How to Rescue a Dead Princess

it's going to take some time.”

“I don't have time!” Roderick shouted. “If the horse isn't ready in ten minutes, the king dies!”

“Do what he says!” ordered King Irving.

Four of the guards filed out of the chamber. One of them returned a moment later. “A horse, right?”

Roderick nodded. The guard left again.

“You can't get away with this, you know,” said Randall. “After you kill the king and get on your horse, they'll follow you to the ends of the Generic Fantasy Land. There's nowhere you'll be safe, not the Caverns of Despair, not the Pits of Searing Hellfire, not even the Slaughter Tombs of Agonized Shrieking and Bloodshed!”

“Says you.”

One of the guards raised his hand. “I say it, too.”

“Face it, Roderick,” said Randall, “there's no way you can escape. You might as well give up right now.”

Roderick was silent for a long moment, considering what to do. He moved the knife away from the king's throat. “Okay, suppose I let the king go and give myself up. What will happen to me?”

The guard with his hand still in the air spoke up. “Why, you'll be tortured and executed, of course.”

Roderick pressed the knife against the king's throat again.

“No, no—he was just joking!” Randall insisted. “You were just joking, right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” said the guard. “I was dead humorous.”

All the other guards let loose with a series of hearty chuckles to prove to Roderick that the statement had been nothing more than a silly little gag.

“See?” asked Randall. “With all the stress in a guard's life, there's no way they could chuckle like that unless it had truly been a joke.”

“Very well,” said Roderick. “So, what happens to me if I surrender, then?”

The guard with his hand still in the air started to speak, but was knocked unconscious by one of his co- workers just in time. “Let's see,” said Randall. “They'd have a huge feast in your honor, complete with the devouring of a dead animal that still looks like the animal it used to be while alive. Then you'd be given a gold bracelet worth millions of dvorkins, with your initials scratched into it.”

“I don't have initials. My full name is Roderick.”

“Then it would just use ‘Rod.’ Or ‘Ick.’ Anyway, after the feast ended, you'd be escorted by ten awesomely nubile women to the bathing room, where they would join you in a pool with water set to a temperature of your choosing, then pair off and slowly but thoroughly bathe your appendages.”

“Hmmmm ... that sounds okay,” said Roderick, “but how do I know you're not lying?”

Alan burst into the room. “Sorry to disturb you gentlemen, but I detected a minor vocal tremor that guarantees there's some lying going on in this very room!” He surveyed the current situation and realized his tactical error. “Of course, I'm probably wrong.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Roderick. “Look me in the eye and tell me you were wrong about Randall lying.”

Alan stifled a sob. “I can't. Sorry.”

A guard burst into the room. “It was a horse, right?”

“Yes!” said King Irving.

The guard cursed and left the room.

“Forget this!” said Roderick. “The king dies now!”

“You keep saying that, and yet the king sure looks alive to me,” Jack pointed out.

“Here goes!” announced Roderick.

Then Randall glanced up at the huge chandelier. He flung his dagger skyward, severing the rope that had formerly prevented the chandelier from falling onto the edge of the bed. The chandelier fell onto the edge of the bed. The force of its impact caused the other end of the mattress to flip upward, hurtling Roderick and King Irving through the air and onto the floor. The guards immediately subdued Roderick.

“He's saved the king!” Alan exclaimed.

“He's a hero!” said one of the guards.

“Hey, I deserve a little credit, too,” said Roderick. “It's not like I killed the king when I had a chance.”

King Irving got to his feet. “Get him out of here!” he ordered. The guards dragged Roderick out, kicking and screaming. Roderick was kicking and screaming as well.

“That was quick thinking,” King Irving told Randall. “I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Me too,” said Jack. “After all, I pointed out the chandelier in the first place.”

“To show my great appreciation for what you've done, I won't send you to the guillotine to die a horrible death as planned. How's that sound?”

“Works for me,” said Randall.

“I love everyone,” said Bug.

Chapter 17

The Seventeenth Chapter

RANDALL AND Jack walked over the main drawbridge, as Bug flew behind them. It was still nighttime, but the air was magically lit.

“It was nice of the king to give us these first-place ribbons,” said Randall. “I mean, he didn't have to do that.”

“Big whoop-de-loop-de-doo. Heck, Roderick would have gotten this great feast, and all he had to do was not kill anybody.”

“I was lying about the feast, Jack.”

“Really? Well, now I don't feel so bad about the ribbon.”

“What are we going to do next?” asked Bug.

“I need to get the reagents for the resurrection spell,” said Randall. “I might have a lead on the Necklace of Power, but I'd have to go back to the forest for that anyway, so I'm going to hold off. In the meantime, I need breath from a sleeping maiden, the toenail of Jenstina the Ogre, and the legendary berserker Shreddriff himself.”

“I guess we should start with the easiest one,” said Jack. “I wonder where Shreddriff lives?”

“Look, guy and it, I welcome your help. But the quest may be dangerous, so I don't want you to feel like you have to come with me.”

“Okay, bye,” said Jack, walking off, never to be seen again, until he turned around and came back. “Changed my mind.”

“I'm with you,” said Bug. “You're my best friend.”

“Then we're off,” Randall announced. They walked around the kingdom walls, until they came to the broken drawbridge.

“Looks like some moron tried to walk across that thing,” Jack noted.

“I wonder what that is?” Bug flew over to the gap in the bridge, where a piece of paper was floating. It picked it up with its back legs, then flew over to Randall and dropped it in his hand.

Randall unfolded the paper. “Dearest Pooky Moocher Lovey Frumps—oh, yeah, it's the note that I took from this lady named Scar. You'd probably like her, Bug. I forgot I'd put it in my shoe several chapters, er, a couple days ago.”

“Well, let's hear it,” said Jack.

“Dearest P.M.L.F., I love you so much it hurts. Ow ow ow! That's the sound of my love for you. Do you love me just as much? (circle one) Yes, No. I think you're swell. Best regards, Grysh.” Randall looked up from the note. “What the...?”

“Heck?” prompted Jack, helpfully.

“Yeah, what the heck is going on here? Why would Scar have a love letter from Grysh? Unless ... she stole it from Romeoo! Which means she knows where he is! Which means we might be able to find him! Which means I'll be spared another seduction attempt!” He put the letter in his pocket. “That's definitely something to check out later.”

“Hey!” a guard's voice screamed. “Where's my pony?”

“Run!” Randall shouted.

* * * *