by James Riley
“I didn’t think I was.” Jack turned around, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he found the Charmed One alone. “I’m sorry about that. I’d thought I’d figured out how not to dream about her anymore.”
“There are always setbacks in such things,” the knight told him. “I often dream of Snow, though I welcome the sight of her.”
“Yeah, we’re different people,” Jack told him. “But that’s not why I’m here. I finished my training, and the Queen has one last test for me. I’m supposed to steal something from the same giant that my father robbed.”
The knight raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
Jack waited, then shook his head. “Forget it, there’s no time to go into all that. But I’m afraid this is going to push things back.”
“You didn’t mention anything about what you plan to Jill—”
“Nope. Not her or my father. I couldn’t be sure who was listening.”
“You can be sure who was.”
“Anyway, Gwentell is back,” Jack said. “I haven’t asked her about the raven yet, but unless I’m wrong about everything, the plan goes forward. Though I’d still argue that it’s a bird, and there have to be more reliable sources of information than something that runs into windows by accident.”
“If only,” the Charmed One said, turning to look away from Jack. “But you’re not wrong. I have seen the object you’re looking for. I was shown it by someone with much the same goals as you have. If Gwentell confirms everything, you should move forward as quickly as possible.”
“I will,” Jack told him. “By the way, that suggestion to use Gwentell was smart. Thank you.”
“The sword of an Eye grants you knowledge beyond that of the natural world,” the knight said. “Communicating with magical creatures is something few Eyes realize they can do and even fewer know how to take advantage of.”
“I would have been okay taking less advantage of that, actually. She’s not so thrilled with me usually.”
“You don’t know her as well as you might think you do,” the Charmed One said. “She has watched over for you since the beginning and so far has managed to keep you alive.”
“Keep me alive?!” Jack said, giving the knight his most incredulous look. It wasn’t enough, but he tried. “By insulting me every time she opens her mouth? Was I dying of not being called stupid enough times a day?”
“Humility can be a virtue,” the knight said, the corners of his mouth rising just a little. Jack noticed—and noted—it. He’d get the Charmed One back for that, even if the man didn’t necessarily exist anymore. “But yes. Under my request, she has watched over you and served you where she could.”
“Big help she was in the Fairy Homelands,” Jack said. “She slept through the whole thing!”
“And gave you warning of the curse, if you remember.”
Jack coughed, covering his blush. She had given him about two seconds of warning before Jack had hit the curse himself. Whoops. “Yeah, well, good for her. Anyway, back to this giant thing.” He sighed.
“The Queen does this to you on purpose,” the knight said. “She knows how you feel about your father and his actions. She wishes to see how far you’ll go for what you want, if you’ll become the man you have always hated.”
“She could have just asked.”
“This way, she gets something out of it.” The Charmed One paused. “She must be preparing for something. What was it that she needs?”
“Some singing harp . . . I know.”
The Charmed One gasped, which didn’t help Jack’s feelings on anything. “The harp?! We have even less time than I thought. She will put her plans into motion the moment she has that, Jack. There’s no more time. You must be ready the moment you return.”
“Good, it wouldn’t be right if there weren’t some world-ending pressure.” Jack shrugged. “Aren’t I just making things worse, though, if I give her this thing?”
“She won’t go through with your request to leave this world if you don’t,” the knight told him. “You have no choice. But be wary. She will use the harp for horrible purposes.”
Jack sighed again. “I really hope I’m not wrong about all this.”
“The Story Book is your proof,” the knight reminded him.
“Right,” Jack said. “A magic book that may or may not be reliable anyway. How could it go wrong?”
The Charmed One chuckled. “You have to have faith at some point, Jack.” He started to reach out a hand, then dropped it quickly. “Now, before you leave, what is your plan for the giant?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Jack said. “I got advice from an expert.” And with that, he pushed himself out of the dream just as he had pushed out the fake dream-May. He really didn’t want her showing up out of nowhere again . . . it was humiliating for her to just appear when the Charmed One was walking him through a training exercise.
His eyes opened to two beady little golden eyes staring at him.
“Finally,” Gwentell said. “Could you be any lazier, stupid man-child?”
Jack blew out as hard as she could, sending the fairy flying off his face. Then he spit and spit again. “Were you stepping in my mouth?!”
“You should see what I stepped in before that,” the fairy said, sticking out her tongue.
“You are evil!”
“You are stupid!”
Jack frantically scraped at his tongue, trying desperately to get the taste of something horrible out of his mouth. “Did you find the bird?” he asked, or tried to, around his fingers.
“Didn’t I say I would?” the fairy asked. “Yes, I found it. How could I not, when you gave such explicit instructions? ‘Find me a black bird. How many can there be?’”
“I was a bit more detailed than that,” Jack said a bit defensively.
“You failed to mention that it’s the same bird that has been following us since we first met,” the fairy said, shaking her head.
“Wait, what?”
“How did you not see it?!” the fairy said, stamping her foot angrily. “I kept pointing it out when I first decided to protect you!”
“When you first decided—I couldn’t understand you then!”
“Your stupidity is always your excuse, isn’t it, man-child?”
“You knew the Wicked Queen was watching us, even back then, and you didn’t say anything?!”
“I believe I just told you that I said many things—”
“Forget it!” Jack shouted. “So, what did the bird have to say?”
The fairy gave him a look. “Birds do not speak, man-child. I feel as if you should have known that.”
“What did it caw, then?”
The fairy paused, then handed him a tiny folded-up piece of paper. “It confirmed your . . . idea. Congratulations. Now what does that mean?”
Jack took the paper and gave her a sweet smile. “Sorry, can’t tell you. You’re far too talkative, and we can’t risk anyone hearing. Did you make sure the bird’s tied up or something? Can’t have it getting back to the Queen.”
The fairy nodded, giving him a dark look, then said something low and hostile that Jack couldn’t hear.
“Right back at you,” he told her. “Now, I have to go become everything I hate by stealing something from a giant, potentially dooming the world and everyone I know. Do you want to come or not?”
“The possibility of a giant squishing you?” the fairy said. “I would not miss it!”
A knock at the door forced Jack to throw open the window and toss her out, causing some horrible shrieking and shouting of words that Jack would rather not have understood. He opened the door, only to find no one there.
At least, no one at eye level.
“Final test, eh?” Captain Thomas said, striding into the room. “And a fine adventure it is. You won’t make it back, but that can happen.”
“Well,” Jack said, “I really have enjoyed our time together, even if it’s getting cut shor
t.”
And then he quickly excused himself, the tiny man’s glare burning into him, probably somewhere around his ankles.
CHAPTER 16
This is why I told you to leave me alone, Phillip,” May whispered through clenched teeth.
The prince and Penelope sat next to her, all chained together and seated around a fire on the beach beneath Malevolent’s castle, armed goblins in a circle around them. The wolf, meanwhile, hadn’t come near them yet. Apparently he was off checking on their ride home, back to the Wicked Queen.
“You were in danger, Princess,” Phillip said. “I had to rescue you.”
She wanted to yell at him, tell him he’d made things worse, but he just looked so concerned, she couldn’t. She couldn’t do that to him. It’d be like taking away his entire reason for being.
Phillip turned to Penelope and offered her some of the dirt-covered bread the goblins had tossed their way. Penelope looked at the bread, then at him. “Okay, Phillip, we need to talk.”
Phillip looked at her blankly, still holding the bread between them. She looked at him, then at the bread, then took it out of his hand and put it back on the ground. May tried to stop her, then gave up; it’s not like the bread could get any dirtier.
“I get that this is what you do,” Penelope said, gesturing around at herself and May, absently dragging Phillip’s chained hand along with her. “You rescue princesses. I get that. And on some level, it’s sweet. But on a lot of other levels, it’s ridiculous.”
“Sorry?” Phillip said.
“Don’t apologize yet, I’m not done,” Penelope said. “May, feel free to jump in here.”
“I’m . . . okay with you handling this for now,” May told her, having no idea where she was going.
“Up on the roof,” Penelope told Phillip, gesturing up to the top of the castle above them, “you tried to protect me. But you were the one who needed protecting. I had a plan, Phillip. I had magic. You . . . you’ve got a sword.”
Phillip sat up straight, his eyes flashing angrily. “I have killed more giants than—”
“Shh,” Penelope said, and touched his mouth with her finger. “I don’t care. What I care about is that you almost got yourself killed because I thought you had to. Because the Wicked Queen told you that you were going to die. Does she seem like someone any of us should be listening to?”
“But the Mirror—” Phillip said.
“I’m not sure what mirrors have to do with this,” Penelope told him, “but last I remember, they’re for seeing if you have anything in your teeth after eating. Try to stay on topic here, Phillip. I don’t want to have to worry about you next time.”
“Worry about me?!” Phillip said, and one of the goblins chuckled.
“See?” Penelope said, pointing at the goblin. “He’s with me.”
“He is a monster!”
“HEY!” the goblin shouted. “You’re the ugly one, human!”
Penelope bobbed her head from side to side. “Okay, that’s an interesting point about culture, but that’s not really our focus right now. You need to understand that we can handle ourselves, both of us. Yes, May needed help—”
“Yeah, you were a huge help, getting me caught by the wolf!” May yelled.
“But that doesn’t mean that you need to go running in, swording everything in sight, only to get smacked around by a dragon.”
“Or getting us caught by the wolf!” May added again.
Phillip just gave her a look of confused horror.
Penelope patted his leg. “I get it. You mean well. And you did save me, back in the Fairy Homelands. But let’s be honest . . . you were born for that. I’m your true love, and that’s all that was important for that spell. So yes, you heroed just fine there. But that’s not who you’re meant to be.”
“And who . . . exactly . . . am I meant to be?” Phillip said carefully.
“I hope it’s someone who uses contractions,” May said quietly.
“You’re meant to be king someday!” Penelope said, getting the closest to annoyed that May had ever seen her. “You have a responsibility to your people, Phillip. Take care of them. Be a great leader, a noble one . . . that’s what they need. They don’t need you getting eaten by any old dragon that happens along just because some window says so!”
“Mirror,” May pointed out.
“It’s all glass,” Penelope said with a shrug.
Phillip opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and went silent.
Penelope patted his shoulder, then turned to May. “So what were you doing there, anyway, May?”
“Turns out, a whole lot of nothing,” May told her. “I . . . well, I asked Malevolent for help in defeating the Queen.”
“You WHAT?!” Philip shouted, and the goblins all began to laugh.
“And then you had to go and dragon-slay her before I got the rest of her plan!” May shouted back.
“You asked Malevolent for HELP?!” Phillip said.
“She just said that,” Penelope told him. “Weren’t you listening?”
Phillip turned to Penelope. “YOU hated her more than I did! Why are you not upset by that?”
Penelope shrugged. “I did what I needed to. She got what she deserved, but that’s over now. Why hold on to it? Besides, if she was helping May, maybe she was trying to make up for some of her past.”
“She wasn’t,” May told her. “It took a lot of bargaining. Most of which involved having you two never come anywhere near her.”
“Oh,” Penelope said. “Whoops.”
Phillip looked between them, his mouth hanging open, as the Wolf King approached. “While I’m all for this pleasant reunion,” he told them, “the Queen is opening a portal for us now.”
And then the entire beach lit up in blue crackling lightning, and a tall, beautiful woman stepped out into the darkness. “Children,” the Wicked Queen said with a smile. “So lovely to see you again.”
CHAPTER 17
It’d been twelve years since Jack’s father had planted the Wicked Queen’s beans on this land. At some point, the beanstalk had collapsed, the magic apparently just getting used up, but in that time, a lot of the remaining beanstalk had been reabsorbed by the forest or cut for fires by the local villagers. Well, at least the villagers who hadn’t had their houses cave in from the toppling plant: Here or there, you could see the outline of where the beanstalk had hit, in that there was a specific lack of houses there now.
Then there was the enormous chasm shaped like two giant feet about a hundred feet past the base of where the beanstalk had been. There were even fewer houses there. A lake had sprung up in a few places from the footsteps where the giant chased Jack’s father into the distance, but the initial hit, where the giant had landed . . . that was far too deep. Nothing would grow there.
And here was Jack, growing another beanstalk. Add that to the list of things he’d owe people for later. If there was a later.
The ground rumbled a bit as the first sprout broke through the dirt and began to rise toward the sky. Though the day was cloudy (made sense, given there was an entire castle in the clouds above him), at least it wasn’t as dark as the last time he’d done this. That night hadn’t been Jack’s favorite memory, the beanstalk rising toward Malevolent’s castle, with Phillip and . . .
And, well, whoever else might have been there. Stop it. Stop thinking about things that aren’t supposed to be thought about!
To distract himself, he pulled out his sword and the potion Jill had gotten for him, then poured it over the glass-like blade. The sword glowed oddly as the potion soaked in to the weapon, absorbing right into the blade. Huh, it worked. Hopefully.
The potion now empty, he put the bottle back in his pocket, replaced his sword on his back, then pulled out his grandfather’s Story Book. He quickly flipped through it, reading the specific pages that held everything he needed to know. No one knew all of his plan, other than the Charmed One, who didn’t approve but agreed that there was no
other choice. He’d come up with it while traveling to the Wicked Queen’s castle with Jill, trying to ignore his sister during the long trip by reading through the Story Book just like he was now. And a few pages seemed to keep jumping out at him.
And that’s when he saw it and realized what it might be. Now that Gwentell had confirmed things from the Queen’s raven—he smacked the fairy awake so she’d be ready, and she smacked him right back—he knew that this was the right plan. There was no turning back. The moment he arrived with the harp, that was it.
The first sprout now crept higher than the trees, and just like last time, Jack figured it was easier to rise with the magic than to climb. Did his father climb it? The man had planted the beans at night and woken the next morning to find it there, so Jack supposed he had. That couldn’t have been fun, especially considering that the whole way he must have been thinking about his wife, Jack’s mother.
Before the Wicked Queen killed her.
Stop it.
Jack stepped into a loop on the beanstalk, grabbed another shoot, and wrapped it around his wrist to make sure he didn’t get knocked off if the stalk hit anything hard, like clouds. What were clouds made of, anyway? Would he hit one and bounce off? They looked pretty bouncy. Maybe that was something he should have talked to his father about. That, and why the man never came back for Jack yet let his daughter serve the woman who killed their mother and kept their father in prison, using her as what, bait? A secret weapon? Or was it more just that he couldn’t stop Jill when she had the chance to strike back?
That thought led Jack to think about Phillip, safe somewhere on his throne, probably having servants feed him grapes carefully sliced into perfect likenesses of the prince’s face. Would he be thinking about his part of the Queen’s prophecy? Or what about Malevolent, who said that the prince would eventually cause her death?
Yeah, right. If that happened, it wouldn’t be for, like, decades.
Jack was high enough now to see over the trees, and he swallowed hard. He was already higher than he’d been last time he’d been on the beanstalk and was quickly approaching the height he’d once reached on a witch’s broomstick. Had that really only been half a year ago? So much had changed.