same time, gown ruining)—they officially grounded her until marriage.

  Fig. 21 LILA

  It was only through the intervention of her brother, Liam, that Lila was let off the hook. Liam spoke to the king and queen on his sister’s behalf, reminding them that Lila was still very young and telling them that they had to give her time to explore her many interests. Lila was different from other princesses; she was a girl who enjoyed reading alchemy textbooks, dissecting grasshoppers, and designing elaborate imp traps. “Wouldn’t it be more interesting to see what kind of person Lila grows up to be,” Liam asked, “than to force her into a mold that obviously doesn’t fit her?”

  This was long before the Wedding Cancellation Fiasco, when Liam’s parents still gave a lot of weight to anything he said. They didn’t completely let up on Lila’s lessons, but they called off her punishment, and even let her take up some hobbies of her own choosing, like chemistry, clock making, and tree house construction.