Chapter Twelve
Last night, we’d returned from our shopping trip too late and too tired to continue quest preparations. I’d intended to sleep in, so why was someone banging on the door just after sunrise?
Groaning, I covered my head with a pillow to block out the light and noise.
The door opened against my wishes and a heavy weight thumped onto my mattress, bouncing me harshly until I rolled over. Delilah ripped the pillow from my face as she exclaimed, “Wake up, Trey! The Good Wizard has arrived!”
Already? Fitz had only sent the letter two days ago; I’d thought we’d have longer. “Alright, get out so I can dress,” I said, shoving Delilah off my bed.
She tumbled over in a somersault and landed on all fours, then scampered out of the room.
A few minutes later, face washed and dressed in clean clothes, I stepped into the common area. Delilah ran around the room, chanting, “We’re off to meet the wizard!” while my fathers waited patiently at the table.
“Breakfast?” Father offered, holding a plate out to me.
“No time, no time!” Delilah cried. “He’s waiting for us!”
“Why are you so excited?” I asked as I took the offered plate.
“It’s the Good Wizard,” Delilah emphasized. “The strongest mage in the land! No offense, Uncle Rick.”
Dad waved her off. “None taken.”
I narrowed my eyes at Delilah, suspecting the real reason she cared about a powerful mage. “You can’t ask him to turn you into a cat.”
She froze, ears perked and fluffy tail standing on end. Then she stuck her tongue out at me and declared, “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“We’re about to embark on a quest!”
“He’s right, kitten,” Dad said, softening his voice. “Cats don’t make practical adventurers. Besides, your parents would kill me if I left with their child and returned with a pet.”
“I’ll be their daughter either way,” she insisted.
“Yes, but I’m sure they’d prefer one who speaks rather than meows.”
Father stayed out of the argument, engrossed in his paperwork. He reached for his empty coffee cup and would have taken a sip of air if Dad hadn’t noticed in time and refilled it for him. Their movements had the ease of longtime companionship.
How many quiet mornings had I shared with them, just like this? How many more would we have left?
A rock settled in my stomach, leaving no room for breakfast. I set my plate down and said, “Alright, are you ready—”
Delilah grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the room, racing down the hall.
My fathers followed at a more sedate pace, and Dad called, “Princesses don’t run in hallways!”
“Yes, we do!”
A large party had gathered in the front courtyard for the Good Wizard’s arrival.
The other champions had already arrived.
Maximus stood with his mother while Angelica stood with her father.
Since Misfortune was the host kingdom, all of Fitz’s family had attended: father, mother, and his twin older sisters.
The old man at the center of the crowd wore bright blue robes decorated with large gold stars.
His long white beard was thrown over one shoulder and his pointy hat was slightly askew, slipping over one ear.
As he spoke, he raised a hand to fix the hat, but it simply slipped again the moment he let go.
“I always miss the show,” Father said with mild amusement.
“Show?” I asked.
“When he came to Woe for the wedding, he arrived in a flying carriage led by winged horses,” Dad explained. “With fireworks in the sky. How did he arrive this time?”
“I don’t know,” Delilah replied. “No one was here to see it.”
Father’s brow furrowed. “Really? Maybe he’s getting too old to put on a show. He must be what … a hundred by now?”
“Does he age normally?” Dad asked. “Or does he skip the years he doesn’t feel like living?”
Before I could ask what he meant, the Good Wizard spotted us. “Aha!” he exclaimed, pulling away from his crowd of admirers. “Now that all of the royal champions are here, we must find a private place to speak.”
“We’ve already made arrangements,” Queen Davina said, gliding forward out of the crowd. Instead of leaving the job to one of her attendants, she led the way to the meeting room.
The Good Wizard gestured for the royal champions to precede him, then held up his hand when the first parent tried to enter. “Royal champions only.”
Queen Davina’s smile faltered. “As their parents, we would like to know what dangers they are about to face.”
The Good Wizard shook his head gravely. “I’m afraid that’s not permitted. Messes with the spell, you know, if the wrong people are too involved.”
Our parents exchanged uneasy looks before Queen Davina bowed her head. “If you’re sure. We will await you in the grand dining room.”
“Let us know if you need anything,” Father said.
Dad lingered, staring at the Good Wizard, dark eyes narrowed. He only moved when Father touched his arm and whispered in his ear. Dad shook his head, and they left together.
The Good Wizard shut the door and ushered everyone to take a seat at the table. “Prince Fitzroy’s letter”—his eyes skated back and forth between Fitz and Maximus before settling on Fitz—“stated that you needed help choosing a proper quest.”
“Yes,” Fitz said, fumbling through the notes he’d brought. He found what he wanted and handed it to the Good Wizard. “We made a list of our top choices, and we hoped you could help us define a ‘great and terrible’ evil.”
The Good Wizard scanned the list, his lips pressing into a thin line until they disappeared into his white beard. “How did you choose these quests?”
“I’ve been collecting pamphlets and guides,” Fitz explained, pulling out one as an example.
The Good Wizard took it, examined it, then unceremoniously tossed it over his shoulder. “That pamphlet was published two years ago; half of the quests are no longer valid.”
Fitz watched the mistreatment of his collection in dismay. “I hadn’t realized,” he trailed off and sent apologetic looks around the table.
“The Star-Devouring Horror was subdued by a team of knights last year,” the Good Wizard explained. “And the Dread Lord of Bones and Teeth got married last month. His army recruitment is on hiatus, and he has filed with both councils for a six-month honeymoon period.”
“They’re allowed to do that?” Angelica asked.
The Good Wizard’s bushy white eyebrows bunched in disapproval. “We do have rules, young lady. We only engage with evil mages who actively pursue villainy.”
“But he’ll continue to build his army once he finishes his honeymoon!”
“He might, he might not. You’re welcome to vanquish him if you must, but it will not fulfill the requirements of the Kingdom Defense Spell.”
She scoffed. “I’m not doing additional work without a reward.”
“I didn’t think so.” The Good Wizard returned to reviewing the list. “Neither council has dubbed the King of Gilde a ‘great and terrible’ evil.”
“Why not?” Maximus demanded, bracing himself against the table and leaning toward the Good Wizard. “He’s oppressed his kingdom, imposed prejudiced class systems, and levied outrageous taxes! Isn’t that evil?”
The Good Wizard remained unmoved by Maximus’ argument. “Evil? Yes. Terrible? Certainly. Great? No.”
“What defines ‘great?’” Fitz asked.
“In this case, it means ‘beyond normal expectations.’ A king abusing his people is, unfortunately, typical behavior. If he were a mage king, subjugating his people through magic, that would be one thing. However, he has used only mundane means.”
Maximus crossed his arms and thumped back into his chair, disappointed with the Good Wizard’s analysis.
Fitz ran a hand through his tawny hair, mussing the stylish swoop. “Are any of our quest ideas viable?”
“Well, you have a list of mages here, some of whom the councils have already dubbed ‘great and terrible’: The Prince of Shadows, the Beast Baron, the Soul Stealer. And you’ve listed breaking the curse on the Grimnight Forest. The council has been scratching their heads over that particular conundrum for years now. ”
“Wasn’t that your suggestion, Trey?” Delilah asked, drawing everyone’s attention to me when I’d done such a good job avoiding their scrutiny.
The Good Wizard looked straight at me, his ancient black eyes deep and penetrating. Did he know I wasn’t really Bane Royalty? Could he see the geas binding me, or an evil stain over my heart?
I resisted the urge to shrink away from his gaze and stared placidly back at him. “Yes, I thought the backstory was interesting.”
“Does breaking a curse qualify as ‘defeating’ a great and terrible evil?” Fitz asked. “I assumed we’d have to, you know—” he mimed stabbing the air.
“Heroes do not need to kill evil doers to defeat them,” the Good Wizard replied.
“Thwarting their evil plots is enough. Breaking the curse on the forest would save the nearby towns and allow the old residents who once fled their homes to return. However, if the Lord of Grimnight awaits you at the heart of the curse, you will not have an easy fight.”
“Lord of Grimnight?” Fitz asked, sitting up straighter. “Do you mean the mage who first laid the curse?”
“Yes, he disappeared at the same time, though the council believes he is biding his time to enact a much more sinister plot.”
Adding an evil mage to the mix convinced Fitz. “All in favor of breaking the curse on the Grimnight Forest?”
Since it was my idea, I raised my hand. Delilah pursed her lips in thought, then slowly raised her hand as well. After a few seconds, Maximus followed suit.
Only Angelica stubbornly sat with her arms crossed. “I’m not trudging through some stupid forest hoping we can break the curse. It could take months to find the solution. Or years! And what if there’s no evil mage at the center?”
Trust me, there is.
“Evil comes in many forms,” the Good Wizard stated. “It lingers long after people have set it in motion. Whether you face the mage or simply untangle his sinister plot, you have done good in the world.”
We all stared at Angelica. The quest was supposed to unite the kingdoms. If she continued arguing, the others might second-guess the choice and turn their attention somewhere else.
Rolling her eyes, she finally raised her hand in the air. “Fine, we can save the Grimnight Forest.”
“Excellent,” Fitz said, clapping his hands together. “Now that we have a firm objective, we can spend the next few weeks plotting our route, researching curses—”
“I’m afraid you don’t have time, Prince Fitzroy,” The Good Wizard interrupted. “Once you chose this path, the spell began to thin. Already evil lurks in the shadows.”
My heart pounded at the Good Wizard’s accusation. Was he talking about me? Wilde? Or something else that had slipped through the cracks? Had something worse than the old man already set their sights on the Desolated Lands?
But the Good Wizard didn’t elaborate as he declared, “If you delay too long, you will lose your chance to complete the spell at all, and your kingdoms will be vulnerable once more.”
Angelica scowled. “Our parents never mentioned that. Where does the spell mention a time limit?”
The Good Wizard narrowed his eyes at her.
“Young lady, I wrote the spell, don’t you think I know it the best of anyone?
” To prove himself, he pulled a tightly bound scroll from his pocket and flicked it sharply.
It rolled open, stretching across the table, falling over the edge, and bouncing all the way to the closed door.
He placed a pair of half-moon spectacles on his nose, shifted through the scroll until he found the proper section, and read aloud: “Under Article Thirteen, Section C: Once the Intent is Spoken, Action is Imperative. Planning weddings, embarking on quests, etcetera, etcetera, you get the picture.”
“Actually, I don’t think we—”
The scroll snapped back into a tight roll and disappeared into the Good Wizard’s sleeve before Fitz finished protesting.
“You have one month,” the Good Wizard said, passing Fitz’s notes back to him. “The curse must be lifted on the Grimnight Forest before then, or the Kingdom Defense Spell will fall, and the Desolated Lands will be at the mercy of every evil known to man.”
“What?” Delilah shrieked.
“I knew this was a bad choice,” Angelica muttered.
Fitz’s eyes widened. “Can we change our mind—”
Purple smoke exploded around us. It clogged my nose and mouth, choking me and causing a harsh, wet coughing fit. Amidst the chaos, I heard the soft scrape of a door closing.
By the time the smoke settled, and we confirmed no one had choked to death, the Good Wizard was gone. We were alone, five royal champions who had gone from ‘well prepared’ to ‘fuck, what do we do?’ in less than an hour.
Fitz coughed a few more times, spewing purple spittle. “We”—cough, cough—“ugh, couldn’t he use a less hazardous method to disappear?” He cleared his throat and announced, “We need to leave today. Right now, in fact.”