The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom by Christopher Healy Page A
Authors: Christopher Healy
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wasn’t.
He did, however, have an almost supernatural way of distracting people. While he blathered on about the best uses for thimbles and his favorite shape of noodle, none of the princes noticed the MISSING poster tacked to a roadside tree, the poster that bore a sketch of a man wearing a big, floppy feathered cap and holding a mandolin.
7
P RINCE C HARMING H AS N O I DEA W HAT’S G OING O N
W 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,
He did, however, have an almost supernatural way of distracting people. While he blathered on about the best uses for thimbles and his favorite shape of noodle, none of the princes noticed the MISSING poster tacked to a roadside tree, the poster that bore a sketch of a man wearing a big, floppy feathered cap and holding a mandolin.
7
P RINCE C HARMING H AS N O I DEA W HAT’S G OING O N
W 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,
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