How To Rescue A Dead Princess Part 3

"Pick it up, dagnabbit!"

Randall picked it up. The quivering increased. He crouched down and touched the crystal to the chain. It instantly dissolved right through the metal. Sir William stood up and s.n.a.t.c.hed the crystal out of Randall's grasp.

"Good work, squire," he said, taking a couple steps toward Princess Janice. "Ow! Charley horse!" He fell to his knees. Randall took the crystal, then went over and freed the princess.

"Thank you," she said, putting her arms around him. "You will be well-rewarded upon our return home."

Scar moaned and began to stir. "I'll handle this," said Princess Janice, approaching the fallen woman and prodding her with her toe.

Sir William gestured for Randall to bring the crystal over to him. Together they began to examine it. The glow was fading. "Fascinating," Sir William said. "Absolutely fascinating. I wonder what other powers it has?"

He ran his hand along the crystal. A huge beam of light shot from it, firing across the clearing and striking the princess in the back. She instantly exploded into flames and fell to the ground in a burning heap.

Chapter 4.

The Heroes Freak Out "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

Randall dropped the crystal. It fired another blast of light that narrowly missed Sir William and incinerated the tree that he'd been chained to.

They both rushed over to what was left of the princess. The flames abruptly vanished, revealing an extremely charred, blackened corpse.

"Maybe she's not dead!" Sir William insisted.

"Not dead? She's barbecue!"

"Check for a heartbeat!"

"I can see see her heart! It's not beating!" her heart! It's not beating!"

"Check it! Check it!"

Randall got down on his knees and rolled Scar out of the way. He pressed his hand against Princess Janice's chest and immediately pulled back. "Ow! That's hot!"

"Check it! Check it! Check it!"

"I'm gonna burn my hand off!"

"I don't care!"

Randall pressed down with his hand, wincing in pain. "Ooh! Ow! Ow! It's not beating. She's dead."

"Do that thing where you push on her chest a bunch of times to get her heart started!"

"My hands'll break right through her! She's history! We killed her!"

"Oh...fudge!" Sir William began to rapidly pace back and forth. "That's it, we're finished! The king is going to use our necks as horseshoe targets!"

"We're not going back to the castle, are we?"

"No way!"

Randall had never seen Sir William so badly shaken. Of course, given the circ.u.mstances, it was a tad understandable.

"No more knighthood for me. No more respect. No more 'Sir' before my name. No more late night skinny dipping parties. No more hair styling discounts. I'm ruined. Everything I've worked for all these years has been destroyed."

"It's probably not so thrilling for the princess, either," Randall pointed out.

Sir William sat down on the stump and buried his face in his hands. "We're fugitives," he moaned. "I've been reduced to a common criminal."

"That's not true," said Randall. "Common criminals won't have hundreds of people out trying to hunt them down like dogs."

Sir William began to weep.

"I guess you two have a problem," said Scar, sitting up. "Boy, I sure would hate to be you guys. Killing a princess? Whoa-mama! Looks like there's going to be some heinies in the kettle tonight."

Sir William looked up. "This is all your fault! I should rip you apart, epidermal layer by epidermal layer!"

"Really? That would put a damper on my willingness to help you guys, then."

"How could you help us? And as a follow-up question, why?"

"Well, let's consider your dilemma," Scar began. "Dead princess. Now, what's the obvious solution to that problem?"

"Make myself feel better by stomping the person who got us into this mess."

"Wrong. The solution is: Make it so the princess isn't dead. Bring her back to life."

"Oh, what a brilliant brilliant solution!" proclaimed Sir William. "I can't believe I let that one get by me!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the still-smoking corpse. "You heard the lady, rise and s.h.i.+ne! C'mon, it's time for wakeys!" solution!" proclaimed Sir William. "I can't believe I let that one get by me!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the still-smoking corpse. "You heard the lady, rise and s.h.i.+ne! C'mon, it's time for wakeys!"

"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 n.o.body 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!" "Eeep!" "Too hot!"

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 ma.s.sage 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?"

If she says "Awful", thought Sir William, I'm going to scream and run from room to room shrieking incoherent curses and expose myself to each and every man present then stretch my lips around the back of my neck and tie them together in a bow and then hop around as my eyes spin in wild circles and I make gargling noises until I go absolutely completely stark raving drooling babbling mad. I'm going to scream and run from room to room shrieking incoherent curses and expose myself to each and every man present then stretch my lips around the back of my neck and tie them together in a bow and then hop around as my eyes spin in wild circles and I make gargling noises until I go absolutely completely stark raving drooling babbling mad.

"Awful," Scar replied.

"Ha-ha!" Randall laughed.

Well, I guess even the oldest of jokes contain some contemporary humor value, Sir William decided. Sir William decided. That must be why they've survived so long. That must be why they've survived so long.

"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 really really don't think so." don't think so."

"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 pa.s.s 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."