“It’s a piece of junk, that’s what it is. Some goblin came hawkin’ these signs, promisin’ they’d never need washin’ nor repairin’! Well, that’s what you get for listenin’ to somethin’ that’s knee-high to a goose,” the woman said, completing her final harangue before genially asking, “What can I do for you folks?”
“Uh . . . well, for starters, where’s everybody else?” asked Robin. He was also about to ask why the town was such a dump, when Marianne, anticipating such a rude query, jabbed him sharply in the ribs.
“Well, it didn’ used to be like this. We once had folks runnin’ all about, conductin’ all sorts o’ business. But then Princess Penelope, she went and got all magicked up and all these suitors came from all over and tried to cure her, but it twasn’t no good ’cause Penelope stayed all dead-like. An every mornin’ each prince or pauper that was supposed to be guardin’ her,” the woman leaned forward and paused dramatically, “was nowhere to be seen!”
“Really?” asked Marianne, her eyes growing wide at the thought of something so tremendously mysterious and romantic.
“Sure as a goblin is a thief,” said the woman, her tabby orange curls bouncing up and down as she nodded. “So after a bit, the word got ’round that Rainbow City was no place to be livin’. Now it’s Sadness City.”
“Where can I get something to eat?” interrupted Robin. Marianne and the old woman shot furious glances at him for intruding on so enthralling a tale. “In here,” said the proprietor, nodding her head at the door to the tavern. As they went inside, the bear sign growled crossly.
Partaking in the welcome meal, Marianne listened with eager ears to how the kingdom’s princess had broken the heart of a witch’s son, thereby incurring the wrath of the witch, who had cast a spell on Penelope, sending the princess into a deep sleep.
“That is so amazing,” Marianne said, clearing her plate after her meal, “But what prompted so many suitors to risk their lives?”
“Well, I’m sure the ten thousand gold pieces helped and th—” the woman began.
“Ten THOUSAND gold pieces!” sputtered Robin, nearly choking. “Which way to the castle?”
“Well, it’s down that road and to the left. But as I was sayin’—” she tried to continue, but Robin had already thrown the crown onto the table and ushered Marianne outside.
Chapter the Ninth
“We can’t just head down to the nearest castle and try our luck at princess reviving!” complained Marianne, tagging after Robin as he strode down the street. “You’re the one who says we need a plan!”
“Exactly. My plan is to have gold coins pouring out of my ears,” replied Robin, rubbing his hands and running his tongue across his lips. “But first, we need a sword!” he cried, a brilliant flash coming across his eyes as he bounded into a nearby store. Its sign, swinging precariously by one hinge, had originally portrayed a knight cutting a log in two. However, the chipped sign had been repainted to substitute a goblin for the log.
Marianne waited outside, hearing Robin’s raised voice as he tried to barter with the owner. “Well, no, I can’t pay you now. But I guarantee, after we rescue the princess—”
Marianne listened as mocking laughter leaked through the cracked window. She cringed and rolled the dragonfly ball around in her pocket before pulling it out. Clouds of ash blew down the street, whipping in and out of the ramshackle buildings. She tried to shut her eyes, but the minuscule particles pried through and stung them anyway. Abandoning her position, she sought asylum inside. It took an instant for her pupils to adjust to the dimness, and all Marianne could do was smell the rank odor of open whiskey bottles. Marianne saw row upon row of empty shelves as she advanced purposefully to Robin’s side. An unshaven, sinewy man, shifting nervously, was standing behind a counter. Marianne clutched her glass ball as she laid her hands on the display case. “Well now,” the owner said, slightly slurring his words, “I’ll give you a little something for that trinket.”
“It’s not for sale,” said Marianne sharply. The man looked up at her face. He had shadows outlining his black eyes, and he stared impolitely at Marianne. He gave a smirk, his eyes still fixed on Marianne. “I’m not for sale, either,” said Marianne in a deadpan voice. “Let’s go, Robin.”
“Huh?” said Robin, looking up from the weapons showcase. Marianne grabbed his arm and whispered to him as they walked out the door. “Hey! She’s my sister!” cried Robin, struggling against Marianne to go back and fight the shopkeeper.
The wind was revving up, and farther down the road a castle was barely visible above gray smog. Marianne let go of Robin’s sleeve, and pushed against the sharp wind. “Robin, we’ll be out of this village soon. Do you want to take Leo? Robin?” Marianne asked, turning around. Robin was nowhere to be seen. “Robin!” Marianne called. In an instant the wind failed, but not before a final gust at Marianne tangled her ebony hair about her face. Pulling it away, she saw Robin coming out of the shop they had just left. In his hand, he carried a lustrous sword, its blade glinting in the daylight. Robin hurried over to join her. He was examining the sword carefully, balancing it in his hand, a beam upon his face. As they departed for the castle, Marianne admired the glistening weapon. “What did you give the shop keeper for it?” she asked, as Robin practiced his swordplay. Robin stopped his parrying and gave a low laugh. “His life,” he replied, slicing the air with a quick movement.
As they made their way past the town limits, Marianne asked, “Robin, can we use Leo yet?”
“Not yet. I really don’t want anyone to see us flying about on a glorified, fire-breathing bellows,” Robin said impatiently.
“But did you notice how fast Leo could turn into his other state?” asked Marianne, holding up her dragonfly ball. “No one would suspect a thing.”
“Unless he switched conditions midair, in which case I would definitely notice. And I don’t want you to break that ball open until we need him. After all that flying, he’s going to be hungry,” warned Robin.
“Fine,” said Marianne resentfully. “I’ll be a good girl and walk with gaping holes in my shoes to liberate a princess I’ve never met and—”
“And have more money than the king himself,” Robin finished. “I just hope we can get there before dark,” he said, watching the sun gild the edges of clouds as it dipped towards the horizon. The castle was hardly close, and Marianne and Robin forced their exhausted selves to toil onward; only minutes were left before nightfall. Halfway up the hill leading to the palace’s opulent entrance, Marianne heard a faint sound. She seized Robin’s shirt.
“Listen,” said Marianne.
“Help! Please help me!” cried a pitiful voice from the overgrown bushes by the side of the path. Marianne and Robin hurried over. Using his sword, Robin parted the bushes. Lying contorted in a pool of green blood, an injured goblin turned his pitiful face toward Marianne and Robin. “Please—” With effort, he raised a frail arm in the direction of the pair, before letting it fall. Marianne recoiled at the sight, retreating back to the path. Oh, that’s disgusting. But shouldn’t I do something?
“Well, we’d better get going,” said Robin, pulling his sword from the bush. “We’re losing time.”
“Is he . . .” Marianne’s voice trembled, and words failed her.
“No. But soon. I think it’s best if we leave it in peace,” said Robin, glancing behind him as more moans emanated from the bush.
“Robin, we are not leaving here until