“You added the beanstalk,” I said. “After coming to the World Below.”
The dimples in my mother’s cheeks put in a brief appearance. She is so beautiful, still so beautiful when she smiles, I thought. No wonder the father I had never known had fallen in love with her at first sight.
“I wondered how long it would take you to notice that,” my mother said. “You’re right. I stitched the beanstalk that first winter, while I was waiting for you and Jack to be born.”
“Before or after you cut the cloak up for our blankets?”
The dimples put in another swift appearance. “Before. It was a cold winter. The cloak covered my lap and helped to keep me warm.”
“But what does it all mean?” Jack demanded. “Why wait to tell us now?”
“These are the symbols of our family’s power,” my mother replied. “Of the covenant between us and those we once governed. I didn’t tell you about them before because . . .” She paused.
“Because they were so specific,” I said suddenly. I was good at solving puzzles. It was part of my ability to make a plan.
I glanced sidelong at Jack. “Specific enough to give us away if someone I know couldn’t keep quiet about them.”
“Hey,” Jack protested.
“I’m sorry to say this, Jack,” our mother told him. “But Gen is right. You do have a tendency to speak before you think, no matter who’s around.”
I wasn’t sure who was more surprised, Jack or I. Mama almost never criticizes him, perhaps because they’re so close. Even when she does point out some flaw, she almost always lets Jack off the hook with little more than a scolding.
“It’s just part of my exuberant nature,” Jack said with a grin. When he does that, he has the same two dimples in his cheeks as Mama.
Mama sighed. Here we go again, I thought. Those dimples, so much like her own, get her every time. I just have the one in my chin. It’s less charming, apparently, since you can see it all the time.
“So it is,” she said. “And that is one of the things I love best about you, as you well know.” Jack had the grace to look down. “But pay attention. Gen really does have a point.
“A country lad boasting of being more than what he seems is nothing special. There are lads all over the World Below who do. Lads whose dreams are larger than the circumstances of their lives. But a lad who boasts and can back it up by describing his family’s coat of arms, that kind of a lad calls a particular kind of attention to himself, attention we still cannot afford.”
Jack frowned. He rubbed his fingers over the ridges in the braided rug.
“All right,” he finally acknowledged. “I see the point.”
The point, I noticed. Not Gen’s point. I bit down on my tongue.
“Why are these symbols on our coat of arms, Mama?” I said instead. “How did our family come by them?”
“That is a good story too,” our mother said. “One I’ve long wished to tell you.
“Many years ago, one of your father’s ancestors gave shelter to a wizard. He did this out of the goodness of his heart, without knowing who the man was. In gratitude, the wizard gave him three magical gifts designed to help him govern wisely and well.
“The first was a sack of gold with the power to refill itself, a demonstration of the way a kingdom will prosper when it is justly governed. The second was a goose who could lay eggs with yolks so rich and golden that, even if all the crops in the kingdom should fail, the people would never go hungry. The third was a harp with a voice so pure it could speak the truth of its own accord. Your father’s ancestor accepted the gifts with thanks. Then he incorporated them into the family’s coat of arms.”
“But what about the beanstalk?” Jack asked.
“I am coming to that,” said my mother. “It turned out that the wizard had a fourth gift to bestow, one not as pleasant as the others. He looked into the future and saw that a great sadness would befall our house. He could not see precisely how it would come about, or even what it was. So the wizard made a prophecy, which was also something of a riddle:
“‘That which has taken you away from all you love will also be the means to restore you.’ Your father’s ancestor then decreed that the final quarter of the shield must be left blank until the riddle could be solved.”
“A beanstalk,” I murmured, brushing my fingers over the stitches my mother had made.
“A beanstalk,” my mother agreed, nodding.
“But it was Guy de Trabant who took everything you loved away,” Jack protested. “Not that I’d want to see his face on our family coat of arms.”
“That’s not what the prophecy said,” I countered before Mama could respond. “It doesn’t say, ‘that which has taken what you love away from you,’ it says ‘that which has taken you away from all you love.’”
“Even so,” my mother said. “And the thing that did that was a beanstalk. Now, at last, the second part of the wizard’s prophecy has come true. Jack’s beans will provide us with the means to return to the World Above.”
My mother rose to her feet, her blue eyes shining with a light that I had never seen there before.
“But we will not stop there, my children. We will not simply return. We will do more. We will drive the usurper Guy de Trabant from our lands. We will reclaim what is rightfully ours!”
FOUR
There was a silence so profound you could have heard a feather drop.
“How?”
My mother’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“There, you see? That’s just it!” I cried, surging to my feet. “How are we supposed to reclaim all that is rightfully ours? Guy de Trabant has already killed to claim a kingdom. He’s hardly going to welcome us with open arms.”
“Well, we’ll just have to think of something,” Jack said. He stood up too and stepped to Mama’s side, wrapping a possessive arm around her shoulders. “We’ll think of a way.”
“Yes,” I said. “But how will we know if what we think up is possible? It’s been sixteen years since Mama escaped. All we know are the old stories. None of us has any idea what’s happened in the World Above during her absence. It is possible Guy de Trabant could actually be dead.”
“No,” my mother said at once, absolute certainty in her tone. She gave Jack’s shoulder a pat. He released her and stepped away. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, but if he had ceased to breathe, I believe that I would know.”
“All right, we’ll take it as a given that he’s still alive,” I said. “Alive and in control. He must have friends.”
Jack made a rude sound.
“Okay, perhaps not friends,” I said. “But surely he has allies. People he feels he can count on if trouble arrives. We have no one. We don’t know anyone. We don’t know what’s going on.”
“Then that’s our plan right there,” Jack said, his tone triumphant. “One of us must go to the World Above, first to gather information about the current state of affairs, second to see if anyone might be persuaded to join our cause. It can be—what do you call it—a reconnaissance mission.”
“You mean you’d be going,” I said.
“So what if I do?” Jack countered. “I found the beans, didn’t I? I was the one who saw the chance and took it. You’d never have done that in a million years. You wouldn’t have given that old woman the time of day. Oh, you’d have been polite. No doubt about that. But you wouldn’t have listened. You wouldn’t have wanted to listen. You’d have kept right on going, and our chance to return to the World Above would have been lost.”
“Why must you always try to put me in the wrong?” I asked. “Just because I don’t see what’s so bad about the World Below?”
“I’m not trying to put you in the wrong,” Jack said. “I’m trying to make a point.”
“What?”
Jack dragged frustrated fingers through his hair. “You just said it yourself: You don’t see what’s so bad about the World Below. For the record, I never said anything was. But here�
�s the difference between us, Gen. You don’t see what might be special about the World Above. You don’t want to. You never even really believed it was real until now.
“That’s why I should be the one to go. Because I want to. Because I’ve always wanted to. Because I believe in the World Above.”
“Okay,” I said, trying to ignore the way his words stung. “Let’s say you’re right. I have a point too, Jack, and it’s just as good as any of yours. All you can do is gather information and come right back home. Nothing more. No getting distracted. No adventures. There’s too much at stake.”
Jack’s face flushed. “I know what’s at stake,” he said. “Stop treating me like a child.”
“Enough!” my mother finally cried, silencing us. “Both of you make good points. I agree with Jack. He is the right one to go. But I also agree with Gen. You must proceed with caution, my son.”
She stepped forward and laid a hand on each of our shoulders. “This opportunity will be a challenge for both of you,” she said. “Though for different reasons. For you, Jack, perhaps because you want it too much. And for you, Gen, because you want it too little. Your heart is so tied to the World Below.”
“What’s so wrong about that?” I asked, my voice small, even to my own ears.
“Only this,” my mother replied. “It may be your place of birth, but it is not your true home, my Gen. That place must be the World Above. The World Above is the keeper of your past. Until you have seen it for yourself, you cannot know where your future lies.”
“And in the present,” Jack broke in, “there is still the small matter of growing a magic beanstalk.”
My mother laughed suddenly, the sound as bright and clear as the light on a summer morning. She caught us close to her in a hug.
“My children, my children, what am I going to do with you?” she inquired with a smile. “One wants to drag her feet, while the other can’t wait to fly.”
She released us, and we all took a step back.
“Well, Gen? What do you think? What plan shall we make to satisfy Jack’s desire to grow a magic beanstalk?”
“I think you mean giant magic beanstalk,” I said. “Which means we should call as little attention to it as possible.”
“You can’t be serious,” Jack protested.
“I’m absolutely serious,” I said. “You have to wait for nightfall.”
Jack tossed the first bean over his shoulder just as the moon began to rise. After additional discussion, it had been decided that the cornfield was the perfect place to grow a magic beanstalk.
The field was tucked between two of the many hills surrounding our farm. This would make the beanstalk difficult to see from a distance, and if someone did notice that one stalk in the cornfield seemed a bit taller than the rest, well, what of it? With the breeze moving through the field, causing the cornstalks to sway and dance, anything different could be dismissed as nothing more than a trick of the light.
It is difficult to get people in the World Below to see what they don’t expect to see. Mama has remarked on this more than once. Even I have to admit it’s true. Now we would make this fact work for our cause.
And so, just as the pale face of the moon peered up over the horizon, Jack and I walked to the cornfield while Mama stayed in the house. I think both Jack and I were surprised that Mama didn’t come along. But she’d instructed us to go together. So that’s what we did, traversing the distance between the house and the cornfield in absolute silence. At the edge of the field, Jack paused, then turned his back to the rows of corn.
“Count for me, will you?” he asked. He gave a sudden, sheepish grin. “I know it’s only to three, but I’m terrified I’m going to get it wrong, somehow.”
For once I didn’t tease him. Probably because I knew exactly how he felt.
“On three, then,” I said.
Jack nodded.
“One. Two. Three.”
With one quick, smooth motion, Jack tossed the bean over his left shoulder.
I swore I saw it flying through the air, a tiny white speck tumbling end over end against the darkened sky. But in the interests of truth, I must admit that I might have made this up. It could have been a trick of the light combined with my own desire. As Jack let the bean fly, the wind came up, causing the cornstalks to rustle and sway, almost as if they were conversing with one another.
Jack stood for a moment, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. I saw his chest heave and realized he was breathing hard, as if he’d run a race and put on a final burst of speed to reach the finish line.
“Don’t do it, Jack,” I said suddenly. “Don’t turn around.”
For Mama had said that it was important to let magic run its own course. Trying to influence it could spell disaster. For this reason, Jack must not look back. He must not watch to see where the bean had fallen. I could do so, Mama said, as I was not the one who would be climbing the beanstalk.
“I know,” Jack said. “I know.”
I moved to his side and took him by the arm. He was quivering, his whole body vibrating like one of the plucked strings on my harp.
“Let’s go in,” I said softly. “We’ll come back at first light.”
Jack reached out to grasp me by both elbows. “It’s happening, Gen. It’s really happening. I’m going to go to the World Above.”
“You’re going to go to the World Above,” I said. “Always assuming some crow didn’t get to that bean as soon as it hit the ground.”
Jack gave a sudden laugh. I felt the tension leave his body.
“Good old Gen,” he said. “Always trying to make sure I don’t get too far ahead of myself.”
“Self-defense,” I said. “Slowing you down’s the only way I can keep up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jack said. He pulled me forward into a fierce hug. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I said as I hugged him back. We stepped apart and I put my hands on Jack’s shoulders, the better to peer up into his face.
“Jack, you will be careful, won’t you?”
“Of course I’ll be careful,” he said. Then he made a face. “At least I’ll try. But you heard Mama, Gen. Ultimately, we are going back to reclaim what Guy de Trabant stole from us. Sooner or later, there are bound to be some risks involved.”
He broke free of my hold to take a few steps away. Jack literally thinks best on his feet, preferably when he’s using them to go somewhere.
“I just wish I could figure out a way to prove who I am—who we are,” he went on. “I don’t want people to think I’m just another usurper.”
I hesitated a moment. “I’ve been thinking about that too,” I acknowledged.
Jack spun back around. Before I realized what he intended, he caught me up in his arms, twirling me around.
“You’ve got a plan, don’t you?” he cried. “I knew it. I knew I could count on you. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”
“No, I don’t have a plan.” I gasped, clinging to his shoulders as air filled my skirts like a bell. “Not a full-fledged one, anyhow. It’s just an idea, Jack. Now put me down.”
“Full-fledged?” Jack echoed with a laugh. But at least he set me down. “Who in the World Below says stuff like that?”
“Clearly,” I said as I did my best to smooth my hair and skirts, “only someone who comes from the World Above. And it was never my intention to let you down. I don’t know why you have to say a thing like that.”
Jack sobered. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“You’re Mama’s favorite,” I told him, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “We both know it’s true, so don’t bother to deny it. It’s because of the way I feel about the World Below. But I’m just as much a part of this family as you are, Jack. I’d never let you down.”
I began to stomp my way back to the house.
“Gen, wait,” Jack said. I heard the quick sound of his feet. “I didn’t mean it l
ike that. You’re making too much of it. How come we’ve spent the whole day fighting? I don’t want us to.”
“I don’t want us to fight either,” I said. I stopped walking as the extent of the truth of this struck me.
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to come home safe,” I said.
“I want that too,” Jack said. “But what if home turns out to be the World Above?”
“It doesn’t make a difference,” I said. “I just want you to be safe, that’s all. I don’t want you to end up sacrificed to Guy de Trabant’s ambition like our father was.”
Or your own ambition, for that matter, I thought.
“I’ll be careful. I swear I will,” Jack vowed. “Just say you’ll do one thing for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, Jack,” I said. And I meant it with all my heart.
That was the moment I felt it. I can’t explain how. I felt the magic take root and the beanstalk begin to grow.
“You know,” Jack said as he slung an arm around my shoulders, “we make a pretty good team, whether you like to admit it or not. You provide the plan; I provide the quick thinking if anything goes wrong.”
I gave a snort. “Which it almost always does. Could that be because you change the plan the minute it’s made? Wait a minute. Yes, I do believe that could account for it.”
Jack gave my shoulders a quick, hard squeeze. “Cut it out.”
“If you’re trying to ask me whether or not I’ve been figuring out a way for you to prove who you really are, the answer is yes,” I said. “It has to do with our family’s coat of arms. . . .”
FIVE
Jack and I talked well into the night, whispering with our heads together and our bodies stretched out in opposite directions on the soft braided rug. We’d often done this when we were small, on winter nights when the warmest place to sleep was in front of the fire. Just as the sun came up, Jack shook me awake.
The World Above Page 3