Page 19 of My Unfair Godmother


  I tried again. “Tunic, gold, gold, gold.”

  I felt the jolt in my heart and knew it worked even before I saw the cloth transform to metal. I changed his robe, leggings, and boots. It would take him a while to get off the floor while wearing heavy, unbending clothes. And just as long to figure out how to remove the golden clothing from his body.

  King John was no longer quite so flexible.

  “Wow,” Hudson said, helping me to my feet. “When you break off an engagement, you do it in a big way. Remind me never to tick you off.”

  “You already have ticked me off.”

  He laughed and took hold of my hand. As we hurried out of the room, I picked up the magic book from the table. We slipped out into the corridor, where Hudson moved to holding my arm instead. It was all for show, I knew, the way he was holding my arm. When people saw us, they were supposed to think he was a guard taking me someplace. But I wanted to hold his hand—for real. I didn’t want to feel his coarse leather glove on my sleeve; I wanted to lazily intertwine my fingers with his.

  I pushed the thought away. Hudson had as much as said he was only helping me because I was Nick’s sister.

  While we went down the stairs, Hudson filled me in on the escape plans. “I know where some rope is. We can attach it to a merlon and climb down the back wall.”

  “A merlon?” I asked. The only Merlin I knew from the Middle Ages was King Arthur’s wizard.

  “It’s the part of the wall that sticks up,” he said. “You’ll need a disguise—one of the guard uniforms.” He glanced at me and sighed. “We’ll hope nobody gets too close to you. I can already tell you won’t make a very convincing man.” Hudson’s gaze was straight ahead now, and yet I still felt it on me, appraising me. “Where in the world did you get lipstick from, anyway?” he asked.

  “My fairy godmother. She feels makeup is very important.”

  “Just what we need right now—your lips to be a glossy red.” He shot another disgruntled glance at me. “I’ve never seen anyone with such big eyes.”

  I do have large eyes. I’ve always liked them. “What’s wrong with them?”

  “They’re girl eyes,” he said. “Princess eyes. I bet if you start singing right now, woodland creatures will come out and help with our escape.”

  I laughed, and the motion hurt my heart. Still, it felt good to laugh. “And I would accept their help,” I said.

  When we reached the ground floor, Hudson took hold of my elbow and strode purposefully down the corridors. No one questioned us. Not even when we went outside.

  We made our way across the courtyard as quickly as we could, heading toward the guardhouse. Above us on the wall, men yelled things to each other. Archers stood behind the tall parts of the castle wall, then leaned over and quickly shot through the gaps. An occasional arrow flew into the courtyard, its outline momentarily caught in the moonlight, but beyond that I didn’t see any evidence of the enemy.

  Maybe that should worry me, I thought. How many enemies had slipped through the castle’s defenses, and what were they doing now? Surely a couple of dozen men couldn’t hope to take over the castle. Were they protesters? Assassins?

  Hudson stopped so suddenly I bumped into his back, a wall of chain mail and muscle. “Stay behind me,” he whispered.

  I didn’t know what he’d seen, but I followed his command.

  “If they attack, run away.”

  They? And then I saw four men in front of us, still far away but advancing in our direction. I could make out their silhouettes. One wore strange bulky armor; the other three wore no armor at all, but carried weapons in their hands. Bows drawn. And they’d seen us.

  Hudson, even if he’d been good with his sword, couldn’t have stopped the men from shooting. And although his armor might have deflected the arrows, I had nothing to protect me.

  The men came closer, walking in crouching, soundless steps. Right toward us.

  Hudson held his sword at the ready. “Run,” he told me.

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t bear to think of him being shot, or worse yet, hacked down in a four against one fight. It’s my fault, I thought, because I changed the story. I shouldn’t have. I should have married King John, and then, after a year, Hudson could have gone home.

  “Run!” he said again, this time louder.

  I turned and ran. I had no idea where I was going, and each step pierced slivers of ice into my heart.

  A flashlight beam passed over me—a circle of light I’d seen a thousand times in my century, yet couldn’t make sense of here. And then I heard a voice I recognized. My father’s. “Tansy!” he called out. “Come back!”

  I stopped, breathless, and spun around. My father, impossible as it seemed, was part of the invaders. He had come for me.

  He had come for me!

  As I ran back to the group, the words repeated in my mind, each an exclamation of joy. I didn’t even notice the pain the footsteps brought. The flashlight had been turned off, so I couldn’t tell anything about the other men, but I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. My father wouldn’t have called me back otherwise.

  Even though it had been painted a dark green, I recognized my father’s face easily enough. He was the one walking toward me with his hands outstretched.

  I threw myself into his arms, gasping. He was here. He was safe.

  His bulky armor, I realized, was made up of pans of all sizes that had been tied together over his chest, back, and stomach. He also wore our two-handled pot on his head, secured by—from the minty smell of it—an entire box of dental floss. I could imagine Sandra making this outfit. “You are not going to storm the castle without wearing something safe,” she’d probably said.

  And he’d undoubtedly complained while putting it on. “All the other invaders will make fun of me.”

  My father ran his hand over my hair, scanning me the best he could. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “How did you get here?”

  He gestured to the other men and his armor rattled. “With some help.”

  One of the men was talking to Hudson. The other two still had bows drawn, and were surveying the area. I kept hold of my father’s hand, suddenly feeling like a little girl. I pulled him toward Hudson to make introductions. As I drew closer, I recognized the man talking to Hudson.

  It was Robin Hood himself.

  • • •

  Introductions were brief. I told my father that Hudson was from our century, but I didn’t have time to explain how he’d gotten here. Hudson and Robin Hood were busy plotting the best way over the walls. Robin wanted to stop in the barn and get sacks full of gold—it was what they had come for—but Hudson convinced him it was better to leave now. I could make them gold when we were safe.

  I wondered if they recognized each other. I wouldn’t think Hudson would forget Robin Hood’s voice, not after being held up in one century and tied up and left half naked in another, but if Hudson was angry with him, he didn’t show it. He told Robin Hood about the guard posts and the best entrances onto the wall. When they had agreed on one, we all scuttled off toward the chosen destination. My father took something out of his pocket and held it to his mouth. It was bigger than a cell phone and made an electronic crackling noise as he whispered into it. “We’ve found her. We’ll let you know when we reach the rendezvous point. Over and out.”

  “What’s that?” I whispered.

  “Nick’s old walkie-talkies,” he said, then held his finger to his lips—the sign to stay quiet.

  It was hard to do. I wanted to ask where Nick and Sandra were and how he’d gotten hold of Robin Hood and where we were going next.

  Instead I silently followed the procession. Hudson led the way, sword drawn. Robin Hood walked beside him, his leather boots hardly making a sound against the ground. The fighting was going on at the front section of the wall, so we went to the back. Only a handful of guards patrolled on top of the wall back there, and they were mostly looking for an attack from the outside.


  When we drew close to a set of stairs that led up the wall, Robin Hood turned back to my father. “Stay with your daughter. We’ll give the sign when it’s safe.”

  My father took a large cylinder that had been tied to his side and handed it to Hudson. It was thicker than a baseball bat but only half as long. “Do you know how to use this?” my dad asked.

  Hudson nodded.

  Then Robin Hood, Hudson, and the other two men took off, running for the stairs. I was still gaping at my dad. My mild-mannered father, who wouldn’t even shoot pigeons off our roof, had just handed Hudson some sort of weapon?

  I had thought Robin Hood and his band were uncivilized when they’d been running around my century, brandishing weapons. A week ago, my father and Hudson wouldn’t have dreamed of breaking a law, but here in the Middle Ages, my dad had joined forces with bandits and had broken into a castle to rescue me. What’s more, Hudson and I had robbed the king and left him bound and gagged in his room.

  What a thin coating civilization had. It hadn’t taken much to turn us into outlaws.

  Once we got home, I was probably in for a lot of stern dinnertime lectures about all of this.

  I shivered in the night air, holding the book tightly against my chest. I tried to spot Hudson and the others in the shadows along the top of the wall. “Are Nick and Sandra okay?” I whispered to my dad.

  He nodded.

  “I’m really sorry about this.” It felt strange to be the one saying it, meaning it, begging with those few syllables for some understanding. I had been stingy with my forgiveness over the years, and now I needed it so badly.

  He squeezed my hand. “I know. It’s okay.”

  Those words lifted a weight from inside me. And I wasn’t sure which made me feel lighter, that he had forgiven me, or that in that moment I had forgiven him for everything too. I squeezed his hand back.

  Minutes went by. A distant crash sounded on the wall. I leaned forward, straining to see what it was. Was that the sound chain mail made when it fell violently to the ground? Hudson’s chain mail maybe? I didn’t have long to worry about it. An owl hooted near the wall.

  Dad tugged on my arm. “That’s the signal.”

  We ran to the stairs. Even that short amount of jogging made my heart feel like it had been sliced up and returned to my chest. Then we started to climb. My dad kept turning back and motioning me to speed up.

  I pushed myself to keep going and decided the elevator was man’s greatest invention. Better than fire. I put my hand over my heart. It was wet again. It was never going to heal at this rate. And not only had I totally ruined this dress, I would probably ruin every article of clothing I ever put on. How was I supposed to explain that to people? I wouldn’t even be able to make it through first-period calculus. Excuse me, Mr. Rowley, can I go to the bathroom? My heart has ruptured again.

  My dad came down the stairs, took hold of my hand, and pulled me, stumbling, up the next few steps. I didn’t see Hudson until he was in front of me. These stairs were wider and Hudson stepped past my dad to me. Without a word of explanation, he picked me up, plunked me over his shoulder, and hauled me the rest of the way up the stairs.

  It would have been kind of romantic if my face hadn’t been smashed into the back of his chain mail. Plus there weren’t any handrails on these stairs either. And worrying about what it would feel like to fall that far kind of sucked all the romance out of the situation.

  When we reached the top of the wall, I waited for Hudson to put me down. He didn’t. He moved along the wall, half jogging, until we came to Robin Hood and his men. The Merry Men were tying up two guards with … I blinked to make sure I was seeing right … our bike locks. A strange white coating covered the guards. It looked like their faces and torsos had been frosted.

  “Thanks for helping me up the stairs,” I told Hudson.

  “No problem,” he said.

  I waited for him to set me down. He didn’t.

  He and my father whispered to each other about where to go next.

  “You can put me down now,” I said.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “You don’t weigh much.”

  “The blood is rushing to my head.”

  “But at least this way you won’t slow us down.”

  Using my arms to push against his back, I propped my head up. “I can be faster now. Going up stairs is just hard and …” I broke off as I got a better look at the white coating on the captured guards. Paint? Or maybe it was foam. “What did you do to those men?”

  “We used fire extinguishers.”

  Dad smiled proudly. “We may not have had any weapons at our house, but that doesn’t stop us from improvising.”

  “Will it hurt them?” I asked.

  “Nah,” Dad said. “Well, probably not. Besides, this way they won’t be flammable for a while.”

  One of the guards let out a muffled groan, and Robin Hood pointed his sword at him menacingly. The guard fell silent at once. Robin Hood shot Dad an angry look. “This would be easier if you let us dispatch the guards properly.”

  “We’ve already gone over this,” Dad said. “Killing someone could change history. That could be my great-great-great-grandfather you want to run through.”

  Robin Hood rolled his eyes and motioned for Will Scarlet to hurry securing the men. “Very well, then. Are we ready to leave this family reunion?”

  “Aye,” Will said, and stood up.

  The next moment, we all jogged along the wall, well, except for me. I bounced against Hudson’s shoulder, wishing chain mail weren’t quite so hard. The ribbons holding my hair had come loose, making it even harder to see what was going on.

  Finally we stopped. I wasn’t sure why until Hudson slid me off his shoulder.

  Little John had looped a rope around one of the stone merlons. He pulled on the rope, testing the knot’s strength. “She’ll hold,” he said, and to prove it, he hoisted himself over the edge and disappeared.

  Robin Hood wrapped a strip of cloth around his palm. “Now the rest of you.”

  My father pulled a pair of gardening gloves from his pocket and shoved them in my direction. “Put these on. They’ll save your hands from rope burn.”

  I took them and tried not to think about how far down it was, or the fact that I’d always stunk at rope climbing in PE.

  My father went next. Even as he flung one leg over the side of the wall, he was giving me directions. “You can do this,” he told me. “It’s like that rope swing you used to climb when we went to the lake, remember?”

  I stared at him bleakly. “We haven’t been to the lake since I was in fifth grade.”

  He took hold of the rope and flung his other leg over the wall. “Has it been that long?” He shook his head to banish that line of thinking. “Just don’t let go of the rope.” Then he was gone. I held my breath and listened, hoping I didn’t hear the sound of him falling.

  Hudson nudged me forward. “It’s your turn. Don’t freeze up, we need to hurry. Oh, and don’t scream. It will give away our position.”

  “I’m not going to scream,” I said. I hoisted myself on the wall, grabbed hold of the rope, and prayed that rope climbing was like bike riding and I would remember how to do this. Otherwise my fairy tale would have a very bad ending.

  New moral of the story: You should have paid attention in PE class.

  My father was nearly to the ground. He had slid down more than climbed down. I meant to climb down. The rope had other ideas. It was hard to get a good grip while wearing gardening gloves. I slid from the moment I let go of the wall. But I didn’t scream—except for in my mind, where I was screaming at the top of my lungs and coming up with really colorful curses for fairies.

  In less time than I thought, I reached the ground. Little John waved for Dad and me to follow him. As we did, Dad took out the walkie-talkie again. “We’re headed toward the rendezvous point. Over and out.”

  We strode down a hill. No trees grew around the castle walls. They’d been cleare
d, I supposed, to keep enemies from using them. I felt exposed out in the open grass. “Where are we going?” I asked my father.

  “To the road.”

  It was around front, where the fighting was. This did not seem to be a particularly good point to meet with Nick and Sandra, but I didn’t have time to ask about it. Little John was moving fast, and I didn’t want to lose sight of him.

  Before long, Hudson, Robin Hood, and Will came up behind us. “Good,” Little John said. “Now we can hurry.”

  I had been hurrying. Still, I tried to pick up my pace and accomplished a staggering run.

  “Are you all right?” Hudson asked, jogging effortlessly beside me.

  “If your mother tells you to marry a girl with a heart of gold, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” I regretted saying the words as soon as they left my mouth. I had forgotten about Hudson’s mother. But if he had a reaction, I didn’t see it.

  “Do you want me to carry you again?”

  “I’m fine,” I said. I couldn’t elaborate because I was panting too much.

  Hudson eyed me, as though waiting for me to collapse, but he didn’t say more on the subject.

  We reached the front of the castle, making a wide berth in the process to avoid any random arrows shot our way. The attackers had brought their own cover with them. They stood behind wooden walls with tiny slits that let the men shoot arrows from behind them. The walls were movable too. Every few minutes, the attackers skittered sideways or backward to avoid being hit by the rocks that the castle catapulted toward them.

  I recognized Nick right away. He was the one with the potato launcher over his shoulder. As I watched, he shot at the castle wall. A cloud of smoke went off where it hit. Obviously, he wasn’t shooting potatoes.

  The men were too far away for either side to do much damage, but damage wasn’t the point. This fight had only been a distraction. Once we were close enough to the road, Robin Hood gave a whistle. The men grabbed hold of their walls and fell back.

  I’m not sure whether their retreat gave the castle enough courage to send out knights after them, or whether they had planned to do that anyway, but the castle gate opened and knights on horses thundered toward us.