I shook my head. I’d tried to warn her, but maybe they didn’t teach listening skills at her school for warriors.
“I’ve got moves that can stop an ogre,” she went on, but he was clearly unafraid. Her fists having proved useless, Storey flashed her unbelievably long sword. “Now you’re in trouble!” she said as she aimed her blade at a bald patch on the ogre’s head. She really was quite valiant, but he slipped the sword from her grip with the ease of a warlock snatching bat’s tongue from a baby.
I watched him place the sword in his pack. Then I tried a bit of diplomacy. I told the ogres that great perils would befall them if they didn’t treat us in a more dignified manner. I said I was the son of the Dark Lord Who Vanished and I would one day rule over them and could probably turn them to dust once I had my scepter and crown.
They bobbed their heads up and down, but I don’t think they understood what I was saying. They nodded even when I wasn’t speaking, so maybe nodding means something completely different to the hill folk.
In my experience, once an idea gets stuck in an ogre’s head, there’s no way to get it out. Angry and his friend were taking us to the frost giants. There was no turning back. No negotiations. No fighting and definitely no talking. Apparently, Storey shared my appraisal of our situation.
“You know we’re going to die—don’t you?” she asked. “These ogres are going to march us right up to the gates of the frost giants’ castle, and I don’t think the big frosty guys will be glad to see you, Wick! I’ve heard they don’t like visitors, especially when they’re unexpected. Maybe they’ll dunk you in water and leave you out to freeze like an icicle or they’ll pull off a leg and use it as a toothpick.” She pinched a finger and mimed the plucking of food from between her teeth.
“Nice image,” I said.
“No, I’m serious,” she replied. “I’ve heard they step on little folk ALL the time. They’ll just smoosh a warlock and keep on walking. Sometimes they don’t even notice what they’ve done until they get home and find a wand stuck in their shoe. If you ask me, this whole adventure is one BIG mistake. And you know what else—”
“No,” I said.
“They also—”
“Stop,” I said, the irritation mounting in my voice. We were already at the base of the mountain. The white, snow-covered slopes frowned at me. I snarled in response. My plan had completely fallen apart. Like the ogre carrying me, I was ANGRY. If my theory proved right, I’d find the scepter with the frost giants. But there was no way for me to sneak in and retrieve it now. An ogre named About to Clobber You was ABOUT to walk us up to the castle’s front door, where the giants would no doubt clobber US.
This was it. The End. I was headed to my death, and I had no way to stop it.
THORNSDAY
I was still alive, but the weather made me wish I wasn’t. Around midday a snowstorm hit us. The ground held at least four feet of white powder, maybe five. I couldn’t be certain since I was slung over Angry’s shoulder, twenty feet above the earth. I was slowly freezing to death, and so was Storey. We were trapped in a snowstorm, but the ogres seemed happy as ever. They scaled steep cliffs and leapt over near-bottomless gorges. And they did it all without breaking a sweat. Despite the snow, the whole journey was actually going smoothly, really smoothly . . .
“Isn’t this a bit too convenient?” I asked.
Storey shrugged.
“No, seriously,” I said. “What are the chances that these ogres just happened to be headed in our direction?”
“No one understands hill ogres,” she replied.
“Really? I mean, it seems like too much of a coincidence that these two oversized, mountain-climbing mastodons arrived in time to give us a lift up the mountain. I can’t really picture us scaling these cliffs without them. Kinda weird—isn’t it?”
“Maybe they’re lost?” she suggested.
“We’re not lost,” I said. You could see the upper part of the castle’s tower peeking above the trees. Two great windows pierced the spire, deep furrows that looked like an upturned nose.
“What if One Eye sent them to capture us? Ever think of that?” Storey asked. “They could be working for the king. Maybe they’re about to drop you into one of those bottomless ravines.” She flashed a white-toothed grin, which made it immediately clear that she was having a bit of fun with me. I wasn’t in the mood for fun.
“You’ve got a knack for imagery,” I said. “But these guys seem like pleasant fellows.”
“Not really. Hill ogres are a wild folk, untamed,” she said.
“They seem pretty tame to me, courteous too—just a bit stubborn,” I said. But when I finished, I realized that Storey had once again ignored my question. In fact, she’d sidestepped almost every question I’d asked. “You know, the ogres aren’t the only ones who showed up at a somewhat opportune moment. You arrived with the key and the boat at exactly the right time and then these living carriages came out of nowhere just when we needed them. It can’t all be a coincidence—right?”
No one has that kind of luck—certainly not me. If you grow up with the kind of disappointment I have, you just kind of get used to it. I don’t believe in coincidence or good fortune. Someone had to be pulling the strings here.
“Gorey put you up to this—didn’t he?” I asked. “The general. He gave you the key AND the boat, to make sure I made it out safely?”
Storey went stone cold silent. Her skin turned from crimson to a pale and powdery shade of pink, which meant that I had pretty much nailed it.
“So Gorey told you to watch my back?” I asked, anger creeping into my voice. “Is that it? Are you some sort of professional bodyguard, or is this just a one-time thing?”
“I’ll have you know,” said Storey, “that I’m not only the daughter of Queen Incarnadine Ka-Voris, the Queen in Red and Monarch of the Goblin Barrows of the West. I happen to also be third in line among her secret soldiers, the best swords in all of goblindom, the Katsirluki. In fact, we’re the finest warriors in the grim world. One of us is worth a hundred orc soldiers. Think about that! You’ve practically got an orc army at your back. So yeah, Gorey ordered me to look after you.” She dipped her head toward the ogres. I thought she had an itch. Then she did it again.
“So what’s with your head?” I asked. Then I realized the answer. “Gorey hired the ogres, too?” I let loose a terrible groan. This was exactly what I hadn’t wanted.
Storey made one of those cute little goblin grins, her lips curling up, eyes widening. “The hill ogres are Gorey’s old friends. They fought together in some battle. The general sent them to escort YOU on this little mission. He knew the ‘great and powerful son of the Dark Lord’ might need a wee bit of help leaping over those deeper-than-deep ravines and scaling these big ol’ cliffs. I couldn’t even climb them, and I’m a trained soldier. You know that was all just an act back there on the beach. We were never in any danger, but Gorey told us to make it look like we were ‘under heavy fire’ or something like that. The orc is crazy if you ask me. But he means well. I think he wanted you to feel like you’d really accomplished something, which is no small task. I told him it might take some effort to keep an undersized, overprivileged ‘heir to the dark and terrible throne’ safe, but I said I’d get it done.”
Sometimes, I really did wish I could call down a tornado of flame. I certainly had one churning inside of me. I’d spent a lifetime hearing about all the great and terrible things my parents did. This was my chance to finally do something important, to go on a quest that was worthy of a Dark Lord and to do it alone. But apparently, the general didn’t think I was up to the task. Was he worried I’d fail? Or was this mission just too important to leave to chance? Did he think I needed backup? I guessed it was all of the above.
“So the general knew EXACTLY what I was going to do, and he sent you and the ogres to make certain I would be . . . safe?” I asked.
I’ll admit the ogres were useful. Maybe I did need their help to climb the mountain, but the real mission was inside the castle. And once we got there, I intended to go it alone. I wasn’t going to let Gorey’s thugs steal my glory. My dad wanted me to do things on my own. But Gorey had broken the Dark Lord’s instructions. I knew the old orc had a soft spot for me. He cursed, he spat, and he threatened all sorts of strange and unlikely forms of punishment, but he seldom followed through with any of it. He wanted to help me, which was touching but also a bit disappointing. I’d wanted to do this one on my own.
“What’s with the long face?” she asked. “We’re just here to lend a hand, and you obviously need one.”
“That’s the problem,” I said. “I don’t want your help. And I don’t intend to take it when we get to the frost giants. This is supposed to be a solo mission. My chance to prove myself to everyone at the castle, the start of Operation . . . Oh, forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Really?” Storey asked. “I think you’re the one who doesn’t get it.” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “You strike me as a kid who’s never left his castle, and now you want to go out and conquer the biggest fortress in the Known World. Well, it’s not going to be easy. So you might want to think twice about going it alone.” I hoped that was the end of her little speech, but apparently she was just getting started. “You seem like a nice warlock, and I know you’ve got good intentions. But I’m warning you. One Eye is the biggest, strongest, smartest guy out there, and you’re about to try to break into his stronghold. If you think this is going to be a piece of crow’s feather cake, you can stop right now. Because tomorrow, when we reach that castle, you need to find a way to sneak in and retrieve the scepter—if it’s even in there. And I have NO idea how you’re going to do that, Mr. Dark Lord.” She stabbed a finger at me. “So, unless you have some super-secret plan you haven’t told me, you’ve still got some pretty big challenges ahead of you. Thought this was going to be EASY? Think again!”
FIREDAY
My journey to the frost giants’ castle had taken an unexpected turn. Apparently, I had helpers. But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. I mean, a leader DOES need henchmen. Storey and the giants had helped me reach the castle. And I’d definitely need their assistance to get back to the Grimhold. No questions there. But the frost giants’ castle was another matter. I wanted to do something great all on my own when we reached the fortress. I was determined to go it alone . . . Well, I was until I saw the castle.
The rising sun revealed a fortress of snow and ice that was taller than any mountain. Its walls stretched from one edge of my vision to the other, and its towers soared thousands of feet into the sky. Clouds drifted through the courtyard, and each tower was a spear that stabbed at the heavens.
Even the ogres stood in awe, which was a good thing. They’d stopped at the forest’s edge, so I don’t think the giants saw us. We found cover beneath the shade of a tall, snow-covered pine while I took stock of the situation. One or two soldier types were doing rounds outside the castle, but it didn’t look like the giants were prepared for an invasion. If I’d stolen the scepter, every soldier in the castle would be on that wall. But that wasn’t the case. So perhaps they thought they’d pulled off their heist without a hitch? Or maybe I was dead wrong about the giants. Either way, the truth was inside that castle.
The guards watched the front gate, but I hadn’t planned on entering it. Last night, I’d done more than think about my three henchmen. I’d gotten my thoughts together and finally come up with a plan. Storey was right about the frost giants. We couldn’t fight our way into their castle, but maybe we could trick them into letting us inside.
Every fortress has something called a postern. It’s a rear door. Kings put them in their fortress so they can sneak out when someone attacks the castle.
The gates at the front of the fortress are always swamped with soldiers. They’re wide enough for a whole army to march through. Posterns are like normal doors, so the castle defenders don’t go heavy on the guards. But they’re still locked, so we had to cool it and wait for the giants to open the door.
I told Angry and his friend to hang out in the forest. There was NO WAY they could sneak into anything. I asked Storey to do the same. Even if she was a warrior, she was still too small to fight an army of giants. I told her to stay back, but she totally refused. And I asked her to leave behind that ludicrously long sword, but she wouldn’t do that, either.
So much for my leadership skills. I couldn’t even get one lousy goblin to listen to me.
She said, “I work for Gorey—okay? So I don’t have to take your orders, Mr. I’ll Set You on Fire If I Ever Become Dark Lord.”
“Most people call me Wick,” I replied. “And I’m definitely going to set YOU on fire when I claim the dark throne. First thing I’ll do, actually.”
She held out a steady hand, her five red fingers outstretched and unmoving. “Don’t see any shaking—do you, WICK? Guess I’m not scared. Not scared at all!”
I was about to argue with her, but then I remembered what she’d said about giants accidentally stepping on grimmies. If she tagged along, I figured I had a fifty-fifty chance of getting rid of her.
“I’ll allow you to join me,” I said. She hadn’t actually given me a choice, but I needed to salvage some scrap of my dignity. Storey nodded her head vigorously, but then she winked at me—just to let me know that she really wasn’t nodding in agreement.
“Maybe you can use some of those soldierly skills to find the postern?” I asked, knowing that she would never turn down a chance to prove herself.
Immediately, she started searching for the door. “I’ll find it in no time at all,” she announced.
“I’m sure you will,” I said, with a healthy bit of sarcasm in my voice.
Posterns are always hidden. So, as I guessed, it took her most of the afternoon to find it. A stand of trees half concealed the exit and the outlines of the postern were almost too faint to see.
She gave me a little wink when she caught sight of it. I shrugged, unimpressed. Then the two of us settled down behind a mound of icy boulders and waited for it to open, but it didn’t happen. This time, Storey gave me a smirk. She probably thought I didn’t have a plan. Little did she know, I DID, but it involved a lot of watching and waiting.
Time passed. The sun arced across the sky. We got bored. Storey sat down, opened up her little journal, and pulled out ink and a quill. She’d spent most of our journey up the mountain scrawling away in that thing, but she’d kept the pages hidden from me. I tried to sneak up behind her to get a peek inside, but she slammed the book closed when I accidentally stepped on a twig.
“It’s military stuff,” she said. “Secret outposts, maps of the kingdom, stuff like that—you wouldn’t understand.”
“Actually,” I told her, “the general raised me, so I’m pretty much an expert on military stuff. Hand over the journal. I might have some ideas.” But she just shook her head and gave me a glare that could have withered the Forest of Flowers.
“I’ll take that as a NO,” I said.
She continued to keep the pages hidden from me, which made me more than a little curious about them. But I also had a journal, and I’d never let her look at it. It was private. So maybe she had her own secret journal. If it was a history of some sort, I might need to edit out a few details. That day I’d spent bumping up against the ogre’s buttocks could easily be skipped. I was going to mention that, but then she scowled at me again. So I went back to watching the postern and she returned to her journal.
Hours passed before that door finally swung open and an eighty-foot-tall
giant stepped out of the ice fortress. I called to Storey, “Time to storm the castle, soldier.”
Only, I needed to do one thing first.
I hate to admit it, but that’s when I finally found a use for that boot-tying spell. It was just the thing I needed to distract the guard. So I cleared my head and focused on the spell. I spoke the words in reverse, “Sucidnuor deit sutnacni s’eari.” Then I made those crazy hand gestures, everything from the elven knot to the goblin lace. And I think I almost got it right, which is pretty rare for me. If I had cast the spell correctly, both of the giant’s boots would have come UNlaced and he’d have fallen flat on his face so we could rush through the open door.
Instead, I watched as the shoelaces tied themselves into a bow. So I twisted my fingers back into the elven knot. I thought I’d misplaced a knuckle in the process, but this time the laces went into a slipknot followed by a noose. I went through the hand gestures again, but things just got weird after that. The laces tied themselves into what I believe was a dropper loop, followed by an overhand knot, and a triple figure eight. Professor Irae’s book, Lost in Knots, was packed with every possible way to tie a rope, so I knew each of them pretty well.
Apparently, this was all new to the frost giant. All that crazy knot tying caught and held his attention, and while the giant was distracted watching the shoelace show, Storey and I flew through the open door.
Inside, everything was made of pure ice. It glistened like the stars. Personally, I found it a little off-putting. I preferred dusty chambers and long corridors that disappeared into darkness as thick as molasses. All this white just made me feel cold, and the drafts blew like gale-force winds through the corridors. You could have fit the whole Grimhold inside just one of the hallways, and there were hundreds of those, each one bigger than the last.
Confessions of a Dork Lord Page 10
