The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom (14 page)

P
RINCE
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HARMING
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hile the four princes were setting off on their rescue mission, the damsel they planned to rescue had long since rescued herself. Here’s how it went down: After the collapse of the witch’s prison tower, Ella was carried across Sturmhagen in the burlap shirt pocket of Reese, the giant. Concerned for both herself and Frederic—what in the world had
he
been doing there?—she knew she had to plot an escape as soon as possible. Throughout the very bumpy (and itchy) trip, she slowly worked at pulling loose a thread that ran across the bottom of the huge pocket, thankful, for once, that her stepmother had forced her to do all of the family’s sewing and mending. As she furiously unraveled the stitching, she listened to Zaubera, the witch, berate her humongous henchman.

“You clumsy oaf,” Zaubera yelled from her seat on Reese’s fat palm. “You klutzy doofus. You uncoordinated lummox.” She’d cast the thesaurus spell on herself.

For the most part, the giant remained silent and took the abuse. But every now and again, he’d murmur, with surprisingly proper speech, “I don’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to me.” To which Zaubera would respond, “Do you think I care? You bunglesome clodpole.”

Ella wasn’t fast enough to create a human-size hole in the giant’s pocket before they reached Zaubera’s home (giants can get pretty much anywhere quickly; they take big steps). But she had taken note of Reese’s frustration with his unmannered mistress and planned to use it to her advantage.

When the giant plucked her from his shirt, Ella got a glimpse of her new surroundings. She was in the mountains, outside a tremendous fortress constructed entirely of stark black stone. Grotesque, carved granite gargoyles jutted out from every ledge and rain gutter, and the walls were crisscrossed with eerie purplish ivy. But the structure’s most prominent feature was its two-hundred-foot-tall observatory tower. Topped off by a pointed, bloodred roof, the tower looked like a colossal spear stabbing into the heavens.

Zaubera snapped her fingers, and her stronghold’s huge wooden double doors swung open. The witch prodded Ella inside and directed her up ten flights of stairs (only halfway up the sky-high tower). There, Ella was locked inside a cramped room furnished with nothing more than a splintery wooden cot and threadbare blanket.

A few moments later, through her cell’s lone window, Ella saw the witch emerge from the fortress. Floating behind her was a massive bubble, inside of which Ella could see a jumble of people piled upon one another. She couldn’t tell who they were or even how many of them were in there; all she could really make out was a tangle of arms and legs, lots of shiny, shimmery fabric, and several oversize floppy hats.

“Stay alert, Reese,” Zaubera warned. “Those two nimrods will eventually show up here for another rescue attempt. I know their types. The skinny one will have wanted to rush out for help, but the big hero will push him straight to us. I don’t expect him to give us any real trouble, but just as a precaution, I figure it’s best to split up the La-La Lads here, put them each in his own separate prison. At least until I’m ready for the finale.”

“Sounds sensible, ma’am,” Reese said.

“I don’t need to remind you that you’ve got the most important hostage right here, Reese,” Zaubera warned. “I’m going to come back here with some assistance for you.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary, ma’am,” Reese said.

Zaubera narrowed her eyes. “Do you fear me, Reese?”

The giant’s huge Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Yes,” he said.

“That was the right answer, Reese,” Zaubera said. Then she curled her fingers and launched a crackling ball of energy into the giant’s already injured shin. Reese’s howl of pain echoed through miles of forest.

“Don’t foul things up,” she said as Reese crouched down to massage his scalded leg. And she left.

Ella looked at the giant. An enormous tear appeared to be welling up in the corner of his eye.

Zaubera left, with her bubble of glittery prisoners bobbing behind her as she walked. As soon as the witch was out of earshot, Ella leaned out the window and spoke to the giant at his eye level. “Why do you let her treat you like that?”

Reese flinched in surprise, causing the earth to rumble. Ella gripped the windowsill.

“Sorry about that,” the giant said after the tremor subsided. “The prisoners don’t usually talk to me. Especially the famous ones.”

“Famous? Oh, please, just think of me as your average, garden-variety hostage,” said Ella, realizing that her captor was a bit starstruck. “But you didn’t answer my question. The witch, she’s terrible to you. Why don’t you just—I don’t know—squish her?”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that, ma’am,” Reese said. “That would be awfully impolite. My mother didn’t raise me that way. She always told me never to hurt a lady.”

“But it’s okay to kidnap young women?”

“Mum never said anything specifically about kidnapping. But look, I never did hurt you now, did I?”

“No, I suppose not. As far as kidnappers go, you’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

“Why, thank you. My mum would be proud to hear it.”

“Tell me something, sir,” Ella said.

“Oh, please, ma’am,” the giant interrupted. “Call me Reese.”

“Thank you. Tell me, Reese: Your mother sounds like a very well-mannered woman. What would she think of that witch you work for?”

“That’s an interesting question.” Reese scratched his head, sending huge white flakes of dandruff fluttering down like a freak snowstorm. “I think she’d certainly have some problems with her. Mostly the name-calling. Mum isn’t a fan of that sort of thing.”

“So how did you get hooked up with someone as rude as your boss?” Ella asked.

“Mum had been after me for quite a while to get a job, so when I saw the ad, I thought I’d go for it.”

“Witches put out ads for henchmen?”

Reese nodded. “You just have to know where to look.”

“Fascinating,” Ella said. “So what do you do for the witch?”

Reese looked worried. “Well, it’s all part of a big secret plot. So, I apologize, but I don’t think I should say. At least not until I check with the witch.”

“That’s okay, Reese,” Ella said, trying to sound as gracious as possible. “I am your prisoner, after all, stuck here with no place to go. I suppose you can tell me whenever you want.”

“You bring up a good point, ma’am,” the giant said. “Who are you going to tell, right? I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to share a few of the details with you.”

Ella smiled.

“Well, the witch has been snatching up those singing folks—the bards,” Reese said.

Pennyfeather!
Ella tried to mask the thrill she felt.

“She’s got five of them,” Reese continued. “She needed somebody to keep an eye on the prisoners while she prepares for her big finale. She calls the whole thing her Supreme Scheme for Infamy.”

“So she hired you to help,” Ella guessed.

“Not originally, no. Her first helper was this ogre named Grimsby, but she turned him into a smoking pile of bacon after he let one of the prisoners escape. Took the witch days to get the little singing guy back again.”

“I see. That’s when she hired you.”

“No. After Grimsby was a pair of dog-men. But they were too easily distracted by squirrels. So … bacon.”

“And then you?”

Fig. 19 Rejected HENCHMEN

Reese nodded.

“So where is she putting the bards now?” Ella asked.

“In some of her other towers, I suppose,” Reese said with a shrug. “She’s got towers all over the place.”

“Aha, so you wouldn’t know exactly where those towers are, then?”

“Afraid not, ma’am. The witch’ll probably hire some other guards for those fellows, anyway. I’ve got to stay here and watch you.”

“And you’re doing a spectacular job, by the way,” Ella said with a curtsy.

“Why, thank you, ma’am.” The giant crossed his arms and flashed Ella a big, gap-toothed smile (it’s hard for giants to find a toothbrush big enough for good dental hygiene).

“So, Reese, what’s this big finale I keep hearing about?”

“Ah, yes. The Grand Finale of Doom,” Reese said. “The name is a bit highfalutin, but the witch insists it’s going to be a massacre with
pizzazz
—her word, not mine.” Ella flinched at the word “massacre.”
The witch is going to kill the bards
, she thought.
With no bards, the minstrels will have no new material. What will they sing about? Where will the people get new stories? How will anyone know anything?
It was almost too unbearable an idea to contemplate.

The giant went on. “The whole thing’s taking an awful lot of preparation. I was shown a diagram of what’s supposed to happen, but I couldn’t really understand it. It had lightning bolts and flying skulls, you name it. In one section of the sketch, it looked like the witch was shooting bears at people out of cannons. Personally, I think it’s a bit much. ‘Why not just drop a rock on them?’ I asked. But the old lady tells me I’m not thinking big enough. ‘Where’s your sense of drama?’ she says.”

“This is very informative, Reese.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I do my best to be helpful.”

Aside from the bit about murdering the bards, the conversation was quite pleasant. It was so politely engaging, in fact, that it reminded her of chatting with Frederic. And the thought of Frederic put another idea in her mind—one that would aid in her escape. “But Reese, I think you could be of service in a more important way.”

“What can I do for you, ma’am? You are my captive, after all, and I will do whatever I can to make your stay comfortable.”

“Have you ever been inside this tower, Reese?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. I’ve never really seen the inside of the fortress at all. I can poke my head in through those big double doors down there, but I get stuck at the shoulders. And considering what happened to that last tower, I don’t want to chance it.”

“Do you have any idea how damp and moldy it is in here?”

“Is it now?” the giant asked, sounding somewhat embarrassed. “That’s terribly inhospitable. I’ll have to make sure that gets cleaned up when the witch returns.”

“Thank you, but I’m not sure it can wait. I’m terribly allergic to molds, you see.” She tried to sound weak and woozy in the way Frederic did whenever he got a paper cut. “It’s so bad in here, I’m starting to get a bit dizzy. I’m afraid I might fall and hurt myself.”