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
I t’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.
“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
I t’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.
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