“Your sarcasm is only delaying matters,” Scar told him. “This forest is less than a month old. It sprouted up from nothing at the whim of a witch ... I think her name's Grysh. She lives in the center of a graveyard deep within this forest, and the rumors are that she has the power to raise the dead. At least that's the idea I got from all the zombies guarding her place.”
“You think she'd help us?” Randall asked.
“Well, no, she'll probably just try to kill you until she gets to know you better. But you haven't got much to lose. I dunno, maybe she'll act differently toward a knight.”
“What about my follow-up question?” asked Sir William.
“Why? The only ransom I'm going to get out of her now is a little extra cash from somebody who wants to buy charcoal briquettes. Knights don't work as hostages, because everyone expects them to save themselves, and nobody cares about squires. Plus you're no longer chained, and thus in a good position to hurt me.”
“Will you take us to this witch?” asked Sir William.
“No, but I'll draw you a map. You guys carry the princess and follow me back to our fort—it's just a few minutes away.”
Scar picked up the crystal, as Sir William and Randall each got on separate ends of the princess and lifted her. “Ow!” “Dang!” “Ouch!” “Crud!” “
They set her down. “Do you have any gloves?” asked Sir William.
“Or some cold water to pour on her?” asked Randall.
Scar rolled her eyes. “Don't be such pansies. Think of the pain you'll suffer when the king's men catch you.”
Randall and Sir William exchanged a concerned glance, then picked up the princess again, doing their best to ignore the hot pain, though their best involved a great deal of profanity.
“Do you think we'll need those ashes?” inquired Randall, looking back.
“Maybe,” said Sir William. “I'm more worried about that foot.”
“Is that a foot?”
“I think so. I'm missing one on my end.”
“Here, set her down. I'll get it.”
They placed her gently on the ground, took a moment to massage their blistering hands, then Randall picked up the foot and tried to find a good place to set it. Her mouth was wide open ... but he decided against that for several reasons and just placed it on her chest.
They continued following Scar. “Whoops,” Randall said.
“What?”
“Ummm ... nothing. Just thought I'd say ‘whoops.'”
“What part did we lose?” Sir William demanded.
“I'm not sure. That big one on the ground.”
“Will you guys hurry up?” asked Scar.
“Could you run ahead and get us a bag or something?” Sir William asked.
“Uh-oh,” said Randall.
“What?”
“Ummm ... nothing. That was a good ‘uh-oh.'”
“You have to be more careful, squire! Did the head break when it fell?”
“No, it looks okay.”
“Then put it on top with the rest.”
* * * *
THE FORT consisted of a group of crudely-built wooden structures that looked like a hearty belch could knock them over. Scar's men sat around, some of them playing cards while others prepared for their weekly arts and crafts show. Randall, Sir William, and Scar sat at a table in her private structure. Princess Janice was contained in a large leather sack.
Scar finished drawing a map on a piece of parchment. “It should only take you an hour or so to get there,” she explained, “but the forest is very thick and you can get lost easily. When you finally meet the witch, don't tell her I sent you or she'll shred you on the spot. And don't comment on her nose.”
“What's wrong with her nose?” Randall asked.
“She doesn't have one.”
“How does she smell?”
“Awful,” Scar replied.
“Ha-ha!” Randall laughed.
“I guess you gentlemen are set,” said Scar, handing the map to Randall.
“What about our horses and his sword?” Randall asked.
“We're keeping them,” said Scar.
“I don't think so,” Sir William told her.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You really don't think so?”
“No, not really,” Sir William admitted.
“No, not really meaning you really don't think so, or no not really meaning you don't think so but you don't
“No not really meaning I really don't think so.”
“What point was I trying to make?” Scar asked.
“Nothing, really.”
“Oh, yeah, your weapons and horses. They're ours. Now, you could try and fight me—”
Sir William stood up to do just that.
“—but then you'll never know the answer to the first riddle.” She tapped a section of the map marked with an X. “To get to the cemetery gates, you'll have to pass through the Realm of Mystery. Your wits will be challenged like never before.”
“We'll see about that,” said Sir William. “My wits have been challenged on many occasions.”
“All I can tell you is that the answer to the first riddle is
“Any other obstacles we should know about?” Randall asked.
Scar began tapping her finger against various spots on the map. “Here ... here ... definitely this one ... here ... oooh, that one's nasty ... here ... here ... and here.”
“Thank you,” said Randall.
“Oh, and here,” Scar added.
“Let us go, squire,” said Sir William. “You carry the princess, I'll follow the map.”
* * * *
FIFTEEN MINUTES later they were completely lost.
“Is this map to scale?” Sir William wondered. “I don't think it's to scale. I think she just put these markers any lousy place she felt like.”
“Mind if we rest for a while?” Randall asked, leaning against a tree. “Princess Janice is getting heavy.”
“See, according to this worthless map we should be near a death trap right now, and there's nothing around.”
“The death trap's that way,” said a short man, stepping out from behind a tree and pointing behind them. “Vicious one. They have to hose it down every couple weeks.”
