The Hero's Guide to Being an Outlaw

  With a grunt of frustration, Bailywimple plopped his palm onto Snow’s forehead and began trying to shove her head back between the bars. Snow winced.

  “Don’t touch her,” Ella said coldly as she reached out and clamped her own hand around the captain’s wrist. Across the hall, Rapunzel hid her face, while Val’s eyes lit up in amazement.

  Bailywimple turned his head slowly to look Ella in the eye. “Remove your hand at once,” he said, barely above a whisper.

  “You remove yours,” Ella replied, without so much as a blink.

  “It’s okay,” said Snow, wiggling her head back into the cell. “See, I’m free.”

  But Ella continued to stare icily at the officer and kept a firm grip on him.

  “Let go,” Bailywimple said. “Or you will pay the consequences.”

  “What are you going to do?” Ella asked. “Put me in more jail?”

  “Release me,” Bailywimple said through clenched teeth. “Or so help me, you’ll spend a week in the Chiller.”

  Ella let him go—but not before making him slap himself in the face.

  “The Chiller it is,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry,” Snow said to Ella as Bailywimple stomped down the hall screaming for more guards. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

  “You didn’t; I did it on purpose,” Ella whispered to her. “I’ve got to find us an escape route, and this may be my best shot at scoping one out.”

  Bailywimple charged back down the corridor with two guards in tow. They unlocked Ella’s cell and pulled her out.

  “See you in a week,” she said cheerily as the guards marched her away. Bailywimple sneered at the other prisoners and followed.

  “Well, that was exciting,” said Val.

  Rapunzel began pacing rapidly. “How did I get myself into this?” she muttered. “Where did I go wrong? I was a humanitarian. A healer! I had a nice place in a woods, a few tiny blue friends, plenty of turnips. What was so wrong with that? Nothing! It was great! I was doing great! But could I leave well enough alone? Oh, no! I had to say, Wait, Frederic! I’ll come storm a bandit’s castle with you! I’ll get involved with the kind of people who . . . who . . . wear capes! And tick off bounty hunters! And slap prison guards! I mean, why not? That sounds like me, right? Did I lose my mind?”

  “I’m gonna go with yes,” Val said, eyeing her cautiously.

  As soon as Snow was sure that no one was listening, she told them what Ella had whispered to her. Rapunzel sat down on her threadbare cot and rested her head in her hands. “I suppose I should be heartened by that,” she said. “But I’m not. We’re on Death Row, Snow. With no chance of proving our innocence. And the only one of us who has any real heroing experience just got hauled off to some mysterious torture chamber. It’s hard not to feel the weight hanging over my head.”

  “That’s just your hair,” Snow replied. She plopped herself cross-legged on the floor. “Look, it’s like Frank the dwarf always says: When life gives you lemons, throw them at Duncan. By which I believe he means: When you’re in a bad spot, trust in your friends to help you out.”

  “I don’t think that’s what he means,” Rapunzel said. “But I don’t think we have a choice in the matter either. We have to wait to see what happens when Ella comes back. If she comes back.”

  22

  AN OUTLAW DOESN’T KNOW WHAT KIND OF BIRD SHE IS

  Ella did not come back. At least, not when she was supposed to. That long, stressful week of waiting turned into an even longer, more stressful month of despair for Rapunzel and Snow. By their fifth week of imprisonment, it seemed they’d given up hope. They must have, because they resorted to an activity that people only engage in when they know with certainty that they will be trapped someplace for a long, long time: They played Twenty Questions.

  “Are you an animal?” Val asked, sitting on the floor, chewing a piece of straw.

  “Yes,” said Rapunzel, flopped on her cot. “Sixteen left.”

  “Are you a kind of bird?” Val asked.

  “Yes. Fifteen.”

  “Ooh!” yipped Snow, bouncing on the small “chair” she’d managed to weave together using loose straw gathered from her cell floor. “Are you Mimpy?”

  “Snow,” Rapunzel said gently, “I keep telling you—I don’t know the names of the animals that wander through your backyard.”

  “Mimpy is a duck,” Snow said helpfully.

  “I am not . . . Mimpy,” Rapunzel said. “Fourteen.”

  “Could I crush you with one hand?” Val asked.

  Rapunzel cringed. “Is there anything less . . . disturbing you could ask?”

  “I’m just trying to narrow it down,” Val said. “There are some birds I could crush with one hand and others I’d need two hands for.”

  “I suppose so,” Rapunzel said. “But, I mean . . . couldn’t you ask, ‘Are you bigger than my hand?’ That wouldn’t have worked?”

  “There are birds that are bigger than my hand that I could still crush with one hand,” Val said.

  Rapunzel buried her face in her pillow. She looked up again when she heard footsteps coming down the corridor. “Ella! Thank goodness!” She jumped up and ran to the bars, as did Val. A guard tossed Ella into the cell with Snow and tromped back off the way he’d come.

  “Are you okay?” Rapunzel sputtered.

  “What was it like?” Val burst.

  “I made a straw chair,” Snow said proudly.

  “Whoa, one at a time, people,” Ella said, holding up her hands. “Rapunzel, no worries—I’m doing pretty great. Val, the Chiller isn’t half as bad as you think. And Snow, that’s . . . pretty impressive, actually.”

  “Why were you gone so long?” Rapunzel asked.

  “I made the mistake of calling Bailywimple’s ascot a tie.” Ella rolled her eyes at the memory. “Sorry if I scared you ladies. But, listen. The Chiller is way up at the tippy-top of the palace’s highest tower. Inside, though, it’s not much different from the cells down here. Except the art is way worse.”

  “Worse than this?” Val asked, pointing at a framed paint-by-number of frolicking saucer-eyed babies that read I WUV OO.

  Ella nodded and Val shuddered. “But on the whole, the Chiller is . . . nothing,” Ella continued. “I think they call it the Chiller because it’s drafty.”

  “Well, sleeping in a draft is bad for you,” Rapunzel said.

  “Granted,” Ella replied. “But here’s the thing: It’s drafty because there’s a window. An open window!”

  “You mean no bars or nothing?” Val asked. Everyone perked up.

  “Nope,” Ella said. “My guess is they figure they don’t need bars because it’s so high up. There’s at least a sixty-foot drop to the palace roof. And then another three stories to the ground after that.”

  “Oh, so you didn’t find an escape route,” Rapunzel said, her face falling.

  “No, I did,” Ella snapped. “I’m convinced the Chiller is our way out. We just don’t know how to use it yet. There’s still, what . . . nearly a month left for us figure it out?”

  “Hush up,” Val warned. “We’ve got visitors.”

  Footsteps echoed down the hall, and soon the frowning face of Captain Bailywimple appeared around the corner. He was shoving along a new prisoner, whose hands were bound behind her back—a young girl with a big pouf of curly hair tied at the back her head.

  “Lila!” Ella shouted, both furious and worried.

  “Ella!” Lila called. She tried to run ahead, but Bailywimple yanked her back.

  “Not so fast, brat,” he hissed. “You won’t get away from me again.”

  “Please, Mr. Captain of the Guard,” Lila begged.

  “His name is Captain Eucalyptus Bellybutton,” Snow said helpfully.

  “I’ve been telling you,” Lila continued, “I wasn’t trying to escape. I was trying to get to the king.”

  “Yes,” Bailywimple sneered. “And thank heavens I was able to foil your assassination plot.”
>
  “I don’t want to hurt the king,” Lila insisted. “I just need to speak to him. It’s urgent! I promise. You can keep me tied up. I just need to talk to him.”

  “Come on,” Ella urged. “Hear her out, Bailywimple.”

  The officer’s waxy complexion turned a fiery red. “What could this urchin possibly say that would be of any interest to King Basil?”

  “How about that his daughter is alive!” The corridor was suddenly filled with the sounds of gasps and rattling metal as all the prisoners gripped the bars of their cell doors. “And I also need to warn him that his kingdom is in danger,” Lila continued. “The Darians have the Jade Djinn Gem, and they’ve already used it to take over Erinthia. Yondale, too. Sorry, Snow, they’ve got your dad. Ruffian and I found them there and . . . Anyway, it’s only a matter of time before they reach Avondell.”

  The prisoners couldn’t believe what they were hearing, but they trusted Lila. Not so for Bailywimple. “You have quite an imagination, child,” he scoffed as he unlocked a cell door and nudged her in with Rapunzel and Val.

  “What if it’s true?” Ella said. “Think of the mistake you’d be making.”

  Bailywimple raised his chin. “In the history of the Avondellian Royal Guard, no man has received more honors than I. Every medal, plaque, and statuette handed out by His Majesty in the past ten years has ended up in my personal trophy case. To put it plainly, I don’t make mistakes.”

  “You don’t need to tell us how dedicated you are to this kingdom, Captain Euphustus Bailywimple,” Ella said, recalling the diplomacy she’d used long ago to escape when she was held hostage by a giant. “But everybody makes a mistake sometime. And if this were your first, it would be a doozy. Think of what the consequences would be for His Majesty, the Most Right and Honorable King Basil the First, long may he reign.”

  Bailywimple paused. He furrowed his neon-yellow brow as he mulled over his options. He took a deep breath, but before he could utter a word, Lila jumped in.

  “Fine, keep being a loser, Bailypimple!” she barked furiously. “We’ll see how smug and self-righteous you are when the Darians come trampling over all your fancy-pantsed army guys! Hope they don’t muss up your spiffy little neck-bow!”

  “It’s an ascot,” Bailywimple huffed. “To think I almost gave credence to the tall tales of a known murderer.” He marched away.

  “The kid’s got spunk,” Val said.

  But Ella threw her head back in frustration. “Lila, why? He was so close . . .”

  “I’m sorry,” Lila said. She plopped onto a cot and put her head in her hands. A tear ran down her cheek. “I’m messing everything up lately. Liam gave me one stupid task—one! And Greenfang caught me so easily. He’s a jerk, but he’s right—I’m a princess, not a bounty hunter. It was probably my fault that Ruff . . .” She looked up at Rapunzel. “Remember when that giant snake guy bit Briar? Do you think she would’ve survived if you hadn’t healed her?”

  “I don’t know,” Rapunzel replied, gently stroking the younger girl’s hair. “Is that what happened to Ruffian?”

  Lila nodded. “I never should’ve left him.”

  “Lila, I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Ella said. “I didn’t realize . . .”

  “You’ve got to go easier on yourself,” Rapunzel said. “You’re only thirteen.”

  “Thirteen?” Val blurted. “Aw, jeez. So, in addition to giant snakes and Darians, you’re also battling the worst enemy of all—puberty!”

  Lila chuckled. “Thanks, um . . . whoever you are.”

  “I’m Val. I beat twelve people with a baguette.”

  “Sweet,” Lila said.

  Just then, foosteps. The fluorescent-lemon head of Captain Bailywimple reappeared from down the hall. “The young lady has an audience with His Majesty,” he said, his voice clipped and tight.

  Ella jumped up. “Great. Let’s go.”

  “Just the young princess,” Bailywimple said as he unlocked Lila’s cell.

  “You told them about Briar and the Darians?” Lila asked as she stepped out.

  Bailywimple gave her a scornful look. “You are a fool if you think I would risk wasting my king’s time with the obviously imaginary fantasies of an imprisoned hooligan,” he said snidely. “You can tell your tall tales yourself—and you can suffer whatever consequences come of doing so.”

  “Thank you all the same,” she said. “I knew you would come around.”

  The Captain of the Guard gave a haughty snort and led Lila down the hall. He would never admit it, but Ella was right. Bailywimple was a dutiful servant of the crown; the possibility that he could harm his kingdom by withholding information was too much for him to bear. But if it turns out that these women have made a fool of me, he thought, they will regret ever stepping foot on Avondellian soil.

  23

  AN OUTLAW TALKS ALL PROPER-LIKE

  Have your parents ever dragged you into one of those stores that sell very tiny, super-expensive knickknacks? Stuff like swan-shaped porcelain pepper shakers, and miniature saucers painted with the faces of famous people you don’t recognize? You’re not sure exactly why any of these things are so valuable, but all you can think about is how much trouble you’d be in if you accidentally broke one of them? That’s how Lila felt when she stepped into the throne room of King Basil and Queen Petunia. She’d been in Briar’s throne room before—which was plenty fancy itself—but it paled in comparison to the royal couple’s reception chamber.

  Between the crystal vases that lined her path, the tinted glass mobiles that dangled from the arched ceiling, and the bejeweled masks that adorned the walls, Lila was afraid to even hiccup. She looked down as she walked, hoping that her dirt-caked feet weren’t leaving stains on the painstakingly hand-stitched carpet beneath her. When she heard Bailywimple clear his throat behind her, she looked up.

  King Basil, clean shaven and clad in a neatly tailored royal-blue suit, looked younger than his years. Auburn hair rolled in waves down to his shoulders from under a glistening platinum crown. His face, however, was hard to read—neither menacing or friendly. The queen was noticeably absent; but Reynaldo, the bard, sat at the king’s side on a plush velvet stool, his floppy, oversize cap surrounding his wavy-haired head like a halo. He strummed his lute lazily, barely paying attention to the young princess as she entered.

  Lila wasn’t sure if she was supposed to start talking, but King Basil solved that riddle for her. “Ah, my ex-son-in-law’s sister,” he said flatly. “If you have news, speak. My time is valuable.”

  “Well,” she started, “the, um, good news, Your Highness, is that your daughter is alive! But the bad news . . .” From there the words just spilled out. She filled them in on every detail of the League’s adventure thus far, both the bits she’d experienced firsthand and the parts she’d learned about from her fellow heroes. The king, the bard, and Bailywimple seemed to hang on every word. Out of breath, she finished: “So, you need to bulk up Avondell’s defenses immediately. Tell that General Kuffin guy to get his catapults ready. And if I were you—”

  “You most certainly are not me,” Basil said sharply. “If you were me, you would not be foolish enough to try to fool the King of Avondell. Who is me. Although, in this scenario, you are me. So you’d be the king, trying to fool yourself. Which is doubly foolish.”

  “Sir?” Lila didn’t know where this was going, but it didn’t sound good.

  “What I am saying is: no more fibs!” Basil turned to the bard. “Reynaldo, my most talented friend, compose us a new tune: ‘The Tragedy of Lila the Liar.’”

  The bard flicked his long hair, smoothed out his mustache, and began singing:

  “Listen, dear hearts, to a tale most improper—

  A prissy young princess who told a big whopper.

  The great, wise King Basil she thought she could trick,

  But her skills of deception, they proved not so slick.”

  Lila’s survival instinct clicked in. She stomped on Bailywimple’s foot a
nd ran.

  “Gah! Stop her!” the Captain of the Guard cried out. And Lila quickly found two brawny pin-striped figures blocking her path.

  “Crud,” she muttered as Bailywimple limped over and grabbed her arm.

  “Foolish child,” he said under his breath. “Or should I say, foolish me. I should have known better.”

  “Captain Bailywimple, I understand how badly you miss our poor Briar Rose, so I can forgive you for being manipulated by the treachery of these prisoners,” King Basil said. “However, we can’t afford to have them spreading false hope among the citizens of our good kingdom. We have no choice but to move up the execution. Prepare the gallows for tomorrow morning.”

  Lila sputtered, but couldn’t think of another word to say as Bailywimple dragged her from the throne room.

  24

  AN OUTLAW NEEDS A GOOD STYLIST

  “Tomorrow?” Snow yelped in horror. “There’s no way I’ll finish weaving this throw pillow by then!”

  Lila was back in her cell and had just tearfully broken the news to the others. “I’m so sorry, guys,” she said. “I should’ve left well enough alone.”

  “I’m gonna miss you, roomie,” Val said to Rapunzel. “I never even got to find out what kind of bird you were.”

  “They’re going to hang us,” Rapunzel muttered as she paced frantically. “I don’t even like to hang laundry. The poor clothes look so helpless up there.”

  “People!” Ella barked. “No one is getting hanged. The only thing that has changed is our time frame. We make our escape today.”

  “As opposed to tomorrow, after we’ve been hanged?” Rapunzel deadpanned.

  “Since when did you become so sarcastic?” Ella asked.

  Rapunzel shrugged. “Prison changes a woman.”

  “Darn straight,” Lila said with conviction. “And I’m not going to let it beat me down.” She stood, rolled up her sleeves, and nodded to Ella. “What’s the plan?”

  “The four of us are getting out of this palace tonight, through the window in the Chiller tower,” Ella said. “Then we go find the guys. And if we can’t find them . . . we stop the Darians ourselves.”