The 10th Kingdom

by Kathryn Wesley

  Burly took one look at them and frowned in disgust. “Where’s Dad? And the Queen?”

  “I suppose we are a little late,” Blabberwort said. “Stop!” a warder shouted. “You. Stop where you are.” He was running from the gatehouse, or actually trying to run was a better way of describing it. He was carrying a large stick and looked a bit frightening.

  But Blabberwort knew better than to be frightened of one dusted human. So did her brothers.

  Burly reached up with one meaty fist and, when the warder got close, kaboshed him on the head. “Shouldn’t we go back for the dog? The Queen will be very angry.”

  ‘“The Queen can suck an Elf as far as I’m concerned,”

  Bluebell said. “We’ve captured the witch from the Tenth Kingdom. Let’s go home and tell Dad.”

  Blabberwort grinned. It was time that they had redeemed themselves. Dad would be so very proud. And Dad was rarely proud.

  The all-powerful witch of the Tenth Kingdom was theirs forever.

  Wolf had smelled the Trolls before he saw them in the corridors of the prison, carrying the beautiful Virginia as though she was a sack of meat. That angered him more than anything, them treating his Virginia like food. Never mind that he had once planned to do the same to her grandmother. Never mind that he had greeted her with a cleaver in his hand. He had changed. He was reformed. He was carrying a bag of books over his shoulder to prove it.

  He followed the Trolls out of the prison and was now watching from the woods as they made their way to the river. Several boats floated on it, but none of them seemed to notice the Trolls or beautiful Virginia’s plight.

  The dog wasn’t with her, but the dog could hang for all he cared. Wolf had a chance with Virginia now. He could save her, be her knight in shining white armor—or actually a slightly dusty blue overcoat—and then he would have her love forever.

  It was such a lovely image that he held onto it for a moment before he scampered down the hillside toward the path.

  The Trolls had reached the river. They had found a boat and were in the process of throwing the boat’s owners overboard as Wolf made his way toward them. He stayed in the shadows so that they wouldn’t see him.

  They dumped his beloved Virginia onto the bottom of the boat and pushed off. Wolf got closer. He stared at the water for a moment, then at the sign hear it which read, You Are Now Leaving the Fourth Kingdom.

  Quite a sacrifice his Virginia was asking of him. But he was more than willing to make it.

  For her.

  Sloshing water and a splitting headache ... and something damp against her back. Virginia’s eyelids fluttered as someone picked her up and slung her over their shoulder so hard that all the air left her stomach. She tried to cough, but couldn’t. There was a terrible stink that seemed to be coming from the leather jacket she was facing. She didn’t want to think about that.

  She craned her head slightly, and the movement made her dizzy. There was an alarm ringing far away, and as she bounced, she saw that her captor was walking on a dirt path. An upside down sign—she squinted to read it until she realized that she was upside down, and then she could decipher it—read, You Are Now Entering the Third Kingdom.

  She got a vision of this place from that beautifully drawn map that she had seen earlier in her dream (this was a dream, wasn’t it? Please?). In the Third Kingdom, it said something about Trolls.

  The grass was overgrown here, and something had died in it, making the stench of the leather jacket seem almost palatable. Everything, from the wood to the buoys to the boats, looked rotted and unkempt.

  Toward her left were several unused carts, and a road that wound its way up a dark and forbidding mountain. Toward the top she saw an ugly castle and somehow she knew, with the certainty of dreams, that that was their destination.

  She turned her head again, and ahead she saw a series of wooden huts. Men sat before them wearing yellow uniforms, smoking and drinking as if they didn’t care about their work. There were three arches that stood over the path.

  The first read: Troll Citizens. The second read: Foreign Citizens. The third read: Slaves. That last was a very bad sign. Virginia winced. She hadn’t meant to pun, but her head ached as it never had before, and she could feel a lump forming on the right side. She had been in a prison and then someone had whacked her.

  Her captor strode through the first arch, making him a Troll. She winced again, and felt the dizziness grow. This had to be one of the Trolls she had locked in the elevator. Things were getting very, very bad.

  The men in uniform scrambled to their feet and then bowed.

  “Welcome back, Your Majesties,” they said in unison.

  Very, very bad indeed.

  Tony no longer had feeling in his hands. Maybe, if he did, he would attempt to bash the warders who held him over their heads and then tell Prince Wendell to run for it.

  Then again, maybe not. These warders were the toughest looking men Tony had ever seen—and he’d grown up in a very bad neighborhood. But the prison governor looked even tougher. They’d brought Tony in front of this governor. He looked mean, he looked bad, and he looked pissed about the Troll dust.

  But then, who wouldn’t be?

  The warders had led Tony into the governor’s office. Wendell followed. The office was as dark and foreboding as the rest of this horrible place.

  “It is some kind of spell,” one of the warders was saying to the governor. ‘ ‘Me and the lads have been laid out for over a day. We’ve searched every inch of the prison but the Queen is gone, sir.”

  The governor’s beady eyes stared at the warder for a very long time, as if this Queen’s disappearance were his fault. Then the governor turned those beady eyes on Tony.

  “I have been the governor of this prison for twelve years. No prisoner has ever escaped before.”

  Tony started to shake. But he managed to sound calm as he sucked up. “That’s a very impressive record.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t tell him I’m a dog.” Prince

  dell sounded very close.

  “Why not?” Tony asked.

  “Speak when spoken to,” the governor snapped.

  “Because the Queen has got some terrible plan,”

  Prince Wendell said. “My whole kingdom may be in jeopardy

  No one must know I’m helpless.”

  The governor cracked his knuckles. Tony jumped.

  “Where is the Queen?” the governor asked. His tone was

  menacing, his shoulders were broad, and those cracked knuckles

  looked like they could do some serious damage.

  "I wish to be home, now, this instant!” Tony shouted

  I wish I was back home safely tucked up in bed. ’ ’

  Tony clicked his fingers and snapped his heels together

  Dorothy in Oz. The governor stared at him. The warders stared

  at him. He was willing to bet that Prince Wendell was staring

  at him too.

  And that was all that happened.

  “Well,” the governor said, “it seems you’re not.”

  Tony’s stomach turned, and then it flattened, and then it

  ached. He retched. Something was coming up, and it was

  coming up now. He coughed and gagged, and bent over. All that

  work and then—a shriveled-up black husk flew out of his mouth

  and landed on the governor’s desk.

  “Oh, no, Anthony,” Prince said. “You didn’t swallow

  dragon-dung bean? You moron.”

  Tony closed his eyes. “Guess that means I’ve had all

  wishes.”

  The governor flicked the fizzing husk into his garbage bin

  Then he turned on Tony. “How did the Queen escape?’'

  “I have absolutely no idea,” Tony said.

  “Then why were you found locked in her empty cell?

  “I am an innocent victim,’ ’ Tony said. “I have never been

  in trouble with the la
w in my whole life.”

  The governor raised a very faint eyebrow. “Then why are you wearing handcuffs?”

  “Because I’m wanted for armed robbery,” Tony said. “But I didn’t have anything to do with that, either.”

  “Carry on, Anthony,” Prince Wendell said. “You’re doing spectacularly well so far.”

  Tony’s shaking had grown worse. “I’ve come here from a different dimension, led by this dog, who is actually Prince Wendell.”

  “I told you not to say that,” Prince Wendell said.

  “Prince Wendell?” the governor asked.

  The governor trained his beady eyes on Prince Wendell, who met his gaze, and then turned them back on Tony. “I can make you break rocks with your teeth for a hundred years.” He probably could too. “It’s the truth,” Tony said. “I swear.”

  “This is the Queen’s dog,” the governor said. “She has been permitted to keep him in her cell for three years. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

  “It’s Prince Wendell,” Tony said. “Look, I’ll show you.” He bent down and looked at the Prince. “Bark once if I’m telling the truth.”

  Prince Wendell didn’t even look at him. ‘ ‘I have no intention of barking, Anthony.”

  Oh, great. Oh, great. The damn dog was going to get them both killed. Him and his stupid pride.

  “He’s just being awkward,” Tony said. He looked toward the door. He had to get out of here. He needed some kind of plan. Maybe honesty would work.

  He licked his lips. “I must be released immediately,” he said. “I think my daughter has been abducted by Trolls—” The governor pounded on his desk so hard that everything in the room bounced. “Enough!” he roared. “I’ll have the truth out of you soon enough. Warder, remove his handcuffs, issue him a prison uniform, and put him in, uh ...”

  He ran his finger down a chart that listed all the prisoners. His dirty nail stopped at one number, and a slow smile spread across his ugly face.

  “Oh, yes,” the governor said. “Put him in 103 with Acorn the Dwarf and Clay Face the Goblin.”

  “Clay Face?” Tony said. “I don’t want to be put in a cell with anyone called Clay Face.”

  ‘‘What about the Queen’s dog, sir?” one of the warders asked.

  The governor looked at Prince Wendell. The dog looked more regal than ever. How’d he do that, when all Tony wanted to do was run?

  “Get the furnace going,” the governor said. “I’ll slip some rat poison in his dinner tonight and we’ll chuck him in the incinerator tomorrow.”

  Now Prince Wendell’s regalness faded. “Did you hear that? Did you hear that, Anthony? You have to get me out. It’s your duty.”

  Oh, yeah, as if Tony could do that with his hands cuffed and two warders dragging him toward cellmates Acorn and Clay Face. Still, Tony put up a valiant struggle. He shifted and shifted and shifted again, but the warders held him tightly. He couldn’t even elbow them. He couldn’t escape. He wouldn’t know where to escape to.

  Except that mirror. Wherever it was. Even though it was in this building, it seemed very far away.

  His only hope was Virginia and he had no idea where she was—or if she was even still alive.

  Chapter Twelve

  Virginia’s dizziness was fading, but she kept her eyes closed. She felt as if she was inside a large shoe, a large old shoe, a large old tennis shoe that should have been discarded before it could stink up an entire room. She wanted to bring her hand to her nose, but she couldn’t. It was stuck.

  Her lashes fluttered, but she still didn’t want to open her eyes. Her arm hurt, stung actually, and she was immobile. Since the last thing she remembered was being carried, she knew that this wasn’t good.

  Someone chuckled nearby. Finally her eyes flew open, and she saw the three Trolls she’d locked in the elevator smiling at her. One of them held a very large needle and a bottle of blue ink. She looked down. They had tattooed her! And it wasn’t a nice tattoo either, not the rose she’d been thinking of, or a delicate little butterfly.

  Instead, it was a huge Troll death’s head with snakes and rats and things she couldn’t identify, and below it were the words, Troll Toy.

  “She’s awake,” said the Troll who’d been carrying her. She recognized him from his leather jacket. “Strip her.”

  She cringed, but to her surprise, they grabbed her feet. They pulled off her shoes and socks and held her ankles.

  “You are a captive of the merciless Trolls now,” said her captor.

  “Merciless,” said the female.

  “Without mercy,” said the short one.

  They sniffed her shoes and examined them carefully, bending the toes back and forth. She looked around. She was in a large room that had stone walls covered with leopard-skin prints and other materials that looked slightly rotted. A fire in a nearby fireplace covered some of the smell with the scent of smoke. A chandelier hung above her, but the lights flickered as if there were candles in it instead of light bulbs. Everything was dirty and falling apart, but even if it weren’t, the room would be horrible. The mixture of oranges and browns and yellows made her think of sixties decor gone wrong.

  “Look, look, Blabberwort,” said Virginia’s captor, thrusting a shoe at the female.

  She took it, and smiled. “Thanks, Burly.”

  “What about Bluebell?” the short one asked, and it took a moment for Virginia to realize he was referring to himself.

  But the other two didn’t pay him any mind at all. Instead, the female—Blabberwort—grabbed Virginia’s feet and hovered over them.

  “Pretty little feet,” she said. “Nicee nice.”

  The short Troll, Bluebell, leaned over Virginia’s feet and sniffed them. Virginia turned her head away as if she were the one being forced to sniff her own feet. He seemed to be enjoying it a lot more than she would.

  He put the palm of his hand against her toes and pressed them backwards very slowly. It was beginning to hurt when he asked, “Who runs your kingdom?”

  The pain was sudden and sharp. He’d bent her toes back as far as they could go. “My kingdom?”

  “Who’s in charge?” Blabberwort asked.

  Virginia blinked, uncertain how to answer. It really was hard to think when she was in pain. “The President,” she said finally.

  Blabberwort leaned in even closer. She had a bulging forehead that was the main cause of her unattractive looks. “Wendell was trying to rally an army from your kingdom, wasn’t he?”

  “No. No.”

  Bluebell shoved even harder on her toes. Virginia wondered if they would break.

  “Ow!” she said.

  Her captor, Burly, picked up a jug next to her and swallowed its contents. Then he approached her, and spat it in her face. It was stinky and sticky and smelled of apples.

  “This could be a long torture session,” he said.

  She liked being spat on even less than having her toes bent. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “I torture first,” Burly said. “Then you talk. It’s better that way. Rush a torture, ruin a torture.”

  Suddenly, the wooden door behind them flew open. Virginia heard footsteps but couldn’t see anyone. Then the door slammed shut.

  “Dad’s back,” Burly said. He didn’t sound happy about it. The footsteps crossed the room and stopped in front of Virginia. Her heart was pounding, but she knew the heavy breathing she heard wasn’t her own.

  “How about taking off the shoes, Dad?” Bluebell asked. “You don’t need them indoors.”

  There was a click from a nearby wall, and a door Virginia hadn’t noticed slid back. Behind it was a wall filled with hundreds of shoes, every type she’d ever seen plus some.

  “I can rule the world in these shoes,” said a voice Virginia had never heard before. “I am all-powerful.”

  “Come on, Dad, you’ve done the hard part,” Burly said. “Just slip them off.”

  There was a rustle of material and a slight thud.
Then a Troll more hideous than the others appeared. He was taller, had dark hair, and his ears stuck out so far that Virginia thought at first that they were part of a hat.

  “I can handle them,” the Troll said. “I can take them off anytime I want to.”

  “But you never used to put them on first thing in the morning,” Blabberwort said. “Imagine the Troll King under the influence—”

  “Enough!” said the newcomer. He was the Troll King, then, more powerful than the others. Virginia scooted back as far as she could in the chair, but they had tied her so tightly that she could barely move.

  He shoved the shoes into the closet and turned toward his children.

  “Where’ve you been? You’re a day late.” Then he jabbed a finger in Virginia’s stomach. “And who’s this? You were supposed to bring back the dog.”

  “Forget the dog, Dad,” Burly said. “We have discovered another kingdom.”

  “It’s the mythical Tenth Kingdom,” said Blabberwort, “Talked of only in myth,” Bluebell added.

  “Don’t talk rubbish.” There was menace in the King’s low voice, and an intelligence in his features that was missing in those of his children. Virginia liked him even less than she liked them. “There is no Tenth Kingdom.”

  “There is,” Bluebell said. “And this witch put us in a box of matches,”

  A box of matches? Did he mean the elevator? Virginia didn’t have time to think about that. The Troll King peered at her as if he were trying to see inside her.

  “You were captured?” he asked slowly. “By this girl?” “She’s a witch,” Bluebell said.

  The Troll King clearly didn’t believe him. “How many of their soldiers did you kill before you were captured?” “None,” Bluebell said.

  “None”—Blabberwort glanced at her father sideways— “survived.”

  But he didn’t fall for her lie. “Who wants to be whipped first?”

  It was all Virginia could do not to cringe.

  “Dad, it’s true,” Burly said. “I can prove it. Look at this.” He pulled a sack from behind her chair. Virginia recognized