And there I was, back in the throne room, surrounded by fancy nobles from 1,000 years in the past. Except this time, instead of being gutted like a fish, I was being applauded, granted, from a safe distance; everyone still thought I was a witch, after all.
“Your witchiness,” said the king reverently as he bowed at my feet. “I apologize for misjudging you; you have my eternal gratitude for saving my only daughter.”
“Uh, It’s Piper,” I replied, awkwardly, not really sure how to address a king.
“Very well, Piper,” said the king as he stood, “and you may refer to me as Cassian.”
I nodded; that was the most royal-sounding name I’d heard all day. I looked around the room at all the people; most everyone was smiling and applauding, no doubt relieved they wouldn’t be burnt to a crisp by the assassin’s so-called dragon.
Thomas was there, too; he stood near the front of the crowd and gave me another big thumbs-up. I smiled back, thankful for his help and relieved that everyone seemed really happy and no longer wanted to kill me, everyone, of course, except for Poofy Pants, who was scowling at me like he had a big stick stuck up his–”
“For the record, I could’ve saved myself if you’d given me like five more minutes.” Princess Melanie slouched on her father’s throne, arms crossed defiantly and looking just as foul as Poofy Pants. She appeared slightly older than me, maybe 19, and was dressed in the most colorful and garish yellow ballroom gown I’d ever seen, complete with stitchings of bunnies and little woodland creatures on the front. This, contrasted with her jet-black hair and sour expression, made her look like a goth in denial. I briefly wondered when goths would be invented.
“Well, thanks for the help, I guess,” muttered Poofy Pants sourly as he came to stand next to the king. “But if we’re all done here, I’m sure I speak for everyone else when I say it’s time for you to go, and we never want to see your stupid witch face again.”
I frowned, not just because of Poofy Pants’ rude remark but because it was nighttime in the Middle Ages. Was I really expected to go into the untamed countryside and just start walking? With my luck, there were probably ravenous wolves in the area, eagerly searching for a late-night snack before bed. I hoped all the processed food I’d eaten in the present would make me unappetizing to any nocturnal predators.
“Thank you, Inquisitor Melvin,” replied Cassian, placing a hand on the spindly man’s shoulder, “but I had something a little different in mind for our new friend.” The king turned back in my direction, seeming to stare right through me with his bright green eyes. “Praedones is a small kingdom, Piper, located between several larger nations, and despite our diminutive size, we have many enemies.” The king shot a loving glance towards his grumpy-looking daughter. “Those assassins you saw tonight, the ones that nearly took my sweet Melanie, they were not the first to attack us, and I’m certain they won’t be the last.”
I nodded sagely, unsure where he was going but wanting to look the part of official and magical.
“If this kingdom is going to survive,” continued Cassian, looking to the crowd of people, “then we need to be willing to make allies, even in the most unlikely of places.” Cassian took my hand in one of his, “If you are willing, Piper, I would be honored if you became the official court magician of Praedones.
The room exploded with excited chatter. The loudest two voices belonging to Thomas, who shouted, “YES!!”
And Poofy Pants, who screeched, NO!!”
I blinked, surprised at the sudden turn of events. Cassian had been about to kill me a few hours ago, and now he was attempting to hire me? I wondered if working here would have benefits. Could I start investing in a 401K? Could I invent the concept of a 401K?
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Your majesty,” begged Poofy Pants, clutching the hem of the king’s robe, “surely you jest. Are you seriously asking for assistance from a witch?” He spat that last word out, spittle flying directly into my face; yuck.
“She saved my daughter,” replied the king as he calmly removed Poofy Pants’ hands from around his garment. “And if Piper hadn’t been able to defeat that other dragon, who knows how many of my subjects would have died.”
“That may be true,” admitted Poofy Pants, a tight smile on his face, “but still, she’s a witch, they’re evil”
“Perhaps we were wrong about witches,” replied Cassian, turning back towards me. “Piper, if you are willing to serve this kingdom, you will be granted safety within our walls and greatly rewarded for your efforts.”
“Thanks,” I said, smelling an opportunity to not sleep in the woods and get mauled by wolves. “All I need is a place to stay and supplies to continue my arcane research.” Of course, I didn’t have any arcane research to do, but if nothing else, this castle seemed like a safe place to bum around while I figured out my laptop situation.
The king nodded, “It shall be done. I’ll have Inquisitor Melvin tend to you personally.”
Poofy Pants and I sputtered unhappily, neither thrilled at the idea of spending more time together.
“Actually, m’lord,” interjected Thomas, stepping forward and bowing, “I’d be more than happy to assist Piper.”
“Yes, please,” I said frantically, “anyone besides Poofy Pants–I mean Inquisitor Melvin!”
“Very well,” said the king with a nod. “Thomas, please show Piper to her quarters. She can use one of the Princess’ spare chambers.”
“Don’t nick any of my stuff,” grumbled Princess Melanie, pulling a sharp-looking dagger out from the folds of her dress and using it to clean her fingernails, “I know where I left everything.” One of the knights standing guard beside Melanie noticed the dagger; he snatched it away and waggled a disappointed finger at the Princess, as if they’d danced this dance together many times before. Melanie crossed her arms again and stuck out her tongue at the knight.
XXX
“That was awesome!” exclaimed Thomas, practically jumping out of his armor as he led me to my room. “I can’t believe you summoned a real dragon, and now you get to stay here at the castle!” Thomas was grinning from ear to ear, “There’s so much I can learn from you!”
I nodded, remembering the last few frantic hours as I’d worked to slap together a homemade movie projector. Surprisingly easy when you had the tools to do it; you just needed a box, a phone, a light source, some tape, and a mirror, all of which I’d thankfully had once Thomas let me borrow his embiggening glass.
“Now, Thomas, this is very important,” I had said, handing him the projector, my smartphone already inside, “On my signal, you press this button on my phone, and it’ll load a special-effects app. Tap it again to alternate between scenes.”
Thomas cradled the projector like a newborn child, “special-effects app?” He asked, his tongue having trouble forming the unfamiliar words.
“Yeah, you can do stuff like that on smartphones,” I said dismissively, “also, take this Bluetooth speaker and try to hide it near the front door of the assassins’ hideout; I really wanna give’em the full audio, visual experience.
“Audiovisual?” asked Thomas, now looking even more confused. “I’ve never heard of that kind of magic.”
Despite telling him otherwise, Thomas still seemed convinced I had been casting magic, not quite grasping the concept of a smartphone or wireless speakers. At least he’d followed instructions well; he seemed to have a theatrical sense of timing, changing scenes from the fire to the lightning storm and finally to the dragon when it seemed most appropriate.
“By the way,” I said, turning to Thomas. “Can I have my phone back?”
“Oh, your magic rectangle?” he asked, removing it from the projector and handing it to me almost reverently. “Can you teach me how to use it?” he said hopefully.
I gave him a long look, remembering I still had witch makeup on my face. “Only the great and powerful Steve Jobs can unlock the power of this magic,” I said cryptically, chuckling as I imagined a balding wizard in a turtleneck.
I broke into a tired yawn, beyond exhausted but content for the moment. My plan had worked better than perfectly, and I had a base of operations from which I could fix my laptop. I had no clue how I was gonna do that, but that was a problem for future Piper. Right now was the present, and present Piper just wanted to go to sleep.
As for the enemy kingdoms King Cassian had spoken about, that was definitely a concern, but I was pretty confident that as long as I had this projector trick, I could scare off any of these backwater medieval hillbillies that might try and start something. Well, as long as it was dark enough for the projector to work and as long as all my technology continued to function correctly.
A notification popped up on my phone: low battery, 20% charge remaining. My eyes twitched, and I shouted a couple of very unladylike words in response.