Secret of the Giants' Staircase by Amy Lynn Green Page A

cart, a melon patch and a huge, hairy spider that Owen let crawl over his arm before Jesse made him kill it.
    Finally, they stopped for a break under the dead tree at the center of the city. Jesse sat down underneath its towering branches, wishing the answer would just fall from the sky.
    Why can’t we find them? He sighed loudly. Maybe we should wait here until nightfall, then shout and wave our arms around so we’ll get taken too .
    â€œI’m thirsty,” Owen moaned, plopping down beside him. It was the latest in a long string of complaints, which also included hunger, boredom, soreness and an allergy to old, crumbling buildings.
    â€œWe can go down the hill and drink some swamp water,” Jesse suggested wearily, closing his eyes.
    â€œNo,” Owen said, shaking his head. “There’s a well in the courtyard. We refilled our canteens there before.” He sprang up and Jesse limped after him, wondering at how Owen never seemed to run out of energy, no matter how much he complained about being tired.
    Once inside the walls, Jesse realized he had been in the courtyard before. It was the one with the phases-of-the-moon design in the center.
    Owen was already at the well in the corner, yanking on a rope like he was a sailor hauling up a load of cargo.
    â€œDon’t fall in,” Jesse warned him. That was all he needed to deal with: fishing an eleven-year-old out of a well.
    Jesse took his time joining him. Strange . The rope appeared to be in better shape than the rest of the city. It was still taut and strong, without any sign of wear.
    Owen dropped the bucket twice before he managed to haul it up, half full, but Jesse wasn’t about to criticize.
    Jesse had to admit he was thirsty. Except for the fruit they had eaten for breakfast, he hadn’t had anything to drink since the day before. He took the bucket after Owen and drank from it.
    His stomach growled, reminding him how much walking they had done in one morning. “I suppose it’s more fruit for our afternoon meal.”
    But Owen was already running around the courtyard, exploring. “I guess I’ll bring it to you,” Jesse called, rolling his eyes.
    â€œThanks!” Owen said, scrambling over a fallen pillar.
    â€œJust don’t leave the courtyard,” Jesse said, using his sternest tone. He surveyed the courtyard, trying to remember how to get to the vineyard.
    There. Down the steps .
    Sure enough, the vineyard with the yellow fruit lay at the bottom of the steps. The dark vines, tangled around the stone walls, were exactly the same as Jesse remembered them. But there was something wrong.
    Jesse returned empty-handed. “Where’s the food?” Owen demanded. Now he was up in a tree by the courtyard wall.
    â€œThere wasn’t any fruit,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “No ripe fruit, anyway.”
    â€œSo this patch is a little slow,” Owen said, shrugging. “Let’s go back to the orchard where we got breakfast. Or, I guess there’s that melon patch a few houses over.”
    â€œNo, you don’t understand,” Jesse said. “I was just here yesterday, and those vines were sagging with ripe fruit.”
    â€œYou sure you have the right place? I mean, there’s not much that’s special about a bunch of vines.”
    â€œMaybe…” Jesse said, trying to think back. But the scene from the day before played out in his mind exactly the same way every time: he ate a fruit from the vineyard, then came up the steps and saw Parvel in the courtyard with the phases of the moon.
    â€œJesse,” Owen said, and his tone of voice made Jesse snap his head up instantly. “There are people coming.”
    â€œGet down from there,” Jesse hissed, scanning the courtyard for a hiding place. The well was too short, the tree not wide enough. Up the porch steps and inside the building? Not enough time.
    Owen didn’t bother to climb down using