He’d kidnapped Winston first because he was easy prey and, as a mouse, Greg needed all the help he could get. After secretly drugging Winston, Greg and a legion of mouse friends carried him off while he slept to a secluded wing of the castle and gave him the antidote. But when Winston woke up, he ran away before the mouse had a chance to speak with him and enlist his help. While Winston was free to renounce his life of crime, he didn’t understand what it meant, nor had he known that his kidnapping had actually been a rescue attempt.
Since Greg and his friends lacked opposable thumbs, Greg realized he needed more help if his next attempt would be more successful.
First, Greg convinced me to free the dragon, then used it to catch General Thimblepop, who’d been helping him launch his campaign ever since. Next, he sent us to the field with oregano and made sure his dragon burned it, which raised the army. He used his army at the tournament to capture the king’s hand, gathering another public figure to help lead the charge.
Now, the mouse was planning to use my fake hanging as a way to gather the rest of the kingdom’s figureheads in one place, so he could successfully surround them with his army and free their minds. His primary target was the king, who could help by commanding his kingdom into compliance. Hopefully, the peasant potion would force the people to obey the king more than it urged them to run from a cure.
After finishing her story, Kelly put me in a headlock and forced the antidote down my throat, and then we were on our way.
After Bryce’s declaration and after Kelly and I pulled off our switcheroo, I stood there on top of the gallows, my heart soaring in my chest. I was a raindrop, not a snowflake, and Bryce knew it. He made me feel like the only rain to drop in a thousand years, and he was dying of thirst.
I didn’t have to give up my do-nothing lifestyle for Bryce. Rules had exceptions, but that didn’t mean the rules ceased to exist. If my goal to have no goals were theIbeforeErule, Bryce was the wordweird, a maddening anomaly that somehow fit right in.
He’d never pressure me down a path toward a future the world could accept. He’d help me build a hut at the crossroads of my life where I could go on existing as I had been, smelling the roses, looking at the stars, touching grass. A tiny space where we could justbe.
I wasn’t a hero or a peasant or a villain. I was me, and that was enough for me, and enough for him.
Thanks to Bryce’s strange grand speech, I’d forgotten my actual reason for being up on the gallows until Kelly removed her skull, slipped off the end of the rope, then jammed her skull back on her spine as she landed nimbly on the ground. She looked up at me and waved her hand.
I remembered in a hurry that we were supposed to be ambushing the king to give him the antidote. Unfortunately, the king was now surrounded by a squad of guards and being led away by Amy toward the castle.
Holding the jars of antidote inside my coat close to my body to keep them safe, I jumped off the gallows. I landed hard, knees popping, more accustomed to sitting on a couch than performing feats of heroism. “Let’s go!”
Which was when things really went to crap. The skeletons burst through the gate, pouring inside like a swarm of shoppers raiding a Best Buy on Black Friday. Soldiers charged for them,coming together from the perimeters of the courtyard to form a blockade, keeping the skeletons at bay.
Bryce stepped into our path, holding a discarded, rusted skeleton sword. The potion was compelling him to stop me.
I didn’t have time for this. The king was getting away. I drew my sword—a handy bonus of taking the guard’s uniform. “Look, Bryce. You know how we found that potion book? Amy’s controlling everyone. Greg is the Evil One, but he’s not that evil!”
Bryce took a step forward. “If he isn’t evil, why didn’t he tell us his plans from the beginning?”
He had a point. I didn’t know, but I didn’t have time to ponder it. I pressed forward. “Move.”
“I can’t let you.” He said it hard, like a command, but he was also still under the influence of the potion. Even if he wanted to help Team Mouse, the potion would force him to try to talk me out of it. It would force him to fight against the antidote, againstme.
Bryce lunged. I barely lifted my sword in time to block. Around us, the sounds of battle rang. Soldiers and skeletons fought in the corners of my eyes. Slowly, the skeletons were taking the upper hand, disarming and subduing the soldiers.
“Look around you,” I grunted as I pushed away from Bryce and circled him. Maybe if I could convince the hero potion that Greg was being heroic, Bryce would be able to let me go. “The skeletons aren’t hurting anyone.”
“You’re wrong,” Bryce’s mouth said, and he charged. Our swords clashed together again and again. Bryce spoke between jabs. “The mouse’s dragon captured me and handed me over to be imprisoned. Why would it do that if they’re on our side?” Obviously, the potion inside him was doing everything it could to convince me Greg was evil, but I refused to listen to him.
My arm trembled with fatigue. “Greg needed one of us captured so everyone would gather to watch our fake hanging. The dragon didn’t know I’d already been captured when it took you.”
“Lies!” Bryce spat.
Okay. Enough was enough. I tossed my sword aside and dove for his legs. My arms locked around his knees, and he fell back. We landed in the dirt and rolled, Bryce dropping his sword in the process.
Using the momentum, I hooked my legs around his hips and spun over on top of him. Before he got his bearings, I withdrew one of the vials from inside my guard uniform and popped the cork with my teeth. His body immediately resisted, thrashing under me, the potion compelling him to reject anything that would make him less than perfect.
I dumped the entire bottle over Bryce’s face. The green potion splattered across his skin. He sputtered and sat up, nearly pushing me off him. As he wiped his eyes, I waited with breathless anticipation, hoping enough got past his lips.
Bryce’s hands shot toward me. I tried to leap out of his lap, but not in time. When his fingers curled around the back of my neck, and I looked into his eyes, my heart stuttered.
“Bryce?” I whispered.
His gaze was intense. “I’m so sorry I told the blacksmith you were amazing.”
I smiled as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled our lips together. He let out a noise of relief in the back of his throat, and I clung to him as though I’d never let him go. Because I wouldn’t. His tongue teased my lips, my teeth grazed his mouth, and I’d never been happier to be the type of assholes who would make out while their soldiers were busy fighting to save the world.
