Page 39 of The Underachiever’s Guide to Love and Saving the World
brYCE
I was uncomfortable with many things in life. If I had to rank the top three things I was most uncomfortable with, it would probably go something like this:
That moment when you go to a show, and the guy on the stage screams into the microphone, for the third time, “I said, are y’all having a good time?”
Flash mobs.
Skeleton flash mobs.
However, at that moment, my mind was not capable of ranking fears. I was really only capable of thinking thoughts such as: Holyshitholyshitholyshit .
The undead had spooked our horses, causing them to run off, so we crashed through the forest on foot, vines slapping our faces and thorns scraping our skin.
Bioluminescent fungi grew out of tree trunks and rotting logs, like stars had fallen and settled in the forest. I tried to find comfort in the beauty, but my limbs shook.
They felt like they hadn’t stopped shaking since we came into this world.
Trying not to catch feelings for Courtney while simultaneously chasing after Courtney as she repeatedly endangered herself meant I existed in a continuous state of acute panic.
Courtney happened to remember the sun was in her eyes this morning on the way to the field, so we figured out which direction we needed to run to head back to the castle. Thankfully, the skeletons were too preoccupied with rising from the dead to be concerned with chasing us.
We ran for what felt like hours before the fear buzzing in my ears subsided enough for me to think. They were frantic, nonsensical thoughts, but at least I could form words.
“Do you think those pizza rolls had oregano in them?” I gasped for breath.
Courtney limped as she ran. “Are you saying you think oregano had something to do with us raising the dead?” Her words came out choppy as we maneuvered over roots and undergrowth.
“Amy said oregano was used in the dark arts, and you called upon some unknown god while we burned a circle of oregano. You do the math.” My voice came out sharper than I’d intended, fear tightening my throat. “What are we going to do? We have to fight a dragon and the undead now?”
Her pace slowed. “It was an accident. Really, the dragon’s fault.”
“Right. The dragon we freed made me drop the pizza rolls into a fire and raise the dead. I’m sure everyone will be understanding.” My chest hurt. I could hardly breathe.
Moonlight caught Courtney’s face as she fell against a tree and rubbed her ankle. “We can blame the Evil One again.”
“You’re hurt.” I couldn’t breathe. I hurried over and knelt at her feet. “Where? Do you think it’s broken? Can you see bone? ” I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. Oh god, I could not breathe.
Courtney wore a strange expression. If I didn’t know better, I might say she was concerned. Then she smirked. “I told you most men know to bow before me. I knew you’d come around.”
My chest was constricted so tightly, I expected a rib to crack. “Would you stop joking around for once? Why can’t you take anything seriously? It’s like you don’t even care about safety.”
“I have the ultimate respect for your love of caution, Bryce. I even hope you have a warning label written about you one day. Imagine the honor.”
“Gee, thanks.” Wrangling my frantic fingers, I managed to wiggle her shoe off her heel.
She dug her fingers into my shoulders, drawing in a sharp, pained breath.
Purple bruises swelled around her ankle.
Visions of her being sucked into the ground, echoes of her screams—they flashed in my memory before settling in my gut to fester.
My vision swam, darkening around the edges.
“Relax, Bryce.” Her voice sounded distant. “One day the sun will explode and consume the universe, and none of this will have mattered.”
The shock factor of her words momentarily distracted me from my fear, and when she slipped her hand into mine, slowly, slowly, my pulse evened out.
I grimaced. “You are the most negative positive person I have ever met.” If she were the sunshine, she’d be happy, not because of how brightly she shone, but because she could give people sunburns.
Favoring her unharmed ankle, Courtney slid down the tree to look me in the eye.
As she scanned my face, the fight seemed to leave her body.
“What are we going to do? People here need help, and all we do is make things worse. It’s not as though three-to-five armies are going to rush to our aid at the last minute and save us.
We haven’t done any of the things heroes are supposed to do.
We don’t have a band of misfit sidekicks.
We haven’t slain any beasts or traveled thousands of miles on horseback.
All we’ve done is make everything worse. ”
I stood unsteadily, hand gravitating to my pocket, where I found the pebble Courtney gave me.
I held on to it for dear life. “We need to itemize all the bad shit and tick off our problems one by one,” I said, as though I could simply spreadsheet our way through being Chosen Ones.
“Step one, figure out who the fuck the Evil One is. As soon as we get back, we find Greg the mouse and ask him if he learned anything while we were away.”
“And what about the dragon and the skeletons?”
“I don’t know. We’ll talk to Amy about increasing guards around the city to buy us time until we figure it out.”
As morning light touched the horizon, the city finally came into view.
We kept looking over our shoulders for signs of the skeletons.
My ears prickled as I strained to hear the telltale crashing of bony feet through the forest, and my neck developed a crick from how often I kept searching the sky for the dragon.
Forcing ourselves to act natural, we walked through the gates to discover the streets bustling with activity.
I scrutinized everyone around me, looking for signs of fear that would indicate people had seen the dragon or undead, but everything seemed normal.
Carriages stretched down the main roads as far as we could see.
Banners waved on every house. People were setting up booths.
Children laughed. Hawkers’ shouts zipped back and forth as they tried to sell their wares.
Women gossiped in clusters. Smells of street food filled the air.
Somewhere far away, music played. An eerie sense of foreboding settled over me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.
It was the calm before the storm. It was only a matter of time before calamity swept through the city, and it was all our fault.
My eyes caught on a banner praising the return of a Chosen One, and that was when I remembered. “Oh, shit. The Chosen One tournament is today.” Frustration tried to claw its way out of my throat. None of this mattered anymore. We had bigger problems to worry about.
“We don’t have time for that,” Courtney said, echoing my thoughts. “There’s a dragon and a zombie army on the loose. We’ll come up with a reason to delay it.”
Just then, Amy materialized out of nowhere. “Ah, there you are. When your horses returned without you, we grew concerned. I trust you took care of the dragon?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Wonderful. We must make haste. The trial is about to start.” He beckoned for us to follow.
“I think we should postpone the tournament,” I tried, scampering after Amy as he ushered us through the crowd. “I’m… not feeling well.” Faking an illness had worked well enough before.
But Amy ignored me. “Come quickly. We must get you prepped. Everyone’s waiting!”
“What do you think about increasing security?” Courtney asked Amy, struggling to catch her breath as we trailed after him through the city.
“Pish posh,” Amy said absently. “Last night was peaceful. The Evil One seems to be lying low for now.”
“I just thought, with the increased crowds for the tournament, it might be wise,” Courtney pressed.
“Nonsense.” Amy waved a hand. “The citizens are well-behaved. There’s nothing to worry about from them.”
Courtney gave up arguing and fell back to hobble beside me. “I’m going to let you win so we can get this over with quickly and figure out how to stop the skeletons. You’re the Chosen One anyway. All that matters is fixing things and getting home.”
Hearing her give up the title so easily was no longer the triumph I’d once thought it would be. I had no idea why she thought I was more capable than her of saving the day. The thought of having to organize a defense against the Evil One only increased my panic.
I didn’t have much time to think about it, though, because Amy dropped us off at an armory where a guard strapped a bunch of metal to my body. A few minutes later, I was being pushed outside, where I found myself in a dirt arena, surrounded by loud, packed bleachers.
As someone shoved a blunt sword in my hand, I figured out that hand-to-hand combat was the first test of the tournament. In the bleachers, people talked and laughed.
I glanced toward the horizon, waiting to see a zombie horde approaching. Nothing yet.
A trumpet sounded, and I jumped in fright, expecting a dragon to drop from the sky.
Instead, a herald, who was predictably named Harold, stepped forward and spoke at an unnecessarily loud volume as he held a giant broadsword aloft, declaring it the award for whoever turned out to be the Chosen One.
The sword’s name, origin, and significance were discussed at length.
Basic human needs, like breathing, didn’t seem to apply to Harold the herald.
In the bleachers, Amy nodded along, and I half expected him to leap up and shout, Amen!