"Got my broom, my cauldron, and my magic rod," announced Bianca. "I'm good to go!"

  "What does the rod do?" asked Cassandrella.

  "Darned if I know, but I'm going to figure it out eventually."

  "How 'bout you, Moonie?" asked Selvi.

  "My travel robes, my moon-silver chain vest, and my moon scepter. For Love and Justice!" The girl twirled the scepter in the air.

  "... Right. And you, Flora?"

  The druid's pack was almost as pragmatic as hers, except for the lute and the staff planted in the ground next to it. That last one was the real oddity. Selvi could about swear that the thing was growing branches.

  "My Staff of Plenty," said Flora. "Once it's set in the earth, it cannot be moved by anything or anyone except another druid. If given time, it will form branches and give us delicious fruit for breakfast."

  "Handy," commented Gwenevrael. "And between myself and Selvi, we've got enough rope, canvas, and other materials to make camping a snap."

  "I got a big picnic basket from the kitchen!" Cassandrella announced. "Mistress Fresnelding felt sorry for us getting stuck here."

  "Good. Let's get goin' then," said the barbarian. "Times a-wastin'."

  According to the druid's tree-rodent, the best spot to slip over the wall was along the southeast edge of the school grounds. Frankly, she wasn't so sure. There were some decent handholds, including a large dent in the stones about twenty feet up, but it wouldn't be an easy climb for at least two of them — and that wasn't even counting the need to get the packs over.

  "Well, girls. This is going to take a plan. Any ideas?"

  After a fair amount of discussion, a fair bit more of arguing, and some fairly crude sketches in the dirt, they had one.

  "What." Uncle's face in this moment was a perfect picture. His eyebrows had levitated all the way up to the hairline, and his jaw had dropped just as far in the opposite direction. Under his right eye, the muscles along the cheekbone had bunched up and were twitching slightly. All of this had come from a single look at the plan, laid out carefully on a piece of scratch paper in colored pencil. The game had adjourned for a few minutes while he'd gone to the toilet and refilled his root beer, but then he'd returned to find... this. "Are you serious?"

  "It's a good plan!" Helen insisted.

  "Definitely gonna work," said Cynthia.

  "And didn't you tell us we should pool our resources?" added Shelby.

  "Yes, but..." But he hadn't imagine anything like the Rube Goldberg scenario before him now. Okay, maybe it wasn't quite so bad as that, but it was close. "So... Bianca's going to fly up the wall, but not over it..."

  "That's right!"

  "And she's going to use her mud ball spell to fill a space in the rocks —" One that he'd intended to be used for a grapnel... "— and then stick Flora's Staff of Plenty in sideways?"

  Katelyn nodded.

  "You said that nothing could move it once it was planted," Shelby pointed out. "And it's magic, so 'nothing' could include gravity, right?"

  "Before that," he continued, rubbing his head, "You'll wrap a section of canvas around the staff, rolled up at the edges, and once it's stuck in the wall you'll hang a rope over it and use it as a pulley to lift all your gear up the wall?"

  "Once Gwen and Flora have used it to climb up," said Helen.

  "Cassie and Bianca are using the broom to get to the top, but not go over," said Claire. "So we don't set off the gargoyles. Probably."

  "Then Selvi uses her awesome barbarian strength to hoist up the supplies, so everyone can unload them on top. She'll follow on up, and then we'll lower a rope down the other side to climb down," Shelby said. "Piece of cake."

  "If you say so..." Honestly, he could think of a lot of ways this could go wrong, not to mention several things he could do as the game master to actively prevent them from succeeding. Things he probably should do, like point out that the mud ball spell shouldn't produce enough mud to make this work, just to keep things within the letter of the rules. But... it was the most creative thing he'd seen from them so far, and it wasn't even the craziest thing he'd ever seen in a game. Plus, he could smell the pizzas cooking in Max's oven.

  His stomach made the decision for him. "Okay, I'll allow it. Time to roll 'em, ladies. Katelyn, Bianca's skill bonus for flying is going to be canceled out by having to balance Cassie on there as well, so you will need to secure her somehow. Cynthia, Flora doesn't have any points in climbing, so use her strength bonus when you roll. There's no rush on most of this, so if at first you don't succeed, I'll let you take ten. That is," he explained, "we'll imagine it takes longer than normal, but you do finally reach the top. Okay, let's roll."

  The view from the wall was actually rather nice, Gwenevrael thought. The forest extended a long ways into the distance, where it met the hazy purple outline of the eastern mountains. Her eyes picked out more landmarks, matching them to the map in her hands. There was the lake, and the river... She relaxed. Everything seemed accurate so far.

  Behind her, she could hear Selvi grunting as she pulled Flora up the last few feet. The druid had gone back down to retrieve her staff, but then needed help getting back up while holding on to the cumbersome thing.

  "So, we ready to go?" asked Bianca. The witch had somehow managed to ferry Cassandrella without dropping her, though the cleric had not liked the idea of being strapped in by magically animated hair. The moon princess's face was green like cheese as Bianca's white lock released her, and she fell off the broom and onto the stone of the walls.

  "Just a moment..." Cassandrella burped. "Not feeling so good..."

  The ranger secured the rope onto a stone fixture, after first making sure it wasn't a gargoyle or otherwise some potential defense of the school, and tossed it off the other side. The rope didn't quite reach the bottom, but it came within a few feet. Nearby, Flora's squirrel chittered at her.

  "Okay; you were right, sir squirrel. I am sorry to have doubted you," she said in a low voice. The last thing she needed was for Selvi to see her talking with the little red rodent.

  Getting back down the wall on the other side wasn't nearly as difficult, though once again they had to secure Cassandrella properly before lowering her down in the same manner as the packs. The moon princess was not happy by the time they got her to the ground, but at least they were all outside the walls now.

  She nodded to Selvi, and the half-orc nodded back. The two of them hefted their packs and helped the magic-users with theirs. Then, as a group, they began their adventure.

  "And it's time for a pizza break!" Uncle announced. "Katelyn, that was some very good role-playing with Bianca, and Claire? You added some excellent details in. We're going to have to capitalize on those in the future."

  "My princess didn't get to do much," said Cynthia with a pout.

  "We'll just have to fix that after we have our pizza, eh?" Uncle winked. "Don't worry; you're headed into a forest. Druids always have things to do in the forest. And," he added before Shelby could form the words. "There will be fights. It's time for some action."

  "Good." The black-haired girl nodded at that.

  "Enjoying it so far?"

  "Yeah, Uncle!" "Uh-huh!" "... yes." "Super-fantastic!" "It's okay."

  "Thanks for the ringing endorsement, ladies."

  Max had the pies set on the neighboring table, and the ravenous horde of princess players migrated in that direction with nary a complaint. Uncle tidied the game table, swapping out a generic forest map for the one of the castle, and made some notes from the safety of his game-master's screen. The sturdy cardboard divider was what hid most of the game's important information from the players, and in his head Uncle imagined a scene that must have played out behind closed doors, where no princesses were allowed.

  "And there they go." Mistress Penskill tapped the edge of her magic mirror, making the image within both larger and clearer. The Academy's main instructor in the arts arcane was short and round, with bright aqua hair and a serious, sour face that did not jive with her gnomish heritage at all. She shook her head as she watched the five young students disappear into the forest. "Is this really such good idea, to let them off the leash like this?"

  "It will be pleasingly quiet here, ja?" said Mistress Heyerwif. "Those girls would find some trouble und make us all go crazy."

  "They will need to learn how to work together, to trust one another," said Lady Amberyll. The headmistress leaned back in her chair and massaged her temples. "That is not something we can teach at this institution. If we were to try, we would most likely achieve the opposite result. No, no," she said. "Let it be their own choices which instruct them. We shall enjoy the show, and intervene only if absolutely necessary."

  Mistress Penskill nodded, and the image in the mirror faded away. "Still can't believe that little pipsqueak had the temerity to steal copies from our files."

  "I did warn you." Lady Amberyll's eyes glittered with amusement. "That is why we only put what we wanted her to see in that file, was it not?"

  "Sure, sure. Hope you know what game you're playing here. That one's grandmother is no joke."

  "Neither am I, Penelope. Neither am I."

  Pizza Time!

  "Okay!" Uncle called. "Are we ready to keep going?"

  A low rumble of general assent floated to his ears from the far side of the table, fueled by pizza grease and sugary drinks. Everyone had certainly had their fill of Max's signature pepperoni-plus pizza. He would have to step things up before they went into a food coma.

  "So, to recap: Five young princesses, played by you ladies, have just snuck out of school because you all didn't want to be stuck there for the entire summer. As far as the game is concerned, that all happened yesterday now. You managed to make decent time that first day, then Gwen and Selvi set up camp for the night. Next day, you get up fairly early and keep going. So now you're in the middle of a big wild forest. What are you going to do?"

  He expected Cynthia to chime in first, or Helen. Their princesses certainly had the most skills related to traveling through the woods. Shelby was also a possibility, since the girl had been taking charge a lot so far. But no, once again his expectations were dashed upon the reality that these kids were nothing like him, and certainly were not playing the game the same way.

  "We stop at noon to have a picnic!" Claire shouted before anyone else could say anything.

  "A... picnic."

  "Yeah! We got a picnic basket from the school kitchen, and it was so full of stuff that we couldn't eat it all yesterday, so today we should have a picnic!"

  "Wouldn't we eat it all for breakfast?" said Shelby.

  "That's a very good po—"

  "But Flora's got that magic staff!" Cynthia interrupted him. "We'd have lots of fresh fruit for breakfast, so we could save the leftovers for lunch."

  Everyone was nodding at this, much to Uncle's annoyance. He looked over the notes behind his divider screen, where the details for a fight with some bandits lay. As encounters went, it was pretty straightforward, especially for level three characters, but he'd wanted to ease the girls into this. Now, though? If they wanted picnics, he'd give them...

  Hmm... Uncle keyed in a quick internet search, coming up with all the details he needed before the girls could even finish debating how to do the picnic. "Alright, ladies," he announced. "It's picnic time, with everything that goes along with it."

  It was a beautiful day in the forest. The sun shone down on them through the trees, and the birds were singing like a choir of angels. For a temple-raised girl like Princess Cassandrella, it was like a fairy tale turned real. She hopped and skipped merrily down the trail, stopping every few minutes to ask Gwenevrael or Flora for the name of some flower that had caught her eye.

  The ranger and the druid put up with her exuberance, though Selvi rolled her eyes every time. The barbarian didn't have much use for flowers.

  Bianca was the least happy of the lot, because it turned out that she did have to walk after all. The twisty forest trails were hard to navigate by broom, and she was always either dragging her feet in the dirt or hitting her head on branches. The broom followed her around instead, carrying her pack and Jinkies, who was happily perched on the saddle. How she envied the little fuzzbutt.

  "Can we stop and rest for a bit?" she whined. "My feet are killing me!"

  "Yeah!" chimed in Cassie. "And it's almost time for lunch, too!"

  "We took a break an hour ago," growled Selvi. "Can't you —" She was stopped by Gwenevrael's hand on her shoulder.

  "A group travels only as fast as its slowest member," the ranger pointed out. "And it is a good time of day to have a meal."

  "Picnic time!" crowed the moon princess.

  "Yeah, yeah." Selvi brushed the hand away. "Coddle the softies, why dontcha. Their poor widdle toes might fall off their feet, otherwise."

  "Really?" Cassandrella sat on the nearest rock, pulled off a boot, and wiggled her toes. "Nope, all present and accounted for!"

  "It looks like there might be a clearing ahead," Flora announced, ignoring the discussion entirely. "What's left in the basket?"

  There was quite a lot left in the big wicker basket they'd received from the Academy cook. Either Mistress Fresnelding had been extra generous, or she'd overestimated how much the five girls could eat. Flora's Staff of Plenty had produced handfuls of fuzzy brown fruits, all green and juicy on the inside, to break their morning fast, so the bread, cheese, and sausage inside the basket could wait till now.

  The glen was perhaps twenty feet across, and its ground was covered with soft green grass. A few rocks poked through the turf, and served as excellent shelves for heavy packs. Selvi unfurled a roll of tent canvas upon the ground, and the five of them settled down for an enjoyable lunch. There were enough sandwich fixings for everyone, with a bit of sausage left over for Jinkies.

  Flora had her lute out and was happily assaulting everyone's ears with off-key caroling when she wasn't cramming ham and cheese in her face. Jinkies yowled along a few times.

  Yes, a good time was had by all, right up to the moment where cat and squirrel sat up stock straight, with ears pricked and noses twitching.

  "Um, Helen? Why's your uncle chuckling like that?" asked Shelby.

  "I dunno. Er, Uncle? Uncle..."

  It was a huge smile, a massive grin plastered across his face. His friends had often told him never to play poker, which was fine by him. This was more his game, and it was time to pull the ace from his sleeve. "Well, ladies. You wanted a picnic, and where there's a picnic, there's also... them."

  "Them?" Cynthia gave him the screwy eye, which only made him grin harder.

  "Yup. Them."

  The princesses were looking every which way, trying to figure out where the trouble was coming from. Something was obviously setting the animals on edge, but what? Selvi and Cassandrella hopped to their feet and looked down the trail, while Gwenevrael's eyes scanned the high tree branches. Flora and Bianca were trying to calm their critters, with little success. Mr. Chitters and Jinkies were shaking from nerves.

  And when trouble came, it wasn't from the trail, nor from the trees. With a great push, something forced its way up from under the picnic canvas, sending the two remaining princesses and their pets tumbling away. The canvas jumped and shook, flapping away to reveal... them.

  Three bodies, each the size of a large dog, covered in reddish brown fuzz. Broad, rounded heads with large, glittery eyes, short antenna, and clicking mandibles. Six skinny, hard-shelled legs, the first two of which sported four-clawed hands with opposable thumbs.

  More followed from the hole they'd opened beneath the canvas.

  "Ants?!"

  "What's a picnic without them?" Uncle laughed. "And now I feel like watching old monster movies. Well, ladies? They caught you off guard. Whatcha gonna do?"

  Gwenevrael wasn't sure what to make of... them. They were ants, but on the other hand not. Regular ants weren't three and a half feet long. They also didn't immediately grab people's packs and... wait, what?

  "What!?" she shouted. "Stop! Stop them! Selvi! Cassandrella!"

  There were ten of them out of the hole now, and they'd paired off to grab the princesses' gear. Faster than anyone could react, the ant-things were hustling their loot away.

  "Hey!" Selvi recovered from surprise the fastest, jumping in to block the pair of ants with her pack. In her head, she was cussing long and hard that she'd left her sword next to her stuff. The scimitar was in the hands of them, now.

  "Shelby, language."

  The black-haired girl just blew him a raspberry.

  Selvi Khan's-daughter was a champion of êl-sakhar, a sport of the high plains played traditionally with the severed heads of one's enemies, though nowadays it was usually a weighted ball of rags instead. Either way, these ant things weren't nearly as heavy, and with a single swift kick she punted the one with her sword into the nearest tree. As she reclaimed the blade, she could see Princess Point-Ears wresting her bow and quiver from another pair of marauders. Moonie wasn't having as much luck freeing her pack, though it was fun watching her whack a bug over the head repeatedly with her holy symbol and yelling things like "Moon's Justice!"

  The witch girl shouted a bunch of words, through their meaning was lost on Selvi's ears. The magic broom understood, apparently, and it leapt from the grasp of an ant-thing. Bianca's pack tried to follow along, pulled by the straps, but a quick snip of the mandibles cut it off. The broom flew freely back to its mistress with the little cauldron dangling from it. The rest of the pack disappeared down the trail with the ants.

  "After them!" Selvi roared, baring her tusks in anger. How dare these... these bugs steal from them! She would squish their heads beneath her boots, rip their legs from their thoraxes and beat war drum rhythms on their fat, buggy butts! Her rage pushed her forward down the path, paying no attention to the whipping branches or protruding roots, or —

 

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