Fig. 44
FREDERIC, alone
“Oh, I would never even pretend to understand you, Gustav. I just want to help. It’s my nature.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s my nature to . . .” He paused and cocked his head like a curious beagle. “Well, I guess I want to help people, too. Just not in a wimpy way like you do.”
“I’m so glad you appreciate my life’s work,” Rapunzel sighed.
Gustav grinned. “Was that sarcasm, Blondie? I guess I have been rubbing off on you. Anyway, you’re right: You don’t need my help. But somebody out there must. So what am I sitting around for?” He grabbed his bag (which contained nothing but knives and beef jerky) and headed out the front door.
“Where will you go? What will you do?”
“Wander the countryside, I guess,” he said. “Fight off monsters, rescue farm families. You know, hero stuff.”
“And you’re leaving in the middle of a downpour? I mean, I want you to go, but you can wait until the storm stops.”
“I’m not afraid of rain,” Gustav said, his long, wet hair already matted to his forehead. He raised his fist to the sky and jokingly shouted, “Do your worst, clouds!” He laughed and looked back to Rapunzel in the doorway. She was laughing, too. And oddly, Gustav’s heart beat a little bit faster.
“By the way,” he said. “Thanks for saving my life.”
An hour after Liam shut himself into Avondell’s prison, Briar found him there. “What are you doing, you idiot?” she asked.
“I belong here, don’t I?” Liam said. “Besides, you and I don’t like each other. This marriage is a prison sentence anyway.”
“Oh, spare me the drama,” Briar said, folding her arms across her chest. “You’ll make me regret what I just did.”
Liam eyed her suspiciously. “What did you do?”
“I just came back from having the Archcleric annul our marriage. You can leave.”
“What do you mean?”
“Clear the wax out of your ears, Liam the Blue. I’ve had our marriage annulled. It’s like it never happened. We’re not married anymore.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Why do you care? It’s done. Haven’t you ever heard that expression about gift horses? If someone gives you a horse, ride away on it fast before they can ask for it back.”
“What’s in it for you?” Liam asked.
Briar threw open the cell door (which had never been locked to begin with). “I’m done with you, sweetheart. You serve no purpose to me anymore. In fact, at this point, having you as a husband is only a negative. For one thing, you’re not very popular. And who knows? Someday I might meet a guy I actually want to spend time with. You know, as opposed to you. Whom I do not care for. At all. I just want to be clear on that point.” Briar was used to being worshipped—whether out of fear or false admiration—but lately she found herself wondering how it would feel to be liked. Or even loved.
“So get out of here,” she said. And with that she walked away.
“Wait,” Liam said. But Briar was already gone. And he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d wanted to say to her anyway. Over the past few weeks, there was nothing he’d wanted more than to have Briar out of his life. So now that she’d granted his wish, why did it feel so strangely bittersweet?
Don’t waste your time thinking about it, he told himself. Just go. Before she wants her gift horse back.
Dazed (but elated), Liam left the prison. He gathered a few things—a money pouch, his sword, a spare cape—and stepped out through the front gates of the palace into the early-summer sun. He couldn’t remain in Avondell, and he wasn’t going to return to Erinthia. He had no idea where he was going. But he was free.
29½
THE VILLAIN SHEDS A TEAR
Before you close this book, there’s one more set of events you should know about. But we need to jump back in time a little bit—to the moment the heroes were escaping on horseback through the front gate of the Wall of Secrecy and Deeb Rauber was victoriously addressing hundreds of stunned bandits on the drawbridge of his castle.
“All right,” Rauber said. “Who’s ready to listen to me now?”
As it turned out, not everyone in attendance was listening. As Rauber went into a long, grandiose speech about why he was the one true ruler of Rauberia, he didn’t notice three people silently slip away from the proceedings.
The first was Wrathgar, the dungeon keeper, who had emerged from the castle just in time to see Lord Rundark go underwater. Wrathgar went to the edge of the moat and peered in. Silently, he began walking along the water, looking down into the murk every few feet or so. Eventually, he turned the corner and went around to the side of the castle, out of view of the rest of the crowd.
Vero saw Wrathgar go and ducked off to follow him; and Madu, who had returned to human form, pulled the sword out of his foot and hopped along.
On the shadowy side of the castle, Wrathgar continued to stare into the moat. Finally he saw what he’d been searching for: a bubble. The enormous man got onto his knees and looked closer. More bubbles.
As Vero and Madu rounded the corner, they saw Wrathgar thrust his arm down into the dangerous waters and pluck out the mangled, eel-ravaged body of the Warlord of Dar. Rundark looked so terrible, it’s best you don’t even try to picture it. But if you really need to, think of your kitchen trash can the day after Thanksgiving.
Vero and Madu approached.
“Dead?” Madu asked.
“Might as well be,” Wrathgar replied. “There is a faint wheezing. Hear it? But it won’t last long. Even a man such as Lord Rundark cannot overcome this kind of damage.”
“Does that mean we all work for that kid now?” Madu asked, nauseated by the thought.
“Perhaps not,” Vero said. He reached into his vest and pulled out a small glass vial. “The Bandit King, he cannot command the respect of a real army. I have seen this now. But the Warlord, he is a different story, no? You asked me to choose whom I would follow. I have made my decision.”
He tipped the vial and poured Rapunzel’s tears onto Rundark’s body. With a low hum, the Warlord began to vibrate. His wounds closed up. His breathing stabilized. And he opened his eyes.
Lord Rundark saw the three faces hovering over him, and his lips peeled back into a wicked grin. He raised his right hand, which still had an eel clamped over it. He ripped the eel off and opened his fingers. In his palm sat a large glowing piece of orange jade.
Fig. 45
JJDG
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once again, heartfelt huzzahs to all those who aided me during the writing of this book. Thank you to my wonderful and talented wife, Noelle Howey—without your moral and editorial support, this story may never have made it to print. Thanks also to my biggest fans, Bryn and Dash—Bryn, your wise input is always welcome; Dash, I hope you appreciate that this sequel came much closer to featuring actual ninjas. Thanks to my insightful and ever-enthusiastic editor, Jordan Brown, as well as Kellie Celia, Deborah Kovacs, Casey McIntyre, and the rest of the wonderful crew at Walden Pond and HarperCollins. Thanks always to my tireless agent, Cheryl Pientka, and everyone at the Jill Grinberg Literary Agency—I’m so glad I’ve got you all in my corner. Thanks to Neil Sklar, Brad Barton, and Christine Howey—suggestions from each of you were essential to crafting this tale. Thanks also to my mom, dad, and brother—having you cheering me on means everything. I want to give a very special thanks to David Wagner, Erik Singer, Cori Lynn Peterson Campbell, and Lulu French, who gave virtuoso performances as Gustav, Frederic, Ella, and Zaubera (respectively) at the very first live staged reading of Hero’s Guide scenes—as well as Bronson Pinchot for his amazing turn as everybody in the audiobook. And a big, important thank you to Milo Ruggiero for coming up with the name Smimf, my favorite name in the whole series. I’d also love to thank every blogger who promoted Hero’s Guide and every reader who has recommended it—you’re all awesome! Finally, thank you, Todd Harris—I’m the luckiest author i
n the world to have you bringing my characters to life. Here’s to many future collaborations!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHRISTOPHER HEALY is the author of The Hero’s Guide to Saving Your Kingdom as well as a reviewer of children’s media. He lives with his wife and two children in New Jersey. You can find him online at www.christopherhealy.com.
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CREDITS
Cover art © 2013 by Todd Harris
Title lettering by David Coulson
Cover design by Amy Ryan
COPYRIGHT
Walden Pond Press is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
Walden Pond Press and the skipping stone logo are trademarks and registered trademarks of Walden Media, LLC.
THE HERO’S GUIDE TO STORMING THE CASTLE. Text copyright © 2013 by Christopher Healy. Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Todd Harris. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data.
Healy, Christopher, 1972-
The hero’s guide to storming the castle / by Christopher Healy ; with drawings by Todd Harris.—First edition.
p. cm.
Sequel to: The hero’s guide to saving your kingdom.
Summary: “The four princes erroneously dubbed by Prince Charming and rudely marginalized in their respective fairy tales have to once again save the kingdom from a great threat.”—Provided by publisher.
ISBN 978-0-06-211845-5 (hardcover bdgs)
EPub Edition March 2013 ISBN 9780062118479
[1. Fairy tales. 2. Princes—Fiction. 3. Heroes—Fiction. 4. Characters in literature—Fiction. 5. Humorous stories.] I. Harris, Todd, illustrator. II. Title.
PZ8.H345He 2013
2012050668
[Fic]—dc23
CIP
AC
13 14 15 16 17 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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Christopher Healy, The Hero's Guide to Storming the Castle
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