The Hero's Guide to Being an Outlaw

by Christopher Healy

  The man was led away. But before the next person in line could speak, there was a burst of wind, and Smimf appeared. “Sorry to cut in line, sir, Your Highness, sir, but I have an urgent message for you.”

  Duncan and Snow read the letter as Smimf took off.

  “I suppose we should go to the Boarhound,” Snow said.

  Duncan furrowed his brow. “But I’m a king now,” he said. “I’m needed here, aren’t I?”

  “No!” shouted the people in line.

  “Well, I guess it’s settled then,” Duncan said. He and Snow stood up and began to walk out. “Mavis and Marvella, you’re in charge while we’re gone!”

  The twins clapped their hands and hopped into the thrones.

  “Who’s next?” asked Marvella. “No, wait. Who’s fifteenth?”

  “All requests must be made in song,” Mavis announced.

  “They’ll do fine,” Duncan said, nodding, as he and Snow left the castle.

  In his cozy log cabin in the northern hills of Avondell, Ruffian the Blue was propped up in bed with a book. He was relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that he had his hood down. And then Lila burst in, carrying a tray of food. She pulled the book from his hands—losing his place in the process, which made the old bounty hunter frown—and plopped the tray onto his lap.

  “Here you go, Ruff,” she said. “Eat up! You’ve got to get your strength back.”

  Ruffian squinted skeptically at the array before him. There were two blocks of cheese, a mug of well water, a roughly torn hunk of bread, four apples, a bowl of radishes, and a large onion.

  “What?” said Lila. “I don’t cook.”

  Ruffian put the tray aside. “Lila, I appreciate your desire to speed my recovery, but eating scads of raw radishes is not going to help,” he said. “Now, you may have provided a magical shot to my immune system, but I was probably no more than a few breaths from death by the time it kicked in. It is going to take a very long time for my body to overcome the effects of that venom. I may never get back to the shape I was in. In fact, my bounty hunting days may be over.”

  “Impossible!” Lila snapped. “You’re the best bounty hunter in the land!”

  “I was,” Ruffian said. “But now I think somebody else is.”

  Lila shuddered. “Ugh. Don’t tell me it’s Wiley Whitehair,” she said with disgust. “He can’t even sneak up on people because his skin crinkles so loudly.”

  “No, Lila,” Ruffian said in a monotone. “Not Whitehair.”

  Lila cocked her head. “Orangebeard, then? Yellow Tom? Beige Barney? Marvin the Maroon?”

  Ruffian gave her a deadpan stare. “Sometimes, young lady, I cannot even understand how you—”

  Lila cracked up laughing. “I’m just joshing with you, Ruff,” she said. “It’s me, right? I’m the best?”

  Ruffian let out a long, slow sigh. “Yes, Lila. It is you.”

  “Yes!” Lila crowed. She ran to the door of the cabin, threw her bag over her shoulder, and grabbed her quarterstaff. “So this means I get to go on missions by myself, right?” she called in to her bedridden mentor.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Great! First thing I’m going to do is—”

  “You are not going to try to find my daughter,” Ruffian said sternly.

  Lila walked back to his side. “But, Ruff,” she said, “if I can find her for you, you’d have somebody to love and to be proud of, somebody who could love you back and take care of you.”

  Ruffian said nothing in reply; he simply picked up the breakfast tray and placed it back on his lap.

  There was as knock on the door, and Lila answered it.

  “An urgent letter, Miss, Your Highness, Miss,” said Smimf.

  Lila opened the letter and read it. “Hey, Ruff,” she said. “I think I have my first assignment.”

  “Belly hurt,” Mr. Troll moaned. He lay on a long table under the shade of Rapunzel’s porch roof. He patted his long, green claws against his shaggy tummy.

  “Go ahead, Frederic,” said Rapunzel, who was standing nearby. “The patient’s a friend of yours; you can take the lead on this one.”

  “Um, well, yes, let’s see,” Frederic stammered as he strapped on an apron and pulled long gloves over his hands. “Have you eaten anything unusual today?”

  “Only carrots,” said the troll.

  “How many?” asked Deedle. He and Blink were hovering across the table from Frederic, waggling their antennae.

  “’Bout six hundred,” said the troll.

  “Well, I think we’ve gotten to the root of the problem,” Frederic said. He and Rapunzel chuckled. The sprites rolled their eyes.

  “Well, Mr. Troll,” Frederic continued, “I think you’ve simply eaten too much. If you—”

  Trumpets blared as ten armored soldiers approached on horseback, escorting a very ornate carriage. When the coach stopped, Frederic was surprised to see Reginald step out—but he was even more shocked to see who exited after the valet. “Father? You . . . you’ve left the palace?”

  “This is something I could not leave to a mere messenger,” King Wilberforce said as he approached and placed his hands on Frederic’s shoulders. “I am proud of you, Son. And I want you to know that all is forgiven . . . at least from my end.” There was a sadness and humility in his downcast eyes that Frederic had never seen before. “I want our family to be back together again.”

  “I forgive you, too, Father,” Frederic said. “And believe me, there is a huuuuuge part of me that misses life at the palace. But . . . well, hold on.” He turned to Rapunzel. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d come back to Harmonia with me.”

  “Oh, Frederic,” she said, her voice heavy with regret. “But my calling . . .”

  Frederic’s eyes lit up. “What if you could practice your healing arts in Harmonia? We have plenty of resources, you know. What if we promised to build you the biggest, most advanced clinic in the Thirteen Kingdoms? It could have all the latest medical technology: toadstool grinders, ointment spatulas, leeches—you name it. Really. I’m a prince—I might as well start taking advantage of it.”

  Rapunzel was stunned by the possibilities. “Well, that would certainly change things,” she said. “I could care for so many more people. And so much more effectively! And you and I could still be together! Oh, thank you, Frederic!”

  “Well, um, speaking of you and we— I mean me, we and me . . . No! Us,” Frederic stammered. Rapunzel raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, um, what I’m trying to say is . . . um, you make me happy. And happiness is good. So I was wondering if, maybe, it would be at all possible that, in addition to coming back to Harmonia with me and, you know, opening the clinic, if, well, maybe you’d like to marry me as well.”

  Rapunzel couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Now I see why they call you Prince Charming,” she said, her face aglow. “But, yes. Yes, of course I will, Frederic.”

  Frederic beamed. “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring,” he said. Mr. Troll grabbed Deedle and yanked off the sprite’s belt. He handed it to Frederic, who slipped it on Rapunzel’s finger.

  “Wait one moment,” King Wilberforce said, stepping up to the couple with a jingling of unearned medals. “Frederic, might I remind you of your position? You are of noble blood. Any bride you choose must be of the proper ilk.”

  “And . . . ?” Frederic said sternly, holding Rapunzel’s hand tightly as he stared directly into his father’s eyes.

  “And . . . ,” said King Wilberforce. He swallowed loudly. “And that is why I want to say: Welcome to the family, Miss Rapunzel.”

  Everyone present, including the soldiers, cheered. They hadn’t even noticed the sudden whipping wind as Smimf appeared.

  “Congratulations on your impending nuptials, sir, Your Highness, sir! I have an urgent message for you. Good-bye!”

  “What is it?” Rapunzel asked as Frederic read the letter that had been thrust into his hand.

  “Any chance you’d like to honeymoon at the Stumpy Boarhou
nd?”

  The thief slowly crept out of the window of the village hall, the solid gold town seal tucked neatly under his arm. He was completely unaware that Ella, Mistress of the Sword, was watching him from the roof of the house next door. As the thief made his way down the alley between the two buildings, she pounced.

  Unfortunately, Liam, who had been waiting in ambush just around the building’s corner, leapt out in his own attempt to intercept the thief. Ella’s boot connected with Liam’s jaw. He hit the wall, and she landed, ungracefully, on her back.

  “What are you doing here?” she snapped at Liam as she sat up.

  “What are you doing here?” Liam snapped back, holding his aching jaw.

  They both laughed.

  “How long are we going to keep doing this?” Ella asked, standing up.

  “I don’t know. It is kind of silly, isn’t it?”

  “Do you think it’s time . . .”

  “Time we gave our partnership another try?”

  They shook hands. And their hands stayed clasped together a bit longer than most people’s do when they’re just shaking hands.

  “Oh, no,” Ella said with sudden urgency. “The thief!”

  The man who’d stolen the town seal was almost two blocks away already. They took off after him. “He’s heading toward the old mill,” Liam said as they ran.

  “Keep him moving in that direction,” Ella said. “I know a quick way around.” Liam nodded, and they split up.

  Running at top speed, Liam gained ground on the crook and chased him along the side of a creaky old watermill. At the corner of the mill, Ella jumped out and surprised him. He was trapped. Ella bopped him on the head.

  “That worked rather nicely,” she said.

  “Indeed it did,” Liam replied. “Partner.”

  They were halfway finished tying up the thief when—WHOOSH! Smimf.

  “This place looks amazing,” Jerica said as she stood outside the Stumpy Boarhound. “Why didn’t you take me here sooner?”

  Gustav chuckled and reached for the door as Frederic and Rapunzel came up the block.

  “Gustav!” Frederic called. “We’re getting married!”

  “Tassels! That’s awesome!”

  “Hello, friends of King Duncan!” came a cry from down the alleyway. Duncan and Snow ran up to join them. Ella and Liam were not far behind.

  “Ho, there, brother!” Lila chirped, leaping down from a nearby rooftop.

  “Um, hey,” said Liam. “Nice to see you all, but what’s the emergency?”

  “We don’t know,” said Frederic. “None of us has been inside yet.”

  Gustav opened the door, and they all stepped into the tavern.

  Something was wrong. There were no shouted curses, no sounds of plates shattering over someone’s head. It was quiet. And virtually empty.

  Liam looked to Ripsnard, who was spit-shining wine glasses behind the bar. The tavern keeper smiled at him warmly. “Hey, League o’ Princes,” he said.

  “Where is everybody?” Liam asked.

  “I kicked ’em all out,” Ripsnard replied.

  “Why?” Frederic asked.

  “Because I paid him to” came the reply from across the room. All heads turned toward the Official League Founding Table in the far corner, where Briar Rose sat in candlelight, tenting her fingers deviously. “It’s not like this place has a private room, so I decided to make the whole tavern private. Come, sit down. And pull up some extra chairs—there are more of you than I expected.”

  The whole gang moved toward the back table. Some sat down immediately, while others, like Lila and Gustav, did so a bit more cautiously. Ella remained standing.

  “Come, come, now,” Briar said. “I don’t bite. Much.” She flashed a sly grin.

  “It’s okay, Ella,” said another voice. Val stepped out of a shadowy corner to stand behind Briar.

  “Val,” Ella said, shocked. “How did you get involved with all this . . . whatever this is?”

  “I have a new job,” Val said with pride. “I’m the princess’s bodyguard.”

  “Princess.” Rapunzel repeated the word to herself. “Wow, I guess I’m going to be a princess now, too. That’s going to take a lot of getting used to.”

  “You’ll fit right in at the palace,” said Frederic. “Everybody there likes turnips.”

  “Maybe I can cook up a big pot of soup as a peace offering to your dad when I move in,” Rapunzel added.

  “I’m a queen,” said Snow. “I can move in any direction I want.”

  “And I’m a king,” said Duncan, “But I’m still King King’s son, so does that means I’m also a prince? Maybe I’m a pring. Or a—”

  “Quiet,” Liam said—and everybody instantly stopped talking. “In retrospect, I am so happy I made that wish. Now, Briar, why did you summon us all here? What’s so urgent?”

  “Well,” said Briar, tapping her gloved fingers on the table. “I suppose it’s not all that urgent. But, hey, it’s me—I like drama.”

  “So this was all some sort of joke?” Gustav grunted.

  “Oh, no, darling. I am always serious. Deadly serious,” Briar said. And then she laughed. “Just shut up and listen. I’ve learned of this beast—a colossal, hairy brute—who’s been kidnapping people and dragging them off to some old castle in Carpagia. He claims to be some sort of ‘cursed prince’ looking to retake his rightful place on the throne, but I’m not buying it. “

  “And why exactly are you telling us this story?” Liam asked.

  “Ha! And you call yourselves heroes,” she scoffed. “Someone needs to stop the beast. And it sounds like a job for us.”

  “Us?” ten voices asked at once.

  “Yes, us. The League,” Briar said. She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “So are you in?”

  Glances were exchanged around the table. There were some uneasy winces, a couple of ambivalent shrugs, a few determined nods, and one delighted giggle (but only because Duncan had spotted another funny caterpillar).

  “Well?” Briar asked impatiently.

  I think you can guess the response.

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to Noelle, my greatest source of support in both life and art. Thank you to Bryn (a.k.a. the real Lila), the strongest, bravest girl I know. Thanks to Dash, whose own talents continue to stun and awe me every day. Thanks to my ever-present, ever-ready, and ever-helpful agent, Cheryl Pientka, and the whole crew at the Jill Grinberg Literary Agency. Thanks to my awesomely skilled editor, Jordan Brown, for trusting me, nurturing my vision, and helping me bring the Thirteen Kingdoms to life. Thanks to Kellie Celia and Debbie Kovacs at Walden Media, my guides through this crazy world of authorship since the very beginning. Thanks to Casey McIntyre and Caroline Sun at HarperCollins for getting the word out. Thanks to Amy Ryan and her crew for helping me present my stories to the world in such a beautiful package. And on that note, I must also once again thank Todd Harris for the incredible illustrations—Todd, your imagination knows no bounds.

  Thanks to the trusted friends whose early input was crucial to honing this manuscript (you know who you are). Thanks to all the bloggers, booksellers, teachers, and librarians who continue to support me and my work. Thanks to all the wonderful readers who have posted online about the Hero’s Guides, recommended the series to their friends, asked their school libraries to stock the books, and even hosted Hero’s Guide–themed birthday parties (Hi, Lilly!). And a ginormous thank-you to the many friends, family members, neighbors, colleagues, and kindhearted strangers who came to our aid during a time of personal crisis—you are all heroes to me.

  BACK AD

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHRISTOPHER HEALY is the author of The Hero’s Guide to Saving Your Kingdom, which the New York Times selected as one of its best books of the year, calling it “charming—a quest that recalls at moments the Musketeers and at others the Marxes”; as well as its sequel, The Hero’s Guide to Storming the Castle, whic
h Publishers Weekly hailed as “uproariously funny” in a starred review. He is also a reviewer of children’s media. Chris lives with his wife and two children in New Jersey. You can find him online at www.christopherhealy.com.

  Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors and artists.

  BOOKS BY CHRISTOPHER HEALY

  THE HERO’S GUIDES

  Book 1: The Hero’s Guide to Saving Your Kingdom

  Book 2: The Hero’s Guide to Storming the Castle

  Book 3: The Hero’s Guide to Being an Outlaw

  CREDITS

  Cover art © 2014 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 BEING AN OUTLAW

  Text copyright © 2014 by Christopher Healy

  Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Todd Harris

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  www.harpercollinschildrens.com

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  ISBN 978-0-06-211848-6 (trade bdg.)

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  EPub Edition © APRIL 2014 ISBN: 9780062118509