Chapter 8

At least this time I didn't have to wake up in a sewer, or with a mouthful of dirt. All I had to do was walk. And walk. And walk even more.

Left turn at the town, my ass. Yeah, that was the right direction, but he didn't tell me how far it'd be. Or if there were any other turns or such along the way. All I knew is that my stroll in the woods had turned into a vision quest. I walked even more. Fine, I'll admit that I occasionally wandered off the path when I saw a likely looking bunch of thorns. I kept hoping to find the brier patch. And also hoping that Peter Rabbit wouldn't hop out of any of them.

I wanted to rescue another hot chick, not some flopsy or mopsy creature. It was wicked weird that my dream left me so far out. Okay, so maybe there was something I was supposed to learn here. It would be nice if the powers that be were a little more clear on what they

wanted! I started to get that resentful feeling that useful information was being withheld from me. You know, like when your soon-to-be-ex says something like, "If I have to tell you what's wrong, there's no point."

I needed something to drink. I even found myself licking dew off grass. I was parched. Thankfully, most of the distance had been flat, but this new hill was killing me.

I was thirsty and hungry and my legs were killing me. Now, I was in reasonably good shape, but... this ... was this what folks in olden times went through? Was this what you had to do back then to survive? To be a hero? To rescue others?

Frankly, this was pretty boring. And tiring. And trying. And really hard on my knees!

I got to the top of the hill and dropped to a squat, breathing harshly through my parched throat. My kingdom for water.

I was on my knees, gasping, when I realized I was looking at a big bloody rose bush, thorns and all. Big enough to cover, say, a castle.

I was an English major in college. In spite of the teasing I'd gotten, I'd read all the fairy tale versions I could. Considering the dream I was having, I would get the last laugh on that decision.

I'd learned things that are utterly useless in the day-to-day world. But this was no ordinary place. I looked at this overgrown, under-tended rose garden gone wild and was able, once I got over the whole "Let's stay away from that unless my entire body was Armour Guarded" idea, to remember how idiot boy, whose parents were obviously at least first cousins, referred to Brier Rose, et cetera.

Brier Rose had another name, a Disney name, brought forth out of the three-page Grimm fairy tale. And, since I really, really need to invest my next paycheck in a brain, I didn't remember this until I saw this huge thorn patch.

Brier Rose was Princess Aurora, a.k.a. Sleeping Beauty.

I knew what I had to do. I stared at the Cody-maul patch, and realized that I was wicked glad I had never seen the Disney version of the story. Lord only knows what this would be if I had.

I really didn't dig facing dragons, beasties, or other evil shit without a good weapon. Or several. Well, actually, without an arsenal. A nice rocket launcher or a fast-acting herbicide would have been handy as well.

Alas, I didn't have anything but, well, me, right now. Me and my clothes.

Ah well, damsel and all... Butch in scuffed leather ...

I started down the hill. Slowly, 'cause I knew going down a hill too quickly could be hell on the knees. God I was getting old. And I didn't want to pull a Jack and Jill.

I walked, keeping my pace, down the steep hill, toward the brier-covered castle, thankful that I had on my leather. It could afford some protection.

As I neared I kept my eyes open, and that was the only reason I saw...

Him.

Shining armor and all. Silver, or some nice shiny stuff like that. White horse.

I hated him on sight.

But I couldn't out-race a horse. Nonetheless, I started moving faster, knees be damned.

I ran down the hill, right up to the thorns, and as I reached out with my hand, I swore I saw a shimmering—as if something was happening.

And I remembered...

The prince in shining armor does not save Sleeping Beauty. She just happens to be awakening from her hundred year sleep when he shows up. He's just lucky.

So, okay, choice time. I can let the "gallant" prince "save" her, or go for her myself. I can let her first kiss be with me. I smirked. Rapunzel had been pleased I'd gotten there first. So Sleeping Beauty might be equally pleased to know her first kiss from me, so much so she falls madly in love with me. Or I can let him do it, the lucky bastard.

He leisurely trotted up to the thorns. We looked at each other over the yards of brambles between us. He took off his helmet and studied me. He'd only try to keep me from the girl. This was a challenge I was supposed to win. Wasn't I?

Granted, he had the horse, so could move faster. He had a sword to clip through all the thorns and bushes in his way better than I.

Then I realized that if I rescued the princess and won her love, it wouldn't matter, because I would be off to another tale, another rescue, and she would be left with her love for me, but I wouldn't be there.

I really hated losing this one, especially to the other team. I mean, it's one thing to lose a woman to another woman, but to a man?

Yet he lived here and had come for her. We both had. Now, he had probably come farther (on horseback, so he could not be anywhere near as thirsty as I!) but...

We looked at each other. And I gave him The Butch Nod.

They'd live happily ever after, and right then I needed to believe in it.

Sometimes you have to realize the others' forever after, and get out of its way. Even if you'd like to know how well you'd face thorns and prickles, dragons and demons, and sleeping beauties. Even if you wish you could know how good you and a particular princess would be. Damnable thought—maybe not all princesses want to be rescued either.

Oh, hell. Fairy tales really aren't that interesting. Few pages each, and gruesome. Stephen King can't compare. At some point, I hesitantly admitted to myself, I had to live in a real world and accept that every problem wasn't mine to fix.

The prince plunged into the thorns without even putting his helmet back on.

That had to hurt!

I reached out, quite tentatively, to see what I was missing...

And faded to black.