by James Riley
Like never seeing May again.
Stop it stop it stop it.
The beanstalk jumped suddenly, and Jack’s feet lost their hold, the shoots around his wrist the only thing keeping him from falling right off. His stomach dropped past his toes, and he frantically grabbed for something, but the shoot he managed to reach just ripped off in his hand. Meanwhile, the shoots holding his other wrist sounded like they were ripping out by the roots.
And then, for no reason he could think of, his heart quieted down, and he stopped breathing in quite so quickly. Instead, he closed his eyes, then reopened them. He gently swung himself away from the main beanstalk, hanging out over a whole lot of nothing, then let his momentum carry him back toward the stalk, just close enough for him to reach it with his legs, just close enough for him to kick off . . . assuming the shoot would hold.
What other choice did he have?
Jack kicked off, and out he swung, out over the path the last beanstalk had fallen, the destruction it left behind clearly visible from this height. He began to turn back around, to swing back toward the main stalk, only to have the shoots holding his wrist groan, then rip. Off Jack fell—
Only to slam against the main stalk, just a few feet lower. His swing had barely worked, but barely was still good enough.
And yet he still wasn’t breathing hard, and his heart still wasn’t racing. On his back, he could almost feel his sword glowing, but he hadn’t slowed time down or done any of the other tricks he’d been taught by Captain Thomas.
Well, unless you called staying calm a trick. Which, in a lot of ways, it was.
Jack worked both his hands and feet into shoots this time, securing himself much more safely as the tip of the beanstalk continued to push up against the lowest cloud. Apparently it had hit and caused the rumbling that still threatened to knock Jack off the stalk at any moment. And even more apparently, the clouds turned out to be floating rocks, or something just as hard, as the beanstalk was having as much trouble with this cloud as it had the base of Malevolent’s castle.
Jack shook his head, not sure why he hadn’t figured that out before. If a giant could live in a castle in the clouds, how could the clouds NOT be floating rocks? What else would hold a castle up? It was just logic, really, something he honestly should try relying on more often.
And then, something odd happened. A crack appeared in the rocks, right about where the beanstalk was pushing up through. The crack grew bigger, then suddenly exploded open, and a hand as big as a house reached down through the white rock to grab the beanstalk like a weed.
The hand yanked abruptly, and suddenly the entire beanstalk was rising up and through the hole, dangling before a man the size of a mountain.
“Well well,” the giant said, his breath blasting against Jack like a unpleasantly stinky wind. “Look what we have here. Another little thief, trying the same trick as the first one. Never repeat, little thief. It will always get you caught.” He pulled Jack off the beanstalk and raised him to eye level.
“Oh, right,” Jack said. “Good advice. I guess.”
“Well, down you go,” the giant said, tossing the beanstalk away like a weed, then dangling Jack over the very empty hole, a lot of very empty air, and some very hard ground. But before he let go, the giant paused, then sniffed in, the vacuum of his nose pulling Jack closer with each inhale. The giant’s eyes widened, and he stared at Jack.
“Your blood,” he said. “It smells just like that last thief, the one that I never caught!”
Giants could smell blood? That might have been good to know.
CHAPTER 18
Weirdly, Penelope was the first to act. The princess stood up, her eyes back to their usual half-mast, and curtsied to the Wicked Queen.
Then, as she stood back up, she threw something small and sharp right at the Queen.
The whatever-it-was stopped right in midair, just inches in front of the Queen’s forehead.
“You must be Penelope,” the Queen said, and the object snapped in half. “I appreciate the effort, my dear, but we can’t have you trying such things again.” She glanced over Penelope’s shoulder, and three goblins moved to grab the princess and drag her off, Penelope silent the entire time.
“If you hurt her—” Phillip started to say, but the Queen just held up a hand.
“Oh, Phillip, we really don’t have time right now for your inane little threats. Do be a nice boy and keep that mouth shut, please.”
And just like that, Phillip’s mouth slammed shut. He clawed at his lips with his fingers but couldn’t open it even a tiny bit.
“And you, my darling little month of May,” the Queen said, turning to May finally, looking her over. “You’ve grown, haven’t you?”
“People do that,” May said, her hand on the glass ball in her pocket. And then the image of Penelope’s splinter stopping in midair flew through her head, and she let go of it, then took her hand out of her pocket, deliberately keeping any thought of the Fairest out of her mind. She couldn’t do anything, not now. Not yet.
The Queen smiled. “Oh, my darling, there was never anything you could have done.
“This isn’t you,” May said, not trusting herself to say much else. Too many other things kept bubbling up. Most of them would get her killed.
“It isn’t?” The Queen pretended to be confused.
“It’s not. This isn’t . . . you aren’t the woman . . . who raised me.” She took a deep breath, desperately trying to keep herself calm.
Beside her, Phillip groaned, falling to his knees, pushed by an invisible force. Almost robotically, he bent over and kissed the Queen’s foot, then stayed bowing low to her.
“You really should follow your friend’s example here and address me with more respect, May,” the Queen said softly. She looked past May, and more goblins came for Phillip. The prince caught May’s eye, and he shook his head violently.
The message was clear and was the same one that she couldn’t stop repeating in her head.
Unfortunately, May’s heartbeat was so loud in her ears she almost couldn’t hear anything else.
Who was this monster who would do that to another human being?!
“You seem . . . upset,” the Queen said, stepping closer to touch May’s cheek. May jerked her head away, and the Queen’s eyes narrowed. “You would do well to not disobey me right now, May. We aren’t talking about some simple grounding for a bad grade or you dyeing your hair. Not anymore. My punishments now are far, far worse.”
“Don’t . . . please don’t hurt them,” May said through clenched teeth. Her entire head seemed to be beating in time with her heart. “I’ll come with you, I’ll do what you want, but please don’t hurt either of them.”
The Queen paused, then moved in close, just inches from May’s face. “One will betray you, May, and the other will die for you. You know that’s going to happen, and I don’t think I’m spoiling anything by saying that time will be here very, very soon. So I can’t very well agree to anything of the sort, now can I?”
May didn’t see the look this time, but goblins grabbed her arms and legs and carried her away as the Queen turned and walked calmly back toward the portal. May watched her go, her hands clenched into fists, until a goblin pulled some sort of hood over her head, and everything went dark.
Hours passed, or maybe just very long minutes. It was hard to tell what was going on while being carried. They didn’t even bother tying her hands and feet together, just carried her by her limbs so that she had no leverage at all to escape. Not that she didn’t try, but it wasn’t anything like when the dwarfs had taken her. Now, she knew that if she did get away, she might be leaving Penelope and Phillip behind. And who knew what would happen to both of them without her there.
This was why they were supposed to stay away from her! She couldn’t do this if other people might get hurt too!
The sizzle of the portal came and went, and May heard goblin feet slapping on stone. They carried her up and down stairs, ever
ything silent besides the occasional muttering here or there by the goblins, mostly complaining about having to carry her so far.
Finally, they tossed her into the air, and she shouted in surprise, only to land on something fairly soft. One of the goblins yanked the hood off, and she quickly looked down, hoping it wasn’t anything horrible, only to find an enormous bed sculpted from gold.
“Sleep tight, Princess,” the goblin said with a creepy smile, then pushed the other monsters out the door and slammed it shut behind him. She heard one lock, then another, and a third. They weren’t taking any chances.
Not only was she alone in the room, but so was the bed, apart from one lone chair. Bars covered a large window that looked out into darkness, and May couldn’t be sure if it was still night, or if there just wasn’t anything to see. For all she knew, she was in some other dimension without a sun. Or maybe it had an evil sun, one that sucked the light out of the world. And maybe the full moon turned wolves into people, instead of the other way around.
That’s it, distract yourself. Don’t think about what’s waiting for you outside the door and what’s coming . . . soon, if the Queen could be believed. And why would she lie?
Someone knocked on her door. All three locks turned, and May quickly went to hide behind the door, ready to surprise whoever entered.
She ended up almost punching Penelope, who stumbled into the room like she’d been pushed. The princess looked around, holding something folded and clothing-looking in her arms.
“Hello?” Penelope said as the door slammed shut behind her, the locks turning again.
May tapped her on the shoulder, and Penelope whirled around and punched her.
“OW!” May shouted. “It’s me!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Penelope said. “You, well, you surprised me!”
“I SEE THAT!” Her cheek throbbed where the girl had hit her, and her jaw felt sore. Not exactly what she needed right now. “Is that all you came in to do, hit me?”
Penelope shook her head. “I actually didn’t intend to do that at all.”
“Shocking.”
“If you say so.” She held out the fabric in her hands, which May could now see were two dresses that looked like they cost more than her friends’ families back home made in a year. “They told me that we had to get dressed up to officially appear before the Queen.”
May took one of the dresses, a shimmering blue that she knew was meant for her. It looked like every drawing of Cinderella’s dress she’d ever seen. “What does that mean, appear before her?”
“Well,” Penelope said, “from what the guard said, it sounds as if she intends us to declare our loyalty to her in front of her subjects, and if we don’t, we’ll be sentenced to death.” As all the color drained out of May’s face, Penelope leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, if this all comes down to the fact that I tried to stab her with a cursed spindle splinter, I am going to be pretty annoyed!”
CHAPTER 19
Jack hung upside down over a boiling pot, swaying in the breeze. Most castles didn’t have much of a breeze going inside, but this one was probably big enough to have its own clouds. Which probably had their own castles.
Beside him, the giant hummed softly to himself as he sliced carrots, each one bigger than Jack’s house, then tossed the slices into the pot.
“I’ve been meaning to try this recipe,” the giant told him. “You wouldn’t believe where I found it. You don’t see many human stew recipes. Well, not anymore.” He chuckled, and the force of it sent Jack swaying even harder.
“You don’t need to eat me,” Jack told him, just in case that was unclear.
“Now why would I waste such a bold opportunity by not doing just that?” the giant asked him, pausing in his slicing. “Have you ever eaten human?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
The giant shook his head, making mmming noises. “You might be small, but you’re like a fine spice. Add just a bit to a stew like this, and the whole thing is just . . . like an explosion in your mouth.”
Jack nodded upside down. “Okay, that’s fair. We all go for different things. I like sweet stuff. You like explosions. But you know what would taste better—”
“Nope,” the giant said. “None of that, now. I’m not some backward land giant, lad. Poor fellows down there. Too much air, I think. Goes straight to their heads.” He tapped his forehead. “Up here, things are a bit thinner, and that’s the way I like it. Last time I went down there . . . well, I don’t remember all of it, but you wouldn’t believe the headache I had the next day.”
“You go down to the land a lot, then?”
“Last time was your . . . father?” the giant said, raising an eyebrow. “Brother? It’s so hard to tell with you things, you all look alike to me. If you weren’t so flavorful, and maybe didn’t steal so many of my things, I’d just let you scurry on your merry way, smushing you underfoot as needed to keep you from infesting the place.”
“We’re not exactly ants.”
“All depends on your height, I suppose.” He looked up for a moment. “I feel as if I’ve seen pictures of ants, haven’t I?” He shuddered. “So many legs. How you can ride those things I’ll never know.”
“I wouldn’t look down, then, because there are like four of them right below you.”
The giant jumped, and the entire building shook. He quickly realized that the floor was antless, then shook his finger at Jack, chuckling a bit. “Got me with that one! If you keep it up, you’ll go in the pot straightaway, and I’ll just deal with the slight chewiness you people get when you’ve been cooked too long.”
Jack swung back and forth in silence a bit, then decided that he’d probably never have a better time to ask. “It was my father, by the way,” he said. “I heard he stole a goose from you.”
“That he did,” the giant said, and his chopping became a bit louder, each knife stroke biting into the table just a bit deeper. “Never found that goose, either.”
“Or my father, I take it.”
“No, though as I said, it’s a bit foggy.” The giant dumped the remaining carrots into the stew, then began to slice up something enormous and green that confused Jack until he realized it was a tree. “I know I chased him and almost had him, but some other little man got in the way. Had this whole trap worked out, this other human did. Almost got me.”
“This other man . . . what happened to him?”
“Him I got,” the giant said, and smiled at Jack.
Phillip’s father. Not the news Jack had been hoping for, but not exactly a surprise, either.
“You know, if you let me go, I could take you to the thief,” Jack told the giant, picturing the monster attacking the Wicked Queen’s castle, taking out half her army.
“Oh, I know where he is,” the giant said, dropping sliced tree trunk into the stew, then stirring it around. “Or at least where he’s going to be.”
“You . . . what?”
“Won’t be any of your concern, though, will it?” The giant patted his stomach. “Not unless you stick around for long enough to give me indigestion!”
“How do you know where he is? I thought you couldn’t find him.”
The giant smiled. “Now, that seems like the sort of question I don’t have to answer, given that I’m the one cooking you and not the other way around. Can I get you anything to eat while you wait? This recipe calls for one of those tiny chickens to be baked, then swallowed by you. Adds flavor.”
Jack shook his head. “Thanks, but I can’t say that I’m very hungry.”
The giant raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t want to use that as an opportunity to escape?”
“Would it have worked?”
“Of course not. But I like that you’ve resigned yourself. No need to get all gamey from running around willy-nilly.”
“I do what I can.”
Something tugged at his hands, then stopped. He pointed up at his feet and soon felt something tug there, too. He quickly grabbed a
hold of the rope with both hands and crossed his legs around the rope above where he was tied.
“I just feel like an inconsiderate host, you not eating and all,” the giant said. “But I won’t force it down your throat.” He held up his enormous hands. “You’re far too small for that. I’m sure I’d just end up smearing it all over your face.”
“You’re very considerate, but honestly, I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself.” The giant stuck a ladle into the soup, then blew on it and gently tasted it. “This seems about ready. You seem like a decent fellow for a human, even if you are descended from the most vile creature ever to walk the land.”
“You’d be surprised how many times I’ve heard that.”
The giant laughed. “One last question before you go. What exactly did you come up here for? Seems like it’d have been far safer to stay hidden away, what with smelling exactly like the thief and all.”
Jack shrugged, which must have looked odd upside down. “Oh, I was here to steal a harp from you.”
The giant paused, then reached up around his neck and pulled a chain out. “This?” he said, dangling something golden in front of Jack at the end of the chain.
Jack just sighed, shaking his head.
“Kept it safe by my heart, ever since your father tried to get it,” the giant said with a grin, setting the harp down on the table next to him. “You know, for safety.”
“Looks like you were smart to do it,” Jack pointed out.
The giant laughed. “That I was. Well, enough talk. In you go!” And with that, he grabbed the rope holding Jack suspended above the stew and yanked. The rope snapped, and Jack went tumbling straight into the pot.
CHAPTER 20
May looked at herself in the window, the night pitch-black behind it. Her dress shimmered as she turned, almost like magic. It was probably the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and wearing it, she imagined that all the stars in the sky had looked down at her and thrown up all over her.