Interruption Four
Present Day
Outside an Unregulated Pocket Dimension
About to Embark on a Quest
“This is ridiculous,” the man muttered. He wasn’t allowed to use his title anymore, but he refused to use the name they assigned him.
“Hold still,” the queen ordered, and he obeyed. Then Queen Francesca of Woe returned to the important work of painting his face.
The moment she finished with one product, he began speaking again, “I do not need—what even is this?” He snatched up a pot of black powder and waved it in her face. “Whatever this is!”
“Kohl,” she replied. “It’s for your eyes.”
Lucinda peeked over the queen’s shoulders and giggled at the results.
The man scowled at her.
“Oh, that’s a perfect expression!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in approval. “Keep it on for as long as possible.”
The man’s scowl deepened.
“No, no, that’s too far. Now you look unpleasant rather than menacing.”
Cyril entered the inn carrying a bundle of cloth. “How is the transformation going, my love? And my, uh, dear friend?” He seemed uncertain in how to address Francesca now that she’d gone from princess to queen. Somehow, he settled on increased affection rather than reverence.
“Quite well,” Francesca replied, smoothing her fingers over the man’s face to force his scowl out of existence. Then she stretched one of his eyes and began blackening them.
“I brought your new wardrobe, Godwin.”
Godwin Whittaker. That was the name they’d assigned him, allowing him to at least keep his initials. Now that it’d been said out loud, Godwin couldn’t help but think of himself as such.
“What is that?” Godwin demanded.
“Pants,” Cyril said with a straight face as he held up the trousers. “I know you’ve never worn them before, but I thought you would at least recognize them.”
Godwin clutched the long length of his starry robe protectively. “Why can’t I wear a robe? Plenty of evil mages wear robes.”
“Yes, but those evil mages aren’t trying to distance themselves from their identities in order to sneak past a barrier specifically designed to keep them out.” Cyril threw the pants at Godwin, who flinched away, allowing them to fall onto the bed beside him.
Francesca stopped trying to paint her squirming model and put her hands on her hips. “I told you to hold still. If you can’t follow simple instructions, maybe we should do this without you.”
Godwin straightened immediately and forced his body into statue stillness.
This lasted for about five seconds before he began to monologue.
“This region is under my protection. Wilde is a threat to our continent, our lands, and the very fabric of reality. I cannot allow you to endanger yourself by joining us on this quest, Your Majesty. I insist you—”
“Shut it,” Francesca snapped. She reinforced the order by grabbing Godwin’s cheeks and forcing his mouth closed, then began applying black paint to his lips.
“This apprentice has endangered my wife, my daughter, and my brother.” After a pause, she added, “And my brother’s husband.
” She didn’t seem nearly as concerned about Prince Brendon as the rest of them.
“I will do whatever I can to save them, whether it be facing an evil mage, or trying to apply a disguise to a man who sits worse than a squirming toddler!”
Godwin’s shoulders hunched, cowed by her lecture but still doing the opposite of what she asked.
She sighed in exasperation and released his face. She exchanged the makeup for a small hand mirror and held it up so he could see his reflection.
Blackened eyes, blackened lips, and bone white skin stared back at him. She’d also dyed his beard and hair black.
He looked like a furry skull.
Godwin petulantly grabbed the mirror and tossed it to the other side of the bed.
“At least he doesn’t have the pompous attitude of a good wizard anymore,” Cyril muttered. Then he raised his voice and said, “Remember, you aren’t pretending to be Godwin Whittaker, apprentice to an evil mage. Until this mission is done, you are Godwin Whittaker, and you are my apprentice.”
“I have been a good wizard for longer than you’ve been alive—”
“And that doesn’t matter, because there are no upwards age limits for starting an apprenticeship.
As long as you are over the age of thirteen, you are eligible.
So, from today on, I will be teaching you the ways of evil.
Beginning with observing an evil mage’s plot from afar. Now, get dressed and meet us outside.”
Godwin grudgingly gathered up the clothes Cyril had provided him. “If this doesn’t work …”
“Then we’ll leave you behind and find the apprentice ourselves.”
Ten minutes later, dressed from head to toe in black, Godwin slouched down the stairs and out to the front lawn where his companions waited.
The pocket dimension had not yet overtaken this town, but the good wizards had evacuated it to prevent any other people from being sucked into it.
For now, the border lay quiescent, content to remain the same size, but it would soon grow and swell and devour more lands for its master.
“Everyone ready?” Cyril asked.
His wife looped her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder. The queen’s lips set in a grim line, and she nodded regally.
Godwin sighed. “Yes, I’m ready.”
“Excellent.” Cyril and his wife stepped through the bubble, disappearing into the pocket dimension. Francesca was a single step behind them, passing though the barrier as if it simply didn’t exist.
Godwin took a deep breath. “I am Godwin Whittaker, apprentice to the Prince of Shadows.” He inched forward with every word until he reached the very edge of the barrier. “I am Godwin Whittaker, apprentice to—”
With his next step, he passed through the barrier. It brushed against his skin with the thin liquidity of a bubble, and then disappeared.
He had successfully infiltrated the pocket dimension.
Now, to find the villain controlling it.