“Okay then,” Corrine said at length. She was able to brush the weirdness off easier because she wasn’t seeing or hearing things that others weren’t. “What are we going to do?”
“Well I’ve been thinking about it, and, I mean, assuming we want to stick together—?” Julianna asked and looked at them nervously. They technically had no ties to her, and might very well want to go on their way and leave her behind; that weird thing Farland had said about Warren being a counter-curse was certainly something that would be nice to get to the bottom of, but if they didn’t want to come along, then she couldn’t force them. Or, anyway, she didn’t want to; she technically could pull royal rank on them and make them do whatever she wanted, but that sort of thing didn’t sit right with her.
Corrine looked at Warren, and he said, “Well, I for one would like to stick together. But, uh, Your Majesty, it seems like the quickest solution to your problem is for you to just to go back to the castle. Unless you’ve run away or something? In which case, maybe we could help you out. You could just stick with us because we’re on the run too.”
“Oh no, I haven’t run away,” she said, brushing aside the notion with a swish of her hand. “I just got stuck here at the inn when Mortimer wouldn’t leave until after sunrise. You see, I dug a tunnel out of my dungeon so that I could get out at night and see the world a bit. And I was hoping that I would be able to keep sneaking out indefinitely, but,” she sighed, “I’ve only been sneaking out for two nights now, and already I’ve messed it all up.”
They both looked at her with surprise.
“You…tunneled out of the castle?” Warren asked.
Julianna nodded. “My only hope is that they may not have found the entrance to my tunnel. It would be a shame for me to have been digging it for more than half my life only to have to stop using it after two days…”
“Wow,” Warren said, impressed. “You know, I think they think you’ve been kidnapped. So maybe that means they haven’t discovered your tunnel?”
“Hopefully,” she said. “Anyway, so in that I have not run away, I was thinking you guys could just come home with me. The castle is absolutely packed with anti-magic amulets and talismans and such for warding off Farland. Wendell, the royal wizard, makes them. Or his interns do anyway. It’s got to be a full-time job to keep them fresh. But anyway, if you’re in my dungeon, you are totally safe from Farland.”
“That sounds perfect!” Warren exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. “Would that really be okay? I mean, are we going to get killed or anything for walking through the front gates with you?”
“Hmm…” she pondered that one for a bit. She didn’t want to make any rash decisions where their lives were concerned. “Well, how’s this: I just go up to the gate first, and you guys stay back so it doesn’t look like you’re with me. Then I tell a guard who I am—they might not believe me at first, not many people know what I look like—and then once I’ve convinced them, I’ll tell them you guys are with me. As long as they believe I’m who I am, they won’t dare argue with me about you two.” Of that she was sure, at least. “From there, if we run into any issues, we can just iron them out when we talk to my parents.”
“What do you think, Corrine?” Warren asked.
Corrine shrugged. “I do love the thought of you being surrounded by all those amulets and things. Those are really to keep Farland away?” she asked, looking at Julianna.
“Yep. He became blood brothers with my father back before I was even born, and that means that, since my dad’s blood is in his veins, Farland has access to my dad’s blood whenever he wants it for a spell. And that also means he has power over my brother and me because we’re blood relatives. But Wendell says it’s a watered-down power because we’re just relatives of my dad and so our blood is only similar and not identical.”
“Dang. How does the King ever leave the castle?” Warren asked. Even having lived at sea his whole life, he had heard that the king loved to hunt, and that was something he sure couldn’t do in the castle.
“Oh, he’s wears a few amulets when he goes out, and when he isn’t in the castle he’s always surrounded by his very best soldiers; Farland has a lot of power, but he has to be physically near my dad in order to cast a spell. He wouldn’t risk appearing near all those soldiers. He isn’t as dangerous as all that.”
“That’s for sure,” Warren said, thinking back to when they were on the ship and how Farland had tried to use the asparagus/tangerine potion and it had fizzled, and then Jane had vanquished him by simply smacking him unconscious with Warren’s banjo case.
“But that doesn’t mean he’s harmless. He really is pretty dangerous if you aren’t heavily guarded, or if you have no magical abilities. It’s just that at the castle he’s not a problem because it’s so fortified against him.” She looked at Warren with concern, afraid she might have downplayed the danger Farland presented him. “He could kill you, easy as pie. Easier than pie, in fact. While we’re out here, anyway. So, don’t let your guard down.”
* * *
22Though Lillian served mostly just as a figurehead for the Women’s Rights movement and didn’t do much in the way of planning or hard thinking on the subject, she was married to the king and thus was, in theory, in a position to influence policy. The main problem was that Conroy could so rarely be bothered to get the ball rolling, because he didn’t want to annoy the male citizens; males were, after all, the ones who tended to take to the streets and form mobs with the ol’ proverbial pitchforks and torches when sufficiently riled up. Conroy was all for wars with other countries, but civil wars were different because they were harder and had more consequences; with wars with other countries, you just brought your army and horses and weapons and ran around being manly; with civil wars, things just fell apart, and once you’d finally subdued the tax base, you had to smooth down their ruffled feathers, worry about rebels holding grudges, waste money rebuilding stuff, and apologize about those makeshift hospitals you’d ‘accidentally’ burned down. Conroy was certain that there was nothing that was more likely to incite civil war than the King telling all the dudes that they had to listen to their wives’ opinions and start treating them like people. Yes, he figured equality of the sexes was better left as an organic process that would evolve over the centuries as mankind advanced and became more enlightened as regarded the chicks. No need for an official proclamation that would endanger his comfort and chip away at his treasury.
Chapter Twenty-three
Farland was perturbed. No one had been in the room that the innkeeper, Galt, had told him his wife had been hiding the two kids in. But Farland just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a presence in the room.
He assumed this feeling meant that the two kids Galt had seen had very recently left. While this was indeed true, Farland was actually just sensing the presence of Dexter, who was hovering at his side, eavesdropping.
It was Farland’s inclination to stick around and see whether they would come back, but, on the off chance he was mistaken about the identity of these two kids, he really did need to finish up doing the rounds to all his other contacts.
“Galt,” he had said with a sleazy little sigh, “I must go, but if I don’t get any other leads, I’ll be back this evening in order to case the joint. It’s possible that they were here and left at sunrise to do some sightseeing.”
“Sightseeing?” Galt asked. “What’s that23?”
“It’s when people from out-of-town come to a place and look at landmarks and stuff. You know, like the castle gates, the bazaar, the gallows. Like that.”
“Hmm,” Galt said, unimpressed. Sounded like a waste of time but could be good for business.
“Anyway,” Farland sleazed briskly, “I’ll be back. If they are out sightseeing or shopping, they’ll be back by sunset, so I’ll try to get back here a bit before dark and see if we can catch them.”
“Ri
ght,” Galt said. “Happy to help.” He wasn’t really. Farland was one of those friends who demanded a lot but never gave anything in return. Galt was stuck, though, because Farland was an evil wizard, and (as I hope you do not know from personal experience) when you have fallen into an association with an evil wizard, the best you can do is to do what they say and hope they aren’t reading your mind as you mentally curse them out.
Warren, Julianna, and Corrine had decided that as soon as sunset came, they’d set out for the castle. Once Dexter had given the all clear after floating out to make sure that it was dark, Julianna opened up the servants’ door and peeked cautiously out into the alley.
She peeked right. No one.
She peeked left. Still no one.
She didn’t think to peek upward to see if anyone was looking out of any of the inn’s windows, which was unfortunate since Galt was right up there in a window above the door they were walking out of.
And he was on the lookout.
Farland had not stumbled on any new leads, except for a few that were even weaker than his lead at the inn, so he was back at the Dawdling Donkey. Farland had installed himself at the front window that faced the main street, hoping that his prey would come back to the inn via the front door. Galt’s wife, who was tending the bar, was bestowing many an angry glare upon the wizard but didn’t dare say a word because Farland was such a jerk; there was no predicting what someone of his combined temperament and abilities could do when angered.
Julianna, Warren, and Corrine crept up the alley toward the main road.
The only reason Galt hadn’t seen them was that he was expecting his quarry to appear at the alley entrance and walk toward the inn, not the other way around. It was only when Julianna got so close to the main road that the glow of a streetlight fell on her that Galt jolted upright in his seat, squinted his eyes to see better through the darkness, and yelled, “Farland! Three people in the alley! Moving toward the road!”
It was stupid of him to yell because Julianna, Warren, and Corrine all heard it.
They whipped their heads toward the sound of his voice, and Warren saw Galt through the window standing up and darting out of sight.
“Run!” they all yelled at each other.
They flew out of the alley.
Julianna was first out onto the street. She looked to the left in time to see Farland and Galt leap out the front door of the Dawdling Donkey.
She and Farland locked eyes.
She felt a chill shoot down her spine. Though she’d never seen him before, she knew this had to be the evil wizard who’d messed her life up so thoroughly.
She froze.
Hovering by Julianna, Dexter watched the proceedings with interest. This trip into the city was seriously exceeding his expectations. “Run!” he yelled, snapping her out of her paralysis.
“They’re coming!” she yelled to Warren and Corrine. They all darted down the street toward the castle gates, their plan completely abandoned in their need to get to safety. “Guards!” Julianna yelled. “Guards!”
The guards at the gate up ahead had been searching a wagon that was leaving the castle, but when they heard her yelling, they stopped and looked up.
“I’m the Princess!” she panted, as behind her Farland roared angrily and began rummaging through the satchel at his side. “I’m Julianna! Help!”
Just then, Farland flung some sort of magical whats-it their way, and a blue spark hit the ground at her feet. Some of the sparks hit her in the leg, making it go numb where she’d been hit, and causing her to stumble.
Warren and Corrine were close behind. Corrine had been trying to reach into her bag for the vials of asparagus and tangerine, but gave up, cursing herself for not having thought to do it before they had set out.
They were almost to the gate.
Farland threw a few more of the blue sparky things, missing Warren by a hair. His hitting Julianna had been an accident. It was very hard to run on the mucky ground while trying to aim properly in the near-dark.
The guards took in the scene at glance. Most of them recognized that Julianna was, indeed, the Princess, because when she’d gone missing Conroy had had her portrait hauled down from the wall of the castle’s private portrait gallery where it hung along with all the other portraits of royalty old and new, and he had ordered a hoard of artists to make copies to distribute to all the guards and soldiers so they’d know what she looked like24. So, recognize her they did.
They saw the missing Princess sprinting toward them, yelling for help and being chased by a young man with one arm in a sling who was nearly close enough to grab her with his good arm, a young woman who was a bit further behind, a paunchy old bald dude, and none other than the evil wizard Farland Phelps. And the evil wizard was tossing spells at the Princess.
They sprang into action and ran toward Julianna with swords drawn. At that same moment, Corrine turned and saw Farland halt in his tracks and mutter something, then raise his hand with a look of deadly focus on his face; he was going to throw one more spell at Warren, and this time it looked as though he was not going to miss. Corrine waited until he had thrown the thing, and then (being the good big sister she was) she flung herself in front of Warren.
The spell hit her square in the back. She cried out in shock as her body went numb, then collapsed. Her frozen hands released her bag. It fell to the ground at her side.
Warren turned, saw her, and ran back.
Farland grinned and began to stride toward Warren. He hadn’t hit his intended target, but things seemed to be working out fine anyway.
“Run!” Corrine yelled at Warren, getting a mouthful of muck in the process. “Take my bag and run!”
“No!” Warren gasped, frantically looking up and seeing Farland approaching at a trot with a malicious glint in his eyes. “Ahh!” Warren yelled in frustration. He couldn’t leave his sister, but now he was going to get captured by Farland.
Listen to her, cawed the raven’s voice in his head. Seriously, bro. Pointless heroics is just stupidity in disguise.
“Go!” Corrine yelled. “He’ll kill you if you don’t run!”
Fortunately for Warren, the decision was made for him. Right around the time Farland had hit Corrine with the spell, the guards had reached Julianna. They’d swiftly surrounded her in a protective circle. One of them caught sight of the young man who had been chasing the Princess. He stepped forward with a zealous, “Gotcha!” and hit Warren over the head with the hilt of his sword.
Warren collapsed unconscious beside his sister. The soldier advanced on him, sword raised as though he had every intention of running Warren through.
“STOP!” Julianna screeched.
The soldier froze and looked back at her with confusion. “But Your Highness, he was—”
She spluttered, “The wizard! Shoot the wizard!” as she pointed frantically at Farland, who had almost reached Warren.
The guards responded to her command instantly and began to get their bows and arrows ready. In those few seconds it took for the confused guards to prepare to fire, Farland registered what was going on; he wasn’t close enough to Warren to reach him, but he was close enough to Corrine, and that was better than nothing since she was Warren’s sister and could thus be used as leverage.
He reached down, took her by the wrist, and disappeared in a poof of smoke.
* * *
23Tourism was a fairly new concept in the city because technological innovations in farming and factory production had only recently reached the levels that allowed for workers to have any amount of free time to waste on such pursuits. Also, the mass layoffs that went along with the technological advancements meant there were more unemployed people than ever; people who had to use their free time somehow (picking pockets and breaking into houses to steal food from the cupboards was by no means a fulltime job), and some of the unempl
oyed masses figured this tourism thing they’d been hearing about was worth a shot since as of yet no one had thought to charge admission.
24A time-consuming process that had made Conroy regret for the first time ever that he had had all the known printing presses in the land rounded up and tossed in a big, inky bonfire.
Chapter Twenty-four
Captain Maximus McManlyman had never been much for brooding (being a man of action and all) but then he’d never before been in love with a lady who didn’t love him back. The broads were usually crazy for him, but Doctor Jane wouldn’t give him the time of day. So, he was sitting in his quarters brooding like crazy. It was irksome in the extreme to find that, while unrequited love was great to read about in a work of fiction, it was downright lame in real life.
That morning, Jane had met with him in order to address some concerns regarding a recent pillaging she’d witnessed. McManlyman had assured her his pirates had quite efficiently pulled off a perfect pillaging and that there was nothing to worry about, but she had said something about frightful carnage and abominable cruelty. The meeting had gotten nothing but worse after that, culminating with her storming out of his quarters in a rage, proclaiming him a scoundrel and a monster.
In the books he read, the broad only called the guy a scoundrel before falling helpless into the guy’s arms, so when she’d called him a scoundrel, he had scooted closer, arms at the ready.
But then she’d just walked out.
McManlyman was quite shaken. He glared at the books on the shelf across from his desk. They had lied to him. They’d taught him that women like Jane called guys like him scoundrel and rapscallion and cad, but deep down all they wanted was to fix guys like him. Jane should be wanting to mend him, then marry him. But gosh darn it all if that was not how life really worked, at least with Jane. It seemed glaringly obvious to him that when Jane called him a scoundrel it was not code for, “If only I could love you, you poor, broken soul.”
How to Break an Evil Curse Page 22
