“That’s unfortunate,” Ella said. “But at least we got the gnome.” The gnome, who had been clinging to Ella’s back, jumped down and waved.
“Hello, strangers!” he cried. “This is already so wonderful! I love fire!”
“Ella? Frederic?” Liam called out as he, Gustav, and Mr. Troll stepped from the trees. The troll burped out a small cloud of dandelion fluff.
“Monster!” the gnome screamed. He scrambled away with far more speed than his short legs should have allowed, tearing through the underbrush and leaving a trail of floating leaves in his wake.
“Wait!” Ella shouted. “Come back . . . you!” But the gnome’s shrieks had already vanished into the distant woods.
“What was that?” Liam asked.
“That was our way down the Snake Hole,” Ella said.
“He gone?” asked Mr. Troll. “That shame. Troll love gnomes.”
It was a new moon and too dark to travel, so most of the team members retired for the night. Briar was resting comfortably amid a dozen down pillows inside the robin’s-egg-blue tent that she made Liam set up for her. Duncan and Snow were curled together on a blanket, while Frederic was wrapped in a blanket of his own—enviously eyeing Briar’s tent—and Gustav sprawled flat on the dirt. Mr. Troll, nestled into a pile of thistles, snored nearby. Liam, however, was pacing around the still-smoldering fire, wringing his cape.
“Can’t sleep?” Ella asked as she swept up loose ashes with a small broom she had just constructed out of twigs and grass. “Me neither. I’m too keyed up. I wish we could just do this thing tomorrow.”
“I’m in no rush,” he answered. “There’s a ticking clock here. The circus is hitting Rauber’s castle in five days. How are we going to find replacements for the allies we failed to recruit today?”
Frederic tossed his blanket aside and crept over to them. “Plus we need to figure out why You-Know-Who wants the you-know-what.”
“Shhhh!” Liam warned. “She might not be asleep.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Frederic whispered. “But we should be focused on solving that mystery, right?”
“Knowing what the sword does isn’t going to matter much if we can’t reach it,” Liam said. “So filling in the holes in our plan has to take top priority.”
“Actually,” Frederic said, sitting on a tree stump, “I’ve been thinking about another person we might want to have on the team.”
“For the tunneling part or the Snake Hole part?” Liam asked.
“Well, neither, but—”
“Then no, Frederic,” Liam said, cutting him off. “This plan is too complicated as it is; we can’t start adding new elements.”
“Don’t you even want to hear who I’m talking about?”
“Unless that person is a speedy digger or a skinny spelunker, it doesn’t matter.”
“Liam, you’re not being—Gahh!”
Frederic yelped and leapt into Ella’s arms as, without warning, a person fell from the branches of the tree he was standing under.
“Crud,” grumbled the figure on the ground.
“Lila?” Liam asked in disbelief. “Where did you come from?”
“The tree,” Lila said. “I thought that was pretty obvious.” She stood up, wincing and holding her elbow. “I was hoping to make a smoother entrance than that.”
“How long have you been following us?” Liam asked sternly.
“Since Avondell,” Lila said. “I never went back to Erinthia.”
“What?” Liam was aghast. “Why in the world would you do such a thing?”
“I’ve been away from home for half a week now. Have Mom and Dad sent anybody to look for me? No. I think that should be all the why you need,” Lila said. “Let me come on the mission with you. I have no purpose at home. I want to be useful.”
Liam gave an incredulous laugh. “I can’t believe this.”
“I’m very good at what I do,” Lila said.
“What you do?” Liam gaped. “You’re a child! What you do is hopscotch and math homework. We’re talking about a secret mission to break into the vault of the Bandit King. It’s not kid stuff.”
“Um, isn’t the bad guy like ten?”
“I believe, based on the intelligence we’ve gathered, that’s he is now eleven,” Liam said.
“So? I’m still older,” Lila said. “Please. I can do this.” She clasped her brother’s hand. “You can’t send me back home to a life of eyebrow tweezings and impossibly tight gowns and not speaking until I’m spoken to. If I end up locked in the Bandit King’s dungeon, it’ll be a step up—believe me.”
Liam was stewing.
“And besides,” Lila added, “I can fit in the Snake Hole.”
Liam froze with his mouth open and one finger up in the air.
“She’s right, you know,” Ella said, considering Lila. “I’ll keep an eye out for her. I promise.”
“She’s my baby sister,” Liam said. “How can I agree to this?”
“Look,” Lila said. “If I can impress you right now, will you let me on the team?”
“It’ll take a lot,” Liam said.
“Hey, Ruff!” Lila called out. “I spotted you hours ago. Why don’t you come out and show yourself?”
Liam, Ella, and Frederic all gaped as Ruffian the Blue stepped into the firelight from behind a tree. He grimaced at Lila from under his dark hood.
“For the record,” the bounty hunter droned, “I saw you, too.”
“Welcome to the team, sis,” Liam said. Then, as Lila danced over to Ella, he turned to lash out at Ruffian. “And you! I don’t appreciate being spied on! We’ve been fully cooperating with Briar, and we expect to be treated accordingly.”
“I travel with Briar as a bodyguard, nothing more,” Ruffian said. He was barely paying attention to Liam, his attention focused on a nearby cluster of trees. “I hide because it is the princess’s preference that I stay out of sight. She finds my goatee unsightly.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s all it is,” Liam said, his jaw tight. “Although I can believe the bit about the goatee.” He turned and snarled at Briar’s tent. “Well, when ‘Sleeping Beauty’ wakes up, you can tell her that my team and I need a little privacy or this arrangement isn’t going to work.”
But Ruffian had already vanished.
“Hey, keep it down,” Gustav groaned from his place on the ground, opening one eye to glare at the group by the fire. “Oh, hi, kid.”
“I’m going down the Snake Hole,” Lila said perkily.
“Aces,” Gustav replied. And he was snoring again a second later.
THE TEAM
1. Liam
2. Frederic
3. Gustav
4. Duncan
5. Ella
6. Dwarfs ? (for digging)
7. Troll (for distraction)
8. Gnome Lila (for hole)
9. Inside Man (?)
10. Snow White (for ?)
11
A HERO IS GROSSED OUT BY STICKY FLOORS
Sometimes a hero can be found in the most unexpected of places. That’s when you must say to him, “Get out of my kitchen, silly! Don’t you have some monsters to fight?”
—THE HERO’S GUIDE TO BEING A HERO
The next morning, while Briar applied her complicated daily regimen of face creams and Ruffian trekked off, reluctantly, to fetch her some fresh spring water, Liam took the opportunity for a private huddle with his team.
“It’s time to head back to Avondell,” he said. “We’ve got four days. You need to figure out what JJDG means. Do whatever you need to in order to get answers, but don’t be obvious about it.”
“Why are you speaking as if you won’t be there?” Frederic asked.
“Because I’ll meet you back in Avondell in two days. Right now, I’m going straight to Flargstagg,” he said. “I’ve got to get to the Stumpy Boarhound to find our inside man. And I want Ella to join me as backup.”
“Love that place,” Ella whispered excitedly.
> Frederic blinked fiercely. “Wait,” he said. “I’m coming, too. If we’re choosing the man who will have my life in his hands, I think I should be there.”
“Frederic, I really hoped you’d be leading up the investigation back in Avondell,” Liam said.
Frederic hesitated. Liam sounded sincere. But he couldn’t be sure. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I need to be between you and Ella—with you and Ella. And besides, I can help brainstorm new ideas for getting past Rauber’s big wall.”
“Don’t worry,” Gustav said. “I’ll take care of business back at the Golden Palace. You guys haven’t even seen my detective skills yet. If Miss Prissy Britches is hiding something, I’ll get it out of her.”
There was probably nothing Gustav could have said that would have worried Liam more. “You understand that we need to handle this subtly, right?” Liam asked. “We cannot afford to have Briar figure out that we’re on to her scheme.”
“I know what subtly means,” Gustav said.
“And don’t worry, Liam,” Duncan added. “I’m far more likely to give away our secrets than Gustav is. Ruby!” He pointed at a hummingbird that darted by.
Liam flipped his cape over his head and walked away.
The Stumpy Boarhound was, for the most part, just as Frederic remembered it. Despite the BIRTHPLACE OF THE LEAGUE OF PRINCES sign over the bar and the roped-off Official League Founding Table in a back corner, the tavern still made him feel uncomfortably out of place. Perhaps it was the various dead-animal-part trophies (reindeer antlers, warthog tusks, hippogriff wings, and the like) that cluttered every wall. Perhaps it was the long and sometimes dark-stained gashes that marred every surface—the obvious results of poorly aimed sword and ax swings. Or maybe it was the Boarhound’s clientele: filthy, ill-mannered pirates, assassins, and thieves who, despite being huge League of Princes fans, were still filthy, ill-mannered pirates, assassins, and thieves. In fact, several of the customers were in the process of robbing one another when Frederic, Liam, and Ella entered.
“Well, I’ll be soaked in porcupine oil,” the crooked-nosed, stubbly-faced bartender shouted when he saw them. “If it ain’t a couple o’ our very own Prince Charmings come back for a visit! Oh, and Miss Cinderella, too!”
The criminals in the tavern took a break from stealing, gambling, and pummeling in order to gawk at the celebrities.
“Good day, Mr. Ripsnard,” Frederic said with a polite nod.
“Ooh, he remembers my name,” the bartender tittered. “I’m honored, I am. Let me get the Founding Table set for you.” He sat them down and gave their table a halfhearted wipe-down with his filthy rag. Ella resisted the urge to snatch the rag away and clean it herself.
“Can I get you fellers any snacks?” Ripsnard asked. “Snake knuckles? Varmint nuggets? Perhaps a couple bowls o’ meat stew?”
“What kind of meat?” Ella asked.
“Animal meat,” Ripsnard answered. “At least, I’m pretty sure it’s animal.”
“Maybe just a few glasses of water,” Frederic said.
“Coming right up!”
Ella glanced around the room at the various items that were on display to honor the League: Frederic’s old mud-caked jacket, the charred remnants of Liam’s original cape, a napkin on which Duncan had doodled a picture of himself riding a dolphin. “Wow,” she said. “They really like you guys here. It’s even more done up than it was the last time we stopped in.”
“Yes,” said Frederic. “Although I think they’re pushing it a bit far with some of this so-called memorabilia. I’m pretty sure the ‘Authentic Gustav Hair’ over there is actually a piece of spaghetti.”
Ripsnard reappeared and plopped three grimy mugs on the table. Each was filled with a thick and malodorous brown-green liquid.
“I’m sorry,” Frederic said. “We just wanted water.”
“Yeah,” said Ripsnard. “We don’t have any o’ that.” And he left.
Ella took a sniff of her drink, and her eyes immediately began to tear up. She pushed the mug off to the side and pointed to a Wanted poster hanging on the wall behind their table. “I can’t believe we’re actually here and we’re not going after the Gray Phantom,” she said. “Did you notice how deserted the streets were? The people of Flargstagg must be terrified of this guy.”
Frederic studied the sketch of the mysterious criminal whose face was hidden by a creepy demon-face mask, complete with white, triangular fangs embroidered on it. “‘Wanted for assault, theft, destruction of property, murder most foul, murder slightly less foul, and unlawful de-kidneying,’” Frederic read. “He actually sounds worse than the bard songs made him out to be.”
“We need to get down to business,” Liam said. “It’s a long ride back to Avondell from here, but I’d like us to make it before nightfall. I’m still a bit worried about Gustav’s idea of a ‘subtle’ investigation.”
“Well, let’s start then,” Ella said.
“Okay, since we want the most skillful accomplice we can find,” Liam said, “I think we start by asking around. Seeing who has the best reputation.”
“Do you think that will work?” Frederic asked. “I doubt these people will have much nice to say about one another. I’m thinking we sit back and watch them for a while, see if anybody stands out as looking particularly trustworthy.”
Ella stood up, stepped in front of the princes, and loudly announced, “Anybody who wants to work for the League of Princes, get in line!” The thugs and hoodlums practically ran over one another in their haste to queue up by the Founding Table.
“Or we could just do what she did,” Frederic said sheepishly.
The first in line was a bearded pirate who was missing a couple of key teeth. Frederic and Liam remembered him from their first visit to the Stumpy Boarhound when he’d tried to rob them both. He was also one of the few people to have preordered Duncan’s book.
“Cap’n Gabberman at yer service,” the pirate said in a gruff but friendly-sounding voice. “Whatever the task is that ye be needing done, Cap’n Gabberman can get it done for ye. I do sea. I do land. I don’t do air so much, but it’s not entirely out of the question. Do ye need some flying? If that’s what ye need, I can make it happen. I’m a go-with-the-flow sort of pirate.”
Fig. 17
Cap’n GABBERMAN
“Captain Gabberman,” Frederic began.
“Please, call me Cap’n,” the buccaneer replied.
“Captain,” Frederic said.
“Cap’n,” the pirate repeated.
“Cap . . . tain,” Frederic tried.
“Cap’n.”
“Cah.” Long, deep breath. “Puhn.”
“Cap’n.”
“I’m sorry,” said Frederic. “My mouth just doesn’t work that way.”
“Cap’n Gabberman,” Liam said. “I’m not sure this is the right job for you. But if we’re ever in need of a fast ship, we will definitely come calling.”
“Aye,” the captain said. “Ye do that now. If ye be in need of some seafaring, ye know where to find me. Me and my . . . fast ship.” He gave a gracious nod and walked away, mumbling, “Note to self: Get a ship.”
A bare-bellied barbarian strode up to take the captain’s place. His hefty gut, which drooped over his thick rawhide belt, had more hair on it than his balding head. He folded his beefy arms, raised an eyebrow, and bellowed, “Do you need clubbing? ’Cause that’s my specialty. Anything or anybody you need clubbed, I’ll club it.”
Liam was about to give him a speedy “No, thank you,” but Ella jumped in. “Where’s your club?” she asked.
Fig. 18
TWO-CLUBS
“I got two clubs,” the barbarian said, raising his ham-size fists. “Here and here. That’s why they call me Two-Clubs.”
“Seriously?” Ella asked. “That’s all you’ve got? Fists? You never use a weapon?”
“Don’t need to,” Two-Clubs said.
“Ella,” Frederic said in a hushed tone, “we don’t want
to provoke these people.”
“He’s right,” Liam agreed.
Ella ignored them. She never got to be around shady types like the customers at the Stumpy Boarhound. And whenever anything sparked her curiosity, she wanted to see more of it. “Show me how you use those things,” she said to the barbarian.
The barbarian turned and, without warning, slammed his fist over the head of the thief who was standing behind him in line. The thief made a guttural noise like he had a hedgehog caught in his throat and crumpled to the floor.
Frederic jumped backward a few inches.
“Whoa,” Ella said. “That was a bit more graphic of a demonstration than I expected. But impressive.” She leaned over to Liam. “You sure we can’t use him for something? Maybe if Briar gets too—”
“Maybe next time, Mr. Clubs,” Frederic said.
The barbarian clomped off, and a tall, monstrously ugly half-ogre thug stepped over the unconscious thief to approach the table.
“Daggomire Hardrot,” the half ogre introduced himself. He pointed to Liam. “We met previously when I was punching the back of your head.”
Fig. 19
Daggomire HARDROT
“I remember,” Liam said flatly. “What kind of skills do you have, Hardrot?”
“Skills?” the half ogre asked, his mouth crinkling into a frown. “Nobody said we’d need skills.” And he sadly walked away.
“This is going to take a while, isn’t it?” Frederic asked.
“No, it’s not,” Ella said. She slammed her palm on the table, causing drops of the murky nonwater to fly from everybody’s mugs. “Most of you guys aren’t even worth our time!” she shouted to the crowd (and both Liam and Frederic sank a few inches deeper into their seats). “So let’s narrow it down: Last man standing gets to talk to us!”
It took three seconds for the tavern to devolve into total chaos. Robbers, pirates, and assassins throttled one another. A chunky thief crashed through a table, sending broken glass and critter bits flying, while Two-Clubs flattened a pair of twin assassins. An enormous bounty hunter picked up a scrawny pickpocket and threw him into a display case of Things Found on Prince Charming’s Shoe. Cap’n Gabberman slapped a burglar across the face with a flounder.