The Hero's Guide to Being an Outlaw

  Val ran at him with her sword, but after one quick-as-a-blink slash from Bailywimple’s blade, she was disarmed. Ella stretched her arms out to either side and stood protectively in front of the others. She glared at the Captain of the Guard, waiting for him to make his move. The three seconds of silence that followed seemed to last a month.

  Fig. 20

  CAPTAIN EUPHUSTUS BAILYWIMPLE

  “Is it true?” Bailywimple finally said.

  “Is what true?” Ella asked.

  “Everything Princess Lila said—about Briar Rose being alive and the Darians on the attack. Is it true?”

  Lila nodded vehemently. “I swear on my life.”

  Bailywimple stepped aside. The women stared in confusion.

  “What are you waiting for?” he snapped. “I won’t be able to keep them busy forever.”

  They didn’t need to be told twice. With the stomps and grunts of approaching soldiers behind them, they dashed out past Bailywimple, who clicked the gate shut behind them. A few seconds later, they could hear him barking at his men: “Why are you wasting your time back here? This gate is locked! They must be hiding among the topiary! Start searching! A reward to the man who captures the fugitives!”

  In the gathering darkness, the escapees fled across the open Avondellian countryside.

  PART IV

  AFTER THE TRUTH

  27

  AN OUTLAW HITS THE BOOKS

  Few beings the size of Wrathgar could call themselves “human.” Which is probably why few people who knew Wrathgar ever used that word to describe him. His gargantuan frame, combined with his penchant for grunting and his habit of swallowing whole roasted turkeys, made most of the people around Castle Sturmhagen think of him as more beast than man. (Or perhaps more mustache than man, thanks to the two coarse, whiplike braids of facial hair that ran from his upper lip down to his belt.) No one could quite understand why King Olaf had appointed this brooding mountain of muscle as his number one adviser, but no one dared question the matter either.

  “We are hungry,” Wrathgar made the thick-bearded king of Sturmhagen say. “Bring us a new cartload of turkeys.” All the servants rapidly exited the throne room, leaving their monarch and his massive Darian “sage” alone. Wrathgar then let Olaf stare into space as he walked behind the thrones and removed a shimmering crystal orb from a hidden chest. Wrathgar rubbed the orb in the manner he’d been taught, and watched as eddies of green mist began to swirl within it. The vapors soon parted, and the tattooed face of Madu, the Snake Man, appeared. “You finished construction yet?” Wrathgar rumbled.

  “Yeah, we’re all good here in Yondale,” Madu replied. “You?”

  “Ours is all set up,” Wrathgar said. “So are the ones in Svenlandia, Jangleheim, and Carpagia, from what I hear.”

  “So now these princes, they will be done away with, yes?” added a third voice.

  “Vero, is that you?” Madu asked with a hiss. “Are you eavesdropping on us?”

  The dapper, ponytailed head of Vero appeared next to Madu’s in the orb. “Apologies, my Darian friends,” he said in his thick Carpagian accent. “It was not my intention to, as we say in my country, listen in. I only meant to contact Wrathgar, but when I fire up the orb—poof—there you both are. Interesting, yes?”

  “Vero’s got a point,” Wrathgar said.

  “Yes, this three-way chatting, it is quite convenient, no?”

  “Not that,” Wrathgar grumbled. “The princes. We’ve got our men in place, the Mega-orbs have been erected, and the princes are trapped on the island, completely at our mercy. Surely we can kill them now. I tire of playing puppeteer with this fat old honey badger of a king.”

  “I agree,” said Madu. “It is time for Dar to step out of the shadows. We shall reveal ourselves to be what we truly are—the rulers of a new empire! Plus, this castle in Yondale is starting to reek of rotten potatoes. And I don’t understand how. There are no potatoes here. I think it’s the old man. I made him bathe, but the odor still . . . Hold on, there’s someone else coming through.”

  Another face, pale and sinister, began to materialize in the orb.

  “Oh, no. It is Falco,” Vero said, rolling his eyes. “I swear to you, I can never understand anything this squinty little man is trying to tell us.”

  Falco snarled and pointed at his ear to clearly indicate I can hear you!

  “You see what I am saying?” Vero went on. “Impossible.”

  “Welcome, Falco,” Madu said. “Is your Mega-orb set up?”

  “Yes, we are ready to wreak chaos and destruction!”

  “Wait—who said that?” asked Madu.

  “It’s me—Princeslayer,” said a pointy-bearded face that appeared.

  “This orb, it is getting somewhat crowded, no?” said Vero.

  “We have a general named Princeslayer?” Madu asked.

  “No,” Wrathgar said. “That’s just Randy.”

  “I’m not Randy anymore, man! I changed it to Princeslayer. It’s a lot more villain-y, right? And now it sounds like I’ll finally get to kill some princes!”

  “You will not,” a new voice intoned. It was Lord Rundark. And in each of their separate throne rooms, in each of their separate kingdoms, each of the five generals almost dropped his orb.

  “I see now there is a down side to this group chatting, no?” Vero muttered.

  “If you are all so eager for us to move on with our plan,” Rundark said, “why haven’t you put a stop to the attacks of these so-called freedom fighters. Over the past two months, they’ve ambushed my men in four different kingdoms!”

  “But the damage they have done, it is very small, no?” Vero said defensively. “They have stolen but a handful of weapons and horses. It is, as they say in my country, not so much.”

  Falco raised a hand and wiggled five fingers.

  “Falco is right,” said Wrathgar. “I hear there are only five of them.”

  “And I’ve heard they’re all girls,” Madu said, snickering. “Which can’t be true, of course.”

  “Do not jump to this conclusion so quickly, my slithery friend,” Vero said. “I once had the pleasure of dueling the Lady Ella, and I must say, her skill with the sword was—mwah!” He made a kissing sound.

  “Yeah, well we don’t have to worry about her,” Madu said. “Since she and her gal pals got hanged in Avondell back on Midwinter’s Eve.”

  The generals began to chatter away, until a harsh bark from Rundark silenced them. “I care not how many of these accursed rebels there are!” The words burst from his mouth like fire from the jaws of a dragon. “Nor do I care whether they wear pants or hoop skirts! They are a distraction. And we will not make our final move against the kingdoms until I am assured that they are out of the picture.” He paused, breathing heavily for a second, then continued at a more reasonable volume. “I understand your impatience,” he said. “No one wants to see the League of Princes destroyed more than I. No one is more eager to fly the flag of Dar above the royal palaces of all Thirteen Kingdoms. But as I have told you before, we will do this right. We will do this in a way that will ensure Dar’s dominion over the world for all time.”

  Suddenly, a seventh voice joined the conversation, though no new face appeared. It was a voice the generals had all heard before, though none knew to whom it belonged. “These princes are men of legend,” the mysterious voice said. “Their deaths need to be legendary.”

  “My . . . ally is correct,” Rundark said, but there was a glare of frustration in his eyes as he glanced back over his armored shoulder. “The princes will be eliminated in a spectacular fashion before the eyes of the entire world. After that, no one will dare resist us. Rundark out.” His image fizzled away.

  The generals each stowed their orbs and went back to puppeteering their captive monarchs. Though as Madu closed the curtain to his hidden alcove in the throne room of Yondale Castle, his ears suddenly perked up. “Huh?” He spun his tattooed head to glance at the chamber’s dirt-smudged
windows. All were shut to keep out the winter cold. “Weird,” he mumbled. “Could have sworn I felt a breeze.”

  Now, these five “freedom fighters” the Warlord mentioned were, of course, Ella, Lila, Snow, Rapunzel, and Val, who were most decidedly not dead. After their escape from Avondell’s prison, they had trekked north and crossed into Sylvaria to warn Duncan’s family of the looming threat. But as soon as they saw ax-wielding Darians patrolling the now ironically named Much Happier Forest, they knew that Sylvaria, too, must have fallen.

  Disguising themselves under heavy, hooded winter cloaks, they fled to Harmonia and then on to Jangleheim, but—

  What’s that? You were expecting us to check back in with the Princes Charming? Seriously, nothing has happened with those guys. They’ve been stuck on a deserted island, bored out of their minds. Gustav splashed around in the surf a lot, claiming to be “punching the ocean,” while Frederic moaned about getting sand in his shoes and having to eat cave fungus, and Duncan spent much of his time either naming sand mites or grooming his hat. Liam and Briar threw insults at each other for the first few weeks, but eventually began talking about other things—like unfulfilled ambitions, feeling misunderstood, and how they both thought they’d be a better ruler than their parents. But other than that, nothing very exciting happened. Like I said, they never figured out how to get off that island.

  So, back to our resistance fighters, who had a lot going on at that point.

  The fugitive women had one big point in their favor—most of the world believed they were dead. The morning after their escape, King Basil had publicly announced that his daughter’s killers had been recaptured (even though the only person actually thrown behind bars that night was Captain Euphustus Bailywimple). Then, on Midwinter’s Eve, Basil told his people that, fearing another escape attempt, he had to cancel the public execution and hang the murderers within the safe confines of his dungeon. (In reality, the only things hung in the dungeon that night were some portraits of monkeys in party hats.)

  Ella and the others could only guess as to why the king had carried out this deception—embarrassment, they figured—but they didn’t really care. They were free. Although it was now more important than ever that they keep their identities hidden. So they bounced from kingdom to kingdom, seeking a safe haven, but they ran into Darians everywhere they turned. And they received no aid from the citizens of these kingdoms, all of whom had heard their monarchs welcome the Darians as “friends and allies from across the mountains,” and who would have been quick to notify the authorities of any rebellious talk. So the Ferocious Female Freedom Fighters (or “ffff!” as Snow called them) were born. And they never stopped moving. They ran a zigzag course across the map, from the ice-covered lakes of Jangleheim, across the snowy mountains of Carpagia, and into the bucolic village streets of Valerium, ambushing squads of roving Darians along the way. Using Lila’s stealth, Ella’s leadership, Snow’s marksmanship, and Val’s brute strength—with Rapunzel’s healing abilities as a nice bit of insurance—they’d managed not only to keep themselves well stocked on supplies, but to seriously annoy the Darian army.

  Fig. 21

  FFFF!

  They were camped in a sparse forest on the western edge of Valerium, enjoying some sandwiches they’d “liberated” from the Darians, when they were startled by a sudden clatter. Smimf popped out of thin air and skidded to a crashing halt amid their bundles of pots, spoons, and cooking supplies. The red-faced, out-of-breath messenger looked sheepishly at Lila as he desperately tried to tidy the mess.

  “Hello, sir, Your Highness, sir,” he panted. “I was hoping to run into you.”

  Lila burst out laughing. It was the first real laugh she’d had in months, and it felt good. Smimf had no idea what he’d said to make Princess Lila laugh so much, but whatever it was, it made her smile, so he wasn’t going to question it.

  Ella stepped in. “Smimf, how did you know where to find us?”

  “I didn’t, sir, Your Highness, sir,” he replied, loosening his scarf. “I had something really important to tell Princess Lila, but I had no idea where she was, so I just ran around looking.”

  “Randomly?” Lila asked.

  “I figured if I ran everywhere, I’d eventually find you,” Smimf said. “So I did. And it only took two and a half months.”

  “What did you need to tell her?” Ella asked. The women all leaned in to listen.

  “Well, sir, Your Highness, sir,” Smimf began, “I delivered your message to all the kings and queens you asked me to. But I’m pretty sure all of them are having their minds controlled by that Djinn Gem thingamabob.”

  “All of them?” Ella asked.

  “Mr. Smimf, did you happen to see my father, King Edwyn of Yondale?” Snow asked in a voice even more slight and soft than usual. “How did he look?”

  Smimf lowered his eyes as he delivered the news. “He was very thin, sir, and very pale. He sat slumped so low in his throne that his chin almost touched the ground. His eyelids drooped, and his body rattled with every breath.”

  “Oh, thank goodness he’s okay!” Snow said with relief. “He’s just the way he was when I last saw him.”

  “Smimf, is there anyplace the Darians haven’t gotten hold of?” Ella asked.

  The messenger sucked air through his teeth and shook his head. “Only Avondell, as far as I can tell.”

  “And we can’t go back there,” Lila said soberly.

  “Smimf, would you like a sandwich?” Rapunzel said, looking rather pale. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Oh, thank you, sir, Your Highness, sir,” Smimf said, joining the women on logs around the campfire. “I don’t think I’ve eaten since . . . November.”

  The sun sank below the horizon, and the trees around them turned into black silhouettes against the clear indigo sky. It was nearly January, and even this far south, a thin blanket of snow covered the ground. The women were snug enough in their fur-lined cloaks, but Smimf’s chapped knees knocked together.

  “Is there anything else you can tell us that might be helpful?” Ella asked. “Anything unusual that you saw in your travels?”

  “Would giant crystal balls count?” Smimf asked. “Because there’s one sitting just outside every royal palace.”

  “Giant crystal balls?” Rapunzel echoed.

  “I don’t know what else to call them, sir. They’ve been set on top of enormous wooden stands, so everyone can see them—huge, round, shiny balls. They look kind of like my grandmother’s glass eye, only a lot bigger.”

  “What do you think those are for?” Lila wondered.

  “Snow globes!” Snow said gleefully. The others shook their heads.

  “Oh, and there are some smaller crystal balls, too,” Smimf added.

  “Snow globes!” Snow cheered again.

  “Do you remember that man from the Bandit King’s castle, the rather—pardon my language—unappealing one with the tattoos? He had a small crystal ball with him in Yondale Castle. And he was talking to it. And it talked back. I heard everything they said.”

  The women all leaned in closer. Smimf took a bite of his sandwich.

  “What did they say?” the women snapped in unison.

  “Oh! Sorry,” Smimf mumbled through a full mouth. He wiped his lips and went on. “The good news is—your prince friends are still alive.”

  The women whooped with joy.

  “The bad news is that Lord Rundark’s going to kill them,” Smimf added.

  “Lord Rundark! I remember him,” Snow said, wrinkling her nose. “I didn’t like him.”

  “But Rundark is dead,” Ella said. “We all saw him get pulled underwater by those bladejaw eels.”

  “You didn’t stick around to see those eels cough up a skeleton, though, right?” Val ventured. “Maybe his men fished him out after you ditched the place.”

  “I was in that moat for all of three seconds, and those eels almost killed me,” Ella said. “Rundark was down there for way longer. Even
if he crawled out afterward, there’s no way he could’ve survived the injuries. I mean, it’s not like Rapunzel hung around to heal him or anything.” She turned to Rapunzel and narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t, did you?”

  “Of course not!” Rapunzel protested. But then, suddenly, her eyes got very wide and her cheeks went pale. “Oh, dear. My tears. I’d been worried about Frederic, so I gave him a vial of my tears. But the bad guys took it away from him before he got to use it. Oh, no. This is all my fault. My tears healed Lord Rundark.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Lila said.

  “How else do you explain it?” Rapunzel began breathing in short, gasping spurts. “What have I done?”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Ella said.

  “You don’t understand,” Rapunzel said, walking circles around the fire. “I’ve devoted my life to healing the sick and maimed. And I have to be honest—if someone had brought Rundark to me and asked me to heal him, I would have.”

  “What?” Val snapped.

  “I can’t turn my back on anyone,” Rapunzel continued. “It’s not in my nature. Do you know how many of these Darian soldiers we’ve ambushed that I’ve snuck back and cried on? I even helped Orangebeard fix the big toe he broke during the wagon chase. So, yes, if asked at the time, I would have healed Rundark. And I apparently did. But now that I see what he’s done since then, I can’t help but feel responsible for all the lives he’s ruined and the damage he’s caused.”

  “Go easy on her, Val,” Ella said. She put her arm around Rapunzel. “Look, you’re not the fiercest warrior here, but you may be the best human being.”

  “Were we having a contest for that?” Snow asked. “Because I would’ve entered. I’m very good at being a human.”

  “Look,” said Ella. “It’s possible that Rapunzel is partly to blame for Rundark’s rise to power, but no more so than the rest of us. All of us stormed that castle—and unwittingly put the Djinn Gem right into the Warlord’s hands.”

  “I didn’t,” Val said.