The Hero's Guide to Being an Outlaw

by Christopher Healy

  “Sorry,” Lila said quickly. They rode in silence until the trees opened up onto bright-green fields, and they could see the rooftops of Yondale City beyond.

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Lila said. She patted her pony on its dappled neck. “I think Radish here was getting a little spooked by that forest.”

  “I don’t understand children,” Ruffian grumbled. “Who names a horse Radish?”

  Lila cracked up laughing. “That’s why I did it!” she hooted, practically doubled over in her saddle as they trotted across the sunny meadow. “For that! It’s a laugh every time someone asks me!” She wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh, that’s so worth it. Ask me again!”

  “I will not.”

  Lila and Ruffian made their way along the busy, seashell-paved streets of Yondale City to its bustling harbor, where burly men pushed wheelbarrows full of flopping flounders, and fat seagulls swooped from the sky to snag stray bits of fish guts. They saw wobbly sailors stumbling out of taverns with names like the Mermaid’s Spittoon and the Salty Trousers. They saw mangy sea cats chasing after runaway crabs. And they saw League of Princes Wanted posters on every corner. Lila put on a wide-brimmed hat and tucked her hair up under it, hoping it would help disguise her. When the pair hit the docks and began asking questions, the sailors and fishermen were quick to provide answers—they were all familiar with the reputation of Ruffian the Blue.

  “Those posters?” one lobster trapper asked as he unloaded buckets of shellfish from his boat. “Yeah, everyone’round here has heard about the ‘Horrible Princess Murder.’”

  “Wow,” said Lila. “Even in Yondale they thought Briar was horrible.”

  “I was referrin’ to the murder as horrible,” said the lobsterman. “Not the princess. The lady was Sleepin’ Beauty! Lovely girl by all accounts.”

  “Hah!” Lila scoffed.

  “We have reason to believe the princess might have met her fate here in Yondale Harbor,” the bounty hunter said, eager to change the topic.

  “Well, it’s not exactly uncommon for people to disappear from these wharfs,” said a wool-capped shrimp wrangler. “But it’s unlikely a princess woulda been wandering around here at night.”

  “Could ya give us a description of her?” the lobster trapper asked.

  “Bony,” Lila said. “Big, ridiculous pile of reddish hair. Skin like an albino clam. Face all scrunched up like this. . . .” She pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose as if she smelled rotting fish (which she did).

  Fig. 8

  INVESTIGATION, salty

  “Sounds an awful lot like that passenger who went out on the Dreadwind ’bout ten nights back,” said a squid rustler, wiping his ink-stained hands on his apron.

  “Dreadwind?” asked Ruffian.

  “It’s a ship,” the squid rustler said. “Pirates—nasty ones.”

  “Wait,” said Lila, furrowing her brow. “So Briar was kidnapped by pirates? Is she even dead?”

  “The lady you’re describin’ was certainly alive when she got on that ship,” said a nearby krill herder. “I saw ’er, too.”

  “As did I,” added the shrimp wrangler. “Only I wouldn’t call it a kidnapping. She just walked aboard like nothing was wrong.”

  “Yeah, there were two guys in black walking with her,” said the squid rustler. “But just walking. Not grabbing or pushing or carrying or anything. They walked her up to the Dreadwind, she got on, and they walked away.”

  “I wonder if they were the same fellas in black who hung up the Wanted signs the next morning,” said the lobsterman. “I figured ’em for Avondellian soldiers.”

  “They couldn’t have been,” said Lila. “Avondellian soldiers wear blue-and-silver pinstripe. Those thugs you saw were probably Briar’s secret henchmen.” She tugged at Ruffian’s cowl. “Ruff, do you see what this means? Briar faked her own death! And then she framed the League for it.”

  “We have no proof of that,” Ruffian said. “We don’t even know for certain that the woman in question was Princess Briar.”

  “You know who could tell you?” the shrimp wrangler said, kicking away a seagull that was nipping at his bait-filled pockets. “King Edwyn.”

  “Why would the king of Yondale know anything about this?” Lila asked.

  “Because before the strange lady got on the Dreadwind,” he explained, “she was in the royal palace. She came down to the harbor straight from there.” He pointed up to a ramshackle old castle sitting atop a nearby cliff, overlooking the harbor. Squawking seagulls circled its crumbling towers.

  “Come,” Ruffian said to Lila. “We need to have an audience with the king.”

  The inside of Yondale’s royal palace was just as shoddy as its exterior. Grimy footprints dotted once-elegant carpets in hallways where crooked portraits dangled from fraying wires. It had been Yondale’s queen who had kept on top of the staff and made sure the castle was spotless, but ever since she got chased off a cliff by some angry dwarfs, the place had fallen into a state of neglect. There was nothing stopping King Edwyn from having his home fixed up; he just didn’t care enough. His daughter had moved away, and his wife turned out to be a homicidal witch. He wanted some time by himself, so he sent all his servants on indefinite vacations.

  When Lila and Ruffian found the ancient monarch, he was sitting on a small, dusty stool by a tiny square table where he’d been playing the same game of chess against himself for almost two years. A tarnished crown sat atop his bald head, and his long blue-gray beard was tucked into his pants. With shaky, bent fingers, he slid a pawn one space over on the chessboard. Then he looked up at his guests. There were so many wrinkles on his face, it was hard for Lila to tell where his eyes were.

  “Princess Briar Rose of Avondell?” King Edwyn asked in a voice like a rusty hinge. “Yes. Yes, she paid me a visit not too long ago. Sweet girl.”

  “Your Highness,” said Ruffian, “if I might ask the purpose of her visit?”

  “She asked permission to use our pier that evening,” Edwyn said. “Which was very considerate.”

  “Asked permission?” Lila said. “Never mind. It wasn’t Briar.”

  “What else did the princess say?” Ruffian inquired.

  “She . . .” The elderly king paused and scratched his liver-spotted head with a chess knight. “I can’t remember. I guess it couldn’t have been too important.”

  “Please try, sir,” Lila said. “I mean, you know Briar’s supposed to be dead, right? And that your daughter is one of the people being blamed for it?”

  The king looked stunned. “Snow White? Oh, that’s ridiculous. Snow would never harm anybody.”

  “Of course not,” Lila said. “But half the world thinks she’s a murderer thanks to that awful Briar Rose. She faked her death and wants your daughter to rot for it!”

  “We don’t know that,” Ruffian started to say, but Lila spoke right over him.

  “Your sweet, gentle daughter is being treated like a criminal! That’s why you have to think back to that night.”

  King Edwyn took a deep, rattly breath. “Well, when Princess Briar Rose was here, she asked me about the pier,” he said. “And then she . . .” The old man’s face suddenly froze, and his eyes glazed over.

  “Your Highness?” Ruffian prodded.

  “I have told you everything I know,” the king suddenly said, his speech stiff and stilted. He was staring straight ahead, at no one in particular. “I think it is best that you two people leave this castle at once.”

  “King?” Lila asked.

  “You heard my words,” the king said. “We are through here. You must go.”

  Ruffian put his hand on Lila’s back and ushered her away from the old man.

  “That was really weird, wasn’t it?” Lila whispered as they headed for the exit. “It was like we were suddenly talking to a different person, right?”

  “Once again you ask questions you know the answers to,” Ruffian replied. His eyes darted around the room as they walked. Suddenly he drew his
sword, dashed over to a large picture window, and threw aside its moth-eaten drapes to reveal a bald, tattoo-covered man in a vest and kilt. Lila recognized him instantly: Madu, the weresnake from Dar. And between the clenched fingers of his left hand she spotted a glimmer of orange gemstone.

  “The Jeopardous Jade Djinn Gem,” Lila breathed. “But how?”

  Madu drew his broadsword and swung it at Ruffian. With the Darian’s concentration broken, King Edwyn snapped back to normal.

  “Huh?” the old man muttered, blinking at his chessboard. “Ooh, I see a good move!”

  “Get the king out of here!” Ruffian called to Lila as he clashed blades with Madu. She ran back to King Edwyn.

  “You’re in danger, sir,” she said, holding out her hand to him. “Come with me.”

  But her view of the elderly figure was blocked as a big, stocky man covered from head to toe in spiked armor stepped in between them. “Sorry, but we need the old guy here,” said Jezek. He held up his arm and called to Madu, “Throw it here!”

  Madu backed away from Ruffian, flicked his arm, and sent a flash of orange sailing through the air. Jezek caught it.

  Lila turned and fled, but halfway to the door she felt a jolt as her muscles suddenly tensed up. She wanted desperately to keep running, but her limbs felt like they’d been encased in concrete. A voice echoed inside her skull: Come back here. And then she was turning and slowly walking back across the room, straight to the spike-covered brute. She knew Jezek was controlling her with the Djinn Gem, but she was powerless to stop it. She tried to stay focused but found her mind and her vision growing hazier by the second.

  Ruffian noticed Lila’s zombie-like stare and snapped into a frenzy. He elbowed Madu in the face, wrapped the long curtain around him, and ran for Jezek. Chess pieces flew as the bounty hunter snatched up the king’s game board and swung it at the only part of Jezek not covered in spikes—his face. The board broke across the Darian’s nose and sent him stumbling backward.

  Lila heard Ruffian yell “Run!”—and she was overjoyed to realize that she could. As she scrambled for the exit, Lila saw Madu writhing on the ground, his body twisting and contorting as he transformed into a thirty-foot-long sand snake.

  Lila could hear the crinkling paper sound of the giant serpent slithering behind her as she and Ruffian raced down the hall to the palace entryway. Just before they reached the doors, Ruffian let out a pained groan. “Hnnh!”

  The snake’s jaws were clamped over his shoulder, its fangs sunk deep into his flesh. Lila pulled her quarterstaff out of its holster and, with all her might, whacked the snake across the nose. The creature winced, released Ruffian, and swished back down the hall. Ruffian slumped against the wall and slid to the floor.

  “You okay, Ruff?” Lila crouched beside her mentor.

  “No,” he said bluntly. “The venom is in my veins. You have to go on alone.”

  “Like that’s gonna happen,” Lila scoffed, putting her arm around his shoulder and trying to stand him up.

  “Stop it, Lila,” he wheezed. “They’ll be back any second. You need to go.”

  “Not without you.”

  Ruffian removed his hood. His skin looked waxy. “I’ll be fine, Lila,” he said. “This isn’t the first snakebite I’ve ever had. My blood is resistant to most venoms.”

  “You don’t look very resistant,” she said. “Your face is all veiny.”

  “Look me in the eye, Lila,” he said. “I need to know you will stay alive. I cannot lose another one.”

  Footsteps sounded from down the hall. The Darians were coming. More than just two of them. Using the doorframe, Ruffian dragged himself to his feet. “I’ll hold them off. Please go. Tell your brother what we’ve learned.”

  Two black-clad Darian thugs burst into the entryway, striking at Ruffian with their swords. Ailing though he was, the bounty hunter deflected their blows. “Run,” he wheezed at Lila. “Now. Go.”

  Lila fled. He said he’d be fine, she told herself. He said he could resist the venom. But she was smart enough to know that sometimes when an adult doesn’t want to frighten a child, he will tell the child what she wants to hear, whether it is true or not. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she ran along the cliffside path.

  Moments later, inside Yondale Castle, Madu and Jezek stood in a small stone alcove with high stained glass windows, a hazy-eyed King Edwyn at their side. Sitting on a pedestal before them was a glowing crystal orb that appeared to be filled with swirling green mist. The mist parted, revealing the scarred face of Lord Rundark.

  “It is done, Warlord,” Jezek said.

  “The girl?” Rundark asked.

  “She got away,” Jezek reported. “Just like you wanted.”

  11

  AN OUTLAW SQUATS WHERE HE SHOULDN’T

  “Are you certain nothing lives here?” Frederic asked of the dirt-walled burrow in which he and the other princes crouched, ducking to avoid the dangling roots overhead. He glanced around at the many shadow-black recesses that were not illuminated by Liam’s small torch. “I’m pretty sure those are bones over there.”

  “They are. Very old bones,” Liam said.

  “Ooh, a puzzle,” Duncan said, scooting over to the pile of tooth-marked remains. He started rearranging the bones. “Let’s see what they make.”

  “My point is that whatever creature dug this hole is long gone,” Liam said. “So let’s brainstorm; you know it won’t be long before we have to run again. Greenfang’s been breathing down our necks for days.”

  “Yeah, so much for the river throwing him off our trail,” Gustav said.

  “The thornbushes didn’t exactly work either,” Frederic added. “Nor the swamp. Or the waterfall.”

  “Don’t forget the corn maze,” Duncan added.

  “Yes,” Liam grumbled. “How could any of us forget the corn maze?”

  “I’m still picking loose kernels out of my slippers,” Frederic griped.

  “Focus, people,” Liam snapped. “We’ve got a mystery to solve.”

  “Oh, yes. Well, let’s see,” said Frederic. “Who were Briar’s enemies?”

  “You mean besides us?” Gustav asked.

  Fig. 9

  PREVIOUS TENANT

  “Honestly, no one was very happy with her after she annulled our marriage,” Liam said, staring into the flickering flame of his torch. “But who would be the most upset?” His eyes went wide with horror. “My parents.”

  “You really think your mother and father had Briar killed?” Frederic asked.

  “And then blamed me for it?” Liam wondered aloud. “I don’t want it to be true, but I can’t rule it out. No one wanted this royal marriage more than they did.”

  “Then I guess we should head to Erinthia,” Frederic said.

  “Perfect timing,” Duncan said. “Because I just finished putting these bones together. And now we know what kind of creature died here in this cave.” With a flourish of his hands, he presented his work. “It was . . . a skeleton!”

  “Brilliant,” Gustav mumbled.

  “Hmm, those remains are human,” Liam said, inspecting the bones. “Maybe we shouldn’t be in this burrow after all.”

  “And that’s my cue to leave,” Frederic said, crawling between Liam and Gustav to the root-tangled cave opening. Just as he reached the exit, a figure appeared in front of him. Greenfang grabbed him by the collar of his filthy pajama shirt and dragged him out into the open. The bounty hunter tossed Frederic over to Erik the Mauve, then bent down and called into the burrow, “The rest of you can come out now. None of you better make a run for it, unless you want Pete to use your friend here for target practice.”

  The princes crawled out of the hole, one by one, to face the three bounty hunters—and the three giant mongooses.

  “I give you credit for trying,” Greenfang said, squinting at them. “Most folks can’t evade me for even one day, let alone a week. But in the end, all you’ve done is get yourselves tired and me angry. Do you know why they c
all me the most dangerous bounty hunter in the land? Because I never give up on a quarry. Never.” He squinted even harder. “I once chased a man into a volcano.”

  “Well, you’ve never faced men like us before,” Liam said, staring him down.

  “You mean an overconfident braggart, a muscle-bound doofus, a tiny weirdo, and a beanpole in silk pajamas?” Greenfang said. “Yeah, I’ll give you that. It’s a new combination for me. Now let’s get you to Avondell.”

  “I have a question,” Duncan said, raising his hand. “What do mongooses eat?”

  “It’s mongeese,” Erik corrected.

  “No, really, it’s not,” Pete huffed. “It’s mongooses.”

  “EITHER IS ACCEPTABLE!” Greenfang shouted at them.

  Erik cleared his throat and began tying Frederic’s wrists. “Anyway, they eat snakes mostly,” he said. Then he narrowed his eyes at Duncan. “But they’d tear into you if I told ’em to.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Duncan said. “I was just wondering if maybe it was a mongoose that lived in that cave. But it can’t be. Whatever lives in there doesn’t eat snakes—it eats skeletons.”

  Pete sighed. “Don’t you people know a bugbear den when you see one?”

  “Bugbear?” Frederic said nervously. “What’s that?”

  “Ghastly creatures,” Pete said. “Thick fur like a troll, but also shelled like a beetle. They’ve large pincer claws and eight eyes like a spider.”

  “Sort of like that thing in the tree above us?” Duncan asked, pointing upward. With a loud hiss, a hideous, ogre-size bugbear leapt down among them. Startled, Pete loosed an arrow at the attacking creature, hitting it in the chest—but that only made it angrier. The monster snapped its lobster-like claws at Greenfang, who drew his dual swords to defend himself. At Erik’s command, the mongooses began clawing at the raging bugbear, but their fangs were of little use against the monster’s hard shell.