Princesses Are Never Lost Read online

  In desperation, she tried an old trick of her grandfather's. She closed her eyes, placed her left pointer finger on her nose, and stretched her right hand straight out. Mumbling the magic words as she did, she should have come to a stop with her hand pointing due north after a single rotation, but it just wouldn't click for her. After spinning around in circles for a good five minutes, she was incredibly dizzy, but no closer to divining which way was north.

  "Gotta be magic," she groaned as she lay on the ground. Her eyes refused to stay open until the world had settled back into place, and anyway she had such a headache coming on... "Either that, or there's no north here, which can't be right."

  "Well this is a fine mess." Selvi snorted. "Any more bright ideas, pointy-ears?"

  "Me? You're the one who insisted it was just a name!" Gwen shot back. "And would you look at that, we're lost in the Lost Woods!"

  "Um, Gwen..." Cassie said nervously.

  "And I thought all you pointy-ears were supposed to never get lost in the woods!" the half-orc retorted.

  "Er, Selvi..." the moon princess tried again.

  "Unlike orcish raiders who can't find their own snouts with both hands and a map!"

  "What, like that worthless scribble you've been making us follow so far?"

  "Must be the orcish penmanship that's making it so stupidly hard to read!"

  "Will you two just be QUIET for one moment!!" All heads turned to stare at Cassie. The moon princess was red in the face, both from vocal exertion and from embarrassment. "Er, um, yeah," she added in a much quieter voice. "Were those shrubs there a moment ago?"

  "What?" Even Flora was surprised by that, and she should have been the first to notice. While the argument had gone on, the forest around them had shifted yet again, with a large mass of holly suddenly springing up nearby. Her druidic senses, normally alert to the various forces of nature, were strangely muted in this place. Perhaps it was the headache, but even so she should have seen it sooner. Several trees had shifted positions, as if rotating around where they were, and the holly...

  The holly was rustling and shaking without a breeze to blow it.

  "That's what happens when everyone fails a perception spot check," Uncle was explaining. "Even without the penalty from headaches and arguments, only Cassandrella rolled high enough to notice something was up."

  He placed a figure on the table. It looked like random bits of green sponge, cut into pieces and then reassembled with bits of toothpick. The result was roughly animal-shaped, with a head and legs, but otherwise it was hard to tell what it was supposed to be.

  "So," Uncle announced. "For failing your spot checks so spectacularly, you must deal with... a shrubbery!"

  There was a confused silence around the table. The way he'd said it, with a raised, nasal voice and funny accent, made it sound like he was trying for a joke. Whatever it was, it went straight over their heads.

  Uncle sighed. "We should do a movie night for you ladies sometime soon. You all need to see some of the classics. Anyway, the bushes form themselves into a very large topiary animal and attack. Roll for initiative."

  Five large dice rolled, and he quickly tallied up the numbers. "Okay, Flora won initiative, but she's also still too dizzy to do anything. She'll be first in line starting next round. Cassie and Bianca are tied for next up. Either of you care who goes first?"

  Claire hopped up on her seat and waved her hand. "I'll roshambo you for it! Rock, paper, scissors! One, two... three!" The short girl poked two fingers into the air.

  Katelyn just stared at her. Well, maybe. It was hard to tell from behind those bangs.

  "Er, well..." For once, Claire was at a loss. "Um, I'm gonna hold back, in case we need healing magic soon, and, um, I guess Katelyn goes before me?"

  Princess Bianca was not having a good day. She hadn't slept well, her head was throbbing, and her stomach was taking issue with whatever that morning's fruit had been. Things had only gotten worse when they entered the forest, though she couldn't say if it was the allergies or the company that was spurring on the pain behind her forehead.

  All she knew was that she was feeling cranky, and woe betide anything that got in her way. Even if that thing was a giant animated hedge that was five times her size.

  The topiary beast rustled and creaked as it moved. There was nothing really animalistic about the sound; it was just the noise of wind in the trees. The thing looked kind of like a fuzzy green bear, if you squinted just right. It didn't have eyes, but it had branches sticking out like teeth and claws.

  But so what? She had her magic rod. As the shrubby bear came crashing towards her, Bianca raised Gran'Mama's gift to her and let the magic fly.

  "You're sure you want to do that?" Uncle asked.

  "Yeah, that thing's only done weird stuff so far," Claire pointed out.

  Katelyn didn't say a word, screwing up her mouth into an impatient pout and tapping the item card again.

  Uncle shrugged, his shoulders rising sharply, followed by his arms and hands waving fruitlessly in the air. "Well then!" he cried. "Let's see what happens!" There was the sound of dice rattling behind the game-master's screen, and then silence. Too much silence.

  "Um... Uncle?" Helen asked after a moment. "What's happening now?"

  He shook his head, staring at the number he'd just rolled, and at the list of effects pinned to the divider screen. "Okay, you're not going to like this..."

  Bianca's nerve was about to break. The monster was almost upon her, and her stupid magic stick was refusing to work! She shook it as hard as she could, but to no avail. The leafy green beast reared up on its hind trunks, towering above her. High, high above her... It looked like it should tower above all the trees of the forest now, but that couldn't be right, could it?

  It was either that, or she was suddenly much smaller...

  "Crescent Cradle Catch!" The moon princess came out of nowhere, scooping Bianca up like a rag doll and dancing away before the bushy beast could attack.

  "What do you think you're doing? I had him right where I..." She trailed off as a few things became more evident to her. The leggy cleric had always been a bit taller, but now Bianca fit easily if not comfortably in her arms, with the witch's legs dangling high above the grass. Forget comparisons, she actually was the size of a rag doll just then. "No!!" she cried, squirming and pushing to make the cleric drop her. "Lemme go!"

  She dropped to the ground with a light thud, still kicking and flailing. Not far off, she could see Gwen and Selvi as giants confronting a bushy behemoth. They... they... she was growling through her teeth. That was her fight! How was she ever going to prove herself to Gran'Mama if she couldn't beat up a dumb plant?

  "We need to be careful!" Gwenevrael shouted as she and the half-orc circled around the monster. "These things are tougher than they look!" Animate topiary beasts such as this were not uncommon in the elven lands, though this was the first feral one she'd ever encountered. Much like any beast of burden, it had a vicious side that was unleashed when it lost both its fear and its respect for its handlers.

  "Yeah, yeah, pointy ears. Teach your grampa how to suck eggs while you're at it." Somehow, she doubted that Selvi had ever been properly domesticated. "You take left, I take right!" the barbarian princess yelled.

  Gwenevrael did as she was told, because it was the sensible thing to do. She'd been about to suggest flanking it, herself. This way, she didn't need to argue with the khan's daughter, at least.

  So she ran clockwise around the beast, slashing at it with her short sword. It made about as much difference as hacking at a real tree. A pair of pruning shears would have worked just as well, if not better. But then there was a loud rustling, a frantic fanfare of foliage that could have been likened to a growl or a roar. The body of branches and leaves tilted to the side as if pulled, but then righted itself.

  "Yo, pointy-ears!" The call didn't come from the direction she was expecting. Looking up, Gwenevrael could see the half-orc's wicked grin from over the top
of the bush beast. "Time to trim this thing down to size!"

  With one hand gripping tightly on a bundle of branches, the khan's daughter plunged her scimitar into the beast's back. The fierce rustling announced that, whatever damage that had actually done, it was only enough to make the thing really mad.

  Flora was not as on the ball as she would have liked. There was something... wrong about these woods, and it had taken her far too long to sense it. She couldn't say what 'it' was, because her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton instead of the usual grey jelly. Even now, she was still uneasy on her feet.

  Communicating with the bush beast wasn't an option -- even if she could speak with plants, the others had already gotten it all riled up. Her tanglegrass spell had stubbornly refused to work. The plants here simply could not block the bushy thing from moving.

  That didn't leave her many choices at the moment. She could've attempted to summon help, in the form of some local beast, but she didn't. In the heat of the moment, all she could think to do was brandish her lute, shout the magic words that transformed it into a battle club, and smack that naughty, naughty plant-beast upside the head.

  And all the while, she sang:

  Whack! whack! whack! went the hammer!

  Smack! smack! smack! went the club...

  It wasn't high poetry, or even a decent effort on her part, but it helped her time her hits well enough.

  Cassandrella was holding back from the action, but not once did she turn her nervous eyes away from it. She needed to be ready, she knew. Even from here, the cuts and scratches on the other princesses were obvious. The beast wasn't fast enough to get a really good hit in, but it was still dealing damage. But while she was focused intently on the fight, she was oblivious to what was going on under her nose -- at least, not until the smell of strange, chemical vapors wafted past it.

  "What--" Her question died in her throat as Bianca took off on her broom. The little witch clung on tight to the handle as it sped straight towards the beast. At the last moment, it zoomed upwards, and she heard a tiny voice shriek.

  "Toad in the hole!"

  There was a -bang-, a tiny percussive sound that was overshadowed by the roaring rustle of the bush beast. It reared up on its hind trunks, trying in vain to avoid the burst of fire that had lit up beneath it. Then it ran off, stampeding through the forest undergrowth without leaving the least trace of its passage.

  Cassandrella ran over to Flora. The druid princess had been knocked over in the commotion, and was complaining loudly of a headache, but otherwise seemed fine. As for Gwen and Selvi --

  They weren't there. The moon princess's eyes searched frantically, scanning the path for any sign. The two young ladies' packs were still on the ground, but that was all.

  "Well now," the little witch was saying as she brought her broom back down to earth. "Toldja I could take care of it by myself." There was enough self-satisfaction in that squeaky voice to blot out the full moon. "Er, where'd the others get off to?"

  "Okay..." Uncle said as he looked over the playing field. "That didn't end as expected. Gwen and Selvi were actually on top of the topiary when it bolted, so they're off on a wild ride for a bit. Looks like we're going to have to split the narrative a bit here. Which side goes first, fighters or magic-users?"

  Helen and Shelby shared a look. "Magic-users," his niece said. "We're gonna take some time to come up with a good argument."

  "Take all the time you need," he said, shuffling through his notes. There were enough encounters detailed within them for at least two or three game sessions, but they'd all been meant for a full party, not small groups. What he needed was something that the squishier princesses could reasonably survive, or at least run away from. "Okay! Think I got it straight here. Our intrepid trio of magical princesses try to follow the bush beast, but since the plants are so thick they can't get through the same way. So they strike out in the same general direction and hope for the best."

  As a forest, this place made no sense, Flora had decided. Underbrush sprung up in the oddest of places, and often in the shadow of trees that should have killed off the smaller plants as a matter of course. Pines crowded together with beeches, oaks with cedar, and high grass sprung up where there should only be moss.

  The path was no less a mystery, for she had no idea what had beaten the grass down to form it. Mr. Chitters had scouted in various directions and reported no sign of other animals. Brave squirrel that he was, he'd offered to go farther afield to make sure, but she'd asked him not to. Flora was afraid that if he went too far out, he'd never find his way back.

  Bianca didn't have that problem with her familiar. Jinkies seemed perfectly content with riding atop all the packs now strapped to the witch's broom. The little black cat had taken one sniff at his mistress, now hardly larger than he was, and mewed with something very much like a chuckle. The witchy princess was hardly so sanguine.

  "This bites frog's bottom," Bianca whined. Her legs dangled from the end of broom.

  "I did warn you about using that thing," Cassie pointed out.

  "Yeah, yeah." The witch waved away the words. "If that old bat hadn't given me such a dud artifact, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

  "Sure..." Even the moon princess's sweet mood had curdled a bit. Flora thought this might be the first time she'd ever heard sarcasm from the cleric.

  Cassie squeaked as she tripped over something in the grass, falling flat on her face. While she picked herself up, massaging her wrists and face, there was a giggling to be heard from the broom.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Flora barely caught a glimpse of Bianca's white lock of enchanted hair as it retracted. The witch was whistling and twiddling her thumbs, looking as innocent as a kid standing beside a broken cookie jar while pointing at her baby brother.

  Flora's mother hadn't believed her act then, and now it was her turn to not believe it from Bianca. She should say something, she knew that, but the last thing she wanted was to make the situation worse. They'd already been split up once; she couldn't be the reason for a second time. Like it or not, the three of them had to stick together.

  So she kept quiet for now, but she never took her eyes off of the little witch.

  Ten minutes later, Mr. Chitters returned from his latest scouting trip full of squeaks and chirps. It was all Flora could do to keep up with him, and even so she needed him to repeat it. "There's some sort of village up ahead," she reported to the others. "At least, that's what it sounds like. A bunch of large, blocky things with doors." On her shoulder, Mr. Chitters clucked in agreement.

  "Could be a cemetery," said Bianca. "Yanno, with all those big stone tombs full of ghosts and ghouls and skeletons..." The now-tiny girl's voice was as squeaky as the squirrels, even when she went "Whoooooooo..."

  "S-s-stop it!" Cassie shuddered.

  "Aww... is someone afraid of a few widdle zombies?"

  "Where!?" The cleric nearly fell over backwards trying to check every way at once, prompting more high-pitched giggles from the witch.

  "It's the middle of the day," Flora pointed out wearily. "No undead things will be out right now. We should at least give it a look."

  Careful as only a druid in the forest could be, Flora crept down the path. She slipped from tree to tree, keeping hidden just in case. There was no telling what might be living in a wood like this.

  Then, the village came into sight. She had to blink back surprise.

  "What was that?" Cynthia asked. The pony-tailed girl obviously wasn't trusting her own ears.

  "You heard me," said Uncle. "You see a circle of small houses, each about four to five feet tall, with mushroom-like roofs and walls of mud and daub. A few have chimneys, but no smoke."

  "Anything else?" asked Claire.

  "Well, it's very quiet," he added. "In the middle of the clearing is a spot for a fire, though it doesn't look like it's been used in a while. Flora could use a knowledge check to see if she notices anything else."

  "Awright," said C
ynthia, rolling her big green die. The transparent goldenrod polyhedron wobbled a short distance, bounced off of a pencil, and came to rest with a 20 on top.

  Uncle whistled in appreciation. "Okay, gimme a moment to think. What else could she notice..."

  —–

  Flora grabbed Cassie and Bianca by the sleeves before they could think to approach the little village. Nestled in a clearing among the great oak trees, it was a picturesque hamlet in miniature with six identical houses set around a central fire pit.

  "Huh?" Cassie had her best puzzled expression on. "What gives?"

  This place was... wrong, though she'd have a hard time explaining that to the others. It was wrong in the same way that everything else had been wrong, like it'd been pieced together from someone's idea of a forest and a village without checking to see what might work. For instance...

  "Those roofs... the mushrooms? Back home, we call those speckled reapers. Just touching one could kill you in a few hours. Usually they're little things, about the size of my pinky." She shivered. "They say they only grow on a murdered man's hidden grave, fed by his ghost's desire for revenge. To get that big..."

  "Great, so they're bad mushrooms." Bianca rolled her eyes and made a quacky duck mouth with her right hand. "Wah, wah, wah. We still don't know who lives in them."

  "Nothing good," Fiona declared.

  The tiny witch shrugged. "Okay then," she said, pulling a bomb out of her pack. "Let's ring the doorbell and ask."

  The round explosive was hurtling through the air before the others could stop her. It fizzed and smoked and left an impressive trail behind it before landing in the fire pit. A moment later, and a small -boom- echoed through the forest.

  Six little doors popped open, and the villagers appeared. There was a baker's dozen of them, short and bare-chested with large ears and noses. Each had a cap like a mushroom's, and Flora had a hunch that they weren't the sort that you could take off. Most of the caps were a speckled white, but one was a red as dark as blood. They all had pale skin, painted blue in messy strokes, and the red-capped one sported a beard of fibrous tendrils.