“Hey, Mr. Mini-Cape, I see you’ve got yourself a ride this time,” Gustav said, noticing Duncan’s horse.
“Ah, yes,” Duncan said. “Allow me to introduce Papa Scoots Jr. As you surely remember, the original Papa Scoots ran away last year. I thought I’d never have a horse like that again. But as luck would have it, one autumn morning, this fine beast wandered into Papa Scoots’s old stable. To make it even more of a coincidence, he looks exactly like Papa Scoots! So I had to name him Papa Scoots Jr. It’s like fate.”
“Um, Duncan,” Frederic said tentatively. “Did you ever consider that maybe Papa Scoots just found his way back home? That this is Papa Scoots?”
“Impossible,” Duncan said. “Papa Scoots hated me.” And with that, Papa Scoots Jr. kicked Duncan into a bush.
“All right, we’ve got business to attend to,” Gustav said. “Enough horsing around.”
Frederic chuckled. “That was funny, Gustav.”
Gustav frowned. “It wasn’t meant to be. What are we waiting for? I heard you guys say the wedding was going to start any minute now. How do we get in?”
“Well, for that we need one more person,” Frederic said. A rustling rose from some nearby shrubbery. “I hope that’s her now.”
Lila struggled between two bushes, snagging her very expensive-looking magenta gown on several branches as she did (not that it seemed to bother her at all). “Hey, you’re all here,” the girl said happily.
Lila, Liam’s tweenage sister, shared her bother’s coffee-toned complexion and green eyes. She had the sleeves of her gown rolled up, and her chestnut hair curled into tight ringlets that bounced like little springs when she walked. (The hairstyle was completely her mother’s idea.)
Ella and Frederic introduced her to the other princes.
“Lila has a way to sneak us into the wedding,” Frederic explained. “We knew that, as a member of the groom’s family, she would have an invitation. So we figured she’d be the perfect inside man—or girl—for this job.”
“Happy to do it,” Lila said. “Follow me, everybody. We don’t have much time. The music has started, and the circus people are already performing.”
“Circus people?” Frederic asked, suddenly looking as if someone had a sword pointed at his heart. “What circus?”
“Oh, it’ll be a great diversion, actually,” Lila said. “Briar’s got some acrobats from the Flimsham Brothers Circus warming up the crowd for her.”
“Flimsham?” Frederic gulped. He took a staggering step backward and gripped a nearby tree trunk for support. “I can’t go out there.”
“Why not?” Ella asked.
“El Stripo,” Frederic said.
Ella, Gustav, and Duncan responded with a collective “Ahhh.” They’d all heard the story of how King Wilberforce used El Stripo—the Flimsham Brothers’ talented circus tiger—to terrify Frederic when he was a little boy. The experience of being engulfed by the mouth of a raging tiger (even a toothless one) had scarred him for life.
“Don’t worry, Frederic. I’m sure that same tiger isn’t still with the circus,” Ella said. “Do tigers even live that long?”
“Not when I’m around,” Gustav quipped.
“Let’s work this out scientifically,” Duncan said, tapping a finger to his head. “A tiger is what you get when a cat and a zebra have a baby. Cats have an average lifespan of about ten years, while zebras get about twenty-five—”
“Guys!” Lila said sharply. “Anyone who’s part of this rescue needs to come with me now.” She turned and began to head through the trees.
“She’s right; let’s go,” Frederic said. He turned to Smimf. “I’ll pay you a bonus if you stay here and watch our horses.”
“Absolutely, sir, Your Highness, sir,” Smimf said. “I don’t think they’re going to do much. But I’ll watch.”
Frederic and the others trailed after Lila as she sneaked along the palace’s outer wall.
“I bribed a guard to open the back gate and then disappear, so that’s your way in,” Lila whispered. “The wedding is being held in the big garden behind all the animal-shaped hedges. They’ve already got Liam out there, chained to the altar.”
As soon as they were on the palace grounds, huddled together on a cobblestone path, Gustav closed the gate behind them. There was a loud clink as its bolt-lock fell back into place.
Lila frowned. “I hope that wasn’t your escape route,” she said.
Awkward pause.
“Oh, man,” Lila said, growing distraught. “You guys don’t actually know how you’re going to rescue Liam, do you?”
“Well,” Frederic said. “We figured out how to get inside the gates.”
“I got you inside the gates,” Lila said in a harsh whisper. “Me—the kid! What are you going to do from here?”
“Liam’s really the planner of our team,” Frederic said, trying to hide his face in the collar of his jacket.
Ella cleared her throat. This was the kind of test-your-mettle challenge she’d been longing for. A year earlier, when she fled Frederic’s palace in search of adventure, she had ended up getting more than her fair share of thrills. But despite several near-death experiences, she’d been aching for more action ever since. “Don’t worry, Lila. I can think quick on my feet. Remember how you and I dealt with those goblins last summer? We’ll figure this out, too. Trust me.”
Lila did trust Ella. “Okay,” she said. Suddenly the sounds of trumpets, drums, and glockenspiels filled the air, followed by explosive bursts of cannon fire.
“It’s starting!” Lila said. “I’ve got to get back to my seat. Good luck!” And she dashed off to find her place among the wedding guests.
Ella surveyed the rows upon rows of hedges cut to resemble animals like bobcats, dragons, elephants, and guinea pigs (generations of Avondellian royal gardeners had been working toward the goal of having a shrub shaped like every animal in existence; after seven decades of working alphabetically, they’d only gotten as far as “iguana”).
“Come on, we need to hurry,” Ella said brusquely. She drew her sword and headed for the topiary bushes.
“Wait, who put you in charge?” Gustav asked.
“The bards did,” Ella said.
Gustav huffed but scrambled after her anyway.
“What’s the plan?” Frederic asked.
“See that tree in the far corner? That’s our new escape route,” Ella said in the gruff tone she imagined all military commanders used. “We bust Liam out of his chains, climb that tree, and head back out over the wall.”
“And if anybody gets in our way?” Frederic asked.
“We knock them down,” Ella answered.
Gustav grinned. “I think I like you, Boss Lady.”
The quartet crawled between the legs of a buffalo-shaped hedge. From beneath the “belly” of the bush, they looked out on the wedding. At least five hundred silver chairs had been set up in the enormous garden, and every one of them held a dignified, important, and very wealthy guest. Behind the audience, practically hidden by massive arrangements of roses, orchids, lilies, and snapdragons, stood dozens of musicians playing what was presumably a wedding march. (The song sounded more like a battle hymn than a bridal tune, but hey, that’s Briar Rose. . . . ) In grandstand bleachers behind the