Happily Ever Awkward

by T. L. Callies

  Worrt punched his fist into Jack’s ear. The captain’s head slammed down against the bar and he shuddered, but when he leaned back up, his eyes cleared, the glaze left his face, and he stood straighter and cockier than ever.

  “A mighty adventurer such as you could turn the tide of battle,” Worrt crooned.

  Making an incredibly poor attempt at modesty, Jack sniffed and said, “On the other hand, I have been known to assume fairly epic proportions.”

  “Mighty…” the Demon hissed.

  “And I’ve wreaked as much havoc as the next hero — probably more.”

  “Brave…”

  “So I don’t like sea serpents — who does?”

  “Leaving…”

  “Yup, I think it’s time to go.” Jack stepped away from the bar and headed to the door. “Sorry I can’t stay, boys, but I got a siege to attend.”

  “Seeboth…” Worrt chuckled.

  Before he left, Jack flipped a coin in a perfect parabolic arc across the bar to land right in the barkeep’s hand. “Thanks for the advice,” he said with his insufferably roguish grin, and then he was gone.

  The barkeep blinked at the patrons of the tavern.

  “Has anyone else soiled themselves, or is it just me?” he asked.

  All the hardened visitors in the tavern raised their hands. Worrt tended to have that effect on humans.

  35

  KITTEN CANNONS

  Thunder rolled across the night sky as a full moon beamed its frosty light down upon the island of Lilypine.

  Clad in rusty armor, King Hofnar paced the beach in front of his ragtag army of peasants. Unfortunately, to call this group an “army” was rather like calling a kitten a cannon, and regardless of what name King Hofnar chose to call them, they would be incapable of inflicting any more damage than a barrage of projectile hairballs.

  Flimsy boards of Lilypine wood had been knotted together and draped over the peasants’ chests as a kind of armor. Unfortunately, to call these accessories “armor” was rather like calling a cream puff a castle, and regardless of what name King Hofnar chose to call them, they would not stop an arrow from puncturing the peasants’ cream-filled centers.

  The peasants, who all made their livings from the island’s lumber industry, carried axes as their weapons of choice. Unfortunately, since the average Lilypine tree could be chopped down with a butter knife, to call these axes “weapons” was rather like calling Lilypine wood actual lumber, and regardless of what name King Hofnar chose to call them, their dull edges would only ever pose a threat to Lilypine trees.

  Still, those were the names by which King Hofnar liked to call them.

  One member of his “army” stood upon a Lilypine stump and scanned the horizon with a spyglass. Apparently he saw something, for he started pointing and hopping up and down as he cried, “There! There! And there! And there!”

  King Hofnar clanked beside him, flipped up his helmet’s visor, and grabbed the glass. It did not take him long to see what had set the peasant to percolating.

  A fleet of warships crashed through the waves toward the island of Lilypine. Hundreds of warriors crowded their decks. Those warriors could properly be called an army, and what they wore could properly be called armor, and what they brandished could properly be called weapons. And the two sneering faces standing in the bow of the flagship could properly be called King Sterling and Prince Savage, although King Hofnar had other names for the two of them.

  He lowered the spyglass. “’Tis him.”

  He turned to the shivering peasants. “I be not one for speeches, so I wilt keep this brief. We be hopelessly outnumbered, but there be glory in hopeless causes! And I wilt not lie — war doth hurt. It hurteth a lot. But there be glory in pain! And I promise — we wilt know much glory this day!” He raised his war hammer above his head. “So, who be with me!”

  The peasants glanced at each other then fled, their “armor” rattling like wooden wind chimes.

  King Hofnar lowered his war hammer. “Fine. More glory for me then.”

  36

  DAMSELS UNDER DURESS

  High above the Shadowkeep, thunder murmured from a cloudless sky, which didn’t strike anyone as odd. Considering everyone had a lot of other things on their minds at the moment, such an oversight can be forgiven. Of course, it was just such an oversight that might come back to bite one upon the buttock.

  The evening air was crisp and cool as Demog escorted Princess Luscious up the stairs to the sacrifice platform. The milky white disk of the full moon hovered directly above the altar, as if Seeboth had carefully centered it there.

  Seeboth himself awaited beside the altar, nervously coiling yards and yards of heavy chains into orderly piles. He wanted everything to look perfect.

  Princess Luscious didn’t care how anything looked. All she cared about was the full moon. She knew what it meant, which was why she had kicked and fought against Demog the entire way from her cell.

  Demog didn’t seem to mind. He carried her as effortlessly as if she were a banner flapping in the breeze, pinned her against the altar, and began to manacle her wrists with the chains.

  Seeboth cleared his throat. “Demog, sacrificing one’s lover is… a personal matter.”

  “Oh, of course, my lord.”

  The Terror backed away and allowed the dark wizard to take over. Seeboth quickly and efficiently shackled both of Princess Luscious’ wrists and ankles. Although each of the chains was fused to the altar, they were more for show than anything else.

  Princess Luscious glared at Seeboth. “When my Prince Charming arrives, you will regret this day.”

  “You place too much faith in fairytale endings,” Seeboth said. “Your prince is dead.”

  Princess Luscious blinked at him several times in shock as if he had just smacked her in the face with a small trout. “You… you’re lying…”

  “No,” interrupted Demog. “I killed him myself. His fear tasted sweet.”

  “This can’t be…” She wilted under the weight of both her fear and her chains.

  Seeboth shot a pointed look at Demog, and the Terror got the hint. “Right, I’ll just be going then. I have something personal to attend to myself.”

  Demog’s project awaited him in a windowless torture chamber deeper within the Shadowkeep. Bony pillars held the chamber’s high, shadowy ceiling aloft like a cavernous ribcage. The space was surprisingly clean, its disturbing array of implements carefully organized and well maintained.

  In the middle of the room, Laura hung suspended within the gears of an elaborate torture device. Hundreds of cords and straps entwined her body, stretching back through a complicated array of pulleys and pistons. Jeremy the Zombie slowly secured the final straps.

  “I apologize for your accommodations, my lady,” he said.

  Laura tried to look around her, but the straps circling her face and neck prevented much movement. “Is this… a torture chamber?”

  “My master’s hospitality does leave something to be desired,” the Zombie replied. “I’m sorry—”

  “Jeremy!”

  With a weary sigh, Jeremy said, “Urrr…”

  Demog prowled into the room and admired Laura’s predicament. “Yes,” he said. “It looks good on you.”

  37

  BLOODY VENGEANCE

  A baby gull fluttered on the beach beside Seeboth’s putrid lagoon, too weak to fly.

  A short distance away, a hungry crab spotted the easy meal. Snapping its claws in anticipation, it scuttled toward the helpless fowl, right over the Singing Sword, which lay half-buried and forgotten in the sand.

  The Sword began to sing.

  Your insecurities,

  Oh how they mortified,

  You thought that you could never face

  the curse you carried deep inside,

  Still you faced up to the fight

  When all you wanted was to hide,

  And then I cried,

  Because they killed you and you died…r />
  Upon noticing the crab, the baby bird flounced away, but the crab closed in, its terrible pincers clacking, and it finally cornered the bird against a piece of driftwood. Its claws scissored wide—

  —and Paul’s hand erupted from the sand, sending the crab scurrying away!

  The Sword took its song up a notch.

  But you’ve escaped

  From Netherspace,

  You just opened up your eyes

  And dug your way out of your grave,

  The bad guys should have checked your pulse,

  They thought they’d taken your last breath,

  But how could they have suspected

  You’d come back to get revenge!

  Paul scrabbled clear of the sand, spitting and spluttering and blinking.

  “Ta-DAH!” sang the Sword triumphantly.

  Paul scooped up the weapon. “Good to hear you again,” he said.

  “I’m so glad you’re not dead,” sang the Sword.

  “Yeah, me too,” said Paul.

  Their brief musical reunion was interrupted by a voice calling across the water: “You can relax now! I’m back!”

  Punching through a wall of mist, the Sargasso Sphinx sailed into the lagoon. Jack stood at the helm with the self-assured slouch of a man who believes every ego-stroking thing a Demon perched on his shoulder might whisper to him. He was so busy listening to just such a Demon, in fact, that he failed to hear the creaking of a much larger ship as it emerged from the mist right behind him.

  Paul, however, saw it immediately and tried to flag Jack down. “Look out! Behind you! Jack, look behind you!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I see you!” Jack called, returning Paul’s wave but completely misreading its significance. “I know you’re relieved, but just calm down and give me a chance to dock.”

  Paul could not calm down.

  The reason for this was not, as Jack imagined, because Paul thought Jack could make everything better. It was because of the huge battleship bearing down on Jack at ramming speed.

  “What is that?” sang the Sword in a tremulous vibrato.

  “It’s a pirate ship,” Paul said.

  In fact, it was the biggest pirate ship Paul — or the world — had ever seen. It was the kind of pirate ship that swallowed other pirate ships for breakfast the way a whale swallowed krill. It was the kind of pirate ship that struck terror in the hearts of any who stood against it right before its crew stuck their swords in the hearts of any who stood against them. It was the kind of pirate ship with the name Bloody Vengeance splashed across its bow. And it was the kind of pirate ship with Captain Head raging at its helm.

  “It’s Bravado, me hearties!” bellowed his steam-shovel jaw. “Vengeance be ours! Fire at will!”

  Rows of cannons arrayed along the ship’s bow eagerly began to go BOOM! Although cannons do not, as a rule, sound eager, that is precisely what these cannons did.

  Before we follow the trajectory of those cannonballs, we must first take a momentary look deep inside the bowels of the Shadowkeep, where a legion of Zombies milled aimlessly about their holding pen.

  Typically, these Zombies would be responsible for maintaining the Shadowkeep, keeping things clean, rebuilding outhouses, and serving drinks, but with Seeboth currently so focused on the Spell of Unmaking, they had nothing to do at the moment but wait for direction.

  Then they heard the BOOM of the cannons.

  All of their dead eyes immediately flared a savage red as the sound of battle triggered their combat enchantment, flipping them into Horde Mode. An undead security system, they shambled en masse down to the beach to protect their master and his property.

  The cannonballs, which we left in the air just a moment ago, all proceeded to sail past the Sphinx, whereupon they detonated plumes of water on every side. Although they failed to make a mark on the ship, the barrage made a definite impression upon Jack.

  He finally turned around and saw the terrifying bow of the Bloody Vengeance looming over the Sphinx, and he saw the pirates scrambling to realign their angle of attack. They would not miss a second time, and he knew it.

  Spinning back to the helm, he shoved the special ornate lever forward and banked toward the dock. The jaw of the Sphinx masthead splashed open and began to swallow the foul water of the lagoon. The paws of the Sphinx began to stroke at full speed. The Sargasso Sphinx surged ahead, but not nearly fast enough.

  “Jack! Get out of there!” Paul yelled. “They’ve got your range!”

  Jack glanced back and found himself staring straight down the black-eyed barrels of every single cannon.

  “Oh, ox dung,” he said.

  He sprinted forward.

  All the cannons fired at once.

  Jack bounded from the helm across the deck.

  The first of the cannonballs slammed into the back of the Sphinx, splintering the ship in a series of explosions that ripped forward through the hull.

  Jack dodged past the mainmast.

  The rain of cannonballs chewed through the deck and snapped the mast like a twig.

  Jack raced ahead of the destruction and flung himself from the ship’s figurehead.

  The final cannonball blasted the head of the Sphinx apart in a ball of fire and wooden Sphinx teeth.

  The explosion launched Jack through the air and sent him skipping across the surface of the lagoon like a smooth, flat stone.

  Worrt the Demon, still only inches tall and clinging desperately to Jack’s shoulder in the hopes of riding out the turbulence, lost his grip with the first impact and toppled unnoticed into the water.

  Jack’s momentum propelled him all the way to the beach. Rolling onto the sand, he looked back just in time to see the Bloody Vengeance barrel through the burning wreckage of the Sphinx. Shock and grief paralyzed him.

  “First Sir Whitethorne, now they got you too…” he whispered. A tear glimmered in his eye.

  Before it could fall, Paul heaved Jack to his feet. “Come on! We’ve got to get to cover!”

  Together, the two of them scurried up the beach as more cannon blasts punctuated the sand all around them and bloodthirsty pirates began launching longboats toward shore.

  Paul and Jack raced blindly into the cavern under the tower and leaped up a stone staircase along the back wall—

  —at which point the legion of red-eyed defense-system Zombies spilled onto the landing ahead of them, which should come as no surprise since we took the time earlier to set up their arrival.

  Paul skittered to a stop and shoved Jack back down the stairs. Unfazed by the overwhelming odds, the Singing Sword cranked up its ballad to accompany their retreat.

  Wait! Charge up those stairs,

  Break down that door,

  Time to be a mighty hero,

  Time to even up the score!

  Raise your voice and shout

  Your mighty challenge to the sky:

  You tried to kill me, Seeboth,

  But you’re about to be surprised!

  I’m still alive,

  I’ve been revived,

  Because I fight for what is right

  You’d better run, you’d better hide,

  There are some damsels to be saved,

  And there are wizards to be slayed.

  This Prince Charming has arrived

  And this time he’s here to stay!

  When they reached the mouth of the cavern, they were faced with a difficult dilemma.

  Ahead of them, a legion of pirates swarmed up the beach toward them.

  Behind them, a horde of Zombies shambled down the stairs at them.

  Jack looked at Paul and said very matter-of-factly, “I think this is gonna sting a little.”

  38

  THE SPELL OF THE BLUE IRIS

  Oblivious to everything transpiring one hundred stories below, Seeboth stood beside the altar and traced glowing green runes with the Judgment Blade — runes that hovered and hummed in the air — as he began to chant.

  “Septim regis ric
tus sour,

  Sacred blade receive my power!”

  The floating runes slithered around the blade until Judgment crackled with a web of green lightning. Up to that point, the heavy, razor-sharp blade had looked dangerous enough, but now it looked absolutely terrifying. Princess Luscious flinched at the sight of it.

  Seeboth noticed her concern and quickly said, “Don’t be afraid, my sweet. It’s not as bad as it looks. The Judgment Blade was the only weapon strong and pure enough to hold the necessary enchantment, but I just need to scratch you with it. That’s all.”

  She said nothing, just stared up at him with her big, beautiful blue eyes.

  “What,” Seeboth said.

  She continued to stare with those eyes. Those perfect blue eyes.

  Seeboth wiped his nose self-consciously. “What?” he repeated.

  “Nothing,” she said.

  But still she stared. He couldn’t understand how he could find something so beautiful to be so unbearably uncomfortable.

  “What is it?” he finally demanded.

  “Nothing,” she insisted. “It’s just… I didn’t realize you were so… powerful.”

  That confession didn’t make him feel any less uncomfortable; it just made him feel flustered on top of everything else. “Oh,” he said. “Um… oh.”

  Something changed in her eyes, the way the lashes batted at him, the way her eyelids lowered, the way she gave him a sultry, sidelong look. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just marry me?”

  “M-Marry you? What trick is this?”

  “I promise I’d make a better Shadow Wife than a sacrifice.”

  Those eyes. He needed to look away from them, but he didn’t want to.

  “You know, we really should have talked about this earlier, darling. The sacrifice has already started…”

  “So stop it,” she said playfully.

  No, he had to look away. He had to look away immediately.