A Questionable Quest

Chapter 22... in which my knight in muddy armour finally shows

I don't know how much time passed between when Felix closed that door, and when he opened it again. It could have been hours. It could have been merely minutes. All I knew was that it wasn't seconds -- that much was obvious.

After I'd tried (unsuccessfully) to fall asleep, I resorted to... less peaceful ways to pass the time.

I screamed. I banged on the door until the skin on my fists were raw. I shouted at the top of my lungs. I kicked a few loose pebbles, and tried to set the door on fire.

I did manage to set my own tunic on fire. That resulted in some (very loud) cursing.

Then I thought, just to round it off, I might as well yell some more. Just for the sake of it.

If my etiquette tutor were here, she would have swooned in horror. I could clearly hear her voice, nassily and nastily and vexatious, wrapping me over the knuckles and saying, "princesses do not scream, Your Highness, nor do they curse nor shout. In special circumstances, they may call daintily for help, but never as much to be overbearing. It is unseemly." Then she would spin lightly away to scribble something on her desk.

I still remember fuming for the rest of the lesson. I didn't take in anything else she said all day, but I made a secret vow that day to never "call daintily for help" if I were to be kidnapped. Or killed. Or anything else.

Then again, I'd never dreamed of an adventure where I might be kidnapped by an evil wizard.

Well, I paused mid-shout. Actually, there was that one time...

Furthermore, I'd also vowed to never call for help, if I could do something about it. And, as much as I wanted to shout for Van to come and save me, I knew my pride wouldn't allow it.

So I screamed.

And shouted.

And yelled.

And screamed some more.

And, all the while, I hoped beyond hope that Felix might find an ounce of decency in himself. My voice was scratchy, after shouting for who-knew-how-long, and all I really wanted to do was to cast that wayfinding spell. Or maybe I could just keep shouting, and annoy the old wizard into letting me go.

Or maybe I could blast down that door.

I eyed it (or, at least, where I thought it was in the dark). Then took a big gulp of breath. And blew.

Nothing. Not a spark.

I knew it wasn't me -- I'd ensured as much by blowing on a corner of my tunic after the first failed attempt.

Which meant the door was spelled against any and all at magic.

"GAAARRRRGGGGH!" I aimed a well-placed kick at the door. It made no sound, no difference, and succeeded in nothing but adding to my large collection of bruises.

"Bleeding bloody blargsar!" I hopped to the nearest wall -- actually, more like bumped into the nearest wall. With no light for my eyes to adjust to, I'd mostly been stumbling around, arms outstretched, for a long time.

I rubbed the newest new bruise already forming on my head and made a mental note to walk carefully from here on out. Otherwise, I might not be conscious by the time Avvenor came down to do... whatever it was he needed me for.

It wasn't the first time some form of that particular question had popped into my mind tonight. In fact, it wasn't even one of the first twenty times. More like thirty-seven... Still, no matter how many times I asked, I still had no answer.