How to Rescue a Dead Princess

by Jeff Strand

  Within the hut, there was a crash as something shattered. "Go away!" screamed a man from inside. "I'll throw another plate at you! I mean it! And this one won't hit my ceiling!"

  "Who are you?" Randall asked.

  "Thank goodness!" said the man. "You can't be part of the marauders. They would never take such an interest in my personal life." The front door opened, and the man stepped out. He was middle-aged and fairly nondescript, except for his face, which was somewhat descript but not all that much. "My name is Toby. Do you see what they've done to this place?"

  "Tell us what happened," said Randall.

  "It was horrible! Horrible, I say! Horrible, I say again! There were ten dozen of them! Men in black armor, with really creepy pictures carved on their helmets! They marched down our main street, then one of them demanded that we surrender to the Dark One. But Frank, this really dumb guy who'd been sucking down ale since nine in the morning, said no. So they began ravaging our town! They goosed our women! They gave noogies to our men! And there was nothing I could do. They gave my brother a charley horse while I watched, helpless."

  Yvonne wiped a tear from her eye. "And then what?"

  "And then..." Toby's voice cracked, "...they started with the wedgies."

  "Fiends!" said Jack.

  "They've taken everyone away," said Toby. "I only escaped by pretending to be an incredibly realistic, self-moving mannequin with a pulse. I've lost almost everything! I can only be thankful that my edge-to-edge rapid transportation service remained unharmed."

  "Oh, speaking of transportation," said Randall, "we're looking for a magician that could take us to the Mountain of Rock. Do you know of one who lives in this region?"

  "Nope," said Toby. "The magicians in this area tend to be pretty amateurish--bunnies from hats, dvorkins from ears, tumors from brains...you know, useless stuff. I've transported people just about everywhere in this land, and met lots of magicians, and I'd say that your best shot is the wizard Valeman, who lives about a three-day walk from here."

  "Valeman, huh? Never heard of him."

  "Well, there is kind of a problem in that he won't transport anyone who doesn't weigh exactly one hundred and seventy-eight pounds, which I don't think any of you do."

  Randall sighed. "He can't be all that great of a magician if he can only handle exactly one hundred and seventy-eight pounds."

  "Actually, it's a personal choice. He's very odd."

  "Any other recommendations?"

  "Not that I can think of off the top of my head. Really, all the good magicians are far from here."

  "Could you think harder? We really, really need a way to get to the Mountain of Rock."

  "What's so special about the Mountain of Rock? I've taken people there dozens of times and didn't see anything worth visiting."

  "It's kind of a long story."

  "Then forget it. Long stories are boring." Toby had a sudden thought. "Hey, there is a wizard up there on the Mountain of Rock, now that I think of it. If you guys want, I'll take you up there to see him."

  "That would be nice," said Randall, "but we don't want to be a bother."

  "Oh, well, I guess you have a good point there," Toby agreed. "Ah, what the heck? I'll take you anyway, and since I'm such a great guy I'll only add ten percent to my fee for your lack of two weeks' notice."

  "The fee could be a problem," said Randall. "As we're all pretty much broke."

  "I must say, your mental grasp upon what could be a problem is surprisingly accurate."

  "And, let's face it," said Randall. "The Mountain of Rock is pretty far to travel just to find a magician to teleport us to the Mountain of Rock."

  "That it is. I wish you all luck in your endeavors."

  They started down the street again, but had gone no more than five steps before Toby's belt began beeping. He groaned and gave it a light tap, shutting it off. "That better not be my mom," he said. "She's always calling me on this thing, asking if I'm eating three square meals a day, bugging me about getting married to this really young lady with zits on her lips." He removed the belt buckle and glanced at the magically luminous number that flashed upon it. "Oh, hey, it's one of my clients!"

  As Randall and the other watched, Toby took a small golden device out of his pocket, punched in some numbers, and spoke into one end. "Rowder? Toby. Yeah...yeah...yeah...yeah...yeah... yeah...yeah...yeah... cool." He put the device back into his pocket. "Hey, I've got good news for you people!"

  "Let's hear that first," said Yvonne.

  "This guy Rowder just called from the Mountain of Rock, said he wants me to pick him up. If you're willing to provide some political debate along the way, I'd be happy to give you a lift for free."

  "That's fantastic!" said Randall.

  "One thing, you'd have to leave the bug here. I don't transport insects."

  "But that's prejudiced," Yvonne told him.

  Toby's eyes widened. "Gosh, you're right! I'm a bigot! Wow, looks like it's time for some serious changes in my value system, huh? Sure, bring the bug along. Follow me, everybody--our chariot awaits!"

  THEIR CHARIOT was similar in concept to a boat. One that would spontaneously combust upon touching water and turn the occupants into squid chow. Basically, it was a strip of iron, upon which were eight seats. These seats were fitted with straps with which to restrain hand and foot movement, and were spotted with dried blood. Toby stepped up onto the framework and began turning the handle of a body-stretching rack that was installed at the front. As he cranked, a large black sail was raised.

  "Don't mind the implements of torture that this is constructed from," said Toby. "I got a good deal on used parts when King Waldo of Sharku upgraded to a more aerobic-type torture system."

  "How exactly does this thing work?" asked Jack, uneasily.

  "See this?" asked Toby, patting a small metal box attached to the rack, next to a few other contraptions. "This is a magical engine, created by a wizard the night before a spell of his backfired and blew him up. It makes this machine, which to the naked eye appears to be a death trap for the hard-core suicidal maniac, into a flying thing with all the grace of the eagle. Hop aboard. Pick any of the twelve seats you want."

  "There are only eight seats," Randall pointed out.

  "That's right, I keep forgetting that four of them have fallen off over the past few days. Silly me."

  "How many people have died on this thing?" asked Jack.

  "Not a single one," Toby assured him. "It's the hard ground that's the real killer. Can't blame my machine if the ground refuses to budge for a plummeting body, can we?"

  "I guess not," said Jack.

  "Time's a-wastin', so everyone grab a seat," said Toby, pressing some buttons on the box. There was a loud whirring sound, and the machine began to vibrate. Randall, Yvonne, Jack, and Bug all reluctantly boarded and sat down. "I would tell you to fasten your safety harnesses, but they don't come off again. Just hold on tight."

  The machine began to slide across the ground, sending off sparks that ignited a bush that was eventually to burn down the entire town because of all the highly-flammable toilet paper. And then, it lifted into the air, just as a copper thing with two levers fell off.

  "Don't worry about that," said Toby. "I never knew what it was for anyway."

  The machine sailed higher, higher, higher, lower ("Aaaah! We're all gonna die! We're all gonna die!" screamed Toby. "No, wait, I just pushed the wrong button."), higher. The beauty of the land below was truly impressive, even if the passengers were disturbing it with their occasional purging of stomach contents. They continued picking up speed and unwanted birds.

  "Wow," said Randall, "the clouds are incredible from up here. That one looks just like a doggie."

  "That one looks just like two lovers strolling in the moonlight," said Bug.

  "That one looks like an unleashed demon, hunting its mortal prey in the form of two lovers strolling in the moonlight," said Jack.

  "That one looks like a puff of smoke," said Yvo
nne.

  "That one's ugly," said Toby.

  They passed through the clouds and sailed above them. Toby turned around and smiled at the others.

  "So, what do you think? Pretty fun, huh?"

  "I have to admit, I was leery at first," said Randall, "but I'm actually enjoying this. How long do you think it'll take to get there?"

  "A few hours, I'd say. That gives you plenty of time to gaze upon this beauty. I mean, look at that!" He gestured grandly, knocking the magic box off the rack. It fell through the cloud cover and vanished from sight. "I wish that hadn't happened," he remarked to nobody in particular.

  "Is that as big of a problem as I think it is?" asked Randall.

  "Unless you're so optimistic as to be mentally defective, yes." The machine began to tilt downward and pass through the clouds again. Toby glanced around the rapidly-approaching land. "You don't see any water we could land in, do you?"

  "No!" shouted Randall, totally panicked.

  "Any full-bodied people we could land on to cushion the impact?"

  "No! None! We're all done for!"

  "I really have to apologize for this," Toby said.

  "Apology accepted," Bug told him.

  "At least I didn't charge you. That'll ease my conscience in these last few moments."

  The sail broke off, followed immediately by the two empty seats on the end. Yvonne leaned over toward Randall. "I'm sorry if this is inconvenient, but I really don't want to die being known as Yvonne the Pure."

  "Um, I'd be happy to oblige, but right now I'm suffering from the Terminal Droop."

  They were heading straight for a small town. "Thirty seconds 'til the splatfest," Toby announced. "Would you like me to continue the countdown or just shut up and leave you to your final thoughts?" The entire rack broke off, nearly taking Toby with it. "Ah, like it matters," he said.

  "I have a confession to make before I die," said Jack. "I eat slugs."

  "Jack!" exclaimed Yvonne, horrified.

  "It's the truth," he sobbed. "I never intended to, but one day I saw a slug out on the ground and I had some salt handy, so I poured the salt on it to watch it dissolve, but then I figured that was a waste of good salt, and one thing led to another, and soon I was addicted! Oh, spank me now!"

  "Look at all those people down there," said Toby, pointing to the town, which was much closer now. "I wonder what's going on? I hope it's a funeral so we don't bum anybody's high spirits."

  "Wait!" Randall shouted. "There's a haystack down there! Aim for it!"

  "I can't! We lost the controls!" said Toby. "But I've got an idea! Everyone lean to the left!" He leaned to the left, falling off the machine with a scream and hurtling toward the ground without the benefit of a large iron bar to cushion the impact.

  "I miss him already," said Bug.

  "This has been a long thirty seconds," Yvonne noted.

  "Look!" said Randall. "Fruit carts! If we jump at the precise moment, we can land on them!"

  "And over there!" said Jack. "Children playing with rubber balls! We can land on those as well!"

  "And behind that barn!" said Yvonne. "Somebody spat out a piece of chewing gum!"

  They were seconds from hitting the ground. Just before the individual seats broke off, Randall, Jack, and Yvonne leapt from the machine. Bug flew off and landed happily on the shoulder of a woman who currently needed some counseling.

  Randall struck a load of tomatoes, spraying red chunks everywhere and wasting a great deal of food. Jack hit the rubber balls at the perfect angle and bounced off them, landing painfully on the ground. The chewing gum absorbed enough of the force of Yvonne's landing that she remained intact. And Toby had managed to hit the haystack, though a severe allergy to all straw-based products currently had him in a sneezing fit.

  The remainder of the flying machine smashed into a large group of men in black armor--some servants of the Dark One who were in the process of making prisoners of the town's residents. But there were plenty more. The town had been overtaken by them, and citizens were being chained together and marched toward an unknown destination.

  "It's them!" shouted one of the town's residents. "They who are prophesized to fall from the sky and defeat the Dark One!"

  "You moron!" shouted another resident. "The prophecy was for a guy in a duck suit to defeat the Dark One, and he drowned in the pond!"

  Randall sat up and tried to squirm his way out of the tomato cart. Two men in the black armor approached him, swords drawn.

  "Seize the others!" one of the men shouted to his comrades. "We'll take care of this one."

  "Don't come any closer!" Randall said. "I am the great and powerful magician Slurpy, here to wreak my vengeance upon those who would dare attempt to take me into custody!"

  "Hold on," said the man, who wore a name tag reading 'Nichols.' "You mean to tell me that you crashed here just so you could wreak vengeance upon people who might try and capture you after you crashed?"

  "Indeed."

  "Hello? Mr. Brain? Are you home? What kind of moronic thinking is that, crashing into a tomato cart just on the off-chance that we might try to kidnap you? Can you say 'ninny?'"

  "Don't test him!" said Nichols' partner, Gelder, nervously. "The ways of magicians are truly mysterious."

  "If this guy really is a magician, then he's the biggest dork-maestro I've ever met." He pointed the end of his sword at Randall's face. "If you're such a good magician, do something about my sword before I poke it into that little dent in between your nose and upper lip."

  "You mean my philtrum," said Randall.

  "Of course I mean your philtrum!"

  "Such a vulgar display of power would be beneath my standards," said Randall. "But heed my warning. If any section of my philtrum is damaged by your blade, the repercussions will be swift and painful."

  "For who?"

  "For you."

  "Oh." Nichols hesitated. "Okay, fine. I won't use my sword. But we're going to take you and your friends to see the Dark One, and he will punish you as he sees fit."

  "You will take us nowhere!" said Randall in a booming voice. "You will release us, and you will release the citizens of this town, or I shall become very, very angry!"

  "If you're such a golly-gee-whiz great magician, how come you're still standing there with tomato gook all over you?"

  Suddenly a hangman's noose was thrown around Randall's neck from behind. He clutched at it and gagged as he was dragged to the rear of the tomato cart. After he managed to turn around, he saw a group of five or six of the black-armored warriors, one of them holding the end of the rope.

  "He lies!" shouted the rope-holder. "A real magician would have escaped by now!"

  "Kill him!" shouted Nichols. "I want him dead!"

  "Ah, you want everybody dead," muttered Gelder.

  Randall, trying to keep from being strangled, was pulled out of the cart and thrown to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Yvonne being chained to the end of the line of prisoners. Out of the other corner of his eye he noticed the same thing happening to Jack and Toby. About twenty of the men in black armor remained behind, excluding the ones that had been hit by the machine and were moaning in pain.

  "Leave him alone!" said Bug, flying into the crowd of men. One of them quickly reached up and plucked Bug out of the air.

  "I'll put it with the other insects," he said.

  Nichols walked around the cart. "Get him to his feet!"

  Randall was yanked to a standing position. "I get one more warning, right?"

  "The warnings have ended," said Nichols. He raised his sword again. "Okay, which eye should I gouge out first?"

  One of the men raised his hand. "The right! The right! Ooh! Ooh! Please do the right!"

  Gelder glanced over his shoulder. "Did you guys hear something? Like an approaching group of marauders?"

  Everyone stopped and listened. There was definitely a large number of footsteps approaching. "Who could it be?" asked one of the men.

&nb
sp; Then the group, thirty strong, came into view at the other end of the street, running at top speed. "Oh no," whispered Nichols. "Not them."

  "We are the League of Waldos!" the leader shouted as they continued rushing forward. "We are here to..." The leader trailed off, and quit running. The others did as well. "Where are you taking those people?"

  "They are prisoners of the Dark One!" Nichols announced.

  "Well, we're on a mission of destruction from King Irving of Rainey, who outranks your Dark One. So bring those people back and let us get to work!"

  "We were here first," said Nichols.

  "First doesn't mean anything! Did Sir Frey of Grabien get credit for discovering the Isles of Paradise, just because he was there first? No, it was Sir Ronald of Burgin, who kicked his butt!"

  "Wrong!" said Nichols. "Sir Ronald did not kick Sir Frey's butt! Sir Ronald never even made it to the real Isles of Paradise--he actually visited the Sinking Isles, which were already inhabited, and tried to tell everyone he'd found the Isles of Paradise and that he'd taken Sir Frey out in three rounds. The writers of the history books were prejudiced against Sir Frey because he was an albino, which is why we have this distorted view of history now!"

  "Attack!" the League of Waldos leader shouted.

  "React!" Nichols shouted.

  The two groups of warriors rushed towards each other. Randall, now without anyone watching him, began running off after the line of prisoners to save his friends.

  Chapter 21

  YOU Try Naming These Things

  BEING SURE to keep out of sight, Randall followed the prisoners as they were marched across the countryside by the warriors. One of the warriors walked up and down the line, leading them in a chant.

  "We are slaves of the Dark One!" he said in rhythm.

  "We are slaves of the Dark One!" the prisoners repeated.

  "The Dark One is number one!"

  "The Dark One is number one!"

  It went on like that for hours. Randall kept waiting for an opportunity to perform a daring rescue, but there was never an opening, and he was unable to think of something clever to shout at the warriors just before freeing the prisoners. The best he could come up with was "Hey, you warriors--watch this!" which seemed inadequate.