Fig. 14

  Wall of SECRECY

  “Anyway, once I was inside I learned that the Sword of Erinthia is down on the dungeon level, locked in a vault—the Vault o’ Fine Loot they call it. But here’s the tricky part: The switch that opens the vault is up on the castle’s roof. There’s a strange man up there, a man covered with even more tattoos than my grandmother. And this man, it seems, sends a thirty-foot-long snake down into a hole—the Snake Hole they call it—to trigger the vault switch. The Snake Hole is very deep, and just wide enough for the snake to fit in. Granted, it’s a pretty big snake, but even I couldn’t squeeze into that hole. And I’m on the thin side. My grandmother used to call me Swizzlestick.”

  Smimf stood in silence for a minute while everyone simply stared at him. “Oh, I’m done,” he finally said.

  Everyone started talking at once until Liam hushed them. “One at a time, people,” he shouted.

  Gustav spoke loudly enough to make sure he was first to be heard. “A vault in the basement that can only be opened by a giant snake in a hole on the roof: Who thinks up something like that?”

  “A ten-year-old boy, that’s who,” Ella said. “Remember that this is my cousin we’re talking about. I knew Deeb when he was five. Even back then he’d create sadistic little traps to catch mice in—like a piece of cheese tied to a match so that when the mouse grabbed the cheese, it pulled the match across a flint stone, lit the wick of a tilted candle, and drizzled hot wax down onto the poor animal. I had to rescue so many trapped critters every time he visited.”

  “It doesn’t matter that the castle’s defenses sound crazy,” Frederic said mournfully. “What matters is that they sound impossible to get past. I, for one, don’t plan on doggie-paddling through a school of bladejaw eels.”

  “Oh, hey!” Duncan blurted out. “Wasn’t there a Sir Bertram the Dainty story where he made a bladejaw eel soufflé?”

  “Yes,” Frederic said. “The Battle for the Baron’s Brunch. Bladejaw eels are an incredibly rare delicacy. They’re rare because the eels usually eat you before you can eat them.”

  “And they’re only found in some very faraway country, right?” Duncan said, trying to remember the story. “Dorf?”

  “Dar,” Frederic corrected. “It’s that horrible, scary land from all those terrifying old bedtime stories.” It’s also where my mother died, he thought.

  “How in the world did Rauber get a bunch of eels that are only found in Dar?” Liam asked. “Smimf, are you sure that’s what they were?”

  “Almost positive, sir, Your Highness, sir,” the messenger said. “When I was younger, my grandmother’s favorite book to read to me was 101 Animals You Should Be Glad Only Live in Dar.”

  “As I was saying,” Frederic sighed, “this is an impossible mission.”

  “Unless . . . ,” Ella said hopefully. “Smimf, can we borrow those boots of yours?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, Your Highness, sir. I would gladly lend them to you if I were able to get them off. But I can’t. They’re magically bound to my feet. There’s a curse on them, I think. At least that’s what my grandmother said before that torch-wielding mob chased her out of town.”

  “Well,” Duncan started, “maybe Smimf can just go back in there himself and—”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Briar interjected. “I can’t trust the retrieval of a priceless artifact to a mere messenger. Besides, there’s no way a true hero like my Liam would allow an untrained teenager to risk his life like that.”

  “No, of course not,” Liam said quietly.

  “Um, Briar?” Frederic asked. “I don’t suppose there’s any other legendary treasure you might want us to steal for you instead? Perhaps something in a more convenient location?”

  Briar sighed. “I knew working with you guys would be a waste of my time. I’ll send a request to that team of ninjas from Kom-Pai.”

  “No!” Liam stood up. He alone knew they had no choice—they had to be the ones to recover the sword. But with Briar constantly hovering around, he couldn’t exactly share that point with the others. “People, you’re thinking about this all wrong. It’s not impossible. Sure, there are a few obstacles, but we can get past them.”

  “Just tell us your plan, Liam,” Duncan said. “You’re our super-planner.”

  Everyone looked eagerly to Liam.

  “All right,” Liam said. He crossed his arms. “The plan. Yes. I will tell you the plan now.” He looked off into the corner of the room and nodded to himself several times as if he were in the middle of some deep mental calculation. In reality, his mind was a blank.

  Have you ever been so worried about something that it got stuck in your head and prevented you from thinking of pretty much anything else? Perhaps you’re dreading the thought of eating an olive loaf sandwich your mother packed you for lunch, and when the teacher asks you for the square root of nine, the only answer you can come up with is Olive loaf. What’s the longest river in the world? Olive loaf. How does the water cycle work? Olive loaf. That’s how Liam was feeling at that moment in the War Room, only he wasn’t thinking about olive loaf.

  Each time Liam thought about how they could steal the Sword of Erinthia, his brain responded with Hire actors to pretend they’re criminals.

  No! he screamed at himself mentally. Stop and focus, Liam. Get Cremins and Knoblock out of your head. They have nothing to do with this mission. You may be working through a little confidence crisis right now, but you can’t let anybody else see that. Especially Briar. Because if she doesn’t believe you can get the sword for her, she’ll recruit somebody else to do it.

  “Hey, hubby,” Briar said. “The rest of us can’t hear your inner monologue, you know. You might want to use those vocal cords of yours.”

  “Huh?” Liam said. His team needed a plan, and he couldn’t give them one. He was going to have to fake it. “Sorry, everyone, here we go. Let’s start with that Wall of Secrecy. According to Smimf’s report, going over the wall would be . . . difficult.”

  Pause.

  “Sooooooooooo . . .” Liam drew out the word, praying one of his companions would jump in.

  “So we’ll have to go under it!” Ella said enthusiastically.

  “Yes! Exactly!” Liam shouted, pumping his fist the way he did when he was six and had won his first Cross-Duchy Fencing Championship. “We need a tunnel. Thank you, Ella.”

  “Ooh! Ooh! Dwarfs are expert diggers,” Duncan said, bouncing in his seat. “And Frank will do anything for me. He and I are like this.” He attempted to cross his fingers but couldn’t quite figure out how to do it.

  “That’s just what I was about to say,” Liam added. Dwarfs digging tunnels—that’s actually good, he thought. At least I think it is. Would I even know a good plan if I heard one? At least it doesn’t involve actors pretending to be criminals.

  “And if I recall correctly,” Liam added, “the dwarfs work fast, too.”

  “Oh, yes,” Duncan agreed. “One time a gopher stole my pants, and the dwarfs tunneled after him in, like, ten minutes.”

  “Dwarfs are not invisible, though,” Frederic said. “What about Rauber’s lookout towers?”

  “We just need a distraction,” Ella said.

  “Distraction, right,” Liam said. “Something that will draw the attention of the guards from all four watchtowers.” Like actors pretending to be villains, he heard in his mind. He ignored it.

  Smimf timidly raised his hand. “Um, if I might interject, sir, Your Highness, sir. There was a moment of panic while I was at the castle. Someone shouted, ‘Troll! Troll!’ And every bandit in sight ran to check. Turned out it was just a tumbleweed, but still, the bandits were in quite a dither about it.”

  “Perfect!” Duncan shouted with excitement. “I know where we can get a tumbleweed!”

  “I think what we actually need is a troll,” Ella said, patting Duncan on the shoulder.

  “Of course that’s what we need,” Liam said. “It makes sense that Rauber would
hate trolls after he got trampled by about fifty of them last summer. An experience like that is bound to leave an impression.”

  Frederic chuckled.

  “This is no laughing matter, Frederic,” Liam said, stone-faced.

  Frederic’s grin vanished. “Sorry—trampled by trolls; leave an impression—I assumed you were joking,” he said. “You actually plan to use a troll?”

  Liam paused. Hire an actor, his brain told him. “No,” he said aloud, rather angrily. When people looked at him strangely, he quickly corrected himself. “I mean, yes. If Rauber’s men know he’s afraid of trolls, we need to use a troll to get their attention.”

  “Leave that bit to me,” Gustav said. “I can get us a troll, no problem.”

  “Great,” Liam said.

  Frederic eyed him skeptically. They’d befriended trolls before, but only because they were desperate. Trolls were violently unpredictable creatures—not the types of allies Liam typically hinged a plan around. “And once we’re past the wall?” Frederic asked. “How do we cross the moat?”

  Duncan’s hand shot up in the air again. “I know! I know! A boat!”

  “Duncan,” Frederic said. “Even if the dwarfs dig us a tunnel under the wall, it’s not like we can just squeeze a boat through with us.”

  “Why not?” Liam said. “We don’t need a big boat. Sometimes the simplest solution is best.”

  “And once we’re across the moat, we can scale to the roof of the castle with some of Ruffian’s grappling hooks!” Ella added, slamming her fists against table.

  Briar banged her gavel. “Hey, only I get to pound on things for emphasis.”

  “Okay, people,” Liam said. He was slightly more at ease, his shoulders no longer at stiff right angles. “So at this point in the plan, we’ve made it to the top of Rauber’s castle. Next we need to trigger the switch to open the vault, but none of us can fit down the Snake Hole to reach it. Ella, I bet you can guess how we solve that little problem.”

  “Um, let me think. . . .”

  “Come on, Ella,” Liam urged, counting on her to come up with an idea. “There must be some . . . tiny idea nagging at the back of your mind, right? Even an itty-bitty inkling of a thought . . .”

  “You’re hinting at that gnome I met last summer, aren’t you?” Ella asked in a burst of enlightenment. “The one I rescued from those imps? He said if I ever needed help for anything, I should call on him.”

  “You’re perfect!” Liam exclaimed. “I mean, you’re perfectly correct.” He hoped he wasn’t blushing too noticeably. “Your gnome friend will easily fit down the Snake Hole.”

  “If he agrees to do it,” Frederic added sharply. “You realize there are a whole lot of assumptions in this plan, right? Have you considered the many ways it could go wrong?” Or are you just showing off for Ella? he thought.

  Liam clenched his jaw. He locked eyes with Frederic and said, “The plan will work. Stop questioning it.”

  “But what about the fact that we’ll be on the roof when the vault is several stories belowground?” Frederic asked.

  “I will be down on the dungeon level with the vault, waiting for it to open,” Liam answered in a semigrowl.

  “And how in the world do you expect to get into the Bandit King’s dungeon?” Frederic asked.

  “Hire someone to pretend he’s a criminal!” Liam slapped his hand over his mouth, but it was too late—the words had already escaped his lips. That’s it, he thought. Now they’re all going to know that I’ve lost it.

  But instead, he heard nothing but wild enthusiasm.

  “Liam, you’re brilliant!” Ella exclaimed. “We’ll hire an inside man—someone who’s working for us but whom Rauber believes is on his side.”

  “That’s right,” Liam said with a weak smile. He’d just volunteered to be captured by his archenemy. And it was all because Frederic had to question everything; he couldn’t just stand by and nod like a good number two. Liam took a deep breath. “The inside man can pretend to deliver me to the Bandit King for a reward,” he said. “And then he’ll free me once the vault is open.”

  “If anyone can pull that off, I know you can,” Ella said.

  And the way she stared at Liam was just a bit too moony-eyed for Frederic to take. “I’m going in the dungeon, too!” he blurted.

  All heads turned to him. Frederic already regretted his outburst but was too embarrassed to take it back. “We can’t leave that crucial step to just one person,” he said. “There should be at least two of us in the dungeon. And . . . I volunteer.”

  “I suppose backup is a good idea,” Liam said. “But maybe it should be Gustav.”

  “Nah,” Gustav said. “I really want to fight that snake.”

  “A minute ago you asked me for my trust, Liam. Don’t I deserve the same from you?” Frederic asked. “I risked my life for you, trying to save you from marrying Briar.”

  “And that worked out really well, didn’t it?” Liam muttered.

  “Ahem! I’m in the room,” Briar said.

  “Fine,” Liam said grudgingly. “But, Frederic, you have to be ready to hold your own in there. I can’t babysit you.”

  “I haven’t needed a babysitter since I was sixteen,” Frederic said defiantly.

  “You don’t have to do this, Frederic,” Ella said, laying her hand on his arm.

  “I know,” Frederic sighed. “But I will.”

  “I just hope you guys find an inside man you can trust,” Ella said.

  “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll probably just go to the Stumpy Boarhound and interview random thugs and hoodlums for the job,” Frederic said sarcastically.

  Liam’s eyes lit up. “Yes! That’s what we’ll do,” he said. “The League has fans at that tavern. We’ll be sure to find an eager accomplice.”

  “But wait,” Frederic sputtered. “I was only . . .”

  “What, Frederic?” Liam asked. “You were only what?”

  “It’s just that, well, the Stumpy Boarhound is in Flargstagg,” Frederic said. “Is that really the safest town to visit right now? With the Gray Phantom terrorizing the place?”

  “Frederic, the only reason you’ve even heard of the Gray Phantom is because of those recent bard songs,” Liam said. “And you know how accurate the bards are. The Phantom’s probably not as bad as they make him sound. He might not even exist. It’s not a concern. The only remaining question is: When do we attack?”

  “I know!” a voice called out. Everybody turned to see a curly-haired girl in a fraying gown climb in through the window.

  “Lila!” Liam shouted. “What in the world are you doing here?”

  “Spying,” she said. “Do you have any idea how boring it is at home?”

  “That’s a second-story window,” Liam went on. “How did you—?”

  Briar stood, rushed over to the window, leaned out, and hollered, “A little girl just broke into my War Room! Anybody who can hear me right now is fired! Banish yourselves!” (Eight Avondellian soldiers dropped their weapons, lowered their heads, and began a long, slow shuffle out of the kingdom.)

  “Liam, look at this!” Lila shoved a scroll of paper into his hand. “It’s a schedule. I snagged it out of one of the circus wagons after the wedding.”

  “The Flimsham Brothers are going to be performing for the king of Rauberia at four o’clock on the day of the summer solstice,” Liam said as he scanned the paper.

  “That is when you should stage the heist,” Lila said excitedly. “During the circus. Rauber and most of his men will probably be watching the show, so there’ll be a lot fewer bandits wandering around the castle.”

  “My sister is right,” Liam said. “We attack during the circus.” He turned back to Lila. “Now go home.”

  “But—” Lila began to object.

  “Go home,” he repeated.

  Lila hopped back out the window and slid down a rain gutter to the ground below.

  “Briar, what are you doing?” Liam asked. His wife was running her fin
ger down the pages of a small datebook.

  “Checking the calendar,” she said. “We’ve got a big royal ball coming up, two days before the solstice. I would have liked to have had the sword for the ball, but, oh well . . . Okay. I approve of this circus idea.”

  “Ugh, the Flimshams again,” Frederic muttered. “Maybe it’s a good thing I’ll be locked away in Rauber’s dungeon at the time.”

  “So, the solstice, huh? That means we have about six days to prepare, right?” Ella asked.

  “Six days!” Gustav wailed. “I don’t want to wait that long before I get to fight somebody!”

  “Six days will barely give us enough time to recruit the allies we need for this mission, let alone train for it,” Liam said. He took a moment to look each of his teammates in the eye. “But we have a solid plan. And we’ve dealt with Rauber’s men before; they’re not very formidable. He may have the numbers, but we have the heart—”

  He was interrupted by the pounding of Briar’s gavel. “No cheesy pep talks,” she ordered.

  Gustav leaned over to Frederic and whispered, “First chance I get, I’m going to grab that little hammer of hers and shove—”

  Briar slammed the gavel even harder. “No whispering!”

  Frederic massaged his temples. “This is going to be a long week.”

  “Briar, I’d like for us to get started first thing in the morning,” Liam said. “And I think it’s best if my teammates are able to get a good night’s sleep beforehand. Would you agree to let them stay—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Briar said. “I’ll have the servants make up guest rooms for all of you. Servants!” She paused, waiting for a footman to appear at the door, but no one came. “Oh, that’s right. I just banished them. Be right back.” Grumbling, she got up and stepped out into the hallway.

  “Oh, thank goodness we get real beds tonight,” Frederic said. “I swear, some of the stains on that cot moved.”

  The moment Briar was out of earshot, Liam interrupted Frederic. “It’s not just about the sword,” he said quickly. “She’s plotting to taking over the world.”