The Warrior Princess of Pennyroyal Academy

by M. A. Larson

  “Cheers, mate,” said Forbes.

  “I don’t want him—”

  “I’m sure you don’t. But you do need him.”

  “Hang on, he gets to go and I don’t?” said Maggie.

  “Why aren’t you going?” said Remington.

  “What’s your father going to say?” said Evie, glaring at Forbes.

  “I don’t know,” replied Forbes. “But I won’t be around to hear it.”

  No one else spoke. Then, Galligantusohn bellowed, “It’s been too long since I’ve had children stuck in my teeth! Get on with it up there!” This led to a flurry of dopey laughter and snorting from Scabby Potatoes.

  Evie glanced around the circle and assessed her team, letting her frustration settle. Then she looked up at the sky, which had brightened to the color of days-old ash.

  “All right,” she said, throwing her knapsack over her shoulder and adjusting her sword. “Let’s go.”

  • • •

  Evie sat in a loop of rope like a children’s swing as her friends lowered her slowly down the well. The coarse fibers were digging into her thighs, even through her uniform. She looked farther down the well, but the flickering orange of her torch couldn’t reach the bottom. Above her, a small circle of gray grew progressively smaller.

  The outline of Basil’s head appeared. “All right, Evie?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “But hurry.”

  Lower and lower she went. The pungency of mold choked her. The well was coated with a thin layer of wet, spongy moss. She could hear dripping water somewhere below, and the oppressive quiet of walls that were as close as a tomb’s. The rope was swaying a bit, making her legs rub against the slick limestone. Thankfully, the knapsack slung over her shoulder protected her back. She couldn’t bear another bit of cold, wet fabric sticking to her body.

  She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead as the rope twirled her in space. The stone bricks swirled round and round. She thought again about the plan and how it had gone smoothly so far. Of course, we did exchange Maggie for Forbes, but aside from that we’re right where we’re meant to be.

  She glanced down again, and this time, to her relief, her torch reflected off black water. Moments later, her feet slipped into it. Even for someone who had been raised by dragons, the cold was a shock. Thankfully, she only sank to her knees before her feet found the bottom. It was as slippery as if it had been coated with candle wax. She quickly gave the rope three sharp tugs and was pleased to see it lift a few inches in response. She drew her sword and took a deep breath.

  Make sure the area is clear, then signal the others.

  She fished the rope out of the water and secured it around her waist. With the torch held high in one hand and her sword in the other leading the way, she stepped through an arched passageway and into a brick tunnel beneath the earth. Up ahead, water dripped with a haunting echo. She was about to enter a very large chamber.

  She swallowed dryly as she sloshed ahead. The rope pulled tight around her waist, then gave as her friends let out some slack. The torch was creating a cloud of black smoke, and the walls were as dark and shiny as tar. Still, she moved ahead. She was listening for . . . she wasn’t sure exactly. She was listening for dwarfs.

  Her legs swished gently through the water while her eyes bounced around the shadows of the tunnel. Finally, after a few more steps, still holding her breath, she noticed something ahead.

  “What?” she said in confusion. Her voice echoed down the tunnel. Now she splashed ahead quickly, no longer concerned about the noise she was making. An iron grate had been sealed across the tunnel, masoned into the brick. Water passed through the grate and continued into a much wider chamber beyond, but Evie couldn’t see it. She could only hear it.

  “What is this?” She tried to jar the grate loose, but it didn’t move in the slightest. She searched the edges for some sort of weakness and found none. Now what? She tried to peer past the grate, but all she could see were shadows playing off the brick. Bin the plan, she thought. Find another well. Adapt or die. That’s what a trained princess does.

  “Blast!” She sighed, slamming her fist against the grate. She turned and splashed back to the bottom of the well.

  “It’s sealed!” she shouted up to the tiny circle of light. Her voice sounded hollow, compressed inside the well walls. “There’s a grate here! Pull me up!” There was no answer from the top, just her own muffled echoes. She gave the rope three tugs.

  Nothing happened. She peered up at the light.

  “Hello?” she called. Then she gave it an even harder tug.

  There was a soft hiss as the rope began to race down the well, slithering into the water around her. Then it stopped. She was knee-deep at the bottom of a well, and there was no one holding the other end of her rope.

  Evie’s heart began to pound. She dropped the torch, which hissed into the water, then began feeling along the walls. There were plenty of rough joints in the mortar between stones, but everything was coated with the slippery slime of decades of dripping water. She began to climb, carefully. She knew it was only a trick of the mind, but she couldn’t stop picturing a furious dwarf looking up from the shadows beneath her. The face in her mind grew clearer and closer, though she knew it wasn’t really there at all. Her foot slipped off a stone and she nearly plunged all the way back to the bottom, but her dragon childhood had strengthened her fingers and legs in ways other humans never knew. Climbing the odd tree or castle tower wasn’t nearly so grueling as trying to keep up with Evie’s sister. So, despite her growing fear and despite the treacherous walls, she made quick work of the well. After a few minutes of climbing, she glanced up and realized she was only about fifteen feet from the top.

  “Hello?” she cried. When her echoes had receded down into the darkness, she heard something from up above. It was the unmistakable baritone of King Hossenbuhr.

  “Well? Do something! They’re trying to steal my son, I tell you!”

  A jolt of panic shot through her. They’ve caught us. She began to climb even faster. Then she heard other voices above, and nearly all of them angry.

  “This is an unfathomable disappointment,” came the voice of Princess Beatrice, flat and clear and angry. “To undermine the Queen in a time of crisis.”

  Evie scrambled the last few yards to the top of the well and pulled herself out. Beatrice stood alongside Corporal Liverwort and a handful of her princess administrators staring down at Remington, Basil, Demetra, and Forbes. King Hossenbuhr and his guardsmen sat on horseback opposite where Evie was climbing out of the well.

  “And let me guess,” said the Headmistress with thin, glaring eyes. “This was all your idea, wasn’t it?”

  “Headmistress, please,” said Evie. “You’ve got to let us explain—”

  “I haven’t the patience. I’ve had more than enough of your sneaking about since you’ve been at the Academy. Stolen food in your knapsacks. Swords strapped to your belts. Any fool can see that you’re planning to go out there. And did you ever consider how it might affect our guests to wake and find you gone? You hadn’t, had you? It would set off a panic. Those people are terrified already. If they found that some of our own cadets have lost faith in our security, it would destroy the fragile calm we’ve worked so hard to establish. There could be talk of mutiny against me and my staff. There could be a mad dash into the forest, forcing us to shift our resources to recovering bodies.” She stepped forward again and looked at Evie with a mixture of contempt and sadness. “Who do you think you are to do something like this?”

  “But, Headmistress, please allow me—”

  “We are here to protect you, Cadet,” said Beatrice, her voice rising. “Whether you understand our methods or not, they are in place to protect you. We are not required to explain our decisions to you, but you are required to accept them, something you have failed to do time and again. And now
, not only have you involved your friends in one of your ridiculous schemes, but you have also implicated the son of an esteemed visitor.”

  King Hossenbuhr straightened his sloping back with pride. Evie glanced at Remington. His body was tense, yet his face was calm. The rest of her friends looked as though the slightest wind might cause them to scatter like frightened hares.

  “Our ridiculous scheme worked last time, didn’t it?” said Demetra, a slight quiver in her voice. “It was us who saved Cinderella, not you.”

  A dark shadow fell over the Headmistress’s eyes. Her nostrils flared as she took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Because we are facing such unusual circumstances, I will give you one final chance. Return to your barracks this instant and I will forgive your insubordination.”

  “You heard her, boy,” said King Hossenbuhr. “March.”

  Forbes’s eyes flicked from his father to the Headmistress and back again.

  “Move, now, or you are all discharged from the Academy. None of you will be princesses or knights.”

  Evie’s heart was racing. “We can’t stay, Princess! We’re going to die in here—”

  “Enough!” bellowed Beatrice. “Seize them!”

  No one moved. Confused, Beatrice looked back at the princesses behind her.

  “What, you mean us?” said Princess Moonshadow. “We’re not guards.”

  “Well, someone’s got to seize them!”

  A sword shinged out of its scabbard. Evie gasped as Remington stepped forward, his blade at the ready. “You’ve already discharged me, so perhaps I can speed this along. We have one chance to save ourselves, and this is it. I’m afraid it’s time for us to go.”

  “Come away from there, Forbes!” called King Hossenbuhr. He climbed down from his horse and took a step toward his son.

  Shing! Now Forbes’s sword came free.

  Shing! Hossenbuhr’s face turned to fury as he pulled his own blade.

  Shing! Shing! The guardsmen unsheathed their swords as well.

  “All right!” called Marline. She was hurrying down from the barracks with a giant smile on her face. “I heard you lot shouting down here, and I knew there’d be blades!” Shing! She pulled her own free as she joined the group. “Who’s fighting who?”

  “Go on, Bas,” Demetra whispered to Basil.

  “Hmm? Oh, right.” Shing!

  “Enough!” shouted Beatrice. “Put your swords away, you fools. Cadet Marline, get back to your barracks this instant—”

  “Princess Marline.” She gave Beatrice a wink. High above, the dark shape of her hawk circled.

  “I’m very sorry, Headmistress,” said Evie, picking up her knapsack from the ground. “We didn’t tell you our plan because we knew you’d object.”

  “Has it ever crossed your mind that I might know what I’m doing?” said Beatrice.

  “Forbes!” barked Hossenbuhr. “This is not how I raised you! Put that thing away and get over here this instant!”

  “You didn’t raise me at all, though, did you?” said Forbes. “And a consequence of that is that I don’t particularly care what you say.”

  “I’ve lost my wife and my kingdom, and I’ll not lose my son as well. You two, disarm him and take him to the keep.”

  The guardsmen dismounted and stepped forward. Marline bounded across the field and jumped between them. Her eyes were wide, her smile hungry.

  “Marline, do not . . . Oh, blast it all,” said Beatrice.

  “You’re not the only king here,” said Remington. “Perhaps it’s time I issued some orders as well. Forbes, you’re coming with us.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Forbes.

  Hossenbuhr turned to Remington with a furious smirk. “Yes, I heard about your father. A shame. By all accounts, he was a decent man. However, a dead father does not a king make.”

  “There are witches coming across that wall in a matter of days,” said Remington. “I’d prefer to show them my face rather than my backside. And that’s why Forbes is with me. He’d rather fight back than cower in someone else’s keep.”

  Hossenbuhr’s grin faded into dead-eyed rage.

  “We could have avoided all this if you’d only seized them,” spat Beatrice to her staff.

  “Forbes,” continued Remington, “mount that horse and take Evie with you. The giants are distracted. If we go now, we can outrun them.” They all looked at the giants on the northwest end of campus, who were busy fighting over a bear.

  “Remington, what are you doing?” said Evie, stepping forward.

  “Stay there!” he called.

  “Listen to him, love,” said Marline. “Lots of metal over here.”

  And that was certainly true. Steel points filled the air, each held by someone whose nerves were thin. As everyone stared at one another, it was Basil who took action. He replaced his own sword and sneaked around behind the small crowd, where he mounted one of the guardsmen’s horses.

  “Hey!” the man called, but Basil managed to steer the horse to where Demetra and Forbes were standing. He reached down and helped Demetra up. With the Bandit’s Chair strapped to his back, he gave her the reins.

  “Come on, Evie! There are two more horses there!” shouted Demetra.

  The swords wavered like vipers ready to strike. The guardsman whose horse had been taken was furious. “Get back here with that!”

  “Forbes! Choose a horse and go!” shouted Remington. “Now, before we attract the giants’ attention!”

  “My son is staying here,” said Hossenbuhr. “You, however, are free to go. And when you’re out there with the witches, you’ll know exactly what your father saw before he died.”

  Remington’s jaw tightened. Evie could see in his face what was about to happen.

  And that’s when the swords did what they had been made to do.

  Everyone screamed, even Princess Beatrice. Hossenbuhr arced his blade above his head like an executioner’s ax. It came down with a terrific crash of metal on metal. Flashes of silver began to whir through the air, punctuated with deafening clangs. Hossenbuhr chopped down at Remington again and again and again, but each time, his steel was turned aside. Marline found herself battling both guardsmen at once. Blades flew, people screamed, and the already-wobbly mission to save the Academy vanished into the clouds.

  “Stop it!” shouted Evie, but her voice was only one of a chorus. She glanced at the giants, who were thankfully still busy punching one another over the bear.

  Remington swiped back, catching Hossenbuhr off balance. He knocked the King to the ground, then wheeled to help Marline fight off the other two. “Evie, go!”

  Hossenbuhr regained his feet and came straight after Remington, driving him steadily backward with a relentless assault.

  “Stop!” screamed Evie again.

  Hossenbuhr ignored her, keeping his focus on Remington. “You are better than I expected,” he admitted.

  “I’m better than I expected,” said Remington.

  “You’re a stellar tactician,” said Hossenbuhr. His momentum had stalled, and now Remington was beginning a counterattack.

  “Learned it from my father.” He switched hands and attacked again, and now it was Hossenbuhr giving ground.

  “Stop this instant!” shouted Beatrice.

  Marline kicked one of the guardsmen, knocking him to the ground. She leapt onto his back and wheeled to exchange blows with the other.

  Remington, meanwhile, had suddenly claimed the advantage. His sword flashed through the air like a hummingbird, coming at Hossenbuhr from a million different angles. Evie noticed something different in his face as well. His eyes were wide, his nostrils flared like a steaming dragon. His lips were set tight and his face was crimson. He seemed to be gaining strength as Hossenbuhr lost his.

  With a mighty swing, Remington delivered a blow that knocked Ho
ssenbuhr completely off his feet. The King landed squarely on his back, sword still somehow in hand, but before he could counter, Remington was on top of him. The tip of his blade hovered an inch above Hossenbuhr’s neck, his breath coming as quickly as a hunting wolf’s. Hossenbuhr looked down his nose at the blade, not saying a word. With the second guardsman distracted, Marline bashed the hilt of her sword into his back, knocking him to the dirt as well.

  “That is enough!” shouted Beatrice. She stepped forward, her hands outstretched. “That is enough! Will somebody please seize somebody?”

  Remington stood and glared down at King Hossenbuhr. Everything had suddenly gone silent. “Forbes, take that horse. Evie, get on with him.”

  “Remington—”

  “Get on the horse, Evie,” he spat.

  Forbes walked over and climbed atop his father’s horse. He looked down at the King, who was lying on his back in the mud.

  “What an incredible disappointment you turned out to be,” said Hossenbuhr.

  “I feel the same way,” said Forbes. He urged the horse toward the well where Evie was standing. She pulled herself up behind him.

  “Go on,” said Remington. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Evie looked at the giants. Blunderbull had Galligantusohn in a headlock.

  “Now’s our chance!” she said. “Let’s go!”

  “Hang on, you’re not leaving me!” said Marline. She leapt off the guardsman.

  “Get back here!” shouted Beatrice. “I gave you an order!”

  “Sorry, we’re a bit busy trying to save your life,” said Forbes.

  The horses took off for the western hillside, Marline racing after them on foot. Evie looked back and found Remington’s eyes. Half of his mouth curled into a smile.

  “Look out!” she screamed.

  Remington wheeled and parried the guardsman’s attack, but it gave Hossenbuhr all the time he needed to scramble to his feet.

  The horses surged down the hill. Evie looked back helplessly as Hossenbuhr lunged forward and planted his sword directly in the center of Remington’s chest. There was a dull clang, and his limp body fell to the ground.