The Hero's Guide to Being an Outlaw

by Christopher Healy

  “My turn,” Rauber said, and dove for the bottle. Liam tried to yank it away, but Deeb’s hands smacked into it and sent it flying through the air. The djinn howled as he was whipped around in circles by the spinning bottle. Everybody panicked, not knowing what would happen if the bottle shattered.

  “Duncan, it’s coming at you!” Frederic shouted.

  Duncan looked up and saw the bottle sailing overhead. He ran, dove, and caught it as he skidded across the ground.

  “Nice one, Pipsqueak!” Gustav cheered.

  But Rauber was racing toward him.

  “Wish, Duncan! Wish!” Snow shouted to him.

  Duncan looked up at the djinn, which was wobbling dizzily in the air. “Um,” he muttered. “Uh. . . .”

  “Quick, Duncan!”

  “I wish for a sandwich!” Duncan blurted.

  Ten people simultaneously slapped their hands to their foreheads.

  “Sorry,” Duncan said as a sandwich appeared in his hand. “It was too much pressure. A sandwich was the first thing that came into my head. But since it’s here . . .” He peeled back the top layer of bread. “Oh, drat. It’s liverwurst.” He threw the sandwich into the sand.

  “I would’ve eaten that!” griped Gustav.

  Rauber walked up to Duncan, who curled up, guarding the bottle with his body. “Duncan, old buddy,” Deeb said, giving the prince a slap on the back. “Gimme a shot at it, man. C’mon, please. What have I ever done to hurt you?”

  “You tied me to a tree once,” Duncan said. “You stole my stuff a bunch of times. And you tried to chop off my feet.”

  “In the past six months,” Rauber said. “What have I done to hurt you in the past six months?”

  “Nothing.”

  “People change,” Rauber said. He addressed the group. “We’re all after the same thing here. We want Rundark gone. I give you my word that if you let me get my hands on that bottle, I will wish for something that can help us meet that goal.”

  Liam looked to Ella. “Who hasn’t used their wish yet?” he asked.

  “Um, just Frederic and Briar, I think.”

  “You ladies blew all your wishes before we even showed up?” Liam scoffed.

  “Oh, and you men have done such a great job with yours since you’ve arrived,” Ella returned with equal bite.

  “Well, hey,” Duncan said, sitting upright and holding out the bottle. “Why don’t I give Frederic a—”

  “Ha!” Rauber squealed as he swiped the bottle from Duncan’s hand.

  “Congratulations!” the djinn bellowed.

  “Mine, mine, mine!” Rauber clucked. “Step back, ladies and jerks—it’s time to watch what the Bandit King does when he’s got one wish and he needs to make it count. Genie, I wish to be the most powerful being on the planet!”

  “Good choice,” said the djinn.

  Thunder cracked overhead and lightning bolts streaked across the sky. Wind whipped. Sand swirled. And Deeb Rauber grew. He grew and grew until he was towering over them, taller than any creature that had ever lived. And then he began to float, levitating several yards off the ground. Rauber cackled maniacally as he shot flames from his fingers, incinerating brain-melter beetles that were miles away. He wiggled his gargantuan fingers and grinned as, with only the power of his mind, he ripped several of the temple’s ancient stone columns out of the ground. The columns floated upward until he shot beams out of his eyes and obliterated them, sending chunks of ten-thousand-year-old architecture raining down. For those on the ground, the ruins quickly became a very dangerous place.

  “Is he trying to kill us or just showing off?” Ella cried out.

  “If we end up dead, who cares?” Briar yelled back.

  As Rauber’s laughter echoed across the wastes, Frederic noticed Rapunzel running toward him. It was the only thing in the world that could have made him even temporarily forget the danger he was in. “I’m glad I got to see you again before we were all exterminated by a giant tween,” he said as she threw her arms around him. He returned the embrace—until he realized that she was trying to pull him out of the way of a tree-size hunk of marble that was plummeting toward them. They crashed into the sand together, only inches from the killer slab’s point of impact.

  “Oh,” Frederic muttered. “I thought you were just hugging me.”

  “Maybe later,” Rapunzel replied. She gazed up in horror at the still-growing Bandit King. The djinn bottle was no more than a grain of rice between his colossal fingers. And soon he was too big to hold it at all. But he never even noticed when he dropped it. The bottle plummeted down to earth, straight toward Frederic—who was horrible at catching things, so he missed it. Luckily Rapunzel caught it and handed it to him.

  “Congratulations!” the djinn proclaimed as it emerged from the eggplanty vessel. He started into his regular speech, but Frederic could barely hear it over all the noise from Rauber destroying the temple around them.

  “I wish for Deeb Rauber to return to normal,” Frederic said. The noise suddenly stopped, as if someone had flicked a switch and turned down the volume on the world. Rauber, back in his regular twelve-year-old form, lay dazed in a pile of sand and rubble. Within seconds, his confusion gave way to fury. He leapt to his feet.

  “What have you done?” he cried. “You fools! Don’t you see? That would have worked! With that power I could have destroyed Rundark! And his stupid Gem!”

  “And the rest of the world along with it, I’m sure,” Liam said.

  “Man, you people are no fun,” Rauber huffed, and he sat in a corner to mope.

  “Why did I say ‘back to normal’?” Frederic muttered. “I should have thrown in some positive adjectives. Courteous, maybe. Polite. Something.”

  He walked over to Briar and handed her the bottle. The djinn was still floating outside it, waiting to see what would happen next. “It’s all in your hands, Briar,” Frederic said. “I trust you’ll do the right thing.”

  “She will,” Liam said, as much to reassure himself as to give a show of support for his ex-wife. Ella bit her lip.

  “Well, well, well,” said Briar as she strolled casually around a crumbled pillar, petting the odd bottle in her arms. “Look who needs my help now. The very people who, less than a year ago, refused to believe I was anything but pure evil.”

  “That’s not fair, Briar,” Liam said. “We were getting along fine on the island.”

  “Shush, I’m making a speech,” Briar hissed. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes . . . Here you are, the very people who—”

  “Is this really the best time for speeches, Briar?” Ella asked.

  “I am a princess,” Briar snapped. “I need my drama! But fine. The point I was trying to make is that you all hated me and I hated all of you, but we went through something together—something scary and difficult and . . . well, even if we’ll never love one another, I’d like to think that we all at least have a little respect for one another. Obviously, I’m not including the Rauber kid in this—we all still hate him. And this little speech right here is without doubt the cheesiest thing to ever come out of my mouth, so I hope you losers appreciate it.” She paused. “I wish for a way to destroy the Jeopardous Jade Djinn Gem.”

  The djinn winced. “Eww. Is that really what you people call it? That’s a terrible name. But . . . wish granted.”

  A tiny corked jar appeared in Briar’s free hand. “What is it?” she asked.

  “A magical acid,” replied the djinn. “Three drops on the glowing heart of the Gem will remove all its power.”

  “Wow, that’s what you gave us?” Briar snipped. “I was hoping for something that would, I don’t know . . . blow it up or something. At the very least, something that wouldn’t require so much precision.”

  “Be more specific next time,” said the djinn, smirking. “Oh, that’s right—there is no next time.” And the spirit creature whiffed back into his bottle.

  Everyone groaned. Scowling, Briar tossed the bottle to Gustav. “Here,” she said. “G
o ahead and kick it into oblivion now. Have fun.”

  “I hope old Flamehead gets the mother of all headaches when I shatter his little house,” Gustav growled as he caught the bottle and once again drew back his foot for a big kick. But a second after the vessel was in Gustav’s hands, the djinn burst back out. Its eyes showed a glimpse of nervousness. “What are you doing out here, Bottle Boy?” Gustav snarled. “Wanna go for a ride?”

  “Hold on! Don’t kick it!” Frederic shouted. “I know why the djinn emerged again—Gustav is the possessor of the bottle again. And he’s still owed a wish.”

  “He is not,” the djinn said defensively. “He wished for information about Miss Jeanval, and I provided it. End of story.”

  “He didn’t wish,” Frederic said. “He said, ‘I want to know. . . .’ ‘Want,’ not ‘wish.’”

  The djinn huffed pink smoke from its nostrils. “Well, if you want to be persnickety, he actually said ‘wanna.’ Which isn’t even a word,” it grumbled. “But you’re technically correct. Still not a wish. Oh, well . . . Congratulations, Prince Gustav. You are the possessor of the fabled Bottle of Baribunda. Make a wish.”

  “Now, be very careful about this, Gustav,” Liam said. “Watch your wording.”

  “Yes, be superspecific,” Ella said. “Ask for the Gem to implode or melt or—”

  “No, we’ve only got one wish left,” Lila said. “We have to use it to get home.”

  “But stopping Rundark—” Liam began.

  “Is something that will never happen if we’re all dead,” Ella said. “Lila’s right.”

  Liam nodded. “Wish us back to Avondell, Gustav.”

  “No, not Avondell!” Rapunzel blurted. “Bad idea! Tell you why later.”

  “All right then, just wish us home,” Frederic suggested.

  “No,” said Lila. “If you just say ‘home,’ we’ll probably all get zapped back to our own individual homes. We’d be separated.”

  “And that would be a bad thing, why?” Briar asked.

  “Wish us all to Happy Land,” Duncan said. “I don’t know where that is, but it can’t be bad, right?”

  “Calm down, everybody. I’ve got this,” said Gustav. He looked the djinn in the eye. “I wish for all of us . . . all of us here . . . every human that’s currently in this place . . .”

  “And one camel,” added Snow.

  “And one camel,” said Gustav. “I wish for all of us to be magically transported to the Stumpy Boarhound.”

  “Wish granted,” said the djinn. “Baribunda!” The word faded as if its speaker were being rapidly pulled away down a long tunnel. And then, with a flash of bright light and a blast of fruity wind, eleven famous fugitives—and one camel—suddenly materialized miles and miles away in northwestern Sturmhagen, in the town of Flargstagg, inside the Stumpy Boarhound.

  As you might guess, the place went bananas.

  30

  AN OUTLAW CLEANS HIS PLATE

  The League of Princes and the Ferocious Female Freedom Fighters sat around two big tables that had been shoved together in the back corner of the Stumpy Boarhound—and they ate. And they drank. And they ate and drank some more. None of them cared if they found something floating in their water glass or if they bit down on something disturbingly crunchy in their pudding. Every single one of them was hungrier and thirstier than he or she had ever been before. Frederic even partook of a dish that was described as “boiled mammal”—though he did ask for a proper utensil after Ripsnard mistakenly served it to him with a salad fork.

  Duncan looked uncharacteristically glum throughout the meal. “I was hoping we’d see Cap’n What’s-his-name or Two-Hands here. Or even the sleepy guy,” he said. “But I guess they never came back.”

  “More traitors,” Gustav grumbled, and took a swig of lumpy, gray “juice.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about what happened with that lady pirate,” Rapunzel said to him, patting him gently on the shoulder.

  “I’m over it,” he said brusquely, brushing away her hand. “I’m over women. For good.”

  As the members of the company finished lunch and began to feel the life energy flooding back into their bodies, they took to talking about the trials and tribulations of the past few months. And it soon became clear that not one of them knew entirely what was going on. So, bit by bit, with different people jumping in at different points, they pieced it all together.

  “So are things bad right now, or are they good?” Snow asked, cocking her head like a curious spaniel.

  “Well, certainly not good,” Ella said. “But . . .”

  “They could be worse,” Liam agreed.

  “They’re bad,” said Briar, narrowing her eyes at them. “Can we please just call it like it is? Things are awful. Abysmal. Dreadful. Have you gotten the idea yet?” She daintily brushed aside a gnawed possum bone that Gustav had carelessly tossed next to her plate. “The badness of the situation is the only reason I’m here,” she continued. “Do you understand the significance of me, Briar Rose, sitting here? In a place like this? With the likes of you? The mere fact that I have deigned to enter this so-called ‘eatery’ should be proof of how important this mission is. I’ve probably contracted seven different diseases just from sitting in this chair. So let’s drop the pointless optimism and come up with a plan.”

  For a few seconds no one spoke.

  “Briar’s right,” Liam said.

  “Of course she is,” Ella mumbled.

  “No, really,” Liam went on. “Things are bad. But that’s all the more reason why we have to succeed.”

  “Well, we have a bottle of acid that we can use to destroy Rundark’s Gem—if we can get close enough to it,” said Ella. “So what do we do?”

  “The one thing we shouldn’t do is stay here much longer,” Frederic said, dabbing his lips with a napkin. “Sooner or later, one of these Boarhound fellows will brag about seeing us, and the wrong person will hear it.”

  Liam grabbed two forks, a butter knife, and a saltshaker, and began shifting them around on the table. “Hmm,” he muttered. “Drat, no.” He switched the saltshaker with one of the forks. “Hmmm . . . no. Not that either.”

  “What are you doing?” asked Ella.

  “I’m having a hard time figuring it out,” Liam said, sliding a spoon between the two forks and turning the knife at an angle.

  “That’s because you’re doing it all wrong, sweetie,” Briar cooed. “You stick your fork into the meat and then move your knife back and forth to cut it, like this.” She demonstrated, her lips curved downward in mock pity.

  Liam furrowed his brow. “Briar, are you the one who just said how important it was for us to start planning?”

  “I know, dearest,” she replied. “Carry on. Finish figuring out how to raid Rundark’s silverware drawer.”

  “You want to explain it to me?” Ella asked him.

  “Well, the salt is the castle and the forks are the . . . never mind,” he said. “I can’t figure out how we get close enough to Rundark to snatch the Gem from him.”

  “We’ve broken into that castle before,” Gustav said.

  “It wasn’t exactly easy the first time,” Liam replied.

  “And there’s no way the same tricks will work twice,” Ella added. “Still, there’s got to be a way.”

  “A way past the Wall of Secrecy and the Moat of a Thousand Fangs and the hundreds of big, scary Darian guards?” Frederic asked.

  “That’s where I come in,” said Deeb Rauber. Everybody at the table flinched.

  “You’re still here?” Liam asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Of course I’m still here.” Rauber pulled up a chair and squeezed between Liam and Ella. “You guys have the only real means of fighting Rundark.”

  “You mean that little jar of acid,” said Duncan.

  “No, I mean your amazing warrior skills,” Rauber said, and he burst out laughing. “Of course I mean the jar of acid. But you’ll need to get into Castle von Deeb to use it. And th
at’s where I can help. I’m the one who built that place, you know—long before Dumb-dark and his pals moved in. And they don’t know about my super-secret hidden entrance. It’s a tunnel that goes from the foot of Mount Batwing straight into the central dungeon of the castle.”

  “And you’re willing to show us where this secret entrance is?” Liam asked skeptically.

  “On one condition,” Rauber said.

  “I figured as much,” said Ella. “What do you want?”

  Fig. 24

  DEEB RAUBER, strategist

  “You pay no attention whatsoever, do you? I want my kingdom back!” the boy said, squinting devilishly at everyone around the table. “I’ll get you in the door, but only if you promise that once Rundark is gone, you guys will skedaddle and let me retake my throne as rightful ruler of Rauberia. That’s my offer.” He sat back and plunked his feet up on the table. “Plus, if you say no,” he added, “I will egg all your houses.”

  Nobody said a word.

  “You guys forget your lines?” Rauber scoffed, tipping his chair onto its rear legs. “Let me show you how it goes.” He pointed at Frederic and in a whiny voice said, “Rauber’s so mean and scary. I don’t think we should trust him.” He then pointed at Gustav and said in a deep, gruff voice, “I say we just attack Rundark ourselves ’cause I’m a big, strong lummox, and I like to bash my head into anything that moves! Grrr, grrr, grrr!” He switched to Liam, put his hands on his hips, and said in a melodramatic tone, “I think I’m smarter than everyone, so you should all listen to me, and I say the Bandit King is our only hope.” Enjoying his own performance, he then looked at Duncan, raised his arms, and flapped his hands in the air, yelling, “I’ll do anything! ’Cause I’m a total goofnoodle! Flippy Whizz-pimples!” Then he pointed at Ella and singsonged in a high falsetto, “It doesn’t matter what I think, ’cause I’m a girl! Blah, blah, blaAAAAAGGH!”

  Lila kicked his chair out from under him. Rauber lay on his back in a sticky pool of crumbs, fruit rinds, and sour milk.

  “Too much?” he asked.

  31

  AN OUTLAW TAKES THE LOW ROAD