“I don't believe I'm doing this,” Charles whined. He couldn't see three feet in front of his face. He also couldn't see his face...or any part of his body. He knew the others were in the garden, but he couldn't see them, either. He couldn't see anything besides the usual flowers, trees, and grass on the summer side. “Richard, Marcia, where are you?”
“Right here.” Richard's sword lifted on its own and poked him in the back. “I can see you, anyway.”
“He can't see things normally.” Brett's croak grumbled from behind a rose bush. “Ow! Oh darn, these things bit me! Where's Bill and Gene?”
Gene's wand poked out of the branches of a pear tree and waved on its own. “Bill's inside. Says he'll be the last line of defense if they make it in.”
“Last line of defense, my rear end,” Marcia snapped next to Brett. “For a wolf, he's a damn chicken. And Brett, you really shouldn't be here. You're still not one hundred percent up to par.”
The rose bush shook indignantly. “I'm fine! My magic's working as well as it ever did!”
“Shh!” Richard's bow waved. “I hear horse hooves beyond the wall.” His sword pointed upwards, towards the sharp blue sky. “And there's the same buzzing we heard in Hans-by-the-Sea.”
The metal gates blasted open at the same time the trolls landed in the flower beds. “Search the area, men!” Ira came in driving his hubcap-less carriage, followed by twenty men on horseback. “Anyone you see, clap them in irons and bring them to me.”
One of the trolls tapped him on the shoulder. “What...about us?”
“Whew!” Ira stepped back. “First of all, lay off the pickles and dead ox sandwiches. I can smell your breath from Hogan Manor. Second, go make noise. Uproot trees. Break things inside. Residents saw a wolf with a balding spot in the area, running around and howling like a banshee. If you see anything that even remotely resembles a dog, bring it to me.”
He shoved the hulking creature towards the front door. “Just don't do it near me!” The Sheriff made a face as his hairy minions stumbled over each other on their way to the door. “Wish Malade would either turn them back or scrub them down. They give me the willies and smell like a garbage dump. Why do we need them, anyway? My own men do the job more than well.”
“All right,” Richard whispered to Charles. “As soon as he gets close, follow me.” He stood so close to him, he could smell his sweat and the earthiness of the forest. The minstrel grabbed the tree trunk just to keep his knees from buckling.
“What's that?” One of Ira's men rattled over to him in heavy chain mail. “Sheriff, I don't like this. I heard this place is haunted.”
“Yeah, Mr. Sheriff.” Another man, taller and with broader shoulders, clanked as he shoved branches aside. “I swear I hear voices, but there ain't no one here.”
“They say,” added a smaller man in an orange and yellow uniform, “that everyone who lived here just...disappeared. Vanished. Poofed!” He flung his arms out. “Went out like a candle.”
“You guys hear too many stories.” Ira made a face as Richard quickly tapped him on the shoulder. “Ok, which one of you clowns touched me?”
“Boss, we didn't touch you!” The man in the chain armor jumped back. “Oooh, I knew it! This place is haunted! There's spooks everywhere!”
Richard took Charles' arm. “Ok, everyone,” he whispered to the bushes. “On my word. One...two...” With “THREE!” he leaped out of the tree and onto Ira!
Charles never saw anything like it. Rakes and garden shears poked the guards in the back, without anyone moving them. Richard's arrows soared from a bow that hovered in mid-air. Guards landed on their metal-covered faces after being tackled by empty air. Charles alternated between playing his lute and smacking trolls back with it. Gene's wand waved on its own, wrapping trolls in flower garlands and knocking guards onto each other until they were one big pile of shiny metal.
“Brett,” Charles puffed, “are you sure you're up to this? You've been really spacey since that old woman attacked you yesterday. You wouldn't touch breakfast.”
“Stop fussing. I'm fine.” No sooner did she speak than the trees in back of her reached for trolls, shaking them until their fangs rattled. Rose bushes wrapped their branches around other Ira's men, jabbing them until they yelled. “I know what I'm doing.”
Marcia's blue light flung the trolls into the snow on the other side of the garden and rolled them into snowmen. “Aw, go blow it out your ear, you giant flying leather bags!” She punched a big, hairy lout who tried grabbing her bosoms. “Touch me there again, and that fist will go into a place a lot more personal than that giant ham that passes for a nose!”
Ira swung his sword, just missing Richard. “Damn it, Robin Hood, where are you? I smell your trickery all over this!”
Swords clanged as a shorter one lifted in mid-air to meet his. “What did your mistress do to Prince William and his servants?” Richard shoved into Ira, enough to get him on the ground and thrust his foot into his chest. “And what do you want with the Beast? He's done no harm to anyone. Poor thing should be left in peace.”
“First of all, I have no idea what happened to Prince William. We got reports that the Beast's been howling and scaring the hell out of people in the area again.” Ira waved his sword at Richard, but it slid into the ground instead. “Damn it!” He glared at the bobbing sword to his right. “I wish my boss would stop messing around with magic and use all that money for something besides her wardrobe. People are pissed off, and I can't blame them. If she keeps turning her subjects into stone and animals, she'll be ruling an empty rock!”
One of the trolls grabbed a wheelbarrow from an unseen gardener. “I'll deal...with this. You...help...the others.” He grinned at the bow. “Oh what the...hell. Don't care...what she does to me. I know...those arrows. Boss? Boss...where are you?”
“Orson!” Richard's bow waved seemingly on its own. “We're right here. We could use your help. None of us have your shoulders, so to speak.”
“Ira, knock it off.” Marcia's voice dripped with disgust as her blue light writhed around him, lifting him and Richard's foot off the ground. “I have half a mind to dump you in the nearest compost heap. You're really a pain in the neck, do you know that?”
“Marcia?” Twisting his neck around only left him with sore neck muscles. “Where are you, my sweet? And could you please put me down? I'm starting to get dizzy up here!” The lights dropped him on the grass a lot more roughly than they probably should have.
Gene's wand waved on its own. “We need to get him out of here. She's coming.”
“He's right.” Brett's green light shivered in the flower beds. “I'm so damn nauseous. She's back.”
“Ahh, daughter.” Malade's purr echoed around both sides of the garden. “How well you know me. I had to join the party! Why let my minions have all the fun?” When the swirl of black magic dissipated, it revealed the violet-eyed sorceress in a clingy gown of dark gold. Black roses dripped down the pleated gold skirt and emphasized a bosom that showed just enough cleavage to distract Ira. “Sheriff...” she sniffed at the trolls... “and monsters, allow me to reveal your 'ghosts.'”
No sooner did she raise her arms in the rose-trimmed sleeves than black light surrounded them. Charles gasped as it smothered his throat, coated his skin and lungs, and made it difficult to breathe.
When the light vanished, he could see his own body standing next to Brett's. Brett faded in next, her arms around her chest. Gene waved his wand, but the black light twisted his silver magic until it vanished. Richard's sweaty tanned arms held the sword steady on Ira's throat as Marcia's blue magic held him in the air. He barely remembered to pull up his hood before Malade's arrival.
“You may have ended that spell,” Gene fumed as he emerged from the tree, “but you're not going to get your hands on us...or the Beast, for that matter.”
“Bill?” Marcia rolled her eyes. “Bill isn't a Beast. He's a wolf. And if he is a Beast, he's the most nervous Beast in the kingdoms. He won't even let anyone put a collar on him.”
“Enough of this!” Malade snarled. “Sheriff, I want you to arrest the minstrel and the wizard. I'll take care of the others.”
Ira frowned. “Your Majesty, I wanted to marry Princess Marcia, not turn her into a toad.”
“You may still get a chance to marry her.” Malade smirked, chucking Richard's chin under his hood. “I have my own...interests. But right now, we need to take the Beast.”
Gene glared at her. “You'll do no such thing,” he growled. “He has enough problems!” He waved his wand...but the silver light turned the wicked queen's dress and hair cotton candy pink. “I guess my magic still isn't quite working right,” he admitted with a grin. “Though you do look delicious like that, my dear.”
Everyone around her snickered. “You look good enough to eat!” Brett added with a smirk.
Malade's furious tomato face clashed badly with her pastel hair and dress. “Stop that! Stop that laughing! I order you!”
“I think that's...our cue.” Orson grunted as he scooped Brett and Charles into the wheelbarrow. “Boss...on my back. We're getting...out of here...before Malade...recovers!” Richard raised an eyebrow and did as he was told.
Marcia raised an eyebrow at the wheelbarrow. “I don't think there's enough room in that thing for Gene and me. We'll take a different route.” She and Gene vanished in a blue light before Malade could hit them with one of her black ones. “We'll get Bill. You hold Malade off!” her voice trailed in a soft blue light.
“Right, miss.” Orson gave them one of his wide, toothy grins. “Ok...all aboard...the troll express!” He ran in full-steam, ramming through trolls, guards, and servants alike. He got as far as the door before it slammed shut and the bolt fell down, blocking their exit.
“Nice try.” Malade waved her hand, restoring her hair and gown to their original black and gold dimness. “You're not going anywhere.”
“Bad idea!” Richard yelped as he nudged Orson. “Other way!”
Orson blazed in the other direction, plowing straight back into the Summer Garden. “Watch out!” Brett shrieked as a black and gold raven soared over their head. “Bitchy stepmother dead ahead!”
Charles gulped. “I wish you hadn't used the 'd' word.”
Malade landed in a burst of fire and sparks that melted the snow for at least five feet around her. “Orson, hard right!” Richard wailed. Orson did turn the wheelbarrow around, but Malade threw fireballs in their direction.
“Would you knock it off, Stepmother?” Brett growled from the wheelbarrow. “What are you trying to do, burn the entire garden down?”
Charles whimpered and curled into the wheelbarrow. “Please don't encourage her!”
“Hey boss lady!” Ira and his remaining guards followed the path through the snow. “Thanks for doing the shoveling for us! Now we won't have any problems doing...” He threw a rock in Orson's direction. “This!”
The rock glanced off his shoulder, but it created enough of a distraction for him to run into a tree. Brett and Charles tumbled out; Richard fell off his back and landed on the frozen ground with a hard thud. “Sorry...boss.” Orson rubbed his shoulder. “Didn't mean...to lose you guys...like that...”
“That's all right, Orson. It's not your fault,” Richard grumbled as he slid his sword out of its scabbard and pointed it in Ira's direction. “I'm aware of who's to blame.”
“Would you cut it out?” Ira glared at him. “I have to bring you in. It's my job. Mr. Hairy over there, too, the minstrel nerd, and the Beast, wherever he is.”
“No!” His “boss lady” screeched. “I want Robin Hood! Bring him to me!”
Charles stepped back, trying to avoid the fire and the trolls. “There's only one thing I can do.” He strummed “Been a Long Day” on his lute as loudly as he possibly could. “Brett! Get out of here! Go get help!”
“Arrgh!” Malade threw her hands over her ears. “Trolls! Guards! Stop him! Get rid of that lute! I order you!”
“Charles!” Brett started towards him, but one of the trolls grabbed her from behind. “Let me down, you overgrown apes!”
“Sorry...Snow White.” Sir Gautier gave her his sharp toothpaste smile as he swung her into his hairy arms. “We must obey...the queen.”
“Brett!” Richard growled when he saw the dark brown troll throw her over his shoulder. “Dick, put her down!” He started towards her, but didn't see Malade shoot a dark light at his back. She dragged him to her, ignoring his struggles. “Oh...” Sharp blood red talons roamed under his tunic. “Oh my, you are very energetic, aren't you? Energetic and beautiful. I could give you whatever you want. You could have jewels, fine clothes, all the money in the world...”
“No!” Charles launched into a funky instrumental tune that seemed very familiar. “Don't you dare! He's not your plaything!”
Malade glared at him, Richard writhing wildly as the black light sizzled. “Boys,” she waved a hand at the trolls who stumbled into the garden, “get that...that instrument,” she hissed in fury “away from that little pain in the neck!”
Charles nearly tripped over his feet trying to flee, but he had nowhere to go. Flames licked against the wall of the castle as buckets of snow and water flung themselves against it. “Stop it!” he whimpered helplessly. Desperate fingers felt around for something solid to keep him from fainting. “Please...” As if in response, the sizzling flames roared higher, towering over his head. “Please!” the minstrel begged in horror. “Fire...I'm afraid of fire!”
“Leave him alone!” Richard growled as he managed to kick at Malade's leg. “It's me you want, not him!”
“Owww!” She dropped him briefly to rub her tender knee. “You'll regret that, Robin Hood!” The sorceress yanked him onto his toes, until their lips met. Black light writhed around Richard, forcing him to his knees. Tanned skin wrinkled and cracked; bones grew sharper. Black hair under the hood whitened and frizzled as he gasped in shock.
She'd thrown him aside as a boom rattled the castle and reduced the front door to splinters. “I wasn't trying to do that!” Gene coughed hard, waving his wand to dispel the dust. “I meant to break it open, not blow it five kingdoms over!”
“Well, it worked, didn't it?” Marcia waved away the smoke with one hand and tugged Bill along by the scruff of his neck with the other. “Would you stop being a cub? There's people dying out here, and you're dragging your paws!”
“Couldn't we do this inside?” Bill whined. “I don't want to end up on the wrong end of a leash! She wanted to use my nose to do her dirty work! I can do my own dirty work! Or even clean work. I'm not going back with her, and she can't make me. I'm staying right here.”
“G...Gene!” Charles' voice quavered as the flames licked closer. “Little help here!”
For every three trolls Marcia slammed into trees, two more rushed at those who remained. “Let...me...handle them!” Orson easily tossed two trolls into a snowbank. “Go...help Charles! He looks like he's going...to pass out.”
Malade zapped Dick's fuzzy rear with one of her fire beams. “Take Brett and the wolf to Password Palace and toss them in the basement with her noisy brats.” Narrowed eyes bored holes into his fur. “Remember what will happen to Sir Walden and your troops if you disobey. He could meet with broken wings or claws, or many far more unpleasant things.”
“Dick, what are you doing?” Brett croaked wearily as he scooped her into his arms. “Dick, put me down. You know this isn't you. It's her.”
“I'm sorry...Your Highness.” His handsome hairy face fell, but he didn't let her go. “I have to obey my queen...and it's not you anymore. She'll hurt my men.” Big beefy hands went over her mouth, muffling her pleas. “Please stop that, Your Highness. You'll scare the birds.”
Gene screamed at the top of his lungs at the troll as he took off. “Sir Gautier, come back here! You're fired!” Leathery wings ably avoided his bursts of gold light. “You idiot! Get down here now!”
“Brett! Dick!” Charles wailed helplessly as two of his best friends vanished over the flames. “Oh gods,” he groaned. “Maybe I could...” Focusing on it did no good. It ignored his attempts to dump snow on them and rose even higher.
“My roses!” Bill yelped as he dashed over to the flames. “I can't...they'll burn! Malade, don't destroy them! They're all I have left!” He tried to blow on them, then fan the flames away with his tail. His efforts only made them rise higher.
Silver magic swirled around the snow, shoveling it onto the flames. “I'll handle them,” Gene insisted. “The rest of you deal with her!”
“Oh no, you don't!” Malade grabbed Bill by his furry throat. “Ahh, more energy. I could just drain you a tiny bit. Might make you more likely to obey your new mistress, little wolf.”
Marcia rolled her eyes. “Look, if you let him and Charlie go, I'll marry that jerk.” She pointed at Sheriff Ira, whose hand stretched to remove Richard's hood as she spoke.
“You mean that?” Ira slithered to her side in an instant with a grin that nearly split his face. “Really?”
She sighed. “Yes. I'll do whatever you want. I'll give her my magic. Those roses mean the world to Bill, and Charlie's scared to death.”
Malade purred, her wide white smile resembling a very satisfied cat. “Of course, my dear.” Strong leather ropes and a muzzle appeared in her fingers in a dark light. “Now, Your Highness,” she chuckled softly, “I told you it would be impossible for a woman to love you. You,” she murmured into his ear, “are nothing but a dog.”
“I...” He whimpered, tears soaking his brown fur, “no...please, I'm not. I'm not a dog! Marcia! MAR...” Two trolls forced the leather around his neck and over his head, clamping his jaws shut and cutting off his cries. The largest troll bound his limbs with the leather cord and carried him off after Sir Gautier.
“No! Bill!” Marcia started towards them, but Ira grabbed her arm and shoved her at Malade. “That wasn't part of the deal!” she snarled.
“I don't care about him,” Malade hissed as she shoved her hand against Marcia's forehead. “I just want your magic, dear,” Blue light jumped, twisting into Malade as she chanted strange, throaty words Charles couldn't begin to understand. Gene rushed towards her, but her two remaining trolls blocked him.
She barely bleated a scream before the black light fluttered around her eyes, stroking her forehead and whispering in her ear. “W...will...” she croaked before fainting into Ira's waiting arms.
He pressed her closer to his skinny chest. “Your Majesty, what did you do to her?”
“I know what she did.” Gene gritted his teeth and clenched his wand so hard, his knuckles turned white. “She cast the spell of Eternal Sleep on Marcia. If her true love doesn't kiss her within two weeks, she'll be out for a hundred years.”
“Well,” Ira grinned, “I like that. Thanks for the opportunity!” He gave her a sloppy and passionate kiss...but it did nothing. Marcia never stirred. “Marcia darling?” His lips met hers again...and still no reaction. She remained limp in his arms.
“What do you know?” Gene snickered. “You're not her true love, Ira.”
“She doesn't love you!” Charles shrieked as the flames crackled around him. “She loves Bill, and you sent him off with those walking sides of beef! You don't understand love! You can't! Your so-called boss doesn't understand love! She's nothing but an ugly bitch!” His fingers strummed his lute as he opened his mouth to sing.
The first few notes of “Been a Long Day” died in his throat the moment black light slammed into him. He swore he saw more stars swimming in front of his glasses than there were at MGM during his childhood. The moment he hit the ground, he lost hold of his lute. It flew out of his hands...and into Malade's as she walked through the fire.
“I understand love!” Ira grumbled beyond the flames. “I don't like this, either! I don't want my wife to be out until I'm a hundred and twenty nine!”
“Forty nine, Ira,” muttered Malade as she rolled her eyes. “As for you, musician,” she hissed, “you have no magic, no strength, no royal title. You're a little nothing minstrel with nothing songs...and now, you're not even that!” She flung the lute into the rising flames.
“No! Stop!” He thoughtlessly reached into the fire to retrieve the remains of his instrument...only to jump back, clutching his blackened fingers. “I...my lute...I'm...I'm not a magician...” Sobbing as the instrument burned into ashes, he fell to his knees. “I'm not a magician. I'm not a warrior. I'm a performer. I never asked for this!”
Silver light swirled around the flames, parting them long enough for Gene and Orson to quickly rush to Charles' aid. “Mr. Wizard...can we get out of here?” The lanky troll winced as he adjusted Richard's inert body on his back. “Boss...may be short...but he isn't light!”
Gene glared daggers at Malade as he wrapped strips of his cloak around Charles' blistering hand. “We'll deal with you another time.” The last thing Charles remembered before he passed out was Gene raising his wand and them being engulfed by brilliant silver light.
No comments:
Post a Comment