Chapter 6: A Pocketful of Beans

WE GOT BACK to our hotel room and spread all the documents out on the coffee table. I couldn’t believe all we’d looked at was the TripTik. But, to be fair, I only told Misty to see where it said we should go. She grabbed the first thing with an answer. We never bothered to look further.

What we found was an array of miscellaneous information and travel documents. For example, there were a pair of “Bearer Passports” that said the bearer was permitted to cross from one land to another. I wondered what Homeland Security had to say about that. There was a charm that was the equivalent of a ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card. If you were imprisoned, it could be used to get you out.

The most interesting to me was the ‘Weapons and Armor Manual.’ It showed a picture of my entire graduation regalia, describing the use of each item. My mortarboard, for example, was the equivalent to Xena’s Chakram. Well, I’d already discovered that. It could be used thrown or handheld. There was nothing about it returning to me, though. I guess that’s what Roadkill was for.

The manual included a lot more stuff. Some that I had and some I’d acquired. The basketball in the back of the car could be used as a kind of Molotov cocktail, it burst into flames when throwing it. The hard ball I used to play catch with Roadkill was a kind of blunt projectile. The manual specified that a slingshot was an effective weapon against giants, but only if the giant was hit in the forehead. And my gown itself seemed to have some kind of protective powers, though I found the manual rather vague about that.

“Look at this,” Misty said. She held out another booklet titled, ‘The Book of Wizardry.’ Hmm. I guess it made sense to have a separate book for the Warrior and the Wizard. Supposedly, I was both.

“Oh, crap!” I said as I opened it. “It’s in French!” I need to tell you that I took three years of high school French as was required for graduation. French was the reason I didn’t have a 4.0 grade-point average. I wouldn’t have had a 3.5 if it weren’t for all the AP classes I took. “I’ll never understand the spells if I have to speak them in French!”

“Madam Auclair would be so disappointed in you,” Misty said, citing our high school French teacher.

“Madam Auclair was always disappointed in me,” I sighed. “I guess now, we just get some sleep until Regis Ferdinand Rex summons us or something.” I hung my robe and regalia, with new respect for them. Then I went into the bathroom for a shower and washed out my underwear. It was surprisingly fresh yet. I wondered if there were a bunch of other spells on things that I didn’t know about. Like the gas tank that was always full. When I came out of the bathroom, Misty threw a nightshirt at me and went to take her own shower. I was asleep before she finished.

I woke to persistent knocking on the motel room door. I got up and automatically pulled my gown on as if it were a bathrobe, then went to see who was there. It was a little man. That’s all I could describe him as. About three feet tall, it took a minute before his eyes had traveled all the way up to mine. He stepped back across the hall so he didn’t have to crane his neck so far.

“The Honorable Warrior Wizard and her companions are invited to join Regis Ferdinand Rex for breakfast. Breakfast will be served in two hours. May I carry your response?”

“Um ... We’ll be happy to meet for breakfast, but you need to tell me where as well as when.”

“Our sovereign prefers to breakfast at nine o’clock in the sun room of the fortress. I’ll return to report your reply.” With that he ran away from the door and jumped into a golf cart to zip away from the motel. I couldn’t tell exactly where he was going. I returned to bed, but didn’t bother to lie back down. I pulled out my backpack and rummaged around to see if there was anything appropriate to wear to breakfast with the Sovereign—whatever he was called.

“You should wear your official regalia,” Misty said. “Apparently, cap and gown is the uniform of the Warrior Wizard.”

“Why do I suddenly want to wear shorts and a tank top?” I asked. As I shoved acceptance of the idea that I was in an alternate dimension away from me, I realized I was becoming more and more petulant and whiny. I heaved a deep breath and pulled off the robe so I could put on my favorite sports bra and court shorts. I debated wearing shorts and a tank top under the gown, but I was really getting used to wearing it like a bathrobe and thought it rather funny that appearing before the Sovereign in my bathrobe and underwear was the height of politeness.

“You look very nice,” Misty said. I sat at the desk in the room and she rubbed some kind of hair oil on my head and combed my short hair into place. She turned me toward her and applied a bit of foundation to my face and eyeliner. At least the lipstick didn’t make my mouth look bigger than it already was. I looked in the mirror and decided I didn’t look any worse than I had at graduation.

Misty got ready quickly by putting on lacy underwear and a cute sundress. Maybe it was a little short, but I was sure no Sovereign would complain about seeing Misty’s legs. She had a pretty pair of high heel sandals. I, of course, wore wool socks and my army boots.

“Now all we need to do is find this place for breakfast.” We took the travel documents all with us and seeing nothing around that looked like a fortress, got in the car. Both Roadkill and Shasta sat up in back, an unusual position for them.

“The TripTik says right and right again,” Misty said, looking at our paper GPS. I drove out of the motel parking lot and turned right. Half a block farther on, I turned right again. “There should be a sign up here for Main Street. Follow it to the right again.” We followed the sign and about half a mile later we saw it. “That’s it,” Misty sighed.

“Please tell me that isn’t just the courthouse,” I sighed. We’d made it to the town square and there was a huge castle-like structure in the middle of it. Stationed around the corners were the obligatory displays of cannons and cannonballs. Only these had real-life soldiers manning them, ready to fend off ... something. What did the courthouse have to defend itself against?

We were waved into a driveway and up to a portico. I was shown a place to park and the four of us got out of the car. Doormen showed us the way and opened doors for us. I guess that’s what doormen are supposed to do. There was no elevator in this old building. We were pointed to a vast sweeping staircase that split in the middle and led left and right. We followed to the right and then around a balcony to another staircase that was walled off from the main rotunda. At this level, a butler in formalwear met us and ushered us into the dining room where we were shown to the head of the table where a man stood to greet us.

He was absolutely ordinary in every way. He wore a dark suit and tie with a white shirt—all of which reminded me of the thugs the night before. He was a few inches shorter than me, but that was still an average height for men. He reached for my hand and I shook with him.

“Warrior Wizard and...” he turned to take Misty’s hand “ ... consort. Welcome to the Sovereign Land of Victoriana.”

“Your Sovereignty,” we responded, nodding our heads forward. Misty had found that in a book of etiquette in our travel documents.

“And these, your familiars,” the Sovereign said turning to Roadkill and Shasta. They both bowed. Apparently, their book of manners was more complete than mine. “How delightful. Please have a seat. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know. And please, just call me Regis. No need to keep using titles while we break bread together.”

“Likewise, Regis. I’m Jackie and this is Misty. Attending us are Roadkill and Shasta,” I said as we were seated to the right of the man. Two women entered the room and took the seats to his left.

“Jackie and Misty, may I present my wife Regina Elizabeth Rex and daughter Princess Bridget Rex,” Regis said. Somehow or other their first names all sounded like titles. They greeted us politely. I got the feeling the daughter was in her early to mid teens, though the mother didn’t look more than twenty or twenty-five. Well, maybe a trophy wife. “We are so happy you could get here,” Regis said as servants brought plates of food for us and set them on the table. I noticed they set plates that looked almost as appealing in front of the animals. And the food smelled delightful. It was just a good down home breakfast with bacon, sausage, eggs, potatoes, and hot black coffee. Everyone dug in.

“I understand there was a slight miscommunication and we were expected two days ago. I’m afraid our early instructions were lacking significant bits,” I said.

“That happens when we’re dealing with the other side. Had a minstrel come through once five years after she was expected. But it all balances out. We were expecting one person and received four,” Regis said. “I am sorry to say, however, that the delay may have put the task out of reach.”

“Your note said only that the jewel of your crown had been stolen. Must be pretty big. Diamond? Ruby? Emerald?” I asked. It would help to know what we were looking for.

“Oh! No! Language can be a great barrier to communication sometimes. It is our son who is missing,” Regis said.

“And you’ve been waiting for me to get here to go after him?”

“Don’t think so poorly of us,” Regina said. “Regis sent an entire police company after them. We just knew a real Warrior Wizard would be better able to handle the situation. I’m afraid our police are not terribly efficient.”

“Worse yet, I believe we may have been tricked into sending them. It has left the Land short of police to enforce the laws and certain criminal elements are taking advantage of the situation to gain a foothold in the city. Hopefully, you have not and never will meet any of the unsavory characters in that element,” Regis said.

“We may have run across some of them last night when we got to town. We stopped at the big hotel on the west side of town for the night. We had to defend ourselves before we moved to the Knights’ Inn,” I confessed.

“Oh, dear. That’s what Clark was going on about when he came last night. That means the Caesars have been warned that you are here. It could make it tricky getting you out of town to pursue the kidnappers. We’ll set up a diversion when the time comes,” Regis said.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand the subtleties of what is going on,” I said. “Perhaps if you could explain what has happened and what you want us to do about it, we could help you.”

“Of course.” Regis pushed his plate away and a servant swept in to collect all our dishes. Apparently, when the Sovereignty is finished, everyone is finished. “Eleven months ago, our son, Baron Federico Rex was in the park on the east side of the fortress. His governess was with him and the usual array of soldiers were patrolling the grounds. Suddenly, a fog arose, sending everyone into confusion. People were stumbling around, running into each other, and generally being worthless, amidst which confusion, the governess continually called out for her charge, all without answer. When the fog cleared, Baron was gone. Half a dozen soldiers were found slumped over the barrels of the cannons, and the governess was swinging on the swing set, singing ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,’ which is all we’ve managed to get out of her ever since.”

“Excuse me, Regis. This happened eleven months ago?” Misty asked. “And you were concerned about Jackie being two days late?”

“Why the sudden rush to recover your son?” I asked, following up on Misty’s questions. “He’s been gone nearly a year.”

“We were certain we could recover him at first. Then there were negotiations that took forever. We finally realized they were simply trying to delay things until it was too late.”

“Too late for what?” I asked.