Out of the Wild

by Sarah Beth Durst

  Julie spun around to face a monster. She shrieked and stumbled backward as he towered over her. The moon was behind him, framing him in its blue-white glow. She couldn’t see his eyes; they were sunken in fur. Tusks protruded from the fur around his mouth. His dark velvet cape cloaked his body, but she saw the glint of claws on his massive paws.

  A second later, she recognized him. She’d never met him in person before, but there was no question who he was. “You’re the Beast,” she said out loud. “Beauty’s Beast.”

  He inclined his head. “Once upon a time, I was,” he said. “Now I am no one’s Beast. Many years ago, I sent Beauty down to the world. As a beast, I would not be welcome in the world below. But Beauty . . . I could not bear to see her live in this place.”

  He sent her away? Of all the fairy-tale couples she’d heard of, Beauty and the Beast should have lasted. Their love was true. In their fairy tale, they didn’t simply kiss and marry; they became friends first. The only other fairy-tale love that came close was Rapunzel and her prince, since they had time together in Rapunzel’s tower. For the Beast to send Beauty away . . . Julie looked around. What was so horrible about this place that he’d sent her away? Across the fields of moonlit clouds, Julie saw stalks burst up through the white. She counted nearly a dozen. Elves and goblins leapt onto the backs of winged lizards and flying horses and flew toward the beanstalk tips. Above them, millions of stars filled the sky—more stars than she’d ever seen from her yard at home, more stars than she’d known were in the sky.

  “Why have you come here?” the Beast asked. “You did not come from the Wild, and you are not Jack. Who are you? Why are you here?”

  “I’m Rapunzel’s daughter,” Julie said automatically. After a second, she added, “And Rapunzel’s prince’s daughter too.” Even, she thought, if he didn’t remember that all the time. “My mother has been kidnapped, and my father”—she paused—“is in danger. Three other people were kidnapped too: Sleeping Beauty, Rumpelstiltskin, and his son. Please, I need your help. They need your help.”

  The Beast was silent. Julie couldn’t read his expression. He had to know her mother, she thought. All fairy-tale characters knew Zel. Did Mom know the Beast was here? Did she know he’d sent his Beauty away? It seemed sad, and so unfair.

  “I think my mom’s being held in Disneyland,” Julie said. The dragon had mentioned a castle, and Rumpelstiltskin had said that the original plan was for Dad to kiss Sleeping Beauty in the Disneyland castle. “My dad’s trying to save her, but he’s walking—flying—right into a trap. If you have a flying carpet or a broomstick or a spare dragon, maybe I can catch him and stop him before it’s too late.”

  “It is already too late,” the Beast said.

  Julie felt as if her stomach dropped into her shoes. “It can’t be too late,” she said. Only a few minutes had passed since Dad and the dragon had flown out of the Grand Canyon. It couldn’t be too late. She could still catch him.

  “Perhaps you do not know how serious things are,” he said.

  Julie knew it was serious. She’d been swallowed whole by a wolf. She’d nearly been scorched by a dragon.

  “Come. I will show you.” In a swirl of cape, the Beast strode over the clouds. Mist circled him as he walked. He halted at a gap in the clouds and pointed down to the earth below. Julie looked down.

  Below, so far below that her head spun, she saw a street filled with white, gold, and emerald neon. She saw a fountain, a mini-volcano, and a pyramid, plus a red-white-and-blue castle and a replica Eiffel Tower, all so small that they looked like toys. Beyond the neon city center, white and yellow lights spread out along ordinary streets and then faded into the darkness of desert.

  “Las Vegas,” the Beast said.

  But this castle was over Arizona. How could she be looking down at Nevada? They hadn’t walked more than a few feet. How could the clouds have drifted so far so fast? “I don’t understand,” she said. “How are we over a different state?”

  “Wherever you are, if you plant a magic bean, it grows into a beanstalk that reaches to the giant’s castle in the clouds,” the Beast said. “We have discovered that the reverse is also true: from the giant’s castle, you can reach anywhere.”

  Julie gawked at him. Anywhere? Then that meant . . . She could reach Disneyland from here!

  “From here, we can see all that we miss in the world below,” he said. “It is somewhat ironic. For many long years, this has been our torment. There is so much that we miss. This—watching the world from afar and never being part of it—was not what we imagined our lives would be like when we left the Wild. But now, our torment is our salvation. Our separation from the world has proved to be our best protection.”

  Her parents were just a few steps away and several miles straight down! This was incredible! Better than incredible!

  “Come and look here,” the Beast said. “You’ll understand once you see.” He pointed toward another gap in the clouds, only a few feet away.

  Her heart sang. She wasn’t too late; she was early! Using the clouds, she could reach Mom before Dad did. She could prevent the last fairy-tale trap. She could save them!

  Kneeling on the clouds, she looked where the Beast pointed. Below, she saw darkness. “I don’t see anything . . .” she began. Wait, was it moving? The earth below undulated like waves. Maybe it wasn’t land; maybe she was over ocean.

  “Now look here.”

  She looked up and saw he’d moved farther east to another gap in the clouds. She followed him and again looked down at writhing blackness.

  “And here,” he said.

  Julie looked down another hole to see the same sight. “I don’t understand,” she said. “What am I supposed to be seeing?”

  Gently, he said, “The Wild.”

  She swallowed hard and looked again. “Where?” she asked. All she saw was darkness. She couldn’t tell where the Wild stopped and the real world began. “Is this Massachusetts?” she asked, but knew as she said it that it was worse than just Massachusetts. His shadowed eyes watched her. “Has it taken New York?” Millions of people lived in New York. If the Wild swallowed New York, that meant millions more fairy-tale events to fuel the Wild.

  “New York was lost last night,” he said.

  “How far?” she whispered. “DC? The whole East Coast?”

  “It passed the Mississippi this afternoon. An hour ago, it swallowed Texas and spread into northern Mexico,” the Beast said. He led her back to the clouds above Las Vegas. She looked down. Darkness inched across the city. Half of the Las Vegas lights were now gone, swallowed by the darkness, swallowed by the Wild. “In a few hours, the Wild will cover the entire continent. Very soon, this castle will be the only safe place left.”

  Her knees felt like jelly. She’d never imagined it was this bad.

  “So you see, we cannot allow you to leave,” he said. His voice was soft—kind, even—and full of pity. “If we allow a beanstalk to stand long enough for you to climb down . . . The Wild is spreading too far and too fast for us to risk it.”

  “But the Wild isn’t in California yet!” Julie said. She could still reach Mom and Dad. She could still—

  “I have a responsibility to the creatures who live here,” the Beast said. “I cannot allow you to endanger us.” He laid a heavy paw on her shoulder. “This is your home now.” His other arm swept across the skyscape and the castle.

  He was keeping her here? He couldn’t! “You have to let me go!” Julie said. She heard her voice squeak like a little kid’s and didn’t care. “Please, it’s not too late!” She tried to dig her heels into the clouds. Mist swirled around her feet.

  “Believe me when I say that I am sorry,” he said. “This is not a life that I would wish on anyone, to be confined in the clouds.” He sighed like a gust of wind. “That is why I sent Beauty away. In retrospect, I should not have done so.”

  “Please, let me go!” She was so close! Julie felt tears prick her eyes. Dad was the one who was supposed
to be walking into a trap, yet she was the one caught like a fly in a spider’s web.

  “You will be safe here,” the Beast said. “Perhaps not happy, but safe.”

  Julie felt her pocket with her elbow. The magic beans were still there. If she could escape the Beast, then she could drop one down a hole in the clouds—maybe a hole directly over Disneyland! It was her only hope. As soon as the Beast was distracted . . . If he was ever distracted . . .

  “Or at least as safe as any of us,” he amended. “There are some who believe it is hopeless. Right now, inside the castle, Jack’s giant is writing and rewriting his story, in hopes of changing his fate in the Wild. But I believe—”

  Changing his fate? Julie’d never heard of any fairy-tale character doing such a thing. “Can he do that?” Could the giant really rewrite his fairy tale?

  The Beast hesitated. “There is no one to hear his new story. It cannot be a real fairy tale until it is told to people. But the giant believes all other hope is lost. I do not! I swear to you that I will fight to defend our home. As long as I have breath in my body, you will be safe here.” He raised his voice so that it carried to the creatures across the clouds. “The Wild will not take us!”

  Suddenly, a beanstalk punched through the clouds only a few feet away. Another poked through behind her. Elves (tiny, red-clothed elves from the Elves and the Shoemaker story) swarmed around them. One of them pressed something into Julie’s hands, and she found herself in a line of elves, holding on to one of the ropes. Other elves swarmed down the beanstalk. On command, she pulled with them as the beanstalk swayed and fell.

  “Why are you destroying the beanstalks? Is this your plan to stop the Wild?” she asked the Beast as he grabbed onto a rope near the next beanstalk.

  “The Wild can’t take the castle if it can’t reach it,” the Beast said. “Destroying the stalks will keep us safe.” A team of bears joined him with more ropes, and a half-dragon woman and a hedgehog boy clambered down and efficiently felled two stalks.

  More beanstalks poked though the clouds, and Julie grabbed another rope with the shoemaker’s elves. Beanstalks, she realized, were flying up from everywhere the Wild was—and that was most of the country. She understood why the giant thought this was hopeless. She’d never imagined the Wild would spread so far. “It’s my fault,” Julie said half to herself. “I knew better, and I let Dad walk into trap after trap.” Everything that had happened since Prince’s return—maybe even including his return—had been a setup. And she hadn’t stopped it. She hadn’t even seen it. The Wild had been safe and secure under Julie’s bed. It could have stayed there indefinitely if she hadn’t let the third blind mouse run in. Or if she hadn’t let Dad pick up the glass slipper in Times Square. Or kill the wolf. Or fight the dragon.

  “It’s not your fault, child,” the Beast said. “It’s mine.”

  His fault? What did he mean? She tore her eyes from the beanstalk to look at him. Moonlight reflected off his velvet cape, but his thick fur seemed to absorb all light. It was like looking at a living shadow.

  “I should never have sent Beauty away,” he said.

  His Beauty was undoubtedly trapped in the Wild by now, just like Boots and Gillian and Grandma and everyone else. But that wasn’t his fault. He shouldn’t blame himself. “You didn’t know this would happen,” she said. Julie should have known where Dad’s actions would lead. She should have fought harder to make Dad turn around and go home. She should have stopped Dad from flying out of Jack’s apartment. She should have guessed it was all a trap. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought.

  He shook his head. “I should have foreseen this.”

  Before she could reply, tiny voices shouted, “It’s away!” The rope jerked forward. Julie and the elves leaned backward and pulled. Yet another beanstalk burst through the clouds. After a delay, a trio of flying monkeys swarmed down it.

  Behind her, she heard a thundering crash. Everyone froze and all eyes turned toward the castle. Julie saw a green beanstalk shoot up through one of the castle turrets. Stones tumbled down, crashing into the walls and smashing down on the drawbridge.

  “To the castle!” the Beast shouted. With a cry, a half dozen fairies flew toward the wrecked turret. Two griffins circled and then dove.

  A bird-woman soared over them. “Stalks to the north!” she cried.

  Across the skyscape, Julie saw more beanstalks stab through the clouds. Mist puffed around them. Pixies swarmed over the clouds to perch on the tips, lighting them like beacons for the creatures with axes to see. The creatures spread out and scurried down stalks.

  “There have never been so many!” the Beast said.

  “The Wild must have noticed that you were chopping down the beanstalks,” Julie said. The Beast and his friends were chopping them all down before anyone could climb up a stalk, meet the giant, and complete the Jack and the Beanstalk story. The Wild must have realized that no one was completing the story! Now that it had noticed, it was sending up as many beanstalks as it could. This was a deliberate attack. It was sheer awful coincidence that the attack had started just as Julie arrived.

  Or was it? The Wild couldn’t be attacking because Julie had arrived, could it? No, that was ridiculous. Why would the Wild care about her? Granted, she was the one who had stopped it last time . . . She pushed the thought out of her mind and concentrated on pulling up the rope. She was sweating now, and her hair stuck to her forehead as if it was glued in place.

  All around them, beanstalks sprang through the clouds, one after another after another shooting up in plumes of mist. Julie looked out over the clouds and saw a sea of green tips, as if the clouds were a moonlit field. There were hundreds. Thousands. Pixies flitted over them, vastly outnumbered.

  “Oh, wow,” she whispered as her heart sank. There were so many. Too many.

  “Fire!” the Beast yelled. “We need fire!” At his command, winged creatures flew over the beanstalk tips while elves, mounted on their backs, lit the beanstalks on fire with torches. A seven-headed dragon shot flame from each of its heads. Across the clouds, beanstalks burned. Inky smoke stained the night sky. But still, more beanstalks burst through the clouds. There were now hundreds of thousands of leafy green stalks.

  They’d never be able to stop them all. They were going to lose the castle! “You have to let me find my parents!” Julie called after him. “They can help! I can bring them here to help!”

  CRASH! A green stalk suddenly burst through the drawbridge. Splinters of wood shot into the air. Another stalk crashed through the battlements. Stones rained down on the clouds. Julie heard screams. Handing his rope to an ogre, the Beast charged toward the castle.

  Looking around, Julie knew she had one choice. She had to stop this. She had to find her parents, stop the kidnappers, and stop the Wild. And she wasn’t going to be able to do any of those things if she stayed here and fought a losing battle. Getting to her feet, she raced toward the castle.

  Up ahead, she spotted a hole in the clouds. Dropping to her knees, Julie looked down through the puffs of gray. She saw the twinkle of thousands of lights curling and stretching in every direction and then ending to the east in darkness. Was that desert? Or ocean? If it was the Pacific Ocean . . . She jumped to her feet and ran to the next hole. Same thing: a twinkle of lights that ended in a stretch of black. She had to have found the ocean! All she needed to do was follow the edge south until she saw Disneyland.

  South, south, south . . . As she ran, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the bottle of magic beans. She knelt by another gap in the clouds. No Disney. She ran to the next. Not yet. Another. No. And another.

  Finally, Julie found it. Kneeling beside the hole in the clouds, she stared down at the gleaming lights of Disneyland, which made it easily recognizable from the clouds. She saw the shapes of the rides—the white peaks of Space Mountain, the tent-like roofs of carousels, a man-made circular river . . .

  She dropped the bean.

  “Come on,” she whispered.
“Grow! Grow!”

  Nothing.

  Still nothing.

  Wait, was that . . . Yes, there! From above, the stalk looked like a mass of leaves shooting upward with the power of a rocket. She scrambled back just as the beanstalk burst through the clouds. The tip curled in front of Julie’s nose. She glanced back one more time at the sea of burning beanstalks and at the shattered castle.

  Vines crawled like black snakes across the face of the stone. They were losing—the Wild was coming. Feeling sick, Julie jumped on the stalk and began to climb down.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Down the Beanstalk

  Cool air circled Julie as she climbed down through the clouds. Faster, she urged herself. Faster! If the Beast and his creatures spotted her beanstalk, they’d chop it down, and she’d fall. She had to reach the bottom before that happened. She lowered herself down to the next leaf stem and then the next.

  As she climbed lower, the shouts and cries from the fairy-tale creatures faded, carried away by the wind. Soon, there was silence. She heard only the wordless wind and the rustle of the leaves. Had she climbed too low to hear the battle above, or was it over? Had the Wild won? She wasn’t about to climb back up and check. She continued down.

  How long would the Beast and his creatures be able to fight? They might last for a while, but could they stop hundreds of thousands beanstalks? Or millions? Sooner or later, they would lose and the last safe place would fall.

  As the leaves rustled around her, she caught glimpses of the Los Angeles lights below. Tiny specks, they looked like earthbound stars. She wondered if her mom was down below looking up toward her. Even though Mom didn’t have to hide away like the Beast, she did have to keep her existence a secret too. Julie thought of Dad’s reaction when Mom had told him he needed to hide who he was. You fought for freedom, he had said. How is it freedom to hide who you are? Maybe Mom wasn’t so different from the Beast after all. She was hiding in plain sight, but she was still hiding. She was pretending to be ordinary and trying to blend in. Julie did the same thing at school, pretending that she fit in—hiding who she was, what she’d done, and where she’d come from. That wasn’t right either.