“I’m gonna kill him,” Dennis muttered weakly, wrapping his arms around his soaked self. “Why us?”
Galen sighed in exasperation at the mention of this question for the hundredth time, shrugging. “Shut up,” he muttered, rubbing his reddened hands. "Let's just get this over with."
Right outside the window they’d just finished scrambling through there was a booming thunder loud enough to be heard for miles. The wind and rain lashed violently at the stone walls. The castle of Zakynthos that they'd just broken into seemed as dangerous as ever.
Dennis, being the thin and fearful man he’d always been, stood shivering by the window, leaping nearly a foot in the air at the next crack of lightning. Swallowing hard, he made his eyes focus through the dark on Galen’s large, thick shape.
“Do you see her?” he whispered, suddenly wondering if anyone could possibly hear them through the thick walls and raging storm.
“She’s right here,” Galen responded irritably, annoyed at Dennis’s unnecessary anxiety.
Sneaking into one of the world’s most deadly places was one thing, but kidnapping their princess would call for fifty years minimum of imminent torture.
Still shuddering with the thought of running into a ghoul or demon, Dennis stepped towards Galen, peering over his thick shoulder at the snoozing infant below. Though it sounded like a savage attack was going on right outside her window, the princess was sleeping rather peacefully.
“She’s.... beautiful,” Dennis said, since he couldn’t think of anything else to say for the moment. The little baby was beautiful though—with loads of dark curls bordering a small, adorable heart-shaped face, thick black lashes resting heavily on her flushed round cheeks.
“Well, go on,” Galen urged, elbowing Dennis in the ribs. “Grab her.”
“Me?” Dennis squeaked, a hint of panic coloring his tone. He rubbed his stomach where it had collided with Galen’s elbow, sure that he would have a bruise by tomorrow.
“Yes you,” Galen said, as if it were beyond obvious, and then paused to chuckle at the expression of horror on Dennis’s face.
“I’m not going anywhere near that demon baby! What if it turns on me?”
“Then I’ll haul your dead body back to Messenia,” Galen growled, but reached in the black-laced crib to grasp the baby around the waist.
"Wait--" Dennis said suddenly, grabbing a small bottle out of his pocket--the sleeping potion. Galen placed the child back on the bed so Dennis could nervously drip a few drops onto her small, lips. The princess licked her lips, but didn't wake.
Galen picked her up but still held her out at arms length. Dennis slung the backpack off his scrawny shoulders and handed it to Galen, and Galen slid her inside carefully.
“C’mon,” muttered Galen, and Dennis followed hastily behind him to the window.
Getting down was far more difficult than the journey up. The wind and rain were monsters of their own, threatening to make their fingers slip from the rope and plummet them to a horrible death in the Black Lake that lied below. Dennis was sure their bodies would never be found—the vicious water python would rip them to shreds before they had a chance to blink.
But then there was the horrible worry that the infant Galen carried in his backpack would wake if she was somehow immune to the potion, and they wouldn’t have time to knock her unconscious again. This child was everyone’s worst nightmare—her powers were extraordinarily potent, strong and lethal. As Dennis thought about it, he guessed the Zakynthians weren’t frightened of this child because they were nearly as incredibly deadly themselves.
Once Dennis’s feet touched the rain-drenched earth, he breathed a sigh of relief, though their mission was far from over. He stuffed the rope they’d been using into his soggy coat. Pulling it tight around him, he jogged behind Galen towards the Forest of Fatality, glancing once more behind him. The immensely tall castle loomed in the darkness, its coal black towers almost blending into the night sky. A blinding flash of lightning lit up the soaring ominous building once more, and then it was gone.
:
Why not consider: "with many dark curls of hair"?
