The Hero's Guide to Being an Outlaw (2 page)

F
rederic wasn’t always helpless. Sure, he’d grown up in a palace with spill-proof goblets, padded bathtubs, and servants who wiped his nose for him; but those days were long behind him. Well, okay, a few months behind him. But in that time, Frederic
had
changed. He was now a man who had battled witches, negotiated with giants, and escaped from dungeons. He had proven he could be brave—when he had an ally or three at his side, that is. Working solo was still a challenge for him. And sadly, there was not a friend in sight when the hobgoblin lifted its crusty foot and wiggled its fat, infected toe in his face.

As Frederic’s head hit the dirt and consciousness slowly faded away, his mind replayed the events of the previous three months, the pitiful chain of events that had brought him to this point.

It all began when Frederic walked out on his father. He marched out through his palace’s arched marble gateway, his head a dizzying swirl of emotions—shame at having let Ella get banished, pride at having finally stood up to his father, anxiety over the prospect of leaving his royal comforts behind forever. But he had a plan: Go see Rapunzel. The long-haired healer from Sturmhagen had an easygoing warmth that made Frederic feel calm and comfortable whenever he saw her. She got his jokes, she made the best turnip soup he’d ever tasted, and she’d saved his life twice. Just thinking of Rapunzel made Frederic feel like everything was going to be all right.

Unfortunately, seeing her didn’t have quite the same effect. When Frederic finally reached Rapunzel’s cottage in the deep woods of Sturmhagen, he noticed that she was not alone. Through her kitchen window, he spotted the familiar, broad-shouldered silhouette of his friend Prince Gustav.
I shouldn’t be surprised,
Frederic thought.
Gustav was
her
Prince Charming, after all
.

“Good for him,” Frederic said aloud, trying to convince himself he really felt that way. He turned his horse around, trotted back into the forest, and began . . . wandering.

He spent several days on the shores of Lake Dräng with Reese the giant—but he didn’t like the way Reese’s colossal mother, Maude, licked her lips when she looked at him, so he decided to move on. He got a warm welcome at Troll Place, but the “bed” that Mr. Troll constructed for him—a splintery piece of wood precariously balanced between two jagged rocks—didn’t even come close to his comfort standards; so he politely told his host that he had an important appointment elsewhere. He tried Duncan and Snow White’s estate in Sylvaria, but learned from the dwarfs that the couple had moved out.

“I suppose you’d like to know where they went,” Frank the dwarf said, somehow making it sound like an insult.

“Yes, I would,” Frederic replied.

“Just what I thought,” Frank grumbled. And he walked away.

Frederic had no doubt that if he showed up on the doorsteps of Avondell Palace, Liam would offer him a room. But Liam’s wife would be there, also—and Briar Rose was not a person with whom Frederic cherished the thought of being roomies.

After thirteen weeks on the road, and with nowhere else to go, Frederic headed back to Harmonia. He arrived outside the palace at twilight but couldn’t bring himself to actually reenter the gates. Instead, he led his horse, Gwendolyn, a few yards away, where he laid out a blanket and sat down against the palace’s wrought iron fence, gently caressing the gold-braid tassels that hung from the shoulder pads of his baby-blue suit. Eventually his eyelids drooped. But before he got a chance to dream about warm peach tarts and cardamom ice cream, he was awakened by a strange blue light mere inches from his face.

“Fairy!” he shrieked, before jumping to his feet and attempting—fruitlessly—to climb the fence.

“Wrong thing! Wrong thing!” he heard a twinkly voice call as he slid down the iron bars and landed gracelessly on the grass. He turned around and got a better look at the creature that had terrified him—a tiny woman, bathed in bluish light, hovering three feet off the ground. Frederic began to breathe a little easier.

“I, uh . . . I don’t know if you were trying to tell me that I was
doing
the wrong thing or that I had
called
you the wrong thing,” Frederic said softly, “but in either case, I think the latter is true. You’re
not
a fairy, are you?”

The little blue woman smiled, her silvery antennae twitching. “Wrong thing. Wrongety-wrong.”

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re a sprite,” Frederic said, remembering Rapunzel’s description of her otherworldly helpers.

“Right thing!” the sprite squealed, and she flew loops in the air.

Frederic grinned. “Sorry about my initial reaction,” he said, his cheeks reddening. “I’ve never actually met a sprite before. I thought you might be a fairy, and fairies make me nervous. Not that I’ve ever met a fairy either. But my friend Liam had a run-in with a very nasty one. You know the Sleeping Beauty story? Anyway . . . pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Prince Frederic.” He bowed.

“Of coursety you’s Frederic,” the sprite said with a giggle that sounded like sleigh bells. “Frederic is skinny like candy cane. Frederic wears clothes with golden spaghettis. Frederic never touchety dirt. You’s Frederic. Just like Zel say.”

Frederic frowned. “Is that really how Rapunzel described me?” Then he perked up. “No, wait. That doesn’t matter! Rapunzel described me! She sent you to find me?”

“Right thing!” The sprite mimicked his bow, hovering in midair. “Blink,” she said.

“Blink?”

“Blink!”

“Um, okay.” Frederic blinked his eyes.

The sprite shook her head and chuckled. She pointed to herself. “This is Blink.”

“Ah, your
name
is Blink. Well, Miss Blink, why did Rapunzel send you to me?”

“Zel needs helpety-help. Too many forest peoples been hurt lately. Zel said you help. Comety-come.”

“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be,” Frederic said. “I mean, I’ll go, of course. But I’m not exactly a skilled medic. And seeing as Rapunzel has magical healing tears anyway, I just wonder—”

“Comety-come!” Blink squeaked loudly.

“Right away!” Frederic sputtered as he folded his blanket and placed it neatly in Gwendolyn’s saddlebag. “Uh, Miss Blink? You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s
another
man, um . . . helping Rapunzel already? A very large man? With long, blond hair and questionable hygiene?”

“You not understand ‘comety-come’?”

Frederic hopped on his horse and followed the sprite all the way back to the cottage in Sturmhagen. He was relieved to see that Gustav was not present. Rapunzel, however, was not there either.

“Is anybody home?” Frederic called out. His answer came in the form of a second blip of blue light zooming up to his face—another sprite, male this time.

“You’s Frederic,” he said. “Skinny like candy cane.”

“Yes, that’s me.” Frederic sighed. He climbed down from his horse. “Is Rapunzel about?”

“Zel’s in forest. Too many patients. Busety-busy,” the sprite rattled off. “You wait here.”

“I can do that,” Frederic replied. “But, in the meantime, I suppose . . .” And then he realized that both sprites were gone, having already zipped off among the thickly clustered pines that lined the small valley. He took a deep breath. “Well, I suppose I’ll make myself comfortable.”

Fig. 1
DEEDLE and BLINK

That was when the hobgoblin limped out of the woods. Dripping with what was either sweat or slime, the rust-colored creature shambled toward Frederic. It was only half the prince’s height; but something about its long, pointed ears, bulbous nose, and jagged teeth told Frederic that this was not a creature to be messed with.

He ran into the cottage and slammed the door. But the thing outside began to knock. “My toe,” the hobgoblin moaned. “Hurts. So. Much.”

“Uh, Rapunzel’s not in right now,” Frederic said. “I’d be happy to take down your name and contact information.”

“Help me,” the monster sniffled through the door. “The golden lady says all who come to her cottage will be healed. Please.”

Frederic’s mind turned to thoughts of his favorite fictional hero. He asked himself,
What would Sir Bertram do?
No matter what kind of challenge he faced—be it an orc using uncouth language or a baroness eating her entrée from a dessert plate—Sir Bertram the Dainty remained calm, levelheaded, and, above all, polite. There was no question as to what the dandy knight would do in this situation.

“Okay,” Frederic said. “Let’s . . . uh, see what we have here.” He opened the door and cautiously stepped outside to see the drippy monster wobbling on one leg. “A hobbling hobgoblin. Heh. Try saying that five times fast. Well, I will hazard a guess that there is something wrong with your foot.”

“Yes,” the hobgoblin said. “Look!” It slapped its damp hands on Frederic’s shoulders and raised its bare foot toward the prince’s face, flaunting the three-inch-long shard of broken, splintery wood stuck in the fat flesh of its big toe.

That’s when Frederic passed out.

W
hen he opened his eyes, Frederic expected to see the grisly snarl of the hobgoblin. He was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by Rapunzel’s smiling face instead, her big eyes bright and her round cheeks dimpled.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. “But must you make me think you’re dead every time you show up at my house?”

“In my defense,” Frederic said, “I looked fine and healthy when I arrived here this time. You just happened to miss it. Lovely new dress, by the way. The blue brings out your eyes.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” she said, blushing slightly. She pulled her waist-length blond hair back and tied it into a massive ponytail. “But this is actually the same old white dress I’ve always had. I dyed it. Felt like it was time for a change.” She helped him up.

“Is someone playing a tambourine?” Frederic asked as he massaged the sore spot on the back of his head where his skull had hit the ground.

“That’s just Blink and Deedle,” Rapunzel said, nodding toward the two sprites hovering nearby. “They sound like that when they speak their own language. They must not want you to hear what they’re saying about you.”

“Why?” Frederic asked, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of his clothes. “Is it bad? Do you have a mirror?”

Rapunzel chuckled. “Relax, Frederic. I don’t understand a lot of sprite language, but I’m pretty sure they’re not mocking your appearance. I think they’re laughing at you for fainting.”

“Right thing!” Blink shouted gleefully.

Frederic loosened his collar. “How did you know I . . .” And then he noticed the hobgoblin sitting a few feet away on an overturned bucket. The creature waved its now splinter-free foot at him. “Ah, I see,” Frederic said. “
He
must have filled you in. Well, you see, it was a very
large
splinter, and—”

“It wasn’t just a splinter,” Rapunzel said. “It was an arrow. Part of one, anyway. Most of it had broken off when this poor fellow was running for help.”

“I was lucky to get away with my life,” the hobgoblin said. “They would have killed me for sure.”

“Who?” Frederic asked.

“Humans—big, ugly ones,” the creature said. “Of course, you
all
look big and ugly to me. No offense. But I didn’t do a thing to these guys. I was just out herding cats, minding my own business, when they came by and shot at me.”

Frederic turned to Rapunzel and whispered, “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she replied. “I’ve heard similar stories from other patients. An awful lot of forest dwellers have been attacked these past few weeks. Too many for me to handle on my own, frankly. Which is why I sent for you. I was hoping you’d be willing to assist me.”

“Assist how?”

“While I’m healing the more grievous injuries with my tears,” she said, “you would be taking care of the patients with, um . . . everyday problems.”

“Like splinters?”

“Yes, well . . .” She let out a short, uncomfortable laugh. “If I’d known you would be alone, I would have instructed the sprites to stay with you. I guess I expected you to bring Ella along.”

“You did?” Frederic slumped a bit. “Oh, yes, Ella . . . well, she and I . . . She and I have sort of gone our separate ways.”

“Oh!” Rapunzel’s eyebrows shot up. “I mean, that’s . . . Um, I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no need for condolences,” Frederic said. “It was mutual. She and I just weren’t right for each other. For example, on our way home from Rauberia, I wanted to stop for the night at an adorable little bed-and-breakfast called Granny Pumpkin’s Cozy Cottage—they offer twenty-four-hour scone service. But Ella insisted on an inn we saw named the Battered Kidney. At least that’s what I think it was called—there was an unconscious man draped over the sign. I didn’t think any place could be worse than the Stumpy Boarhound, but this one was. By the time I’d gotten our horses tied up outside, Ella was already involved in a brawl. I walked in to find her pouncing across the bar with a dagger between her teeth. That was when I started seriously rethinking our relationship.

“Don’t get me wrong—Ella and I will always be the best of friends. As long as she forgives me for letting her get banished from Harmonia, that is. But anyway . . .
I
was surprised to see that Gustav wasn’t here.”

“Gustav?” Rapunzel asked suspiciously. “Why would Gustav be here?”

“I don’t know,” Frederic blurted. He cleared his throat. “Just because, you know, he lives nearby. If you needed help, I thought maybe you’d ask him first.”

“I need a nurse,” Rapunzel said. “Someone gentle. With a good bedside manner. Does that sound like Gustav?”

Frederic laughed.

“If you stay, I promise it will get easier,” Rapunzel said. “I’ll have Blink and Deedle guide you through everything.”

“No, no, no! Nixety-nix!” cried Deedle, flying between them. “Our job is lookety for new patients; no time for helpety candy cane princes.”

“Where did this candy cane thing come from?” Frederic asked.

“Shushety, Deedle!” Blink squeaked, popping up next to her fellow sprite. “This what Zel needs, this what we do. And if Frederic fall-down-go-boompety again, at least we can finish jobs for him.”

“I really don’t think I went
boompety
,” Frederic mumbled. He turned to Rapunzel. “Couldn’t you just leave me with a bucket of your tears? It doesn’t sound too difficult if all I need to do is flick a drop at anyone who shows up.”

“I’m sorry,” she answered, shaking her head. “After we lost track of the vial I gave you in Deeb Rauber’s castle, I don’t feel comfortable doing that again. I would hate for my tears to be misused. And to be honest, I don’t want to waste any. We all assume that my magic will last forever, but what if it doesn’t? What if there’s only so much of it in me? What if there comes a time when tears I cry are just salty water?”

Frederic was silent.

“So will you do it?” Rapunzel asked, her big, hopeful eyes fixed on Frederic’s. “Will you help?”

He took a deep breath.
As if I could say no to you.
He nodded, and Rapunzel threw her arms around him.

“Morning!”

Lying on his cot in the stable, Frederic opened his eyes just in time to see Rapunzel tossing an apple to him. He tried to catch it, but it bounced off his face and landed in his lap.

“Sorry I can’t fix a better breakfast today,” she said hastily. “I’ve got an emergency to get to in Fluglesborg. The sprites are waiting. See you tonight.”

“Tonight?” he asked, still groggy. But Rapunzel had ridden off on her mare, Pippi. “Okay, then,” Frederic said. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, picked up the apple, and took it outside to wash it (the fruit had touched his pants, after all). On his way to the well, however, he was stopped in his tracks by a streak of blue light.

“New patient!” Deedle cried.

“Already?” Frederic combed his fingers through his sandy-brown hair. “But I must look a fright.”

“Right thing!” Blink chirped. She flew in from the forest with a sad-looking dog-man shuffling behind her.

“Can I change, at least?” Frederic asked. He was wearing one of his lavender silk “sleep suits.” And cashmere slippers.

“Dog-man. Now,” Deedle commanded.

Frederic huffed and turned to the patient. The dog-man nodded his scruffy terrier head toward his rear end and whimpered.

“Brokety tail,” Blink explained.

Frederic grimaced. “That looks painful.” He poked at the fractured tail, and the dog-man let out an ear-piercing howl.

“Wrong thing! Wrong thing!” the sprites shouted.

“I gathered that,” Frederic said. “Apologies, sir. Umm . . .”

“Tail hurts when tail moves,” Blink said helpfully.

“Ooh! We need to make a splint!” Frederic said. “Just like Sir Bertram the Dainty did in
The Case of the Overwaxed Dance Floor
when his squire, Niles Tibbets-Wick, stubbed his pinkie finger. Blink, Deedle—can you find me a piece of wood and some string?”

Five minutes later, the dog-man was panting happily as he trotted back into the woods with his newly splinted tail. And Frederic was feeling pretty darn proud of himself, which helped get him through the next several hours of treating patients, one right after another.

Later that afternoon, when Frederic had just waved good-bye to a squinting gnome for whom he’d sewn a very fashionable eye patch, Rapunzel returned. She rode out from the nearby trees and hopped down from her horse looking exhausted.

“Yay! Zel’s back!” Blink shouted.

“We can go now!” Deedle chirped. The sprites sped into the woods.

“So, what was the crisis in Fluglesborg?” Frederic asked.

“Another of these seemingly random attacks by armed men,” Rapunzel said. “Whoever they are, they’re marching across Sturmhagen from the east, and they’ll apparently attack anyone who crosses their path.”

“Hmm,” Frederic said, sitting down on a short log bench under the eave of the cottage. “I’d think they were Deeb Rauber’s guys, but the bandit army is more about stealing stuff than assaulting people. Maybe I should send for Liam.”

“Perhaps,” Rapunzel said, sitting down next to him even though there wasn’t much room on the bench. “How did things go here? I hope you weren’t overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed? Oh, not at all,” Frederic said, sitting a bit taller. “Piece of cake, actually. I handled the whole task quite masterfully, if I do say so myself.”

“Really?” Rapunzel sounded amused. “You’re still in your pajamas.”

Frederic looked down at himself. “Well, I didn’t say I was
under
whelmed. Not overwhelmed, not underwhelmed—just whelmed. I was whelmed.”

Rapunzel shook her head. “Frederic, I hope you realize you can be yourself around me. You don’t have to pretend you’re anything you’re not.”

“Oh, I’m not pretending,” he said earnestly. “I really am this awkward.”

“Good,” she said. “Because you and I, we’re . . . friends. And friends should feel comfortable with each other.”

Fig. 2
FREDERIC, oblivious

“I do feel comfortable. A little too comfortable, perhaps. I’ll go change out of my pj’s.” He started toward the barn when the sprites burst from the trees in a panic.

“Helpety! In the woods!” Blink shouted.

“What is it?” Rapunzel asked, standing up.

“He’s hurt!” Blink said.

“Who is?” Rapunzel asked.

“He said not to get Zel,” Deedle added, glaring at his partner. “Said he’s not hurt bad.”

“But it
is
bad!” Blink insisted. “Arrows in his back. Leg in a trap. Can’t walkety!”

“
Who?
” Frederic asked.

“Gustav,” both sprites said in unison.