The Hero’s Guide to Storming the Castle

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“Sorry, Church Guy, nothing personal,” Gustav said, before hurling the old man into the front row. The Archcleric landed across the laps of Liam’s parents, who toppled backward in their chairs.

“What is going on?” Briar howled.

As dozens of armed guards charged toward the dais, Gustav grabbed hold of the wooden pulpit and, with a grunt, ripped it from its foundation.

“Yes!” Ella cheered. A guard swung his poleax at her, but she was faster—a quick slice of her sword and the guard’s weapon was in two pieces. She followed up by knocking the man from the dais with a powerful leg sweep—which wasn’t easy to pull off, considering Frederic was crouched behind her, clinging to her waist.

In a daze of exhaustion, hunger, and melancholy, Liam blankly watched the chaos around him. “Is this real life?” he muttered to no one in particular.

Briar, assuming Liam had somehow arranged all this chaos, climbed up onto the platform and confronted him. “This is a rescue attempt?” she scoffed. “What a joke. You’re not going anywhere!”

A contingent of five soldiers reached the end of the aisle, their spears aimed at Gustav.

“Look out!” Frederic cried.

Gustav chucked the pulpit at the guards, bowling them over. Liam was still chained to the pulpit, however, and was whipped off his feet as it flew. He landed on the pile of very unhappy soldiers.

“Oh, starf it all,” Gustav groaned, and smacked himself on the forehead.

Lila sank in her seat, shaking her head.

Duncan, finally noticing the predicament his friends were in, scrambled up onto the unicorn’s back (taking note of how much easier it was to mount an animal that was wearing a dress) and charged up the aisle, shouting, “Tally-ho! Hero coming!”

The soldiers scrambled out of the animal’s way, but Liam was unable to get very far. He was stuck at the end of the aisle, directly in the path of the charging unicorn.

“Whoa!” Duncan yelled. The unicorn skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding Liam, but the force of the stop catapulted Duncan up in the air. He slammed into Ella just as she was about to finish off the guard she’d been dueling.

Out in the crowd, the monocle-wearing baron turned to his wife and whispered, “This is a very good wedding.”

Seconds later, swarms of guards were on top of the wedding crashers. Duncan, Ella, Frederic, and Gustav were tackled and shackled.

“Well, this has been an interesting turn of events,” Briar said. She stood, smiling down at Liam, who looked in every way like he’d just been chewed up and spat out by a dragon. “You know, I still hadn’t been completely sure how I’d get you to say ‘I do.’ But now I don’t think it will be a problem at all.”

After the bedraggled Archcleric had been retrieved from the audience, the tattered bride and groom took their places once again on either side of the uprooted, overturned pulpit.

The old holy man cleared his throat, adjusted his hat, and began: “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining in holy matrimony of Prince Liam of Erinthia and the fair, gentle, wise, generous, sweet-hearted, caring, artistically talented, pleasant-voiced, graceful, punctual, acrobatic—”

“Seriously?” Liam interrupted.

“—and lovely Princess Briar Rose of Avondell. This marriage shall forever unite their two kingdoms. What belongs to Avondell shall now belong to Erinthia; what belongs to Erinthia shall now belong to Avondell.”

Liam’s parents were dancing in their seats.

The Archcleric continued: “Do you, Briar Rose, take Prince Liam to be your husband?”

“I do,” Briar said with a wide, wicked grin.

“And do you, Liam, take Briar Rose to be your wife?”

Liam looked past the cleric to Ella, Frederic, Duncan, and Gustav. They were on their knees in chains, with guards holding sharpened axes over their heads. His eyes lingered on Ella’s the longest.

“I’m a madwoman, right?” Briar whispered. “What do you think I might do to your friends if you say no? Let your imagination run wild.”

Liam eyed her with contempt. He took a deep breath.

“I do,” he said.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Archcleric said cheerfully.

Ella felt as if her heart had fallen out of her chest.

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It is the villains who covet treasure, not the heroes. Unless the treasure in question is a really snazzy belt buckle, in which case, who can resist?

—THE HERO’S GUIDE TO BEING A HERO

“

ake way, people of Erinthia! Step aside for your new princess.” Briar Rose was jubilant as she strutted through the bronze-plated front doors of her new husband’s royal palace, while servants and noblemen alike scurried from her path. She rubbed her hands together hungrily as she surveyed the kneeling footmen, priceless urns, and jeweled chandeliers that surrounded her in the palace’s grand entry hall. “My new home away from home,” she said. The first of many, she added to herself.

King Gareth and Queen Gertrude, the rulers of Erinthia, hurried down a wide marble staircase to greet their new daughter-in-law.

“Greetings! Greetings!” Gareth bellowed. “Welcome to the family!”

“We’ve been waiting for this day since our Liam was three years old,” Gertrude said. Just like most of the people in Erinthia, Gareth and Gertrude were interested in the Liam-Briar marriage solely because of Avondell’s enormous wealth—a fact Briar was very much aware of. And she was willing to bet the royal couple would do just about anything to please her.

“Oh, I couldn’t be happier,” Briar said, dripping with false sweetness. “But, Papa— May I call you Papa?”

“Of course, my dear,” said Gareth.

“Papa, I believe your inexcusably unclean entryway got my emerald slippers all dusty,” Briar said. “Could you be a dear and do something about it?” She lifted her foot slightly to show off an elegant shoe that seemed perfectly clean.

“Oh, well, um, we can’t have that, can we? I do apologize,” Gareth said, flustered. He raised his arm and motioned to a servant. “Footman, come here and—”

“Oh, Papa,” Briar said. “I don’t think I need to tell you how unique and valuable these slippers are. I couldn’t trust their cleaning to a mere footman.”

Gareth gulped. He looked over to Gertrude, who nodded vigorously. Gareth cleared his throat and bent down at Briar’s feet. He blew gently on her shoe. “There we go,” the king said. “All better.”

When he began to stand, Briar put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “Not quite, Papa,” she said. “They’re still covered in dust.”

King Gareth blew harder and harder at Briar’s emerald slippers; his cheeks inflating like a puffer fish and his thick mustache flapping like a flag in the wind. Queen Gertrude, feeling panicky, crouched down next to her husband and began working on the other shoe, scrubbing at it with the lace cuffs of her gown. Briar grinned.

Liam, who’d been sulking far behind Briar on their journey from Avondell, finally entered the palace hall and saw his parents on their knees, polishing the princess’s shoes.

“You two are pathetic,” he said.

The king and queen quickly stood and smoothed out their clothing as Liam approached them.

“Son, it’s so lovely to see you back home again,” Gareth said.

“We’re so happy you finally came to the right decision regarding this marriage,” Gertrude added. She touched her hand to Liam’s cheek, but he brushed it away.

He leaned over and whispered into his father’s ear, “I know what you did, Father. All those years ago. With the actors whom you left rotting in prison.”

“Humph,” Gareth grunted and whispered back, “I don’t see those two walking around free, so I guess you were smart enough to keep it to yourself.”

“You’re despicable,” Liam hissed.

“I guess it’s hereditary,” the king spat back. And he returned his attention to Briar Rose. “Come, my dear,” he said. “There is so much to show you. This vase back here, for instance, was imported from the treasury in Kom-Pai. It’s over two thousand years old and—”

“Yeah, whatever, I don’t care about that,” Briar said. She walked away from the king. “Where’s your treasure room?”