How to Rescue a Dead Princess Read Online Free PDF

wakeys!”
    “Your sarcasm is only delaying matters,” Scar told him. “This forest is less than a month old. It sprouted up from nothing at the whim of a witch ... I think her name's Grysh. She lives in the center of a graveyard deep within this forest, and the rumors are that she has the power to raise the dead. At least that's the idea I got from all the zombies guarding her place.”
    “You think she'd help us?” Randall asked.
    “Well, no, she'll probably just try to kill you until she gets to know you better. But you haven't got much to lose. I dunno, maybe she'll act differently toward a knight.”
    “What about my follow-up question?” asked Sir William.
    “Why? The only ransom I'm going to get out of her now is a little extra cash from somebody who wants to buy charcoal briquettes. Knights don't work as hostages, because everyone expects them to save themselves, and nobody cares about squires. Plus you're no longer chained, and thus in a good position to hurt me.”
    “Will you take us to this witch?” asked Sir William.
    “No, but I'll draw you a map. You guys carry the princess and follow me back to our fort—it's just a few minutes away.”
    Scar picked up the crystal, as Sir William and Randall each got on separate ends of the princess and lifted her. “Ow!” “Dang!” “Ouch!” “Crud!” “ Eeep !” “Too hot!”
    They set her down. “Do you have any gloves?” asked Sir William.
    “Or some cold water to pour on her?” asked Randall.
    Scar rolled her eyes. “Don't be such pansies. Think of the pain you'll suffer when the king's men catch you.”
    Randall and Sir William exchanged a concerned glance, then picked up the princess again, doing their best to ignore the hot pain, though their best involved a great deal of profanity.
    “Do you think we'll need those ashes?” inquired Randall, looking back.
    “Maybe,” said Sir William. “I'm more worried about that foot.”
    “Is that a foot?”
    “I think so. I'm missing one on my end.”
    “Here, set her down. I'll get it.”
    They placed her gently on the ground, took a moment to massage their blistering hands, then Randall picked up the foot and tried to find a good place to set it. Her mouth was wide open ... but he decided against that for several reasons and just placed it on her chest.
    They continued following Scar. “Whoops,” Randall said.
    “What?”
    “Ummm ... nothing. Just thought I'd say ‘whoops.'”
    “What part did we lose?” Sir William demanded.
    “I'm not sure. That big one on the ground.”
    “Will you guys hurry up?” asked Scar.
    “Could you run ahead and get us a bag or something?” Sir William asked.
    “Uh-oh,” said Randall.
    “What?”
    “Ummm ... nothing. That was a good ‘uh-oh.'”
    “You have to be more careful, squire! Did the head break when it fell?”
    “No, it looks okay.”
    “Then put it on top with the rest.”
    * * * *

    THE FORT consisted of a group of crudely-built wooden structures that looked like a hearty belch could knock them over. Scar's men sat around, some of them playing cards while others prepared for their weekly arts and crafts show. Randall, Sir William, and Scar sat at a table in her private structure. Princess Janice was contained in a large leather sack.
    Scar finished drawing a map on a piece of parchment. “It should only take you an hour or so to get there,” she explained, “but the forest is very thick and you can get lost easily. When you finally meet the witch, don't tell her I sent you or she'll shred you on the spot. And don't comment on her nose.”
    “What's wrong with her nose?” Randall asked.
    “She doesn't have one.”
    “How does she smell?”
    If she says “Awful" , thought Sir William, I'm going to scream and run from room to room shrieking incoherent curses and expose myself to each and every man present then stretch my lips around the back of my neck and tie them together in a bow and then hop around as my eyes spin in wild