How to Rescue a Dead Princess (19 page)

“
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH
!!!” he shrieked. “
AHH! AHH! AHH
!”

“Can't you just hear the love in his voice?” sighed Yvonne.

The pit was about six feet deep, had an uncomfortably jagged bottom, and contained three thousand, two hundred and fifty-four scorpions, of which one thousand, eight hundred and six were already crawling over Randall. The odds that he could avoid getting stung were about as bad as the odds that in a meadow this vast he would have stumbled upon the pit in the first place. There was also a moth, but it posed a lesser threat.

“
AHH! AHH! AHH
!” Randall repeated, to make sure his meaning got across. Then he added an “OH, CRUD!” for clarity.

“Think it would disrupt his courtship if we helped him?” asked Jack.

“I guess we should do something,” Yvonne decided. “It would appear from his shrieks that today's wooing is over.”

“I love wooing,” said Bug.

Down in the pit, Randall pulled a scorpion from each ear and, despite their high nutritional value and low caloric content, spat out the four that had scurried into his mouth while he was going “
AHH! AHH! AHH
!”

“Here, grab my hand!” said Jack, reaching down to help him. “No, wait, brush the scorpions off your own hand first!”

“I can't! There are too many of them!”

“You're right! There must be three thousand, two hundred and fifty-four of them down there! Yvonne, close your eyes and come over here!”

“Just pull me out!” screamed Randall. “These things have stingers!”

“Say what?” asked Jack, jerking his hand out of the pit. “Were you planning on just letting that little tidbit of information pass by? Jeez, they've got pinchers, too! There's probably some venom in there, for all I know!”

Yvonne shoved Jack out of the way and reached down into the pit with both hands. Within three seconds Randall had grabbed her arms and climbed up them, scorpions clinging to his shirt, pants, shoes, hair, prominent facial features, and skin pores. He then began performing the traditional Get These Scorpions The Hell Off Me dance, which involved bouncing around, ripping off clothing, and making noises that would be physically impossible in other circumstances.

“They're still on me!” he hollered as the dance began to wind down.

“The pond!” Yvonne shouted.

“What about the pond?”

“It's full of water!”

“What about water?”

“Jump in it!”

“Great idea! Where is the pond?”

“Just over that grassy knoll!”

“Will I be turning left or right?”

“You'll veer slightly to the right.”

“Thank you!” Randall took off running over the knoll, then leapt into the pond. The water was nice and cool, and the scorpions immediately released him as they began doggy paddling for shore.

Jack, Yvonne, and Bug hurried over to the edge of the pond. “Are you okay?” asked Yvonne.

“Fine,” said Randall. “I don't think I got stung.”

Jack glanced at a small sign. “I wonder if they call it ‘Leech Lagoon’ just for aesthetic reasons?”

“
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!! AHH! AHH! AHH
! I feel something slimy!”

“
Leeches
are slimy,” Jack noted, uneasily.

Randall rushed out of the pond, covered with muck from the bottom but no leeches, excluding the three-foot-long one attached to his back. “Get it off me! Get it off me!”

“Just what I need,” said Jack. “Another phobia for my collection. Yvonne, I really liked the way you handled our little scorpion situation. Do it again so that I can learn from your technique.”

Yvonne grabbed the tail end of the leech and began to tug, but it held fast. “You have to burn these things off!”

“So torch it!”

“Jack, go find me two sticks to rub together!”

Jack nodded and ran off.

“Randall, stay calm!”

“If this thing sucks any more blood, I'm going to be downright mellow.”

“Is there anything I can do?” asked Bug.

“Do you speak leech?” Yvonne inquired.

“Sorry, no. I'm an arthropod, he's a worm. Completely different dialect.”

“I feel another ear-piercing shriek coming on,” Randall warned them.

“I'm back with the sticks!” said Jack. “You want to borrow my magic lighter to ignite them?”

“Gimme that thing!” said Yvonne, snatching the lighter out of his hand. She flicked on the tiny flame, and held it up to the leech's tail. They stood there for a few moments, waiting.

“It's definitely getting a little crispy,” Jack pointed out.

“This could take a while,” Yvonne admitted. “We'll just have to work in shifts.”

“Not to malign cooperation,” said Randall, “but I should mention that I'm going to be dead any minute now.”

“They better be quick shifts then,” said Jack.

Yvonne tossed the lighter away and began beating on the leech, punching bag style.

“Nice form,” said Jack, impressed.

“This isn't working either,” Yvonne said. “We're just all going to have to grab hold of it and pull as hard as we can.”

Jack and Yvonne both grabbed the leech's tail. Bug told them that it loved them for moral support. “On the count of three,” said Yvonne. “One ... two ... THREE!”

They both yanked. Their hands instantly slipped off the slimy leech-skin, and their momentum carried them back a few steps. The ground collapsed underneath Jack, dropping him into a new pit.

“Dung beetles!” Jack screeched. “Dung beetles everywhere!” Bug quickly flew down there to help him.

Yvonne grabbed hold of the leech again, digging her fingers into its skin. She raised her feet, bracing them against each of Randall's buttocks, then pulled with all her might.

“And dung!” Jack added. “Dung everywhere!”

“I think it's coming loose,” said Yvonne through clenched teeth.

“That's my spine,” whimpered Randall.

Then, with a loud
pop
, the leech popped free. Yvonne fell on her back, as the leech squirmed to get at her feet. Despite his dizziness, Randall gave the leech a tremendous kick, sending it flying through the air and into the pit with Jack.

“
Eeeeeeek
!” screamed Jack.

Bug flew out of the pit. “It's swallowing his head!”

Yvonne rushed forward and reached down into the pit. The leech either hadn't gotten a sufficient grip or wasn't thrilled with the taste of Jack's head, and came free with a minor effort. Yvonne dropped the leech, then pulled Jack out of the pit, covered with the beetles.

“Get them off me!” he screamed, running toward the pond.

“Jack, no!”

Ignoring the warning, Jack splashed into the pond and began thrashing about. Three seconds and one crocodile sighting later, he came running out of the water, thankfully leech-free.

The four of them dropped to the ground, exhausted. For several minutes they just sat there, trying to catch their breath. Finally, Randall spoke.

“Now, back to the strawberry.”

“REALLY, YOU don't have to do that,” said Yvonne. “I had a whole bunch of strawberries this morning and they gave me salmonella. Let's just find some place to rest.”

“Oh, no,” said Randall, his voice slurred. “I said I was going to get you that strawberry, and by gosh I'm going to get it.” He passed out for a moment, then woke up again. “No matter what.”

“Listen, Randall, that leech really did a number on you. I think we should get out of this place and find you some help.”

“I feel perfectly fine,” said Randall. Then he passed out for a couple days.

“WHERE AM I?” he asked, opening his eyes.

“You're in the same meadow,” Yvonne replied. “Jack wouldn't help me carry you.”

“I have fragile arms,” Jack insisted.

“We've just been hanging out here,” said Yvonne. “Waiting for you to recover, surviving on leech meat, playing Twenty Questions, which is a really idiotic game. Way too easy.”

“Okay, I've thought of something,” said Bug.

“Question one,” said Jack. “What is it?”

“A breadbox. You win again!”

“See?” asked Yvonne. “Why do they call it Twenty Questions when it never takes more than one?”

Randall sat up. “I feel pretty good. How long have I been out?”

“Two days.”

“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Randall.

“Oh your goodness what?”

“That's terrible! I can't afford two days! By now the king will have every knight in the kingdom out looking for me, Sir William, and Princess Janice!”

“See?” said Jack to Yvonne. “I told you he was the one those knights were looking for. Pay up.”

Yvonne handed him a dvorkin. “Good thing we hid him down in the scorpion pit.”

“Look, this is serious! I can't let them find me!”

“But don't you think the hunt for the reagents would go a little better with every knight in the kingdom searching?” asked Yvonne.

“Sure it would, but so would the game of Squish-the-Squire. We have to get out of here and start questing again!”

“That's a good idea,” said Yvonne. “Oh, one thing, though. I changed my mind ... do you think you could get me that strawberry after all?”

“Okay.”

THE DARK One sat upon his throne, lost in his wicked thoughts. Scrivener turned off the power to his crystal ball and looked over at him. “What are you doing, Master?”

“Brooding.”

“I see. Not to correct you, Master, but wouldn't that require that a female be present?”

“I said
brooding
, fool, not breeding! Your stupidity is matched only by your stench!”

“Apologies, Master. Do you wish me to stand in the corner so that I might wallow in my own shameful inadequacies?”

“No. On second thought, yes. And while you're there perform some acts of self-abuse.”

“As you wish, Master.” Scrivener retreated to the corner and began poking himself in the nose.

There was a knock on the door, then Wyrkham entered. “Master! I have great news! Wonderful news!”

“Are you going to stand there all day before you tell me?”

The dwarf hesitated. “Is that what you desire?”

“No! Give me the message!”

“We've now conquered nine towns and two kingdoms and made all the residents our slaves! They've got dehumanizing collars on and everything! Our army continues to grow, and we've written ‘The Dark One rules!’ all over the place!”

“Excellent. I am most pleased.”

“Cool. Can I borrow a couple dvorkins?”

“Leave me,” the Dark One hissed. “I must concentrate on the next phase of my domination plan!”

“That would be something like taking over more kingdoms and getting more slaves, right?” asked Wyrkham.

“Yes, basically. Now begone!”

Wyrkham left the throne room. Scrivener stopped twisting his eyebrow. “May I leave the corner now?”

“You may,” said the Dark One. “Ahhhh, the sweet sound of victory. Soon will I reduce the peasants of this land to frightened cowards, pleading to do my bidding!”

“That sounds delightful, Master. But wouldn't they be more productive as laborers if you built up their morale rather than taking it away?”

“Perhaps. But when the slaves fear me, the sense of power makes me giggly. And you know how difficult it is for me to become giggly.”

“I do indeed, Master. And you have my sympathies.”

AS TREACHEROUS as the cliff was, Randall managed to climb to the top in just under an hour, and without breaking any bones, even minor ones that he didn't know the names for. And there was the strawberry, large and succulent-looking. If he could reach the bottom of the cliff without accidentally crushing it into a gooey red pulp, Yvonne would love him forever.

He bent down to pick the strawberry.

And his hand passed right through it.

“Odd berry,” he said to himself.

Several more attempts convinced him that the strawberry was indeed an illusion, and he had broken no bones for nothing.

“Ha!” said an old man, crawling out from under some bushes. “Ha ha! I laugh in your face, then spit in it, then laugh in it again! Ha ha! I can't believe you fell for the illusionary strawberry trick!”

“Ha ha. I'm tickled pink. I'd let out a hearty guffaw if I weren't entertaining thoughts about killing you right now.”

The man stood up. His face appeared to be the wrinkle rest stop of the land. He wore ragged clothing, and his long, grey hair looked like it had been ratted with real rats. “Lighten up,” he said. “My name is Warren the Wise, though some people call me Warren the Wise-Ass. I know all and see all. Because you have climbed such dangerous heights to see me, I will now share some of my eternal knowledge with you. Ask me any three questions.”

“Hey, this is great!” said Randall. “I have some questions I really need answered. First, where would I find Jenstina the Ogre?”

Warren sighed. “Oh, sure, ask something for yourself. Where would
I
find the ogre?
I
. Me, me, me. That's all you people care about. For once it would be nice if somebody's first question was ‘How are you feeling today?’ ‘Doesn't it get lonely sitting up here all by yourself?’ ‘Would you care for something to drink?’ But no, it's got to be something
you
care about, you selfish bastard!”

“Okay, then, where would
you
find Jenstina the Ogre?”

“None of your business. That's one question.”

“What?”

“I said, none of your business. That's two.”

“You bitter little creep!”

“All right, all right, whatever your last question is, I promise to give you a good answer.”

“Fine, here's my question: Where are Jenstina the Ogre and Shreddriff the Berserker and the Necklace of Power and is Yvonne really the woman for me and what's the meaning of life?”

“Sneaky. Jenstina the Ogre lives in a hut on the Mountain of Rock. Here's a map.” He handed Randall a folded piece of paper. “Shreddriff the Berserker lives on an island in the Ocean of Water. Here's a map.” He handed Randall another folded piece of paper. “I've never heard of the Necklace of Power. Yes, Yvonne is the woman for you, and don't you forget it. And the meaning of life is ‘the state of being alive.'”