Page 49 of The Discount Damsel

“Upsy-daisy now,” she said, guiding the knight up to his feet. “We’re going to turn around and take a few steps, go through a trapdoor, and then we’ll be in the stairwell. Do hold on to the guide rope. The architect never saw fit to install an actual railing to prevent falling into the open air.”

And with that, the princess led her achy old hedge knight away, leaving Dirk hovering and Bradley just standing there, dumbfounded.

What on earth had he just played accomplice to? How had his life, his studies, his routine, been suddenly put on hold for this young woman’s absurdities? And why was he now, instead of kicking the trapdoor shut behind them and bolting it so he could get some crucial curse-lifting research done, uninterrupted, trailing after them to see what the princess would do next?

There could be only one explanation for this.

He’d finally cracked. He’d finally lost his last marble. He’d finally swan-dived off the cliff of mental stability for the blissful seas of insanity.

Or, perhaps more simply and much more likely, morbid curiosity was to blame.

Approximately halfway down the tower, the princess and her hedge knight stopped upon the landing of a door with a ribbon affixed to its handle. She depressed the latch, gave the heavy door a shove with her shoulder, and guided the knight inside.

Bradley followed, immediately squinting against the harshness of the light.

When the dancing white motes dissipated from his vision, the sorcerer apprentice discovered a large barren room. Unfiltered sunlight turned the manilla stonework to butter. Arched windows had permitted the sand from many desert storms inside to scour the place clean. Bradley barely remembered this room from his first days at the tower, probably because it was unremarkable. Though not as bare as he’d originally thought.

Upon one such windowsill sat a decorative hourglass, heavy enough with ornate metalwork that only the strongest of breezes or a puckish air sprite would pose it any threat. It spilled red sand and cast speckled light like fireflies against the manila stones. Against the wall between its window and another was a swivel blackboard with a few fingers of white chalk resting on its ledge. Written upon the blackboard in elegant cursive was:

How to Become a Pirate in 90 Days: Training Topics

Swashbuckling 101 – Fencing

Swashbuckling 201 – Miscellaneous Weaponry

Sailing

Navigation

Knots

Anatomy and Terminology of a Ship

Swimming 101 – For Beginners

Swimming 201 – Advanced Techniques

Weather Interpretation

Apparently when the princess had left “to stretch her legs” last night, she’d found more than a letter opener and a change of clothes.

“Here we are,” she singsonged, and removed the sack from the hedge knight’s head.

The old man did a double take at the sorcerer apprentice and the slinky blue creature hovering above Bradley’s head. “Who are you?” He shot a confused look in the princess’s direction. “Pardon me, I was under the impression that princesses were alone in their towers when not being guarded by their dragon captors.”

“You know what, Sir Roger? I was under that impression myself not too long ago, but I must say it is far more exciting having roommates. Never a dull moment around here, that’s for sure.”

There used to be, Bradley grumped to himself.

Millie linked arms with the hedge knight and gestured first to Bradley, then to Dirk, “This is Mr. Donmarin, sorcerer apprentice and resident grouch, and this is Master Dirk. Dirk the Dangerous, as you know him.”

“That is Dirk the Dangerous?” Sir Roger exclaimed. He quickly bobbed a bow towards the little luck dragon. “No offense, Dragon. I was just told you were five hundred pounds and, well, red. All over. And winged.”

Every muscle and tendon in Bradley’s body tightened with the desire to throttle the princess. After her strangulation, he’d flagellate himself for being so careless as to let his best friend’s identity be exposed. Though, the hedge knight had made no mention of Dirk being a luck dragon.

“As a Designated Sorcerer Companion, Master Dirk has many special abilities,” Millie said smoothly.

“Apparently.” There was an appreciative note in the old man’s voice. “I’m not sure if I’m impressed or insulted that you were the creature who severed the rope.”