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The Hero's Guide to Storming the Castle

Page 11

by Christopher Healy


  “What?” the others all gasped.

  “When were you planning on sharing this little detail?” Frederic asked.

  “I’m trying to tell you now,” Liam snipped. “If you’d let me speak.”

  “Guys!” Ella hissed. “She’ll be back any second. Liam, talk.”

  “I got a glimpse at her diary,” Liam said. “It includes schemes to dethrone every ruling family in the Thirteen Kingdoms. If she were to pull it off, she’d create a power vacuum that she could then step into.”

  “How could one bony little woman do all that?” Gustav asked.

  “She’s got ‘JJDG’ written all over her journal,” Liam said. “Does anyone know what that could stand for?”

  “Jimmy John Digglesford Garbenflarben!” Duncan said.

  “Who’s that?” Liam asked hopefully.

  “I don’t know,” Duncan said. “But if he exists, his initials would be J.J.D.G. We should check him out.”

  “Look, everybody; somehow Briar’s plan all hinges around the Sword of Erinthia,” Liam said. “The sword must hold some sort of secret.”

  “Maybe it’s magic,” Ella said.

  “Could the sword be an actual key of some kind?” Frederic asked. “I remember a Sir Bertram the Dainty story about a hidden chamber that could only be opened with an ancient butter knife.”

  “I don’t care what the sword does,” Gustav said happily. “This is fantastic no matter what!”

  “Why?” Frederic asked.

  “Because we’re not really on some secret mission nobody can ever know about,” Gustav said. “We’re out to stop a crazy tyrant lady. And that will be big news! You can’t say this isn’t gonna help us in the public image department.”

  “I think I hear my book sales skyrocketing,” Duncan singsonged. “Nope, sorry, it was just Briar coming back.”

  They spun around to face the doorway, in which stood Briar, flanked by six new guardsmen. “What are you chatting about?” she asked. “Planning on double-crossing me?”

  “Relax, Briar, we were just talking,” Liam said. “It’s not unusual for friends to talk sometimes. Not that you’d understand such things.”

  “Ouch,” Briar said drily. “How about a little gratitude for the woman who just hooked you up with luxury suites at Avondell Palace? And to think they called you charming.”

  “Briar, we’re all very grateful for the room upgrades,” Frederic said. “Please forgive—”

  “But none of us believes for a second that you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart,” Liam butted in.

  Briar smiled and waved him off playfully. “Oh, you’re just saying that because I kidnapped you and threatened to execute your friends. Come on, people. Bygones are bygones, right? We’re all working together now. And we have hours yet before sundown. Who’s up for croquet?”

  Duncan began to raise his hand, but Liam pushed it back down.

  “So be it,” Briar said, her demeanor returning to its usual iciness. “Guards! Take our guests to their far-too-posh rooms and lock them in until morning.”

  As Ella and the princes were escorted to five separate rooms, Frederic called out, “What now?”

  Liam shouted the only reply he could think of: “We wait until morning. Then we go look for dwarfs, gnomes, and trolls!”

  10

  A HERO TAKES NO FOR AN ANSWER

  I cannot overstate the importance of good allies. But I will try: Good allies are more important than breathing.

  —THE HERO’S GUIDE TO BEING A HERO

  THE TEAM

  1. Liam

  2. Frederic

  3. Gustav

  4. Duncan

  5. Ella

  6. Dwarfs (for digging)

  7. Troll (for distraction)

  8. Gnome (for hole)

  9. Inside Man (?)

  “No,” Frank said without breaking his stride.

  “But Frank, it’s me,” Duncan said, jogging through his own backyard, trying to outpace the disgruntled dwarf. “I’m your hero, your prince!”

  “I can think of better words to describe you,” Frank groused.

  “Look, Mr. Frank,” Frederic said, stepping into the dwarf’s path to stop him. “We’re here on a matter of utmost urgency. I had hoped that, in order to help us save the world, we could count on the courage and honor of the dwarves.”

  “Dwarves,” Frank barked out of habit. He was so used to correcting everybody’s pronunciation of the word that it took him a second to realize it had not been necessary in this case. He eyed Frederic with a mix of skepticism and awe. “Hey, you said it right.”

  Fig. 15

  FRANK, unamused

  “Of course I did,” Frederic replied. “I know how important proper grammar is to you and your people.”

  “All right, fine,” Frank said. “You’ve got thirty seconds. Convince me why I should do this for you.”

  Frederic was about to follow up with a rousing speech, but before he could utter another word, the back door of Duncan’s house flew open and Snow White rushed out. She was wearing a garment of her own design—an overalls-sundress hybrid—accessorized with a headdress woven from marsh reeds. “Dunky!” She ran to her husband, hugged him, then pushed him away and waved her finger in his face. Then she pulled him to her and hugged him again. Then shoved him away, glared, and frowned at him. “Do you know how upset I am with you?”

  “Well, I didn’t at first,” he answered. “But then I did. And then I didn’t. And now I do again. But why? Did I do something wrong?”

  “You vanished without a word!” Snow exclaimed, her wide eyes glaring. “You left me alone. With your family. For days. It was only yesterday that I finally convinced them you weren’t in the outhouse all this time.”

  “But—But—” Duncan stammered.

  Snow looked sternly at Frederic. “I should have known the Princes Charming were behind Duncan’s disappearance,” she said. “It was only a matter of time before he ran off on another of your crazy quests. I just thought somebody would have had the decency to tell me about it.”

  “But I did! Or, I mean, Frank did,” Duncan said. “The quickety boy with the boots came for me. And I had to go stop Liam from marrying the shrill lady. Only I got arrested instead. And now we have to steal a pretty sword from the Bandit King. Frank was supposed to tell you everything. He promised.”

  Snow spun to face down Frank, who was trying to sneak around the corner of the house. The dwarf looked up at her sheepishly.

  “Frank!” Snow said. The one word had the weight of an entire angry tirade.

  “It’s possible I may have said something to make Duncan believe that maybe I was going to tell you about his little outing,” the dwarf mumbled.

  At that moment, if beams of flame had shot forth from Snow White’s eyes and flash-fried Frank, nobody would have been surprised.

  “Um, Snow? Ms. White?” Frederic asked. “Duncan is in the middle of a very important mission, and we desperately need the dwarves to dig a tunnel for us. I’m wondering if you might speak to them on our behalf?”

  “I believe Duncan and Frank each have a lesson to learn,” Snow said, thrusting her chin up in the air. “So I’m going to teach them.” She marched back inside.

  “What did she mean by that?” Frederic asked uneasily.

  Both Duncan and Frank shrugged.

  A few minutes later, Snow stepped back out, dragging two large baskets filled with all sorts of random odds and ends (a sewing kit, drumsticks, a wheel of cheese, a teapot, a marble paperweight in the shape of a chipmunk, about two hundred loose buttons, dominoes . . . ). “Please put these in the wagon for me,” she said.

  “Why?” Duncan asked as he obediently carried one of the baskets to Snow’s covered wagon, which was parked by the side of the house.

  “I’m coming with you, silly,” Snow said.

  “That’s crazy talk,” Frank said immediately. “But if you insist on going, you can bet we’ll be following right beh
ind.”

  Frederic breathed a sigh of relief—prematurely.

  Snow raised her right hand, putting the left over her heart. “I thought you dwarfs were my best friends, but you’ve betrayed my trust. It will take a lot to earn that trust back. I hereby vow that any dwarfs I see while I’m away will be banished from Sylvaria forever.”

  Frank growled in frustration. Snow White did not make vows lightly. The last time she took an oath like that, she promised to never again overcook a brownie—and true to her word, every brownie she served after that was a drippy lump of raw dough. Frank backed down and walked off glumly.

  “You know, Ms. White,” Frederic said. “This mission could be quite dangerous. I’m not even sure why I’m on it.”

  “There’s no talking me out of this,” Snow said. She handed him another basket. “Here. I’ve just got nineteen more of these to grab and then we can go.” She went back inside.

  “On the bright side, I get to spend more time with my wife,” Duncan said with a smile.

  “Liam’s not going to be happy about this,” Frederic said queasily.

  “I expect not,” Duncan replied matter-of-factly.

  “Do you think maybe she’ll be able to help us figure out the secret of the sword?” Frederic asked, trying to be optimistic. “Maybe crack the JJDG code?”

  “Snow? Pfft!” Duncan laughed. “She can’t even find her shoes in the morning. She just makes a new pair every day.”

  Snow poked her head out of a window and shouted, “By the way, do either of you know how to drive a wagon?”

  “Stuuuuuurm-hayyyyyyy-gennnnnnn!” Gustav shouted his battle cry as he spurred his horse and charged directly into a mob of growling, thrashing trolls. He leapt from his saddle only to be caught in midair by a large, one-horned troll that slammed him to the ground.

  About a hundred yards behind, Liam winced. “I knew this was a bad idea.” He drew his sword and galloped into the fray.

  “Run, Gustav!” Liam yelled as he whipped his sword toward Mr. Troll. The big creature leaned back, dodging the blow but losing a few hunks of swamp-colored hair in the process. As the green fuzz floated to the ground, Gustav grabbed Liam’s arm.

  “What the heck are you doing?” Gustav snapped.

  “Uh, rescuing you?” Liam said, right before Mr. Troll socked him in the face. The Erinthian prince flew through the air, landed in a heap of cape, and was immediately piled on by a dozen roaring trolls.

  A short time later, Liam sat on a jagged tree stump (or troll chair) trying to soothe his swollen cheek with an herbal compress (aka, a handful of mud and pine needles).

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Troll,” he said with some difficulty. “I didn’t realize you were just conducting a class.” He turned to Gustav and added, “Why does it feel like we spend half of our adventures apologizing?”

  “Speak for yourself. I don’t apologize for anything,” said Gustav. He punched Liam in the shoulder. “See, I’m not sorry for that.”

  “It okay, Squirmy Man,” Mr. Troll said to Liam. “Any friend of Angry Man is friend of Troll. So, to what do Troll owe pleasure of this visit?” He leaned back on his stump and took a bite out of a pinecone.

  “We hoped to offer you some employment,” Liam said. “My team and I are about to embark on a very important, though possibly quite dangerous, quest. In order for us to succeed, there will be certain—”

  “Squirmy Man talk too much,” Mr. Troll said. “Angry Man explain.”

  “You wanna break into Bandit Boy’s castle with us?” Gustav asked.

  Mr. Troll stood up. “Troll just need get Troll’s things.” He looked around, picked up another pinecone, and said, “Troll ready. Let’s go.”

  “It’s got to be around here somewhere,” Ella said, crawling on her hands and knees, pushing fern fronds out of her way to examine every large rock she could uncover.

  “You’ve gotten us lost, haven’t you?” Briar asked, sounding strangely delighted by the question. She stood several yards away, leaning against a tree.

  Ella glared over her shoulder at her. “I am not lost. The gnome’s house is definitely around here somewhere. The search might go faster if you help, you know.”

  “And ruin this dress? I don’t think so.” Briar was clad in one of her “travel gowns,” meaning it had slightly fewer diamonds sewn onto its cuffs than usual.

  “Why did you insist on coming with me if you’re not going to do anything?” Ella asked.

  “Everybody else partnered up; why shouldn’t we? Besides, I thought it would be fun for us to have some Ladies Alone Time. So what’s up with you and Frederic?”

  “What?” Ella’s palm slipped on a mossy stone, and her face landed in the dirt. She quickly picked herself up and brushed soil from her eyebrows. “We’re engaged. What of it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You and him? I just don’t see it.”

  “Well, no one asked you. And I suggest you keep your opinions—”

  “I hate to interrupt a good rant, sweetie, but I think you just found something.” Briar pointed to the rock that Ella had slipped on. With the moss out of the way, a miniature door was visible. Above it hung a tiny sign that read G. GNOME.

  Ella set aside her anger and knocked on the little door, which opened a second later to reveal a wee, bearded man in a little pointed cap.

  “Ella!” the gnome cried out cheerily. “It’s so great to see you! I love visitors!”

  “It’s great to see you, too. . . .” Ella realized she had no memory of the gnome’s name. “. . . pal.”

  “Oh, Ella,” Briar said with feigned sweetness. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?”

  “I love introductions!” the gnome trumpeted.

  Ella shot Briar a dirty look, then smiled at the gnome. “Um, Briar Rose, this is . . . G . . . Gee, it’s just so fantastic to see you again, friend! Who cares about these formalities, right?”

  “Sure, that’s fine!” the gnome giggled. “I mean, I love formalities . . . but that’s okay! I love being casual, too!”

  “Great!” Ella shouted, trying to match the gnome’s level of enthusiasm. (Not all gnomes were as sunny and agreeable as this one—like Ted, the gnome who got migraines—but in general, gnomes jumped at any chance to be helpful.)

  “Well, buddy,” Ella said. “Remember when you said I could call on you if I ever needed a favor?”

  “Absolutely! Whatcha got? I love doing favors for people!”

  “Well, an important, priceless treasure was stolen from us,” Ella said. “And to get it back, we need the help of someone who can fit into a very small, tight tunnel.”

  “Boy, did you come to the right gnome! I love tunnels! I’ll put a snack together and then we can head off for some treasure snatchin’! I love treasures!” Before the gnome stepped back into his rock house, though, he stopped and turned back to Ella, suddenly serious. “There aren’t going to be monsters, are there? I don’t love monsters.”

  “Monsters?” Ella echoed. “No, there shouldn’t be.”

  “Fantastic!” The gnome stepped inside his home.

  “Wow,” Briar said slyly. “I didn’t take you for such an easy liar.”

  “I didn’t lie,” Ella said as she dusted away a few remaining strands of moss that were sullying the gnome’s entryway.

  “No monsters?” Briar said. “I seem to recall that the tunnel we’re sending this tidbit into is called the Snake Hole.”

  “Snakes aren’t monsters; they’re animals.”

  “Even the giant ones?”

  “Many snakes are naturally large.”

  Briar grinned. “I think I underestimated you.”

  The gnome reappeared with a picnic basket. “All right!” he said. “Let’s go on our monster-free adventure!”

  Frederic, Duncan, and Snow were the first group to arrive at the team’s designated meeting spot: an empty tower that was littered with snapped mandolin strings and smelled oddly of rancid bacon. As the sun went down, Duncan lit a
fire—unintentionally. But once the shrub was already ablaze, he figured they might as well roast the mini-sausages Snow had packed.

  Fig. 16

  Sausage ROASTING

  “So Sleeping Beauty is going to take over the world unless we find this sword of yours, huh?” Snow asked. She took a wiener-on-a-stick and waved it rapidly over the flames as if she were trying to swat a bug with it.

  “That’s what Liam says,” Frederic replied. “I sure hope he’s right, or we’re doing all of this for nothing. Or . . . No, I hope he’s wrong, because that would mean there’s really nothing to worry about. Except we’d still be putting our lives at risk. Oh, I don’t know what I think.”

  “The important thing is that we stop the wedding,” Duncan said.

  “That was four days ago,” Frederic said. “The important thing now is that we figure out the secret of the Sword of Erinthia. The abbreviation JJDG doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?”

  “My favorite sandwich!” Snow said. “Jelly, jelly, dragonfruit, and ginger.”

  “You put jelly on twice?” Frederic asked.

  “I have to,” Snow replied. “I hate the taste of dragonfruit.”

  “Well, I don’t think that’s it but . . .” Frederic stopped when he heard a rustling in the bushes. “Shhh! Here’s Briar now.”

  “Oh, she doesn’t look so horrible,” Snow said loudly as she stood to see the newcomers.

  “Um, that’s Ella,” Frederic said, lowering his head.

  Briar stepped out from behind Ella, scowling. “And who is this?” she asked bitterly.

  “This is Snow White!” Duncan announced. He offered Briar a stick: “Weenie?”

  “Why is she here?” Briar asked.

  “I’m teaching Duncan a lesson,” Snow said, and went back to swinging her sausage through the flames.

  Ella leaned over and whispered to Frederic, “The dwarfs?”

  Frederic shook his head.

 

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