Jaclyn and the Beanstalk

by Mary Ting

Longinus’s deep amber eyes shot to me. His irises pulsed like a heartbeat, glowing and growing darker in rage. “Don’t use that kind of tone with me, little girl.” The thrumming in his irises stopped and his expression softened. “So, tell me ... do you think your mother would taste as delicious as your father?”

  Rage burned through my bones, and my breath escaped sharp and swift. Wrath stole my self-control, and I needed to be in control. Longinus was playing with my mind, so I decided to do the same with his.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you really did to cause this curse?”

  He blinked in confusion, taken aback. I had gotten his attention. With his elbows on the table and a fist resting under his chin, he looked off in the distance.

  “No one has ever asked me that, but then again no one has been foolish enough to dare come face to face with me.” He sneered and pierced another chunk of meat with his nail. Holding it up as if to examine it, he said, “Like I said before, I was only doing my job, what I’d done to many before Jesus. I did not know who Jesus was. He did not give me any sign of divinity. What kind of god would let his own son be tortured?” Longinus shoved the meat in his mouth and set his eyes on me. “I have the answer. The kind of god who does not care.”

  “You’re wrong. You—”

  I stopped when Longinus slammed his fist against the table with an echoing bang, knocking food off his plate. The cup tilted. That time, ale spilled and not the blood from the sheep.

  “You shall not judge me.” He bared his terrifying teeth.

  “You knew who He was.” My tone rose as loud as his. “But you refused to believe. You turned away.”

  The lance trembled in my hand. A rush of warmth waved through me, not from a breeze, but something divine. A spirit of truth and revelation wrapped around me, showing me Longinus by the crosses.

  “You cared more about what your fellow men thought than you did yourself. You speared Him to prove a point, and so you could save yourself. You even played a game with dice to see who would win his blood-stained robe.” I gasped and stumbled back when the words stopped coming, afraid of what I had seen.

  “Enough!” Longinus swept an arm across the table, knocking plates and food, and stood.

  I flinched, but for Father I continued. “Nay, it is not yet enough. You do not want to hear your fault. You have invented excuses so you can justify what you did. It’s not the action, but what you felt in your heart that damned you. You felt nothing when you speared Jesus. You only needed to apologize for being the one who ensured His death. All those who asked for forgiveness were granted it. You just needed to believe. You would have been forgiven, too.”

  Words flowed out of my mouth, but I did not know from whence they came. I spoke with wit and courage of things I could not know. It was as if I spoke someone else’s words.

  He froze for a second. “Then tell me, if your god forgives easily, why did He let the curse fall on so many innocents? Mary should have cursed only me, not the gathered crowd. They did no wrong.”

  “I do not know God’s mind. No one does. But why are you taking revenge against my people? They did not curse you. They do not know you. They only know the monsters that have now spilled the blood of many people. Just like you, they have no answers. If you think what has happened to you was unjust, then why are you doing the same?”

  Longinus sat back on the ground, his evil amber eyes dancing. After a few long seconds, his lips tugged, and he said, “Because I can.”

  “Then you are a hypocrite.” I marched forward slowly, one careful step after another. “You don’t deserve salvation. You deserve the hell you live through every day. Your heart is cold as stone. Mary’s punishment for you was righteous. I feel sorry for you no more. I used to. During the nights when you turned, I felt your pain. I heard the screams in my head. I felt everything you felt. I do not know why we are connected, but we are. But fate has brought me to you. As much as I don’t want to, I’m here for a reason. I do not know how, but I know I can help you if you let me. You can be free. Your people can be free. Would you not want that for your people, if not for yourself? I see you care about your people. You can help them.”

  Longinus stood up and took three steps toward me. His long, brown and black fur swayed with each stride. Had I anticipated what he would do next, I would have run, or at least braced myself.

  Longinus simply swatted me like I was something in his way.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Power of the Lance

  Pain sliced through me as I slammed against the cave wall and fell to the ground, losing my grip on the dagger and lance. I had never known such physical pain, not even when I had fallen off the horse, or hadn’t paid attention and received a blow from Father’s training sword.

  Blood trickled down my chin from a cut lip, and my head throbbed. By miracle, no bones had been broken, I thought, though I would be sorely bruised and aching.

  Jack dropped by my side while the other men held up their swords to give me time to come out of my stupor. William and his men came back just in time to help, but without Father.

  My heart slammed against the boulder.

  Where was Father?

  Why had they come back without him? Rage surged through my veins. I wanted to shout. I didn’t need their help. I wanted them to find my father. Then I realized they wouldn’t have given up easily. They couldn’t find him.

  “Are you hurt?” Jack helped me up. His eyes roamed my body, assessing if there was any damage.

  Though my body slowed by pain, I managed to lift myself half way up. I did not answer. Instead, I asked, “My dagger? My lance?”

  Jack glanced to his left and bent to pick up the lance, but he could not. He tried again. Nothing. He tried again. No luck.

  “What in heavens?” His eyebrows lifted. “I can’t pick it up. What did you do?”

  I shrugged, reached down and picked it up effortlessly, and then picked up the dagger. The lance felt so light. Maybe somehow it was magically bound only to me ... and perhaps Father. Father did say the lance and I were at his doorstep. He had to have been able to lift it to hide it. There were so many unanswered questions—the crazy old lady, the beans, healed wounds, and real monsters, so why not the lance?

  “Maybe you need to build your strength.” I winked.

  It was all the time we had to jest. Longinus’s roar thundered through the cave. He jabbed a claw through a man’s gut and knocked several men against the wall as he had me. When he came toward me, I planted my feet and held the lance in front of me with trembling hands. I waved it back and forth, trying to find an opening to lodge it into his body.

  Longinus backed away, cursing, holding his claws in front of his eyes. “It’s too bright. Get it away from me.”

  Longinus stumbled back until he reached the far wall. No light shone from the lance. Then he dropped his arms and snapped his jaw. His expression of rage held me still. Every inch of me quaked and my pulse raced too fast for me to keep up, but I would not show fear.

  He snarled. “You dare to threaten me with what was once mine? Where did you get that? Mary took it from me. Did she give it to you?”

  The lance was his? Jack and I exchanged glances. I shook my head. Many strange things had happened since the day I first touched the lance, and I had no answers.

  “Answer me.” Longinus growled and came closer in short time with his long strides, but kept his distance. His breath, smelling of rotting meat, fluttered my hair.

  I shuddered and backed away. “I’ll answer your question if you tell me where you hid my father.”

  Longinus glared at me but did not attack. Even as a monster, the need for answers apparently outweighed his thirst for blood. We were born to want questions answered, and curiosity got the best of us all.

  “Very well. Back away from the table. If you shine that thing on me, I’ll snap your father’s neck.”

  I complied and brought it down. My heart soared.

  Father is alive. He’s
alive. Alive.

  Longinus reached with his beastly thick hand behind a curve in the cave wall. Father had been so close and unguarded; why had he not escaped? Happy tears bubbled in my eyes. At last, he would know I kept my promise to come for him.

  That feeling burst when Longinus dragged him out, and when I saw him, all of him. Oh, dear God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. I nearly fell to my knees.

  The loud gasps from the men showed my eyes hadn’t played tricks on me. They tried to gather around him, but Longinus stood guard and roared. His paws flung from side to side, and he snapped at us.

  “Don’t touch him. He’s mine.” He acted like a child holding on to his favorite toy.

  Father’s outstretched arm was bound to a thick log, too heavy for his weight, swaying like a drunk as Longinus forced him to walk. His tunic hung in tatters, and fresh claw marks stretched across the front of his chest and back. Dried blood marked his forehead under a wreath of thorns atop his head.

  “Father did not listen well. He needed some punishment. He would not tell me where you lived. I wanted to reunite your mother and father, but he did not obey,” Longinus said casually.

  My whole body trembled, as my father’s did, but for a different reason. I wanted to kill Longinus. My heart bled with anger, revenge, and hate. No words could describe seeing Father in such horrid condition. It gutted my insides.

  Why is this happening? Father is a good kind man. He does not deserve this.

  I cursed silently at the world—even God. Then I blamed myself.

  Somehow, fate had brought me to this man who had taken me in and loved me as his own daughter. He had taught me how to be strong, and yet I weakened. He had taught me how to love, yet my heart burned with hatred. He had taught me to forgive, yet I wanted to kill Longinus with every essence of my being.

  My ugly fate had brought Father there.

  Tears streamed down my face, and I had to use every bit of strength I had not to break apart. Father needed me. I must find myself again to save him. Turning away, I wiped the tears so Longinus would not know how badly he hurt me. I did not want to give him the satisfaction.

  “I’ve done as you asked. You pay your end of the bargain, little girl. Where did you get that lance?” Longinus dragged his claws on the ground around my father—a warning.

  My fists tightened so hard I felt them go numb, and I let the darkest part of my soul free. “I’m going to kill you,” I seethed slowly with venom in my tone. “Then I’m going to kill every member of your crazy family, and not just in this cave. I’m going to make every one of your people burn alive in Hell, the Hell I will create for them.”

  His half-human, half-lion-like nose twitched as he scraped his claws down the boulder next to him, making long scratch marks. I cringed. It sounded like fingernails on slate. If I didn’t know any better I’d thought he was sharpening his claws.

  “Isn’t that what my people are doing to your people right now?” He moved onto his other claw, doing the same. “Funny how this cycle never ends. Now, speak before I rip your father’s heart out.”

  I circled Longinus, trying to find a way to my father as I spoke, “Oh no. You did not treat my father well. I’m not happy. And when I’m not happy, I tend to change my mind.” I rambled on, trying to distract him. When I found an opening, I raised the lance as close to his face as possible. “I will take my father back.”

  He shrank away and covered his eyes. “Kill them all!”

  Strength and speed that were not mine came to me, and the throbbing pain lifted. The lance gave me power.

  It had given me visions; why not other abilities? I would question it no more. I accepted the divinity, along with my destiny. My courage rose. The inherited weapon would help me kill Longinus.

  Ten monsters came at us at once, and we scattered. The monsters did not seem to be bothered by the light like Longinus. It did not matter; I fought like a warrior.

  I jumped from one small boulder to another and then leapt up two more boulders—each bigger than the last—to give myself height. I stood at the same level as one of the monster’s face. Leaping off, I pointed the lance downward and pierced through its heart. It did not drop to the ground in a natural death. Instead, it burst into flames and disappeared as if it had never existed.

  It should not have made sense, yet I accepted the lance’s power. Nine more to kill to bring my father home.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw William and his men bring two monsters down to their knees. Then William decapitated them. The dead monsters did not disappear like the one I had killed; they dropped to the ground, and their blood soaked the dirt.

  When two monsters came at me at once, I ducked and hid behind a boulder. Their long claws grabbed at me, but the boulder was close to the wall, and their big hands could not reach. Then I stabbed the lance through their palm one after the other. They exploded into fiery dust.

  Jack rode one of the monsters like a horse. Leave it to Jack to be crazy, but I loved his craziness. The monster dropped with Jack’s dagger sprouting from its head.

  Only four monsters left until Father was free. So close. I felt his arms around me.

  “Just hold on, Father. I’m coming.” My panic and urgency to save father surged me forward.

  I jabbed the lance into a monster’s foot and then I turned to pierce another. Though I did not injure it gravely, it disappeared in flames. When I spun to find the others, William and his men had taken down two. I readied myself to face the last one, but it slipped away, only to get its belly sliced across by Jack’s sword. Blood spilled from the deep slash as it howled in pain and dropped.

  Longinus stood not too far, his back to me, swinging his arms at the men, leaving me a clear path to him. With confidence, I threw the lance with every bit of strength I possessed. Watching, I held my breath as the lance soared to stab Longinus in the side just as he turned.

  I’ve got you now. I will be the end of you.

  My gloating smile faltered. The lance did not harm him, but instead bounced away. It flew back to me and landed in my hands. I gasped and my blood ran cold. My purpose and certainty deserted me.

  Longinus could not be killed.

  What was I to do?

  Longinus’s eyes rounded. Then his malicious amber irises glowed, pulsating. “You cannot kill me. My own lance will not betray me. Even this material thing will not forsake me. How about your God?”

  My heart stopped. I had not noticed until that moment Longinus held Father by the arm. For the first time since I had arrived, Father looked at me. His eyes darkened with terror.

  Father already looked bad enough, with the dried blood covering him. Having a closer view of his severely battered and bruised face brought me to another level of anger.

  Biting my lip and holding my breath, I tried to plot my next move. Not knowing what Longinus had planned, I waited. I would have brandished the lance again, but I worried he would react by hurting Father.

  “Throw my lance toward me, carefully, or I’ll rip out your father’s heart,” he said.

  Without hesitation, I threw the lance at his feet. He reached down to pick it up, but like Jack, Longinus could not. I was as mystified as he was. Roaring in anger, he stomped back to Father.

  Longinus’s evil eyes beamed wickedly while his claws drummed on the log tied to Father.

  Click. Click. Click.

  With every passing moment, my heart pounded faster, awaiting his next move. With a claw, he slit the rope, freeing one of Father’s arms. When he cut through the other with another swift slash, Father dropped to his knees, and slumped forward, the log tumbling off to the side.

  Father’s bloody chest rose and fell rapidly. He might be on his last breath. I closed my eyes, unable to bear what he’d gone through.

  I did not realize I was walking toward my father until Jack held me back.

  “No. He’s trying to lure you in without the lance.”

  “I need to help Father. He’s hurt.” Tears formed in my
eyes. Reaching out my hand, I murmured, “Father, I am here. I’ve come back for you just as I promised. You are not alone.”

  Father slowly tilted up his head. His blackened eyes swelled almost shut, but I knew he could hear me. I needed him to know I had come back for him. When a small smile lifted his lips, which seemed to take much effort, I let out a shuddering cry.

  “I’m going to take you out of here,” I said. “Mother awaits us at home.”

  His lips twitched slightly when I mentioned Mother.

  “How touching.” Longinus gave me mocking grin. “Did you think you could win, little girl?”

  “Take me. Let my father go. I’m the one you want. I’m the one who can kill you. I am of Mary’s blood. You seek revenge? Take it from my flesh.”

  He craned his neck sideways. Baffled. Sizing me up. “You would take your father’s place? He is not your father. He is not of your blood.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “He is my father, whether I am of his blood or not. He is hurting. He needs care. He’ll die soon if you don’t release him.”

  I dropped my pride and pleaded. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t say or do to help him. I’d thought if Longinus could remember his loved ones, his heart would soften and perhaps he would let Father go.

  “Do you remember your family or anyone from your past? Was there anyone you would give your life for?”

  “My wife and children.”

  I was surprised he replied quickly, and even more so when he growled and looked baffled by the fact he had answered me.

  His ears, nose, and lips twitched. “They’re gone, taken from me. It does not matter.”

  Every time he spoke, his foul animal breath brushed my face.

  “It does matter,” I said. “You can’t be with them because you’re here. Then that’s not love. You love yourself more.”

  “That is not true.” He snarled. “I once loved them. I suffered greatly when I turned into this creature and they were taken from me. They were my life.” His tone softened, and so did his expression. “It’s been a long while since I’ve thought of them ... my wife and two sons.”