The Andy Smithson Series: Books 1, 2, and 3 (Young Adult Epic Fantasy Bundle) (Andy Smithson Series Boxset): Dragons, Serpents, Unicorns, Pegasus, Pixies, Trolls, Dwarfs, Knights and More!

by L. EE

  A fireplace popped and crackled at one end, casting dim shadows about the space. But with no other light, there was nothing for Andy to do. He removed his shoes and slipped between the abundant covers.

  Andy yawned, but his mind refused to quiet. His brain choked and sputtered as it attempted to process the events of this very, very strange day. How will I ever get back home?

  Chapter Three

  The King’s Taster

  A rooster awakened Andy the following morning. He knuckled sleep from his eyes, trying to orient himself. Foggy sun shone through a window to the left of his bed, struggling to illuminate the large stone-lined chamber. It wasn’t a dream.

  Like most other rooms he had been in the day before, this one was sparsely furnished. His bed stood in the middle of a long wall. At one end a dressing area had been arranged with a mirror, two freestanding closets, and a lumpy, overstuffed chair that looked like someone’s attempt to soften the otherwise spartan décor. At the other end stood the large fireplace. The fire had long gone out. The wooden door on the wall opposite his bed displayed the King’s blue coat of arms above it.

  A soft knock disturbed his study of the space and he slipped from between the warm covers. His bare feet hit the cold stone floor and sent a shiver up his back.

  “Please excuse me, sir. I was told to assist you in dressing and to bring you down to breakfast.”

  It was the boy with neon-green hair he’d seen yesterday.

  “Why do you call me sir?” Andy asked, allowing him entrance.

  “Because you are a guest of His Majesty.”

  “Just call me Andy, okay?”

  “Oh...okay. If that’s what you prefer, sir. Oh, I mean…uh, sure Andy.”

  They stepped over to the dressing area. To Andy’s surprise, a clean pair of blue jeans and a bright blue long-sleeved T-shirt lay neatly folded on the arm of the chair. The T-shirt had the intricate royal crest sewn on the left sleeve. It looked like both had been ironed for no wrinkles dared show themselves. He chuckled. Andy usually wore extremely wrinkled T-shirts because he hated folding and putting away his clean laundry, one of his assigned chores. Mom always complained his clothes made him look like he had slept in a laundry basket.

  “His Majesty had the tailor make these for you overnight so you would be most comfortable. The tailor will make you more today. I’ll hang them in your closets when they’re ready.”

  “Can the tailor make black T-shirts?” Andy hoped aloud. “Black is my favorite color.”

  “Black T-shirts are reserved for the King.”

  Oh well, it was worth asking. Andy only wore black T-shirts at home, preferring that to colors.

  “Please follow me,” the boy instructed after Andy finished dressing.

  “Thanks for helping me. I don’t think I could’ve remembered how to get back to the dining hall.”

  The boy smiled.

  “I can’t remember your name,” apologized Andy as they exited his chamber and headed toward the stairs.

  “My name is Alden.”

  “That’s right! Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to remember my name. I’m just a servant.”

  “But—”

  “Good morning, Andy!” boomed a voice, interrupting the conversation as they entered the dining hall. “Did you sleep well?” The King beckoned him over with a wave.

  “I’ll leave you to it then.” The boy bowed then turned.

  The hall looked different this morning. The three long tables had been shoved over by the wall and the black banners taken down. The colorful community banners had been moved and now draped the wall—the aqua banner was cleaner than he’d seen it last. Only what had been the head table remained. The King, again dressed in his black T-shirt and faded jeans, sat at one end with Mermin at the side closest to him.

  A short, bald servant with a beak-like nose and curiously long arms extending nearly to his ankles tasted the King’s breakfast.

  “Everything seems to be in order, Your Majesty,” the man finally declared. He bowed to the King, but as he turned to leave, he scowled at Andy.

  What? I didn’t do anything wrong!

  Andy took a seat across the table from Mermin. Immediately another servant brought him a bowl of Apple Jaxs, toast, and a tall glass of milk. How could they know that’s my favorite cereal? Where’d they get it from?

  “Yes, I had a feeling you’d like that, Andy,” the King intoned, then winked. “Mermin and I were just discussing how to get the Us Pus box working. Perhaps you can give us some insight.”

  Not used to being asked his opinion, let alone made to feel like he had any expertise to contribute, Andy stammered, “Uh, sure.” He bit into his toast. “But what’s an Us Pus box?”

  “After breakfast, let’s all go up to the laboratory. It’s up there.”

  When they’d eaten their fill, the three adjourned. As they walked Andy asked, “Have you figured out how to send me back home yet?”

  “Goodness no, not yet. What with the Curse Day Remembrance and everything else going on, we’ve not had any time to work on it. Don’t worry though, that is Mermin’s next task. I expect you will be home very shortly.”

  Somehow I doubt that. Andy bobbed his head, choosing to let it go…for now.

  They walked up to the fifth floor and into the laboratory, which had been cleaned up since yesterday. The tables had been righted, the broken beakers cleaned up, and the floor mopped. It smelled like lemon. Against the far wall stood Andy’s mailbox with the stones from its base in a loose arrangement.

  The King walked over and indicated with a flourish of his arm, “The Us Pus box.”

  “That’s my mailbox. You took it yesterday.”

  The King cleared his throat. Mermin raised a finger and objected, “We bowwowed it. We just want to see how it works.”

  “Why do you call it an Us Pus box?”

  “Because that’s what it says. See here? USPS.” The King pointed to the raised letters on the door.

  “Umm, USPS stands for United States Postal Service. It’s a mailbox.”

  “Can you show us how it works?” The King looked at Andy with hopeful eyes. “How do you get it to give you those papers?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mermin has been watching several…uh, mailboxes for me.”

  “Wait, you watch people’s mailboxes?”

  “Oh yes,” the wizard confirmed. “The King has me observe all sorts of things for him. I’ve observed pawades and carnivals, aiwplanes and cars and people—all sorts of things. Sometimes we bwing a book or something back to study further.”

  Or send trunks to people’s attics perhaps?

  “Yes, yes. I like observing people best. I once observed Steve Jobs. Fascinating guy. The King weally liked how he dwessed, so he started dwessing like him, too. He hoped Mr. Job’s cweativity might wub off on him. Took some doing to get the clothes just wight.” A smile tweaked his lips as he remembered.

  “As I was saying,” the King asserted, “he tells me papers magically appear in them. Sometimes there are thick picture books and other times there are thin papers inside…what do you call them? Envelopes, is it? Isn’t that what you call them, Mermin?” He looked to the wizard who nodded.

  “Mermin’s theory is that what appears is based upon how happy you are. The happier you are, the more magical papers appear. The less happy you are, the fewer papers you receive. Is that right?”

  “Uh, no.”

  For the next hour, Andy explained what he knew about the postal service and mail carriers. He cleared up the King’s misconception that the dogs that chased the mail carriers were sent by their masters to demand more magical mail be left for them.

  He also assured the King he would never receive any mail and pointed out tampering with the US Mail was a crime punishable by imprisonment.

  “Send it back, Mermin! Send it back!”

  The wizard attempted to reverse the settings of the Appearo Beam, but as
Andy had expected, his attempts failed. He did manage to suck a duck that had been innocently flying over the castle into the laboratory. It stood there, several feathers short, quacking its disgust until a servant came and chased it around the space, sending papers flying and beakers crashing. The servant finally cornered it and removed it to the kitchen. No sooner had that servant left than a kitchen servant apologetically interrupted, explaining lunch would be delayed because anything in or near the fireplaces had been inexplicably sucked up the chimneys by a great whirlwind.

  “Out of curiosity, why were you watching my mailbox?” Andy wondered, bringing the pair’s attention back.

  “We wanted to see if being on your mail route might bring us magical papers to help us figure out how to break the curse.”

  “But why my mailbox?”

  “It just happened to be one of the mailboxes I was observing,” replied the wizard.

  What a strange ‘coincidence.’ He observes my mailbox and I end up here.

  “Oh well, one less thing to try in breaking the curse,” the King reasoned as they headed down for a late lunch. “Mermin, I need you to keep trying to send that mailbox back. I don’t want to be imprisoned for taking it.”

  “Of course, Majesty.”

  Andy could only shake his head.

  The three governors from the surrounding communities had stayed overnight and now joined them for lunch. As with the previous evening, Andy saw their clothes were trimmed in crimson, yellow, and aqua, corresponding to the color of their community. They looked much better without cranberry sauce, squash, and mashed potatoes accenting their attire.

  The King informed, “This afternoon, the governors, Mermin, and I will be finishing up plans for the Oomaldee Festival that starts in a few days. After lunch, why don’t you explore the castle on your own. Just stay out of the dungeon, it’s dangerous.”

  Wow! He hardly knows me, yet he trusts me to explore on my own? That’d never happen at home. Andy bit his lip. I’m gonna stay out of trouble…

  “Okay,” Andy accepted. A corner of his mouth inched up but didn’t linger.

  As soon as Andy finished his lunch, he excused himself and set out to discover what secrets he might coax from the castle. He thought about checking out the trunk up in Mermin’s library, but the spiral stairs leading down from the dining hall beckoned. He decided to head that way first and investigate the trunk later.

  As he descended, the stairs broadened into a grand staircase that ended in a huge foyer across from an ornate door. The space was deserted.

  This must be the castle entrance, Andy reasoned, since all the guests from last night’s dinner came from this direction.

  Andy saw doors leading to rooms behind the staircase, but he decided to continue down another set of stairs he spotted behind and to the right. Reaching the next landing, he heard voices echoing down the corridor.

  A small servant girl who looked a little younger than he was halted hurried steps and inquired, “Are you lost?”

  “No, just exploring.”

  “Well, I’m Hannah,” she replied with a smile. Wisps of blond hair peeked out in several directions from under a blue headscarf. She attempted to straighten her blue dress that was wet in places. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I’m helping do laundry.”

  As they spoke, another servant paused on his way down the hallway. The tall, thin man wore a royal-blue tunic and bright green leggings, which Andy now recognized as the uniform for the King’s staff. The man’s face was gaunt and his pepper-gray, patchy whiskers gave him an unkempt look. He bent slightly back, attempting to ballast an oversize bundle of firewood with his chin. The stack shifted unstably. “You lost?” he grimaced, bobbling his arms, perspiration beading his brow.

  “No. I’m exploring the castle on my own since the King and Mermin are busy.”

  “These are the servants’ quarters. Nothing more to see down here other than the dungeons, and they’re dangerous, so don’t even think about exploring there.” The man fought the topmost log with his chin before adding, “Best get yourself back upstairs.”

  The dungeons, huh? So that’s where they are.

  “I better get going,” Hannah intoned. “See you around.”

  “Yeah, see ya,” replied Andy.

  The firewood refused to be controlled and made a bid for freedom, compelling the other servant to quickly excuse himself. Andy watched him wobble down the hallway. When the man vanished from sight, Andy glanced around. The two voices he had heard down the corridor had erupted into a full-blown argument. He closed his eyes and listened, and after a minute satisfied himself no one else was coming. He headed back to the stairs and started down.

  Better get a light, he thought, confronted by the darkness. He found a torch in the entry and lit it on an already glowing one, then returned, creeping down the remaining steps. A green mist greeted him along with the stench of rotten eggs that made his stomach flip. He batted the fog then plugged his nose with his free hand. This is worse than those cow farts.

  Undeterred, he moved the torch forward. In front of him stood a metal door with reinforcing bars running diagonally in both directions across its cold, gray surface and secured by metal rivets. A large dent on the door’s lower left looked like whatever was kept in the dungeon had punched it with a massive fist. Above the door hung a wooden sign with words carved in it. Andy stepped closer. The sign read, Fear Ye to Tread Here. Wisps of green vapor seeped from under the barrier. Cold fingers danced down Andy’s spine.

  Not having enough hands to plug his nose, hold the torch, and open the door, he retreated back to the stairs and up three steps, inhaled deeply, and held his breath. His fingers tingled as he approached the door once more. Gripping the frigid metal of the handle he pressed down. Locked.

  Darn. While his thoughts announced disappointment, his insides didn’t echo the sentiment. He took another swipe at the rancid green vapor then retreated back up the stairs. As he reached the servants’ quarters, Andy heard a soft thrumming emanating from the wall on his right.

  That’s weird. Machinery? Here? I didn’t hear anything before. The protests of creaking wood sounded from the entry hall above. Andy froze. Jubilant voices chased the strange sounds, then evaporated.

  He put his ear up to the stone wall as renewed creaking sounds reached him. Whoosh…whoosh…whoosh…whoosh. Definitely machinery. He felt along the length of the wall but found no opening. About to give up, he stepped on a stone and his foot sunk down. A six-foot section of the wall inched sideways to the sound of stone scraping stone. Andy winced, praying no one came to investigate.

  Whoosh…whoosh…whoosh…whoosh, the rhythm continued, now louder. Andy felt the wall and found the opening led into a second wall.

  How do I open it?

  A loud thud echoed down the stairs and the whooshing ceased. He searched for several more minutes, turning up exactly nothing. Approaching footsteps made him freeze.

  Crap! How am I going to explain?!

  A short, plump woman in a royal-blue dress, white apron, lime-green leggings, and bright purple ponytail noticed him standing with a torch in the shadows and said, “I’m Marta and this is the Drawbridge Power Room. It’s His Majesty’s and Mermin’s invention. It used to take six men to raise and lower the drawbridge. Now they use water power. It’s quite ingenious if you ask me. I have no idea how it works. I just know everyone was told to stay away from it, for safety reasons. By the way, welcome. Sounds like you have an interesting story to tell.”

  “Yeah. The King and Mermin are working out how to get me home.”

  “Well, why don’t you come with me. I’m headed up to the kitchen to help prepare dinner. I think there’s someone you might like to meet.”

  Andy exhaled in relief when she turned and started up without comment concerning his handiwork. He slipped on the damp stone floor as he turned to follow.

  Hmm, didn’t notice that before.

  She headed to the left behind the grand staircase and he follo
wed. The smell of baking bread emanated into the curving stone corridor.

  Mmm…

  As they entered the kitchen a second smell commingled with the first.

  “Are they making chocolate chip cookies?” His mouth watered.

  Marta grinned. “Your nose is very discerning.”

  A hive of activity met them. Servants washed and chopped vegetables at sinks along the far wall. Some made sweet desserts at a center island. At another workspace near the fireplace, others prepared freshly butchered chickens and what looked to be the duck that protested in the laboratory earlier. Andy saw Alden peeling potatoes at one of the sinks—he couldn’t miss the neon-green hair. Alden waved.

  “You know my son?”

  Andy laughed. “I figured you had to be related. You’re the only ones I’ve seen with such…such…bright hair.”

  The woman chuckled. “Alden and I fled from the land of Carta a few years back when King Abaddon attacked. My husband and the rest of my family were killed in the fighting. Most people in Oomaldee don’t like foreigners, but King Hercalon is a gracious and generous man and he took us in. We have served in his house since then.”

  “I’m sorry about your family.”

  Marta leaned forward and kissed him once on each cheek. “Thank you.” She paused, then brightened. “Would you like a chocolate chip cookie? They’re the King’s favorite. He tells me they might just be your favorite, too. Although I’m not sure if he told me that so I’d bake more for him.”

  Andy laughed. “Actually, he’s right, they are my favorite. Although my mom never makes them because she’s really busy…and she thinks they’re junk food.”

  “Junk food?” Marta cocked her head.

  “Food that’s not good for you.”

  The woman pushed back a stray purple strand, wrinkled her brow, and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

  Yeah, I guess they wouldn’t have junk food here.

  “I can’t wait to learn more about your home.” The woman immediately made Andy feel at ease. She was so different from his mom, who always seemed too tired or too busy for him.