“Where?” the princess asked.
Randall flipped the coupon over. “Madame Taylor's Supreme hall of Exotic Dancers.” He checked the other pocket. Inside was a ring with about ten keys on it. “This might be it.”
He hurried over to the princess and began to test each key. “Hmmmm ... nope ... hmmmm ... nope ... hmmmm ... nope ... hmmmm ... nope ... hmmmm ... nope ... hmmmm ... nope ... should I start over?”
“Confound it!” said Sir William. “Find my sword! You'll have to cut down the tree.”
Randall glanced around the clearing. “No sword here.” He approached the stump where the crystal lay. When he picked it up, it began to glow with a soft, ethereal light.
A voice spoke. “It has the power. It is the key.”
“What?” Randall asked.
“I said, it has the power. It is the key,” repeated Sir William. “Now bring it here.”
As Randall moved toward Sir William, the crystal began to glow brighter and brighter. It began to quiver in Randall's hands. He immediately dropped it.
“Good Lord that's freaky!” Randall exclaimed.
“Pick it up!” Sir William ordered.
“What if it's nuclear-powered or something? I could get radiation poisoning! I could turn into a twisted, misshapen creature before your very eyes, and then you'd both be up the creek!”
“Pick it up, dagnabbit!”
Randall picked it up. The quivering increased. He crouched down and touched the crystal to the chain. It instantly dissolved right through the metal. Sir William stood up and snatched the crystal out of Randall's grasp.
“Good work, squire,” he said, taking a couple steps toward Princess Janice. “Ow! Charley horse!” He fell to his knees. Randall took the crystal, then went over and freed the princess.
“Thank you,” she said, putting her arms around him. “You will be well-rewarded upon our return home.”
Scar moaned and began to stir. “I'll handle this,” said Princess Janice, approaching the fallen woman and prodding her with her toe.
Sir William gestured for Randall to bring the crystal over to him. Together they began to examine it. The glow was fading. “Fascinating,” Sir William said. “Absolutely fascinating. I wonder what other powers it has?”
He ran his hand along the crystal. A huge beam of light shot from it, firing across the clearing and striking the princess in the back. She instantly exploded into flames and fell to the ground in a burning heap.
Chapter 4
The Heroes Freak Out
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Randall dropped the crystal. It fired another blast of light that narrowly missed Sir William and incinerated the tree that he'd been chained to.
They both rushed over to what was left of the princess. The flames abruptly vanished, revealing an extremely charred, blackened corpse.
“Maybe she's not dead!” Sir William insisted.
“Not dead? She's barbecue!”
“Check for a heartbeat!”
“I can see her heart! It's not beating!”
“Check it! Check it!”
Randall got down on his knees and rolled Scar out of the way. He pressed his hand against Princess Janice's chest and immediately pulled back. “Ow! That's hot!”
“Check it! Check it! Check it!”
“I'm gonna burn my hand off!”
“I don't care!”
Randall pressed down with his hand, wincing in pain. “Ooh! Ow! Ow! It's not beating. She's dead.”
“Do that thing where you push on her chest a bunch of times to get her heart started!”
“My hands'll break right through her! She's history! We killed her!”
“Oh...fudge!” Sir William began to rapidly pace back and forth. “That's it, we're finished! The king is going to use our necks as horseshoe targets!”
“We're not going back to the castle, are we?”
“No way!”
Randall had never seen Sir William so badly shaken. Of course, given the circumstances, it was a tad understandable.
“No more knighthood for me. No more respect. No more ‘Sir’ before my name. No more late night skinny dipping parties. No more hair styling discounts. I'm ruined. Everything I've worked for all these years has been destroyed.”
“It's probably not so thrilling for the princess, either,” Randall pointed out.
Sir William sat down on the stump and buried his face in his hands. “We're fugitives,” he moaned. “I've been reduced to a common criminal.”
“That's not true,” said Randall. “Common criminals won't have hundreds of people out trying to hunt them down like dogs.”
Sir William began to weep.
“I guess you two have a problem,” said Scar, sitting up. “Boy, I sure would hate to be you guys. Killing a princess? Whoa-mama! Looks like there's going to be some heinies in the kettle tonight.”
Sir William looked up. “This is all your fault! I should rip you apart, epidermal layer by epidermal layer!”
“Really? That would put a damper on my willingness to help you guys, then.”
“How could you help us? And as a follow-up question, why?”
“Well, let's consider your dilemma,” Scar began. “Dead princess. Now, what's the obvious solution to that problem?”
“Make myself feel better by stomping the person who got us into this mess.”
“Wrong. The solution is: Make it so the princess isn't dead. Bring her back to life.”
“Oh, what a brilliant solution!” proclaimed Sir William. “I can't believe I let that one get by me!” He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the still-smoking corpse. “You heard the lady, rise and shine! C'mon, it's time for wakeys!”
“Your sarcasm is only delaying matters,” Scar told him. “This forest is less than a month old. It sprouted up from nothing at the whim of a witch ... I think her name's Grysh. She lives in the center of a graveyard deep within this forest, and the rumors are that she has the power to raise the dead. At least that's the idea I got from all the zombies guarding her place.”
“You think she'd help us?” Randall asked.
“Well, no, she'll probably just try to kill you until she gets to know you better. But you haven't got much to lose. I dunno, maybe she'll act differently toward a knight.”
“What about my follow-up question?” asked Sir William.
“Why? The only ransom I'm going to get out of her now is a little extra cash from somebody who wants to buy charcoal briquettes. Knights don't work as hostages, because everyone expects them to save themselves, and nobody cares about squires. Plus you're no longer chained, and thus in a good position to hurt me.”
“Will you take us to this witch?” asked Sir William.
“No, but I'll draw you a map. You guys carry the princess and follow me back to our fort—it's just a few minutes away.”
Scar picked up the crystal, as Sir William and Randall each got on separate ends of the princess and lifted her. “Ow!” “Dang!” “Ouch!” “Crud!” “Eeep!” “Too hot!”
They set her down. “Do you have any gloves?” asked Sir William.
“Or some cold water to pour on her?” asked Randall.
Scar rolled her eyes. “Don't be such pansies. Think of the pain you'll suffer when the king's men catch you.”
Randall and Sir William exchanged a concerned glance, then picked up the princess again, doing their best to ignore the hot pain, though their best involved a great deal of profanity.
“Do you think we'll need those ashes?” inquired Randall, looking back.
“Maybe,” said Sir William. “I'm more worried about that foot.”
“Is that a foot?”
“I think so. I'm missing one on my end.”
“Here, set her down. I'll get it.”