“Where do you think you’re going?” Ella snapped. “I’ll go first.”
“Yes, sir, Miss Ruffian, sir,” the goblin said, and he hopped down out of her way. Ella began to climb the tall ladder.
“Should we, uh, keep an eye on your new prisoner here?” one of the other goblins asked, bringing the point of his spear dangerously close to Lila’s chest.
Ella paused. She didn’t want to leave Lila alone with these creatures. But Lila nodded to her reassuringly. I’m okay, the younger girl mouthed to her.
“Yes, watch her,” Ella said. “But do not harm a hair on her head, if you know what’s good for you.” Lila grinned.
Ella continued up the ladder. As she neared the top, she saw a floppy-hatted man appear in the window. He was holding a mandolin as if it were a bow, with the low E string pulled back and ready to launch another tuning knob. Pennyfeather!
When the bard saw who was coming up the ladder, he lowered his makeshift weapon.
“Lady Ella?” he asked, thinking he must be hallucinating.
Ella held her finger to her lips to shush Pennyfeather and motioned for him to get away from the window. Below, the goblins were circling Lila with their spears.
Ella climbed over the windowsill into the small tower cell.
“Don’t say a word,” she whispered to the bard, trying not to be distracted by his glistening silver pantaloons. “We can trick them and get you out of here.”
“What do you plan to do?” the musician whispered. “I’ve only got one string left.”
“Give me your mandolin and step back,” Ella said. The minstrel handed over his instrument, and Ella yelled out to the goblins, “Uh-oh, Wendy is not going to be happy about this. You three had better come in here quick.”
The panicked goblins started to flee. “Don’t run,” Lila warned. “It’s pointless. No one escapes Ruffian the Blue. She’ll find you in minutes.”
“But—,” the first goblin began.
“Your only chance is to get up there and fix the mess you’ve made,” Lila said.
In a tizzy, the goblins handed their spears to Lila. “Hold these,” one said.
The goblins hustled to the top of the ladder, and as each stepped in through the window, Ella clobbered him over the head with the mandolin.
“That takes care of that,” Ella said once all three goblins lay in a heap on the floor of the cell. She and the bard made a speedy exit, practically sliding down the ladder on their way out. Then they pulled it away from the tower and let it fall to the grass with a thump, ensuring that the goblins would be trapped up there for quite some time.
“Oh, and there’s another lovely young lady,” the bard said.
“Lila. Big fan. Pleasure to meet you.” She shook his hand. “Oh, darn. I probably should have curtsied, right?”
“Think nothing of it,” the former prisoner said with an over-the-top bow. “Pennyfeather the Mellifluous is forever in your debt, young lasses. Though I must admit, I’m quite baffled by your presence here, Lady Ella.”
“I was a prisoner of the witch myself,” Ella said.
“Oh, so you know that the fiendish woman has my brethren bards locked away as well?” Pennyfeather asked, as he fluffed out the puffy sleeves of his shimmery gold blouse-shirt. “Aid must be procured for the others. As much as there’s a part of me that would love to see my competition languish away in that garishly decorated fortress—especially Lyrical Leif and his lackluster rhymes. Can you believe the man rhymed ‘Rumpelstiltskin’ with ‘crumpled napkins’? I don’t even know how that got past the Bards’ Board of Acceptable Rhymes. But I digress. As I was saying, even those lesser tunesmiths don’t deserve to be at the whim of that horrid sorceress. When she took us from her stronghold, I had no idea what manner of nightmarish plans she had in store for us. To be honest, I was rather relieved when she deposited me in this smaller tower and left me with those goblins.”
“Is that what they were?” Ella asked. “Goblins?”
“Don’t mind her,” Lila said, patting Ella on the back. “She’s apparently new to the outside world.”
“Pennyfeather, did you by any chance see where the other towers are?” Ella asked. “The ones the rest of the bards are in?”
“No, I was the first of us to be dropped off,” Pennyfeather said. “But if my fellow troubadours are all in similar towers, I think there may be a map that reveals their locations. I heard the goblins talking about it when they showed up for guard duty, complaining that the witch wouldn’t let them take the map and wondering if maybe they were at the wrong tower.”
“That’s great,” said Lila. “So the map must be back at that Batwing place. I’ll tell my dad to send his army straight over there.”
“Yes, you should do exactly that,” Ella said. “But I need to continue back to the witch’s fortress now.”
“By yourself?” Lila cried. “Why?”
“Because that witch is unstable,” Ella said. “She may try to kill the bards before any assistance can arrive. I have to act now.” What she didn’t tell Lila was that she had no desire to sit back twiddling her thumbs while some platoon of men with swords swooped in to save the day. She wanted to be right in the thick of things.
“Well, good luck, I guess,” Lila said. “Maybe I’ll see you again someday?”
“I guarantee it.” Ella pulled a brass pin from her own hair and used it to pin back Lila’s annoyingly loose ringlet. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s been bugging me.”
“It’s okay,” Lila said.
Ella turned to Pennyfeather. “Oh, here’s your mandolin back, by the way.” She handed him the shattered instrument, the cracked body of which was completely separated from the neck, dangling only by the frayed E string. “My apologies for that,” she added. “I hope you have a spare.”
“Thirty-five, actually,” Pennyfeather said, flashing a very white smile. “Thank you again for the rescue. I’m going to write another song about you.”
“Another song?” Lila wondered aloud as Ella ran off into the woods.
18
PRINCE CHARMING GETS BATTERED AND FRIED
Outside Zaubera’s fortress, Gustav was pounding mercilessly on the fallen giant.
“Get off him!” Gustav screamed as he kicked, punched, and poked. Groaning, Reese rolled over, revealing poor Prince Frederic, who’d been smashed facedown into the soil. Gustav peeled Frederic up from the sloppy, wet muck.
“Are you alive?” he asked his limp companion.
“I don’t think so,” Frederic said weakly.
Gustav dragged him over to the still-unconscious Duncan.
“Stay here by Mr. Mini-Cape,” he said. “I’m going to finish off this extra-large pain in the neck.”
Reese was sitting on the ground, rubbing his various injuries. He groaned when he saw Gustav marching back toward him.
“This job doesn’t pay enough,” wailed the giant.
Suddenly the doors of the stronghold burst open, and the dragon charged out into the clearing with Liam astride its serpentine neck. Liam’s eyes grew wide as he saw Gustav walking directly in the dragon’s path.
“Gustav, look out!” he yelled.
Gustav had only enough time to look in the direction of Liam’s voice and say, “Oh, starf it all,” before he was engulfed in a ball of dragon fire. His armor protected most of his body, although its fur trim disintegrated instantly, and Gustav’s long blond hair sizzled into nothingness. He dropped his sword and crumpled to the ground, beating on his head to put out the fire.
Relieved to see that Gustav was still alive (if slightly scorched), Liam began tugging on the dragon’s horns, trying to steer it in the giant’s direction. Instead of following directions, the beast surprised him by unfurling a pair of broad, leathery wings and taking to the air.
“Where were you hiding those?” Liam cried as the dragon circled the open sky above the fortress. Trying to keep his wits about him, he pushed the horns to angle the dragon’s head ground
-ward. “Down! Down!”
It seemed to work. At tremendous speed, the dragon began to dive straight down toward the giant. Wind whipped at Liam viciously, threatening to tear him from his perch on the dragon’s neck, but he held on tight. Reese saw the dragon zooming toward him and hid his face in his hands.
During all of this, Zaubera had been planning and plotting up in the observatory at the top of her fortress’s tallest tower, where she often went to think. Her Supreme Scheme for Infamy was moving along nicely. She’d procured Cinderella, the ultimate hero lure. She had each of the bards hidden away in a separate location, safe from any mass rescue attempts before the grand finale. And she’d already taken the precaution of hiring extra security for the big day.
Three weeks earlier…
Surrounded by wary bandit henchmen, Deeb Rauber sat upon his stolen throne and gave a steely-eyed staredown to the bone-thin, sunken-eyed old woman who’d burst, uninvited, into his headquarters.
“Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Rauber said. “You want me, the infamous Bandit King, and my entire army to work as security for some show you’re putting on?”
“Not a show, a massacre,” Zaubera scoffed. “I’m going to be obliterating people.”
“And how are you going to do that, old lady?” Rauber asked. “Spook ’em to death with your creepy grandma stare?”
“No,” said Zaubera. “I was thinking something more like this.” She flexed her fingers and sent an arc of mystic blue lightning across the room and directly into Neville’s chest. The lanky bandit let out a high-pitched shriek and hit the floor, twitching.
“Neat,” said Rauber. He stroked an imaginary beard. “But if you can do that, what do you need us for?”
“As I explained earlier, I’m expecting a rather large audience,” Zaubera said. “It would be helpful if you and your men could, shall we say, keep them in their seats. I don’t want anybody leaving before the big finale.”
“Well, this all sounds like tons of fun,” Rauber said, reaching into a bowl of gumdrops beside his throne and popping one into his mouth. “But what’s in it for me?”
“How about a kingdom?” Zaubera said. The Bandit King leaned forward, listening intently. A little droplet of drool slipped past his lower lip. “Once my entire plan has worked its course, five of the biggest kingdoms in the land will be left utterly defenseless. You can take whichever of them you’d like.”
Rauber found it hard not to bounce in his seat, but tried to sound cool and professional. “I think this might be a mutually beneficial arrangement,” he said. “You can count us in, old lady.”
Fig. 35 Zaubera’s HOME OFFICE
The only thing left for Zaubera to figure out was the best way to inform the world about her bardnappings. Whatever method she chose, it had to really grab people’s attention. It had to be spectacular.
Zaubera sat down at her desk in the center of the large round observatory. The dark stone pillars that ringed the room and the bloodred roof above had a way of making her feel extra evil. The witch moved her human skull candleholder and cage of tarantulas out of the way and unrolled a yellowing parchment. She dipped her vulture-feather quill into an inkwell and began to brainstorm.
She heard a commotion outside and ran to the window. A handful of armed men were storming her fortress.
“Well, those fools took their time getting here,” she said. “How hard is it to track someone who makes ten-yard footprints?” She scurried downstairs as fast as her spindly legs would carry her.
Zaubera emerged from the front door of her stronghold just in time to see the dragon hurtling toward Reese.
“Freeze!” she rasped.
The dragon abruptly stopped in midair. Liam, however, did not. His own momentum was so great that he lost his grip on the monster’s horns. He flew off the dragon’s neck, sailed over its head, and barreled into the giant’s hefty belly. With a loud oof! Reese doubled over, and Liam bounced to the ground, dazed and bruised.
“Shake it off, you colossal wimp,” Zaubera rasped at the giant. “I think I might have to let you go, Reese. I don’t think you’re working out. I got you a dragon and you still can’t handle a handful of ridiculous little humans.”
“At least they didn’t free the girl,” Reese said, hoping the witch had not yet discovered that the only prisoner inside her fortress was a hunk of lumber.
“True,” Zaubera said. “But these sorry losers were getting the better of you, Reese. You’re bigger than the four of them combined.”
“I’ll do better next time, ma’am,” Reese said, lowering his head.
“And you,” the witch said, turning to the dragon. “You let one of them ride you?”
The creature licked its claws, pretending not to hear her.
“Ach, never mind,” Zaubera spat. “Reese, you want to make it as a force of evil in this town? Watch me. I’ll show you how you do evil. Just keep that dumb animal out of my way.”
The giant called the dragon to his side, where it plopped itself down and began licking its wings.
“Okay, now,” Zaubera said, looking out upon the four princes. “There are more of you than I expected. Who are you? Who is it who thinks he can defeat the all-powerful Zaubera?”
Liam rose shakily to his feet. “We are the men who are going to put an end to you.”
“Wrong,” Zaubera said. She raised her arms into the air, her ragged red-and-gray robe fluttering around her as a sudden wind began to blow. A bolt of glowing blue energy burst forth from her hands and blasted into Liam. He landed in a heap. “Any of you others have a better answer?”
Frederic shook Duncan awake.
“Eek! A mud-man!” Duncan shrieked when he opened his eyes. “Oh, wait. Frederic, that’s you. Sorry. You’re very dirty.”
“Duncan, pay attention,” Frederic instructed soberly. “The witch is here. And a dragon.”
“Giant, too?”
“Yes. And the witch just blasted Liam with some kind of magic lightning.”
Duncan sat up and looked around.
“There’s nothing good about any of that,” he said flatly.
“We’ve got to do something, Duncan. Use your luck.”
“But I don’t use my luck,” Duncan said apologetically. “It just happens. I’m sorry.”
“I’m waaaaiting,” Zaubera called in a singsong voice. “Who are you?”
“We are the men who are going to put an end to you.” This time it was Gustav, who had managed to stagger to his feet.
“Ooh, you’re repeating what the last guy said,” the witch mocked. “Nice dramatic effect. Still, however, not a good enough answer. I’m looking for names, people.”
Gustav started to charge at Zaubera. Only a few steps into his attack, a massive blast of blue lightning stopped him in his tracks. Zaubera cackled as she watched Gustav writhe on the ground before her.
“I know I’m impressively terrifying, but enough with the slack-jawed staring,” Zaubera continued. “One of you had better speak up soon. I’m just going to keep zapping your bald friend here until someone tells me who you all are.” She pummeled Gustav with one blast of mystical energy after another.
Duncan popped to his feet. “Princes!” he blurted. “Prince of Sylvonia. I mean Harmaria. No, that’s him. I mean we’re all princes. The song says Prince Charming, but that’s not the real name. I mean we all have real names. Is that what you want to hear? We know your name. Something with a Z. Did you know I’m magic?”
Duncan continued to babble, but Zaubera stopped listening after the words “Prince Charming.” One of these fools was Prince Charming? It was too perfect. Prince Charming would make the perfect addition to her finale. But which one was he?
Liam, in the meantime, was taking advantage of the distraction Duncan provided. Crawling on his belly, he made his way to Gustav’s fallen sword. He grabbed the weapon and began twisting it until its glimmering blade caught a ray of sun and reflected the glare directly into the dragon’s eye.
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As Liam had hoped, the big creature recoiled from the sudden eyeful of bright light. The dragon growled and thrashed, and smashed into the unsuspecting Reese.
Out of the corner of her eye, Zaubera saw Reese’s tremendous form falling toward her. “You oaf!” she screamed, and quickly cast a magic bubble shield in time to protect herself. Taking advantage of the distraction, Liam grabbed Gustav’s arm and tugged him, staggering, toward the trees.
“What’s happening? Are we running away or going back to fight some more?” Gustav asked. “I can’t see.”
“Gustav, are you blind again?” Liam asked.
“Not like before,” Gustav said. “I just can’t—argh! All I see are colored lights.”
“Just go where I pull you,” Liam said. “We’re heading into the woods. The witch is … busy for the moment.”
Back at the foot of the tower, the three villains were embroiled in chaos. The witch, still in her protective bubble, was screaming at the giant to get off her, which he was having a hard time doing, thanks to the dragon, which had jumped, snarling, onto his chest.
As Liam dragged Gustav to safety, Duncan and Frederic ran alongside them.
“What’s going on?” Frederic panted. “What about Ella?”
“Just run, Frederic,” Liam said. “Ella’s gone!”
“She’s dead?” Frederic gasped.
“Not dead,” Liam clarified. “Gone. As in: not in the fortress. She escaped.”
Frederic’s mind was reeling. Ella was free, the princes were all still alive (somehow), and this adventure was over. He should have been feeling nothing but relief. But more than anything else, he was depressed. This entire sorry episode had proven one thing: He was not a hero.
19
PRINCE CHARMING NEEDS A BATH
Come, Your Young Highness. Castle Sturmhagen lies not a full day’s trek from here,” Pennyfeather said, as he and Lila stood at the foot of the tower that now held a trio of very sad goblins. “The venerable King Olaf and Queen Berthilda can no doubt provide a formidable rescue party for my fellow bards.”