Happily Ever Awkward

by T. L. Callies

  ’Tis strange how a fairytale

  Can finally come to life,

  Your fantasy — reality —

  You’re fighting for a wife.

  It’s time to finally play the hero,

  But you know you’re going to freeze,

  When the mocking laughs and jeers

  Trigger all your secret fears

  From that Curse out of your past

  — you’ll be totally paralyzed —

  Whatever will you do

  If you freeze up at the wrong time—

  “What curse?”

  Laura hadn’t meant to say anything but had gotten caught up in the song.

  At the sound of her voice, Paul’s swing went wild and he embedded his blade in an overhead beam. The Sword stopped singing with a jarring “Urrk!”

  “You are way too jumpy,” Laura said.

  “I get nervous when people watch me,” Paul replied.

  “Could be a problem in the middle of a sword fight,” Laura observed. “Or, say, life.”

  Paul tugged on the blade. It was stuck tight.

  “So, what was that about a curse?” Laura asked again.

  “It’s nothing,” Paul said. “There… there was this witch. My father insulted her.”

  Laura nodded knowingly. “The man is consistent.”

  “Now I have a little… confidence problem. Look, it’s really nothing—”

  The Sword still wouldn’t budge. Laura jumped down beside Paul and grabbed the handle to help. For a moment, her fingers brushed Paul’s hand. He recoiled.

  “Sorry,” he said hastily. “I didn’t mean to touch—”

  “It’s okay,” Laura said. Then she said more quietly, “I’m not that bad, am I?”

  They both gripped the Sword and together began working the blade back and forth. After a few moments, Laura asked, “Are you scared?”

  “Why would I be scared?” Paul replied. “If I fail, I only lose everything.”

  “You didn’t seem scared during the storm back there,” Laura said. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for saving me. I guess we’re even now.”

  “It was nothing. I got lucky.”

  The Sword slipped a little. Their arms became entangled, and Paul found himself pressed up against Laura. He blushed and focused his full attention on freeing the weapon.

  Laura couldn’t help but smile. “You haven’t had a lot of experience with the maidens, have you?”

  Paul shook his head. The Sword slipped some more.

  “I didn’t think so,” Laura said. “Some advice, Paul? You seem very nice, but that’s the problem. ‘Nice’ is only good to a point, and then a maiden needs something… wild. That’s what Luscious needs if you’re going to save her.”

  The Sword finally wrenched free. Paul staggered back a few steps and met Laura’s eyes. Then he looked down.

  “What if… what if there’s nothing wild in there?”

  “Then you’d better look again,” Laura advised. “Jack sent me to get you. We’ve arrived.”

  20

  TREASURY ISLAND

  Jack raised a white flag as their ship neared the imposing mountain of rock known as Treasury Island. The mountain itself was not that imposing, consisting of benign, slate-gray stone that was both pleasing to the eye and to the touch. Nor was its wildlife that imposing, consisting of scuttling crabs and nesting gulls, both of which were docile and tasty. No, the main reason the mountain was imposing was because it looked like a gigantic human skull.

  It is interesting to note that Treasury Island was the first lair in recorded history to resemble a human skull.

  Although such a location is easy to dismiss as derivative, uninspired, or cliché, it is important to remember that this particular skull-shaped hideout was the very first of its kind and actually inspired every other skull-shaped hideout to follow.

  Keeping that in mind, it becomes completely undeniable how innovative, clever, and utterly non-cliché this skull-shaped island actually was.

  The skull’s wide, grinning mouth opened onto a cavernous grotto that extended deep into the bowels of the mountain. Iron cannons and barrels of black powder lined the perimeter of its jawbone like a row of rotting teeth. In its empty eye sockets, huge black flags flapped in the chill sea wind, creating the illusion that the skull’s eyes were following them.

  Laura and Paul stood transfixed as they approached the island, for neither of them had ever seen anything like this back in the Empire of Bridges.

  And as I previously pointed out, NO ONE had EVER seen anything like this EVER BEFORE in the ENTIRE history of the world. It was new and original and totally amazing.

  “I never thought I’d see such a legendary place,” Laura said.

  Jack snorted with his typical cocky arrogance. “Legends. Just another port of call for Jack Bravado.”

  Greasy-haired pirates standing along the mouth of the skull waved them inside.

  “Here we go,” Jack said, easing the ship into the darkness beyond the open jaws.

  Inside the skull, the darkness widened into a huge, domed cavern. A system of docks stretched along the walls of the chamber with a terrifying fleet of pirate ships moored there. To one side, a large wooden crane hoisted cannons aboard the ships.

  At the back of the cavern, directly opposite the open mouth, a massive palace towered over the grotto. Chiseled from a solid mass of blood-red coral, this collection of pillars and porticoes covered the entire back wall of the chamber.

  It took several minutes to cross the grotto, so huge it was.

  When they reached the far side, they found three pirates waiting on the dock in front of the palace. These pirates flagged the Sphinx toward an empty berth but couldn’t help laughing at the sight of the ridiculous craft. While Paul cast a line to them, Jack ducked behind the mast and took out a roll of bandages.

  Leaning in toward Paul’s ear, Laura whispered, “It’s ‘wild’ time. Did you find any?”

  Paul shook his head. “But I still have to go.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Paul’s eyes lit up. He was surprised to realize there was nothing he wanted more at that moment than for Laura to go with him. He started to speak, but Jack stepped between them. He was busy wrapping the bandages around his head.

  “That would be a very bad idea,” he said. “These are pirates. Cutthroats. You drag a woman along with you, you’ll lose all credibility.” He noticed Laura staring at him in disbelief and said hastily, “You’ll lose credibility with them, not with me!”

  She shook her head and pointed at the bandages covering his face. “What are you doing?”

  Jack finished bandaging his head, leaving only his eyes and a spiky tuft of brown hair visible. “Keep it down,” he said quietly. “My reputation has preceded me.”

  With a slightly-less-than-casual jerk of his head, he directed their attention toward the palace wall. Plastered there like wallpaper were hundreds of posters featuring an unflattering woodcut likeness of Jack with the following words:

  CAPTAIN JACK BRAVADO

  WANTED

  Dead, Undead,

  Or Temporarily Alive

  “Little help here?” Jack held the loose end of the bandage toward Paul.

  “What did you do to them?” Paul asked as he tucked the bandage tightly behind Jack’s head.

  “Let’s just say I have a tale to tell,” Jack replied. “I’m taking a huge risk bringing you here, but that’s the kind of selfless hero I am—”

  “That, and the emperor would have executed you if you didn’t,” Laura pointed out.

  “Right, that too. So don’t do anything else to get me dead, okay?”

  The three pirates plunked a gangplank onto the deck and swaggered aboard, all bad breath, body odor, and scurvy. It did not escape Jack’s notice that each of them wore red carnations.

  The burliest of the three bowed an exaggerated bow, smiled an exaggerated smile, and said with exaggerated hos
pitality, “Ahoy, young prince! Cap’n Head bids you welcome and promises safe passage. Now if you please to come with us.”

  He grabbed one of Paul’s arms. The lankiest of the three pirates grabbed Paul’s other arm, and the two of them marched the dumbstruck prince straight down the gangplank and up the steps into the palace.

  That left the sleaziest of the three pirates behind. After he allowed his eyes to ride Laura’s curves for a few moments, he sidled up to her and asked, “Hey missy, how’d you like to dock?”

  Laura instantly raised her hands to shove him away, but then thought better of touching the man’s filthy clothing and simply said, “Eat the poop deck and die!”

  She stormed below deck, leaving the pirate to chuckle in her wake… until he noticed Jack’s bandaged face.

  “What happened to you, matey?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Uh, it’s a long story. Epic.”

  The pirate leaned against the mast, crossed his arms, and said, “I got time.”

  At that moment precisely five nautical miles from Treasury Island, Seeboth’s Shadowship descended from the clouds unnoticed.

  The palace of red coral appeared to consist of nothing but one very long hallway that ended at two very large doors. During his hasty march sandwiched between his two pirate escorts, Paul had seen no other halls or doors letting off the passage.

  When they reached the very large doors at the end of the hallway, the burly pirate said, “Arr, Cap’n Head will see you now, lubber.”

  “He be waiting inside,” said the lanky pirate as he heaved open one of the doors.

  “And don’t stare,” warned the burly pirate, shoving Paul inside.

  The door boomed closed behind him.

  Mounds of treasure glittered in haphazard piles, forming a narrow path to a dais on the opposite side of the huge room. Gorgeous — but mismatched — tapestries adorned the walls, and exquisite — but dusty — statues lay forgotten and unappreciated.

  Not sure what he should do, Paul walked along the valley of gold coins and multicolored jewels until he reached the dais. It resembled the helm of a sailing ship, with a wooden railing and what appeared to be a throne fashioned from a ship’s wheel. At the moment, the throne — if that was what it was — sat with its back to him. Paul couldn’t see if anyone was seated there.

  Wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, Paul took a deep breath and said, “Captain Head, I… uh… I extend you royal greetings from Hofnar, sovereign of Lilypine…”

  The ship’s wheel swiveled to face him.

  It was indeed a throne.

  And someone was indeed sitting upon it.

  The notorious Captain Head, Kingpin of Organized Piracy.

  Paul tried not to stare.

  Unlike the other pirates Paul had seen, Captain Head was both clean and immaculately dressed. He wore polished black boots, black velvet breeches, and a silken shirt with cascading frills. Brass buttons and gold threading sparkled on a burgundy longcoat that draped the pirate’s broad chest and formidable belly. A red carnation bloomed from his lapel.

  And his head was a cannonball.

  An actual cannonball.

  Paul had not expected that.

  The round iron globe perched precariously atop the man’s shoulders and had what could only politely be called the approximation of a face. Although it wore a leather eye patch where its left eye should have been, curiously enough, it did not have a right eye at all… nor did it have a nose, or even a proper mouth. Instead, a steam-shovel jaw had been bolted to its chin, and at that moment, it creaked to life.

  “I can tell by yer face that me appearance startles ye,” said Captain Head, his jaw grinding out the words.

  “Uh, no,” Paul said, still not sure where he should point his eyes. “Not at all—”

  “Let’s just address the cannonball in the room and be done with it,” creaked Captain Head’s jaw. “Lost me head — tragic rape-and-pillaging accident. Fortunately, I found a wizard who could patch me back up. Did a fine job, don’t ye agree?” He rapped his knuckles against his metal skull.

  BONNNNNNGGGGG!

  “Um, yes?”

  The Captain nodded, the heavy cannonball tipping forward as he did so, forcing him to prop it back in place with his hands. “Wise answer. I think we’ll get along just fine. So, down to business. You desire a courtesy. What is it?”

  All the moisture fled from Paul’s mouth, reappearing under his arms and upon his palms. He felt completely out of his depth trying to negotiate with a criminal overlord, but he had no choice. The sooner he started talking, the sooner it would all be over.

  One way or another, it would all soon be over.

  “I… I seek a wizard named Seeboth,” he finally said. “Has… has he arrived yet?”

  “Ye know of me business with Seeboth, do ye?” Captain Head scratched his iron chin. “Yer certainly well informed. But no, he has not arrived. Why?”

  “I am… I am on a Quest, duty-bound to slay this wizard,” Paul said. “Will you… will you… give him to me?”

  A great belly laugh suddenly shook Captain Head’s body, erupting from his creaking jaw with the sound of rending metal. “I like the cut o’ yer jib, matey! You got guts askin’ me to betray a client like that. But I’m afraid doing that would be very bad for business. And in the end, I do be a businessman after all.”

  Paul felt himself shrivel inside. “Then… I shall slay him on my own.”

  “Well, ye won’t be the first man to bite off more than ye can chew,” said the captain. To illustrate his point, he flipped a switch on the arm of his throne, setting a series of wooden gears in motion down the side of his chair.

  In response, a panel in the dais slid open, and a magnificent silver sword rose up on a stand. A pattern of flames, inlaid in exquisite gold leaf, ran the length of the blade from tip to handle.

  Paul’s mouth dropped open and remained that way for a few moments until his words could find their way there. “Jahalael have mercy — that’s the Judgment Blade. That’s Sir Whitethorne’s sword!”

  Somehow Captain Head clicked his tongue, which seemed quite impossible since he didn’t have one. “Was his sword. Now it’s merchandise.”

  “How dare you!” Paul cried. Though he still felt very much afraid, a sudden sense of outrage was crowding past his earlier indecisiveness, throwing angry elbows all about and shoving its way to the front of the conversation. “That blade is sacred! Whitethorne was a hero—”

  “He was a busybody,” Captain Head corrected. “He and his Knights of the Oblong Shield stepped on the toes of many, many powerful people. People who wanted him ‘removed.’ So he was. I’m not complaining. Business be much better without him.”

  Captain Head abruptly snatched Judgment from the stand and swung the point to kiss Paul’s neck.

  “So, please don’t be offended when I hand ye over to Seeboth,” he said. “He’s paying me a small fortune to buy this sword for a sacrifice or some such nonsense, but I’m sure he’d be grateful if I throw a prince in as a little bonus.”

  Paul’s outrage quickly retreated as his fear shouldered back to the forefront once more. “But… the flag of truce… you guaranteed safe passage!”

  Captain Head shrugged, which set his head toppling to one side. As he propped it back up with his shoulder, he said, “I lied — what did ye expect? I may be a businessman, but I’m still a pirate!”

  21

  THE NOT-SO-GREAT ESCAPE

  Laura crouched behind the railing of the Sargasso Sphinx and stared in horror as the ominous black Shadowship coasted into the grotto. It slipped into an open berth on the opposite side of the dock, over near the crane.

  Seeboth and Demog disembarked, and her blood ran cold at the sight.

  Although she didn’t know the smaller figure or recognize its shriveled, skull-like face, she would never forget the taller figure in its black cloak or the magic finger with which it suspended her in midair for an entire evening until someone ha
d finally spoken the counterspell “Fiat Oblivytum” to release her.

  “It’s him!” she hissed to no one in particular. She ducked down as the duo strode past the Sphinx and marched into the coral palace.

  “We have to do something!” Laura hissed again, again to no one in particular. She cast a glance toward Jack, but he would be of no help.

  Oblivious to all around him, Jack continued his retreat from the sleazy pirate and attempted to deflect the cutthroat’s onslaught of questions with his own endless prattle: “…and I freckle very easily, so…”

  When the two headed for the stern of the ship, Laura saw her chance and slipped down the gangplank so she might take matters into her own hands.

  A sparkling bead of sweat dangled from Paul’s chin with far more tenacity than one would expect from a drop of perspiration.

  Captain Head continued to press the tip of the Judgment Blade into Paul’s throat. “Ye must be new at this. Did ye honestly think ye could just sail in here and expect me to betray Seeboth? He fixed me head, fer gods’ sakes! Besides that, the man scares the barnacles off me hull.”

  Unable to hold on any longer, Paul’s sweat finally let go, seemingly welcoming the release, and it plunged downward to spatter upon the edge of the blade of Judgment.

  A magical sizzle.

  A faint wisp of smoke.

  And it was gone.

  “Who is that, and why is he soiling my sword?” came a voice from behind Paul.

  “Ah,” Captain Head said, “yer here.”

  Seeboth and Demog stood in the doorway, all black cloaks, leather armor, and scowling brows. Nobody in the known world scowled better than those two.

  Paul’s Singing Sword shivered in its scabbard and said, “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just skip the song and cut right to screaming like a little girl. AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”