The Hero's Guide to Storming the Castle

by Christopher Healy

  Fig. 23

  WARDROBESMEN and DRESSMAIDS

  15

  A HERO HAS A BALL

  Solving a mystery is just like solving a crossword puzzle. You look up and down and back and forth and fill in all the answers you already know; then you hand the rest over to a dwarf and ask him to finish it for you.

  —THE HERO’S GUIDE TO BEING A HERO

  Pretty much any royal ball is a big event—orchestra music, elegant suits and gowns, scores of people dancing quadrilles, onion dip—but Avondell’s annual royal ball was the event of the century (in part because Briar legally declared each one the Event of the Century and threatened to jail anyone who disagreed). It was set in a grand hall that was big enough for twenty bull elephants to run figure eights without crossing one another’s paths. A two-hundred-piece band—containing every instrument from bagpipes and didgeridoos to steel drums and hurdy-gurdies—plinked, zummed, and tooted its way through waltzes, minuets, and rumbas. More than a thousand candles lined the walls on platinum sconces, and the glow of their flames was caught and scattered by a ceiling full of dangling crystals, turning the floor into a sea of twinkling lights. A hundred-foot-long buffet table was laid out with delicacies such as pegasus kabobs, sea serpent caviar, and basilisk fritters. And amid all this extravagance, countless noblemen and ladies hobnobbed, snacked, and danced.

  “I’m so glad to see you all made it,” Briar said to Liam, Gustav, Ella, Lila, Duncan, and Snow—who were crowded behind an hors d’oeuvre table, wriggling uncomfortably in the excessively frilly outfits they’d been made to wear.

  “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Liam said with an obviously fake smile.

  “Well, what is everybody waiting for?” Briar said. “Dance.”

  She grabbed Liam by the hand and pulled him to her. Liam grudgingly began doing a two-step; and as soon as he took her hand in his, he noticed a strange bit of jewelry around her wrist: a diamond bracelet from which dangled a tiny silver key.

  The others watched the newlyweds waltz off into the center of the enormous dance floor.

  “Okay, she’s busy. Let’s go,” Lila said.

  “It’s not going to be easy,” Ella warned. “Look at her; she’s peering at us over Liam’s shoulder. And have you noticed the guys along the walls? The ones who aren’t dancing?”

  “You mean the statues?” Snow asked.

  “No, the ones in the striped uniforms,” Ella said. “They’re guards. We’re going to have to be really careful.”

  “Hey, Gustav,” Lila said conspiratorially. “Dance with me!”

  “No way,” he grunted. “I don’t dance. And anyway, I’m not stepping out from behind these crab rolls. I can’t be seen looking like this!” His shimmery lavender suit was so tight that it threatened to burst if he so much as flexed a biceps. Flapping lace cuffs spilled over his hands from the ends of his jacket sleeves, and the fluffy ruffles at his collar tickled his chin when he spoke. His hair had been curled.

  “Get over it, big guy,” Lila said. “I need you to be my cover. Keep your back to the center of the room while you and I dance over to that window. I’ll slip out, and you just keep on dancing as if I’m still there.”

  “Excellent plan,” Ella said. “Okay, shoo!”

  “But I don’t even know how to dance,” Gustav moaned as he waddled away, awkwardly holding Lila’s hands.

  “You two,” Ella said to Duncan and Snow. “Go ahead and dance. Act as normal as possible but watch for my signal. If you see me raise my hand like this, that means I need you to cause a distraction.”

  Crash! A plate of crab rolls hit the floor.

  “No, I don’t need a distraction now,” Ella said. “I was just showing you what the signal would be.”

  “Oh,” Duncan and Snow said in unison. Then they clasped hands and sashayed into the whirl of dancing couples.

  While cleaning up the spilled crab rolls, Ella lost track of Liam and Briar. As she scanned the ballroom for them, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  “May I have this dance?” Little Taylor asked, posing with one hand on his hip and the other behind his head to show off the gold lamé suit he was wearing.

  “Oh, you were invited, too?” Ella said with very little enthusiasm.

  “Of course,” Taylor said. “So, hey, I just asked the orchestra leader to play a sweet tango. What say you and Little Taylor show these rich folks what we’ve got?”

  Ella closed her eyes. Frederic, where are you?

  In a secluded valley far to the south of Sturmhagen, Rapunzel returned to her small wooden cottage after a long and tiring day of healing the sick and injured. She’d spent most of the morning mending the broken toes of a farming family whose cow had gone on a stomping spree. Then, before she had even finished her lunch, a trio of tiny, flying, blue-skinned messengers—Rapunzel’s helper sprites—came and told her about a poor leprechaun who had been shoved into a beehive by a gang of mischievous imps. After that it was an elf with swamp flu, a troll with gastrointestinal distress, and a little girl who sizzled the tip of her nose while trying to see a “magical world” inside a match flame.

  Rapunzel was exhausted. But such is life when your tears have the mystical power to heal. The sun was going down, and Rapunzel was looking forward to a quiet evening at home with a book and a bowl of turnip soup. But alas, it was not to be. She knew she was in for some overtime as soon as she saw a headdress-wearing show horse trot out of the woods with a man draped across its back.

  Holding up the hem of her plain white dress, Rapunzel ran to the horse to check on the sickly-looking man. As soon as she got close enough to see his dusty brown hair and pale cheeks, she recognized him.

  “Frederic!”

  Frederic opened his eyes and sat up, almost losing his balance. It took him a second to get his bearings, but as soon as he noticed the long-haired blond woman running toward him, he stopped his horse and hopped down. “Rapunzel! Hello!”

  “Are you okay?” she asked. She eyed him up and down. “I thought you were almost dead again.”

  “Oh, no, I’m in perfect health,” he said as Rapunzel held him by the chin and looked skeptically into his eyes. “Except maybe for a little saddle chafing. Not that I need you crying magical tears for that!”

  “I got scared seeing you slumped over the way you were,” she said.

  “Sorry,” he said, slightly embarrassed. “I was just, um, really tired. And I found a way to sleep on the horse.”

  “It’s good to see you,” Rapunzel said. She’d only met Frederic once before—for only a few minutes nearly a year earlier—but he’d made quite an impression on her.

  “It’s very nice to see you, too,” he replied. And Rapunzel threw her arms around him.

  The hug took Frederic by surprise. And at first he let his hands hover tentatively above her shoulders, afraid to fully embrace the embrace. Ella’s hugs always had a bit of roughness to them—they made him feel safe and protected, but tended to hurt just a bit. Rapunzel’s hug, on the contrary, was warm and soft. It made him feel safe in a completely different way. He let his hands come down to rest on her back.

  Rapunzel stepped away. “Sorry,” she said, her round cheeks reddening. “I was just relieved to see that you were all right.”

  “Oh, no worries,” Frederic said. “The, um, you know . . . the hugging . . . that was fine. Definitely. I mean, well, you know. Anyway, I apologize if I gave you a fright.”

  “If you don’t need healing, what brings you here?” Rapunzel asked.

  “Well, I was hoping to ask for your help with something. Can we talk?”

  Fig. 24

  RAPUNZEL and FREDERIC

  Rapunzel led Frederic into her cottage, where the two shared a tiny wooden table. Frederic sat on a storage trunk, since Rapunzel only had one stool. She lit a lantern and ladled out a mug of turnip soup for Frederic, eating her own portion directly from the pot (she only owned one mug).

  As they ate, Frederic told her everyt
hing: about Liam’s forced marriage to Briar Rose, about their plan to steal the Sword of Erinthia back from Deeb Rauber, about their need to reach it before Briar does. Rapunzel listened intently, kneading a handful of her waist-length blond hair.

  “That’s an incredible story,” she said when Frederic was done. “And you are so courageous for attempting such a quest. But I’m still not sure how I could help. . . . Why are you smiling like that?”

  “I don’t hear people calling me courageous very often,” he said. “But anyway, I’m afraid someone could get hurt in the process of this mission. So I would feel much better knowing we had a healer standing by. Just in case.”

  “That’s exactly how the people and creatures of this forest feel,” Rapunzel said. “They’re very secure knowing they have me nearby.”

  “So . . .”

  “I’m needed here,” she said apologetically. “You should have seen that poor leprechaun today; he looked like a walking sticky burr. What if I hadn’t been there for him?”

  Frederic nodded, though he couldn’t hide his disappointment. “What you do here is incredibly noble and important,” he said. “I won’t take you away from it.”

  “Thank you for understanding,” she said.

  “Absolutely. Now . . . what was I saying?” Frederic noticed the dimples that appeared on her cheeks when she smiled, and he temporarily forgot what they were even talking about.

  Rapunzel laughed. “You were complimenting me on my good works.”

  “Ah, yes, brilliant job with that,” he said.

  Speaking solely in terms of dancing, Liam and Briar made a very nice couple. With great poise and flawless stepping, the pair weaved their way through the other dancers.

  “I never knew you were this good,” Briar said.

  “I took lessons when I was Lila’s age,” Liam grudgingly revealed.

  “And you haven’t forgotten a thing. See, this is why I chose you to sit by my side. Can’t you picture us as queen and king of the whole realm? We will be so adored.”

  “You may have the upper hand right now, Briar. But I’m not beaten yet.”

  “Do you get lines like that from a book somewhere? Because you spout out far too many for me to believe it’s all off the top of your head.” She grabbed Liam’s hand and looked at his palm. “Do you have them scribbled down? Are you cheating?” She flashed a flirty little smile and waited for a reaction. But Liam merely looked away and took a deep breath. Briar rolled her eyes. I don’t know why I even bother.

  Liam’s gaze landed on Gustav, who was bobbing strangely in front of an open window.

  Fig. 25

  The DANCE

  A few minutes earlier, Lila had slipped through that window and began scaling the outer wall of the palace up to Briar’s bedroom. Liam prayed she’d be safe. And successful. And as the orchestra kicked into a tango, he prayed she’d be fast.

  Hanging from a fourth-story ledge, Lila used a stolen pickle fork to pry open a stained-glass window. She pulled herself up and over the sill, and tumbled into Briar’s dark bedroom. As she landed, her foot knocked into a small ceramic globe, which tipped off its wrought-iron stand, dropped a few inches onto Briar’s desk, and began rolling across the polished mahogany surface. Lila scrambled to stop it, but the skirt of her gown was snagged on the corner of the window. The globe slipped off the edge of the desk.

  “Hhrrnh!” Lila grunted as she dove and caught the globe in her hands just before it hit the ground. Panting softly, she looked toward the door. It stayed shut; the guards outside hadn’t heard anything. Thank goodness Briar likes her privacy enough to install thick doors, she thought.

  Then she noticed that her legs were clad only in ruffled, knee-length bloomers; the bottom half of her ball gown had ripped completely off. And was presently flying over the Avondellian countryside in a strong breeze.

  How am I going to go back to the party like this? she thought. Liam will never trust me again. I can’t—No. Snap out of it, Lila. Who cares if you’re in your underwear? There’s work to be done and no time for little-girl worries. She carefully set the globe back onto its stand and rushed to the desk drawer into which she’d seen Briar put her mysterious book. She pulled on the knob.

  “Crud,” she whispered. The drawer was locked. And she’d stashed her lock pick in her skirt.

  “So, rumor has it you appreciate a man with a good cross-stitch,” Little Taylor said as he and Ella tangoed through the sparkling ballroom. “Ouch! You know, that’s the fourth time you’ve stepped on my foot.”

  “Really, I thought it was five,” Ella mumbled, staring over Taylor’s head to watch Liam and Briar swaying a few yards away. She noticed the pained look on Liam’s face, and as angry as she’d been with him, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him at that moment.

  “You’ve got to loosen up, Cindy,” Taylor said. “Let Little Taylor show you how it’s done.”

  “Do not call me Cindy,” Ella said. She dropped Taylor’s sweaty hand from hers and wiped her palm on the side of her gown. That’s when she noticed Gustav, standing by a window, waving his arms wildly to get her attention. She shook her head. Subtlety, Gustav, she thought. She gave him a quick wave back to let him know she’d seen him—and unwittingly signaled Duncan to overturn a punch bowl.

  “Oh, jeez,” Ella muttered. She speedily dragged Taylor over to a powdered-wig-wearing countess who had just entered the ballroom and practically pushed him into the bewildered noblewoman. “You’d like to cut in?” Ella asked. “Sure. Take him.”

  She ran over to Gustav. “What’s wrong?” she whispered. The big prince pointed toward the window. Ella leaned out to see Lila crouching like a gargoyle on a narrow ledge.

  “Her drawer is locked,” Lila said.

  “Drat,” Ella grumbled. “Well, okay, you’d better come back in before someone notices you’re gone.”

  “I can’t,” Lila said. “I’m only wearing half a dress.”

  “I’m not even going to ask,” Ella said. She had to talk to Liam. She strode straight to the center of the dance floor and raised her hand high over her head. This time Duncan and Snow hip-checked an old, monocle-wearing baron into a table full of salted phoenix tongues. As the unfortunate man tumbled to the ground, taking three other guests and loads of grotesque appetizers with him, Briar spun to face the commotion. “What in the world is going on?” she fumed.

  Ella grabbed Liam by the arm and tugged him back to the window with her. “Lila’s stuck out there,” Ella blurted. “And Briar’s desk is locked.”

  “She’s wearing the key,” Liam said, remembering Briar’s bracelet. “We need someone to—”

  “Someone to what?” Briar asked as she walked up to them. “To rein in your clumsy backwoods buddies, I hope. They’re ruining my ball.”

  “Yes,” Liam said. “I’ll talk to Duncan and Snow. Gustav, you dance with Briar in the meantime.”

  Gustav barely had time to yelp out a “But!” before Liam shoved him into Briar’s arms. The band started playing a lively mazurka, and Briar reeled off into the crowd with the very unhappy Sturmhagener.

  “Now what?” Ella asked.

  Liam brushed his hair from his eyes. “We need to get the key.”

  Ella darted around the ballroom until she found Little Taylor, who was rubbing his red, stinging cheek, which had just been slapped by a very offended duchess. Ella pulled him away by his slick gold sleeve.

  “We need you to do something for us,” she said.

  Briar stumbled, trying desperately to keep her feet out from under Gustav’s. “It’s like you’ve never danced before in your life,” she said. “A dead yak has more grace.”

  “Is there a dead yak around?” Gustav asked bitterly. “’Cause I’d happily change partners.”

  “Ooh, nice one,” Briar snarked. “Which of your biceps thought up that zinger?”

  “Jealous, Lady Twig-Arms?” Gustav shot back.

  “Me? Jealous of a man shaped like an upside-down triangle?”
Briar smirked. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Gustav said. “Flattering yourself is what you do best.”

  Briar was so thoroughly engaged in bickering with Gustav that she didn’t notice Ella and Taylor dancing right behind them. As soon as they got close enough, the tailor deftly looped a thread through Briar’s bracelet. As Ella “accidentally” bumped into Briar from behind, Taylor yanked the bracelet—and the key—from the princess’s wrist.

  “Watch it,” Briar barked, but immediately returned her attention to Gustav. “Where was I? Oh, yes. You call that an insult? I’ve heard wittier barbs coming out of the cribs at a nursery school.”

  Ella placed the key into Liam’s palm and whispered, “Good luck.”

  Liam cleared his throat and looked at Little Taylor, who was hovering next to Ella.

  “Oh, thanks, Taylor,” Ella said. “You can go now.”

  “C’mon. I helped you out,” the tailor whined. “Tell me what you need that key for.”

  “Hey, look over there,” Ella said, pointing. “Isn’t that the Baroness of Bartleby?” She not-so-gently shoved Taylor away, and Liam slipped out the window.

  Liam looked up to see his sister, in her bloomers, clinging to a second-story windowsill. “C’mon,” she whispered, and skittered up the wall, brick by brick.

  “This is how you got to Briar’s room?” Liam asked, somewhat awestruck, as he followed her.

  “I’m good with heights,” Lila said. She slipped back into Briar’s window, and Liam swung himself in after her. The siblings crawled quietly to the desk, unlocked the drawer, and opened it to reveal a thick book with a cracked, peeling leather cover: Remembrance of Kings Past. Liam lit a candle as Lila carefully started leafing through the yellowed pages.

  “It’s a history of our family,” Liam said.

  “Wow, we’re related to somebody named Humperdinck?” Lila asked.