Rude Awakening

"Okay, it couldn't have gone far, right? . . . Somewhere in this building . . . is our talent."

I seem to be regaining some of my writing ability. This is the opening chapter of a new story I'm working on. The chapter is called "Rude Awakening." The story has no title, yet, but I can tell you that this story is not part of the 13 series. Yes, I do write things other than the adventures of Tabbitha and Samantha and all the rest. I just haven't posted many of them here, yet. So, here's a story I've been working on about a waking princess.

Untitled
Chapter 1: Rude Awakening

Lina awoke to a peculiar experience. It was like a dream that she hadn't quite awakened from. Or a memory. She was vaguely aware of a hand on her face, a pair lips touching hers. A lock of hair tickled her forehead. She moaned softly as the feeling subsided, and opened her eyes. A handsome face, with jet black hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a prince's crown, was immediately above her. A realization came to the young princess. This man–this handsome prince–had just kissed her, thus awakening her from her too deep sleep. She sat up slowly, and gazed into his eyes. Truly, this called for immediate action.

She took a deep breath . . . and smacked him across the face as hard as she possibly could.

"You unspeakable cad!" Lina screeched, as only she could. "How dare you!"

The prince, still reeling from the smack–which had, after all, been surprising, as well as painful–decided that this was the time to say something intelligent and eloquent.

"Huh?" he said, intelligently and eloquently.

"Oh, don't act like you didn't know what you were doing! Do you have any idea what price my father will put on your head? What did you think . . . you'd just have your way with me before I woke up? I thought Princes had better manners than that . . . but in the end, I guess you are just a typical male!"

"But . . . but . . ." the Prince said, seeming flustered. "I've . . . just saved your life, Princess! I fought my way through the castle's defenses and roused you from your slumber with my kiss of true love!" Lina looked at him in sheer disbelief.

"What, a gentle shake on the shoulder wasn't good enough for you?" she exclaimed. "And what do you mean, ‘saved my life?' I just took a nap! Aren't I entitled to a bit of beauty sleep without some horny Prince thinking he needs to kiss me awake?"

"You hardly need the beauty sleep, Your Highness," the Prince said, finding his charm again.

"Don't try to flatter me!" Lina yelled. She had heard this phrase, and variants of it, for too long from too many men, to be affected by it. It was true that she was quite fair–flowing blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a slenderness most girls only dreamed of, as befitted a princess–but it was also true that she was not as beautiful as her sisters, and that anyone telling her she was pretty was usually pretext for, "So, do you think you could introduce me to . . ?" It was the perpetual frustration of being the youngest of twelve girls. "You're evading the subject! Why did you wake me from my nap?"

"Begging your pardon, Princess . . . but you've been napping for quite a long time."

"So, I like to sleep in!" Lina said, growing more indignant. "Is this my parents' idea of a joke? I swear . . . every time I sleep a little past noon . . ." But then she stopped, and not just because the Prince was looking at her as though she was slow of intellect. Without thinking, she glanced down at the little finger on her right hand. Sure enough, there was a little scar there, as though a deep cut had not quite healed over properly. She looked a few feet from where the prince was standing and saw, covered in what appeared to be a hundred years' worth of cobwebs, a spindle and spinning wheel.

Lina's parents had never told her about the curse that had been placed on her shortly after her birth by an evil witch, or faerie, or some other being. Her elder sisters had, and at the time, Lina had been so scared that she had hidden in her bed and refused to come out from under the sheets. A concerned mother and father had assured her that the curse was made up by her sisters in an effort to scare her. Since then, she refused to believe the story, though it stuck vividly in her mind.

The evil being, furious for not being invited to the party celebrating Lina's birth, stated that on Lina's fifteenth birthday, shortly after pricking her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel, she would die a premature death. But the curse was amended by a second, good-natured being, saying that it would, instead, be a hundred year sleep that would plague the Princess. That was hardly any better, of course, and now here was Lina, one hundred years later, awakening from a very long nap.

She rushed over to the window and looked out. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be! But alas, the castle grounds were in sad repair. The gardens were overgrown with weeds, the walls were crumbling, and the climbing vines had come up to cover the entire castle. She peered out farther seeing that, not only the castle, but the entire kingdom seemed to be deserted! Everything she had ever known . . . her father, her mother, her sisters, her home . . . all gone . . .

"You see?" the Prince's voice sounded behind her. "I had to come. You were in an enchanted sleep . . . one that only the kiss of your true love could break." Lina snapped out of her reverie.

"What?!?" she yelled. "‘True love?' You?!? I don't even know you! I've never seen you before in my life!" The Prince looked even more flabbergasted than before. This was surely not the sort of scene he had envisioned.

"But it's true! I love you, Princess . . ."

"Oh, think sensibly, man!" Lina shouted, exasperated. "You don't even know my name! I was alive a hundred years ago. Surely you weren't around a hundred years ago! This is the first time you've seen me, and the first thing I did when I woke up was smack you! Can you honestly say that you're in love with me?"

The Prince looked at her, quite taken aback. He tried to think of something else intelligent and eloquent to say . . . something like, "How could one not fall in love instantly at the sight of you?" or "I was so overcome with emotion that I kissed you, though you were asleep. Is that not love?" or "Hey, we're all alone in this tower . . . want to have some fun?" But all that came out was a barely distinct, but honest, "No."

The Princess sighed. For a moment, she almost felt sorry for him. Then she remembered that he had kissed her without provocation and went back to being angry at him. "You had to kiss me?"

"Well . . ." the Prince said, uncertainly. "The curse did say that the kiss of your true love would break the spell."

"Well, let me ask you this," Lina said. "If the sleep is only supposed to last for one hundred years anyway, why does it matter whether or not I'm kissed at the end of it? What makes you think I wouldn't have awakened on my own if you hadn't been here? Why do men always think that women can't do anything on their own?"

The Prince struggled to look for an intelligent and eloquent answer. He couldn't find one.

"Well, while you're struggling for a solution to that conundrum . . ." Lina said. And she left the Prince behind in the tower.

All at once, her grief caught up with her. Lina was all alone, probably the only one left in the kingdom, except for the Prince. There were other kingdoms of course, but after a hundred years, who would remember her? And if her kingdom had been deserted for this long, it was probably all but forgotten.

Lina went down the stone steps of the tower. Broken cobwebs layered the walls of the spiral staircase, and Lina took care not to let too many brush up against her. If there was one thing she was deathly afraid of, it was spiders. Sometimes her sister, Kathleen, liked to put them in her bed. Oh, how she hated being the youngest! Though now, she would have welcomed the prank, if it meant having Kate and her other sisters back.

She arrived in a corridor and stood, appalled. Dilapidated hardly seemed the appropriate word. The passageway, formerly so warmly lit, was now dark and dismal. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust, tickling Lina's nose unpleasantly, and the cobwebs were worse than ever. Lina shuddered and moved forward, desperately seeking out paths where the cobwebs were thinnest. It all seemed like a bad dream, like some scary story that Helena would have told. She passed by a place where the vines had started growing inside the window, snaking their way slowly across the wall.

Lina felt something odd happening. Her eyes were burning and watering, and she felt a choking sensation in her chest. She had only ever felt this way before when her older sisters had teased her too much. She had never, in her life, had a true and unchildish reason to cry. Although she was the youngest princess in her family, she was still that: a princess. And, shallow though it may seem, she had been pretty well pampered all her life, with no real life issues to concern her. And now . . .

Lina found herself outside of her bedroom door. It was open, and there was a minimal amount of cobwebs in the doorway. She nerved herself, hoping that she wouldn't find the eleven skeletons of her sisters in their beds, and walked in.

There were no skeletons, but it was just as bad. The cobwebs completely obscured the twelve royal beds where Lina and her sisters had slept. This had been their bedroom, playroom, whatever room, the place where Lina had many fond memories of her sisters . . . and a few not so fond ones as well.

She walked past each bed, her eyes falling to the portraits that hung above each one, showing which princess that bed belonged to. There was Kathleen, the second youngest, only a year older than Lina. The portrait showed her thick, strawberry-blonde hair, her piercing green eyes–everyone in the family had those eyes–and her dimpled smile. The painting also showed her with a clear complexion, but Lina knew that the painter had eliminated the freckles that speckled Kathleen's nose. Lina had always liked the freckles, though for some reason, they were considered unattractive. Kathleen's bed, along with everyone else's, was now covered with the same sort of spiders she had used to hide in Lina's bed. Kathleen had always seen fit to tease her unmercifully–as was proved by the spiders–though they only differed a year in age.

Jacquelyne's bed was next. Jacquelyne was Kathleen's twin sister–their names rhymed–but they were quite different from each other. Jacquelyne was usually the one who comforted Lina after Kathleen had been particularly cruel to her. Jacquelyne's portrait looked almost exactly like Kathleen's, except that where Kathleen's strawberry-blonde had had a bit more blonde than strawberry, Jacquelyne's had a bit more strawberry than blonde. And Kathleen's dimpled smile resembled more of a smug smirk . . . at least, it always had to Lina . . . whereas Jacquelyne's smile was genuine. She was easily the most kind, humble, and thoughtful of her sisters.

Next was Ilianna, the golden-haired, eighteen-year-old beauty, who was less like a princess than any of the twelve sisters. was the one who was always most aching to go anywhere other than the palace. She had tried to jump the castle gate many times, and although she had been caught, she also claimed to have escaped the notice of the guards once or twice, and had explored the surrounding kingdom. It was more than likely that none of these stories was true, but it was entirely possible, for Ilianna was also the cleverest of the sisters.

Helena was Ilianna's twin, also eighteen, and always able to talk up a good scare. It was she who had told Lina of her curse, surely embellishing several aspects of it, for she had only been four at the time. But she had made up plenty of stories too, some scary, some not, and had told most of the scary ones to Helena. She had always had a vivid imagination. Between her imagination and Ilianna's brains . . . it was almost scary to contemplate what they could have come up with. But unlike her twin, Helena was one of the least attractive of the sisters. Oh, she was attractive . . . all the princesses were attractive . . . but in much in the same way that Lina was. Where Ilianna's hair was like pure gold, Helena's hair was a dishwater mismatch of blonde, brown, and red, which she always insisted on keeping short. And though they were omitted from the portrait, freckles fairly covered her face. Plus she had a short temper, and could be downright beastly when something set her off.

Tawny-haired Ginevra, in contrast, was absolutely ravishing. Her hair, the perfect mixture of brown and blonde, was the hair girls dreamed of having, and was second in length only to Donnatella's. She was barely nineteen, yet of the twelve sisters, she had gotten the most marriage proposals . . . with the exception of Anna, of course. Even the painter had seen fit to leave the freckles on her nose in the painting, because he couldn't bear to do anything to change that perfect face.

Florinda was the most rebellious of the sisters, even more so than Ilianna. At twenty, she had defied the wishes of her parents many times, with or without their knowledge. She was the one who was most likely to marry some random man living in the woods. She was, in fact, known to have one or two affairs that her parents had never found out about. Nothing serious, of course, but there had been plenty of stories for the other sisters.

Eleanora one of the three triplets, a twenty-one year old beauty, with fiery hair and a personality to match. Of the twelve sisters, she alone had painted her own portrait, for she had a gift for art that was unmatched, even by the king's painter. She had taken the liberties the regular painter usually took–she hardly needed to–so her picture actually showed the freckles that were present on Eleanora's nose, and her hair was bright red, almost orange, not the more "tasteful" auburn the painter would have undoubtedly made it. Eleanora was also a brilliant dancer, second only to Anna . . . and even she had to work to be better than Eleanora. Eleanora had such grace and poise that it looked as though she was hardly working at all.

The second triplet, Donnatella, had long, beautiful, chestnut hair that Lina had always been deeply jealous of. At last measurement, it had been down to her knees, flowing eloquently always. Although, Lina didn't envy her the chore of washing that hair! She was easily the bravest of the twelve sisters, with the possible exception of Anna, always willing to jump into whatever fray . . . but she was deathly afraid of heights, Lina remembered, as afraid of heights as Lina was of spiders.

Clarabella, the third triplet, had dark auburn hair, almost black in the shadows, full lips, and creamy white skin. She was, in fact, the only one of the sisters who didn't have any freckles; her complexion was almost clear enough to be a mirror. Clarabella was usually overshadowed by Eleanora and Donnatella, but she had same personality they did. She preferred to sit demurely and quietly . . . until crossed. And one crossed Clarabella at their peril.

Bella, twenty-three, with thick, chocolate-brown hair, and elegant facial features that even the few freckles on her nose could not mar, was a wonderful musician. She played the lute and sang beautifully. Sometimes she sang while Eleanora danced, and anyone watching immediately fell in love with both of them. She had had her fair share of proposals too, just for her voice. She also had the enviable ability to take anything that was thrown at her with grace and poise. She was a wonderful actress, and could fake smiles and tears alike.

And finally, Anna, her portrait looking haughtily down from its lofty place in the room. The oldest at twenty-five, she naturally had power over them all, and was able to best many of them in many things. She had black hair in tight curse that framed her elegant face. She had all the qualities of the other sisters combined, and had an unquestionable authority fit for a queen.

And she was married now, to a mysterious soldier . . . but she had only been married for a few days . . .

There was a blank spot in Lina's memory. Why did she not know more about Anna's suitor. She hadn't married until twenty-five, and her marriage was surely a highly celebrated event. Why could she barely remember it?

She sighed, deeply. What did it matter now anyway? Anna and her husband, as well as the other sisters and her mother and father, were all dead now. It was possible to live past a century, but few did and even fewer cared to try. She looked back at the portraits of her beautiful sisters, and the burning and choking returned as she began to cry.

A figure appeared in the doorway. Oh, right. The prince. "Can't a princess have a moment by herself?" she asked, angrily.

"My apologies, princess. I'll just stand by the door." She sighed. This prince, whoever he was, really had come at a very bad time. If he had come now, after she had awakened and needed a way out of the kingdom that was clear of spiders, she might have welcomed him differently. Hell, if he had come while she was asleep and had simply sat and waited quietly for her to awaken, she would have welcomed him differently!

Oh, well. He was here now. Something would have to be done about him. She quickly wiped her eyes–she would not give the prince the satisfaction of seeing her cry!–and walked past the innocently smiling portraits of her sisters, and back out of the room.

"Good Prince," she said, with the eloquence that had been drilled into her as a princess. "Your intentions, I'm sure, were good, if unnecessary, and for that at least . . . I thank you. I assume you know the way out of the palace, so . . ."

"But . . . what about you?" the prince asked, stupidly.

"What about me?"

"You're going to stay here?"

"Of course!" Lina said, impatiently. "It's my home, my kingdom! Do you see any other heirs around here?"

"I don't see any other subjects around here either, Majesty . . ." Something about the way he called her "Majesty" put her off, slightly.

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" she asked.

"Well . . . I had assumed that you'd . . . come back to my kingdom and be my bride." She stared at him for a moment, not sure if she had heard him right.

"What?!?" she expostulated, dropping all pretense of eloquence. "Did you fall off your horse and hit your head?"

"Well, given the circumstances . . . perhaps it was a silly notion . . ."

"You think?"

"Regardless, princess, you cannot remain here," the prince insisted. "This kingdom has been all but forgotten for the past century. There is nothing to rule. You must come to another kingdom and . . . make a new life for yourself."

"What sort of life is there for a century old princess?" Lina asked, dryly.

"You are . . . easily recognizable as a princess. I'm sure that some . . . royal family . . ." But even as he said it, he realized how lame it sounded. No royal family–at least none that Lina knew of–would want another competitor for the throne.

"Look, there's nothing for me," Lina said, firmly. "I'm the lost princess. I overslept, and my kingdom left without me. There's nothing you can do. Just go, and . . ."

"Leave you alone in this place?" the prince asked. "I couldn't do that!"

"You can. And you will."

To her great annoyance, the prince began to laugh. "Begging your pardon, Majesty," oh, that word again!, "but this seems hardly a fit place to leave a kitchen wench, let alone a princess. It would hardly be gallant to leave you behind."

"It would hardly be princessly to leave my kingdom, now would it?"

"There's nothing here for you but the spiders, princess. Now stop this foolishness, and come with me!" She wanted to retort and stand her ground, but the comment about the spiders finally did Lina in. Stubborn though she was, she was not about to stay here while there were spiders about.

The prince took about a staff, which was already covered in sticky cobwebs, and began to beat a path down the corridor.

"What is your name?" Lina asked.

"I am Prince Lance," the prince said, in a somewhat haughty tone that did nothing to improve Lina's image of him.

"Oh . . . ‘Prince Lance,'" she said, deepening her voice and trying to imitate the haughtiness. Her sister Bella would have been able to pull it off perfectly. "‘I'm Prince Lance! I'm handsome and charming and all those things a proper prince ought to be! Now, I have to help a sleeping maiden wake up, and after that I'm going to slay a few dragons, for I am Prince Lance!'" Her mimicry was a far cry from anything Bella could have pulled off, but it nevertheless got the desired effect. The prince was, once again, flustered.

"I did slay a dragon, for your information!" he said, stoutly. "Coming in here! There was dragon guarding the gate. Almost got fried alive, but I slew it!"

"Uh-huh," Lina said, seeming bored. "Sure you did. And flying monkeys are attacking the castle."

Prince Lance sighed, sounding frustrated. Good. "Of all the princesses to get stuck with . . ."

"Hey, you're the one who decided to kiss me! And you're no great treat yourself. The castle entrance is that way, doof," she added, pointing to the turn he had missed. Looking sheepish, Prince Lance changed course. "Didn't you mark the way in?" Lina muttered. Prince Lance cleared his throat sheepishly, but said nothing else has he continued to clear away the cobwebs.

After much bickering, they finally made it to the castle gate. The rest of the castle was just as dismal as the upstairs corridor had been, with more dust and cobwebs than Lina had ever thought possible. But now they had a new problem. Beyond the moat, the entire castle was surrounded by briers so thick, a mouse couldn't fit between them.

"Hold this," Prince Lance said, thrusting the staff at her. Lina squealed and almost dropped it; the whole thing was covered in a sticky mess of cobwebs. She checked carefully to make sure there were no spiders crawling in the webs.

"They're not going to hurt you," Prince Lance said condescendingly as he pulled out his sword. Lina glared at him.

Now Prince Lance approached the briers, and paused. "Well, what are you waiting for? Hack your way through," Lina said.

"I . . . I'm trying to avoid getting cut . . . those thorns are sharp . . ."

"How on earth did you get in?"

"The briers must've grown over . . ."

"I can see that!" Lina said, impatiently. "I meant, if you hacked your way in, why can't you hack your way back out? I mean, if you can slay a dragon . . ."

Prince Lance paused. "Maybe there's a path around . . ."

"Oh, give me that!" Lina said, reaching for the sword. The prince gave an arrogant and superior smirk that irritated Lina to no end.

"This sword weighs more than you do. I'm not going to . . ." But his speech was cut short as Lina grabbed the sword from his hand and began hacking away at the brier patch. As soon as she had made a decent sized dent in the thorns, the prince found his voice again. "Just what kind of princess are you?"

"Apparently, the kind who can wield a sword better than Prince Lance," she said, putting manly emphasis on the name. "What are you, afraid of your own blood?"

"It just . . . makes me a bit squeamish is all . . ."

Lina sighed, shaking her head. "Of all the princes to stop by, I had to get the one with a thing about blood," she muttered. "Tell me again how you managed to get in?"

"Well . . . things were more desperate then . . ." Prince Lance said, lamely.

"Yes, heaven forbid that you not get to the sleeping princess before she wakes up, because then you might not be able to kiss her . . ." But before Prince Lance could come with an appropriate retort, Lina's sword broke through the wall. Perplexed, Lina stepped through the hole. Behind it was a perfectly clear pathway. She turned slowly back to the prince.

"And how, pray tell, did you miss this?" she asked, sweetly. Prince Lance sputtered for a few minutes under her glare. "You know . . . I thought you were an idiot before. Something tells me I underestimated you." She thrust the sword at him, hilt first–though it was considerable temptation to thrust it at him the other way–and started down the pathway.

After a few steps, the path veered off and forked. It was a labyrinth! This thing couldn't just have grown up on its own. Someone must have planted it sometime in the last century; someone who wanted to effectively hinder any progress to or from the castle. Since Lina had been the only resident of the castle for the past century, she could only assume that the barrier was meant for her. Of course, the curse was enough to tell Lina that someone had it in for her . . . but this thorny labyrinth seemed to doubly confirm it. And if everything Lina had heard about diabolical enemies was true, they usually operated in threes, which meant that there was surely some other thing that was supposed to stop her . . .

Out of no where came a roar. It was so powerful it knocked Lina off her feet. Prince Lance made a feeble attempt to catch her, but only succeeded in inadvertently grabbing her in a place where a princess ought not to be grabbed.

"Get your hands off me!" she screeched, getting back on her feet. She looked around for the source of the noise. "What the hell was that?"

If the prince was shocked to hear a princess use such language, he did not show it. "That sounded to me . . . like the roar of a dragon."

"A dragon?" Lina said, fear taking hold of her again. "You mean there really is a dragon here?"

"I told you there was," Prince Lance said, sounding a trifle exasperated.
"And I thought you also told me that you slew the dragon, did you not?" Lina said, trying to keep her voice below the high soprano range.

"I . . . I thought I had . . . I guess it must have . . . woken up . . ."

"Well then, you didn't slay the dragon, did you?!?" Lina screamed. "All you did was knock it out!"

"Well, dragons are hard to kill entirely!" Prince Lance insisted. "They're pretty tough . . . they have incredible endurance, and can take a lot of punishment without succumbing to . . ."

"WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP AND SLAY THE DAMN THING?!? WHAT ARE YOU, A PRINCE OR A NATURE PROFESSOR?!?" The prince looked as though he would have liked to make a retort to this outburst, but at that point, the dragon manifested.

It was a textbook dragon, to be sure. Green scales, sharp teeth and claws, long sinuous neck, tail like a whip, and smoke issuing from its mouth and nose. It would have been a truly formidable creature . . . had it been a bit bigger. The dragon was by no means tiny, roughly the size of two horses. But the dragons that Lina had heard about had always been described as towering over small buildings. This dragon didn't seem at all like the towering type.

They just stood for a moment, staring each other down. The dragon could be still be formidable, despite its size. Lina did not have to be told why smoke was issuing from its mouth and nose. Lina stepped aside, giving Prince Lance a clear shot. Annoying he might be . . . but he said he had overtaken the dragon once. Lina could handle a brier patch, but large, fire-breathing reptiles were a different matter.

The dragon wasted no time. He came charging toward the prince. Prince Lance stood his ground, sword in hand. As the dragon came in range, Lance swung his sword at his snout . . . and missed. Spectacularly. Caught off balance, he fell to the ground, sword clattering next to him, as the dragon ran by. Lina wondered if she should give herself over to the dragon and be done with it.

"What is the matter with you?" she said, sounding more exasperated than angry now. The prince stood up quickly, sword back in hand.

"I'm just . . . out of practice is all . . ." he muttered sheepishly.

"You just slew the damn thing ten minutes ago! Or at least you thought you did!" Suddenly there was great crash. Lina looked, and saw what had happened. The dragon, caught off guard by Prince Lance's clumsiness, had been unable to stop and had crashed into a wall of briers.

"Quickly," Prince Lance said, moving in the other direction. "Before he comes free."

"Let me guess . . . you planned that whole thing, right?" Lina asked sarcastically. The dragon was moving its back claws, trying to extract itself from the wall.

"Just move! Quickly!"

"I don't think we're in any danger. That thing's as clumsy as you." She started to follow the prince, but stopped, and turned back. There was a strange noise coming from the place where the dragon struggled. It was making no progress; the smoke in his vicinity was increasing. And that noise . . . it was a noise Lina had made before, usually when Kathleen was torturing her with spiders, or when Helena was telling a particularly scary story. Was it whimpering?

"Lina!" the prince called. "Where are you going?" For Lina had started back toward the dragon. Ignoring the prince, she approached the beast, trying to avoid the flailing claws. She realized that she the wall was not complete; she could step around it and get the head.

She did so. The dragon did indeed seem to be whimpering, and with good reason. It's side now had several gashes from the sharp thorns, and the dragon was surely making them worse with its thrashing. Its eyes were pain-filled, and seemed to be tearing.

"Hey there," she said, softly. The dragon saw her. His thrashing grew wilder. "Stop! Stop! Take it easy . . . you're only making it worse." She approached the dragon's head slowly. "I'm hear to help you. Take it easy . . ." Lina wasn't sure whether the dragon even understood her. Maybe it was just the sound of her voice, but the dragon did seem to be calming down.

"I know, I know it hurts . . ." she said. "I got cut by thorns like these once." She looked at the brier wall. His body seemed pretty firmly lodged there. He could probably extricate himself in time . . . but not without doing considerable damage.

"Can't you breathe fire on the wall?" she asked. "Burn it down and get free of it? Fire shouldn't hurt you." The dragon's whimpering returned. "Oh . . . can't you breathe fire?" For answer, the dragon let out a small cloud of smoke. Lina understood . . . the dragon could handle smoke, but not fire. "You haven't learned how yet?" The dragon seemed to agree. It could understand her. "Why . . . you're just a baby, aren't you?" The dragon nodded, sadly. "Oh, you poor thing . . . you must have gotten lost in this brier patch, and that mean Prince Lance came after you . . ." The dragon nodded. "Well, I agree, he's an idiot . . . but he didn't mean anything by it. I know what it's like to be the baby . . . I've been a baby all my life, at least compared to my other sisters. So they always pick on me and try to scare me." The dragon looked at her with new appreciation. It surely helped to find someone who understood. Lina realized that she was playing the role that her sister Jacqui so often played: the comforter. Though she never thought she'd be comforting a dragon!

"Don't worry; I'll get you out of here," Lina assured the dragon. "Don't move, I'll be right back." She went back around the wall and called to the prince. "Hey you! The mighty warrior! Get over here, I need your sword!" The dragon started thrashing again. "Not for you!" she insisted. "To cut the briers, to free you." The dragon still seemed nervous, but stopped thrashing.

Prince Lance came over. "Want me to kill it?" The dragon heard.

"Shut up!" Lina said, slapping him again. "You're scaring it! Give me the sword."

"What are you doing?" the prince exclaimed as Lina took the sword from him.

"The dragon didn't mean anything! It's just a baby. It's been lost in this patch for who knows how long! It's okay, it's okay," she added, soothing the dragon. "Just hold still. I won't cut you." She began hacking away at the briers.

"You're helping it?" the prince expostulated. "It attacked me!"

"Only because you attacked it first!" Lina retorted. "It can't even breathe fire, poor thing . . ."

"Poor thing? Not five minutes ago, you were berating me for not killing it!"

"Stop saying that!" Lina shouted as the dragon stirred nervously. "It's okay. Try backing out now . . . but slowly! Don't hurt yourself."

Slowly, the dragon backed its way through the hole in the briers. It whimpered a few times as a few thorns left some last cuts, but kept moving back until it was free.

"There now!" Lina exclaimed happily. "Now, hold on. There might still be some thorns under your scales. Let me take a look."

"This isn't happening . . ." Prince Lance muttered as Lina circled the dragon, pulling out the thorns that remained in the dragon's skin.

"You look okay," Lina said. "The cuts are healing really fast. Soon, you'll be as good as new." On impulse, she hugged the dragon around the neck, like one would a horse. The dragon looked surprised, but not displeased. Prince Lance, on the other hand, looked surprised, displeased, and completely nonplused.

Lina stepped back and looked into the dragon's eyes. "You should have a name. Is it all right if I name you?" The dragon nodded assent. "Okay . . . what's a good name for a dragon?"

"How about ‘Menace?'" Lance muttered.

"Just ignore the mean, stupid man," Lina said. "Oh . . . you like that name?" For the dragon was nodding its head toward Lance. "You like the name Menace? Okay, Menace it is!" Menace gave out a happy snort of smoke. "Good idea, Prince. Very well thought out." Prince Lance looked as though he had swallowed something unpleasant.

"Now, we need to find a way out of this maze," Lina said. "Can you stretch your neck and look over the walls?" Menace stretched his head up as far as it would go, but his eyes came just short of the top of the wall. "No, I guess not. But maybe I could, if I stood on your head. Would that be all right?" Menace brought his head down and laid it on the ground so Lina could climb up. "I'll try not to squash your ears," she said. Menace gave a snort; he would appreciate that.

Lina set the prince's sword down and hauled herself up onto Menace's head. She stood carefully, maintaining her balance, as Menace slowly stretched his neck back to the top of the wall. Suddenly, Lina could see the entire maze, laid out before her. "Okay, I see it . . . we have to go out this passage here . . . then go left, then right, then left, then left again, and then we're out! Okay, you can let me down." Menace lowered his head slightly, then tilted it back, so that Lina slid down his neck onto his back. "You want me to ride?" Menace nodded. Lina beamed. "Okay! Let's go!"

"Excuse me," Prince Lance said. "But may I have my sword back please?"

Lina turned to him. "Oh, are you still here?" The prince glared at her. "Your sword's right there, highness," she said, pointing. Lance smiled dryly, and moved toward it . . . but Menace got there first, setting his claws on it and snorting smoke at the prince.

"I guess Menace doesn't want you to have it," Lina said, amused.

"But suppose there's some threat in the maze?" Lance asked.

"What threat could there be that a dragon couldn't take care of?" Lina asked, patting Menace's neck. Menace snorted, appreciatively.

"But . . . but . . ." the prince sputtered. Lina sighed.

"But, I suppose you should have your sword back. Tell you what, Menace. If the mean, stupid man agrees to keep his sword put away, will you let him have it back?" Menace considered, then stepped back from the sword. Prince Lance stepped in and grabbed it before Menace could change his mind. "Isn't there something you want to say?" Lina inquired, sweetly.

"Thanks," Prince Lance muttered, sheathing his sword, his face turning red.

"No problem," Lina said. "We wouldn't want to deprive you of the opportunity to fall on your ass again." Menace snorted in a pattern that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

In due course, the three of them emerged from the brier labyrinth. Lina looked back at the castle. "Well . . . there's certainly no future for me here," she said, sadly. "I guess I'll have to find some other place to live." She slid down from Menace's back. "Thanks, Menace. You were a big help . . . I guess you'd better get back to your family." Menace looked at her and shook his head. "You don't? But why?" But that seemed to be a more complex answer than Menace could give, so he just nuzzled Lina's hair, bathing her with warm and surprisingly sweet smelling vapor. "You want to stay with me?" The dragon agreed. "Well, of course you can!" Lina exclaimed, hugging the dragon's neck again. "Things'll be much more fun with a dragon around. Without you, I'd be stuck alone with Prince Lance." The prince glowered, but said nothing.

"Well, where to?" Lina asked of no one in particular.

"I'll lead you to my kingdom," Prince Lance said, regaining some of his composure. "There, we can . . ."

"Why your kingdom?" Lina asked.

The prince looked at her. "Well, last time I checked, yours was in pretty poor repair, so . . ."

"Yes, but why are you so eager to get me back to your kingdom?" He looked at her blankly. "I know why. It's so you can take me off and marry me. But why do you even want to marry, given that you don't even know me? Because you need to produce an heir for when you're king, and I'm pretty enough to be entertaining . . ."

"Do I even need to be here for this conversation?" Prince Lance asked, rhetorically.

"I'm not playing your little game, highness. I'll be just fine on my own . . . with Menace," she added, looking up at the dragon.

Before the prince could stutter another word, Lina was back on Menace's back. "Farewell, Prince. Thank you for all your incompetence. It was much appreciated." And with that, Menace and Lina took off, leaving a frustrated Prince Lance behind.

***

"What's next?"