Once Upon the End (Half Upon a Time) (10 page)

CHAPTER 19

J
ack 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
mmm
ing 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 ahold 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

M
ay 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.

The whole thing made her sick. But she would play pretend, she would play at Cinderella again, dress up in this costume and play the good guy for the Wicked Queen’s villain, if that’s what it took. She would live out the story, no matter what the story was, as long as Phillip and Penelope were safe. The Queen didn’t want them, just May.

So whatever it took. And then she’d be free to find some way out, to fight back somehow . . . assuming it wasn’t too late.

She smoothed her dress, knowing that the Queen could see any potential wrinkle as an insult, then carefully brushed her hair, her stomach turning over and over for far too many reasons.

Penelope stepped out of an adjoining room wearing a pink dress that almost hurt May’s eyes to look at, it was so impossibly beautiful. Penelope, though, didn’t seem to even notice, and instead was carefully trying to find places for her few remaining spindle splinters.

“Why can’t there be any pockets?” she said eventually, dropping her hands to her side in defeat.

“They really weren’t very considerate of us taking weapons in, were they?” May said, smiling slightly. “I wouldn’t bother. She’ll know.”

The glass ball at the small of her back behind the dress’s sash said differently, but Penelope didn’t need to know that. This had to be a surprise, or the Queen would stop it.

Penelope bit her lip. “Maybe. But I don’t especially like the idea of going in without anything to help us out if things get rough.”

“Things aren’t going to get rough,” May said. “I’m going to make sure they don’t. You and Phillip are going to go home, no matter what. Trust me. And trust me in there. Do what I say, and follow my lead, okay? I can’t have you both . . . I can’t have anything happen. Especially not given what the Queen said about Phillip and Ja . . . Phillip and the other one.”

“Jack?” Penelope asked, and May winced. “I wonder how he’s doing. It’d be nice to see him and say hi, if he’s here.”

May just glared at the girl, but a knock at the door interrupted her before she could think of something suitably clever to say. A goblin opened the door and gestured politely for them to leave.

“You ready for this?” May asked Penelope.

“Every day I’m awake is a good day,” Penelope told her with a smile.

Fair enough.

The goblin led them down a corridor made of black stone, while four other goblins fell in behind them, each one holding an axe as tall as they were. May tried to follow their path, just in case she needed to make a quick getaway at any point, but there were so many hallways and stairs and twisting paths that she couldn’t remember which way left or right was half the time and eventually just gave up.

Which, of course, was when they reached the throne room.

Large columns of stone rose all the way to the ceiling, or descended all the way to the floor . . . it was hard to be sure. Between the columns, red eyes appeared and disappeared, shadows flitting in and out of the darkness. Even the goblins behind May were nervous, though the one leading them seemed to be at least faking confidence. He probably didn’t want to get in trouble with the Queen for disrespecting her either.

The Queen herself sat at the very far end of the throne room, on an elaborate bone chair twice her height, rising like a living thing over her, as if it were about to attack anyone standing before the throne. Maybe it was.

To her right was a coffin made of ice, just like the one May had seen in the Palace of the Snow Queen, right before everything stopped making sense.

Snow White.

The Queen stood up as the two girls approached. Behind them, Phillip entered with another group of guards and quickly caught up to them.

“Be prepared to run as soon as I attack,” the prince whispered as he reached them. “And do not look back, no matter what you hear.”

May looked at him, then cleared her throat. “Your Majesty?” she said, stopping in place.

The Queen tilted her head in response, and May continued. “The prince here is planning on attacking you to help us escape. If I might suggest to Your Majesty that she have his guards hold his arms and legs to keep anything . . . unpleasant from happening?”

Phillip looked at her with his mouth wide open, but Penelope shook her head. “She’s got a plan,” the princess whispered to him.

The Queen slowly smiled. “Since you ask so nicely, May, I cannot help but grant your request.” She gestured, and the goblin guards grabbed both of Phillip’s arms, and two others moved in close to catch him if he escaped the first two.

“Of course, you know why you are here?” the Queen continued.

“For sentencing, Your Majesty,” May said. “And I am fully prepared to declare my loyalty to you if you wish, whatever you say . . . if you might find it within your heart to release my two friends here.”

The Queen’s smile grew. “That is an interesting thought. But what use do I have for you to give me your loyalty, when I might have it whenever I desire?” She gestured, and May fell to her knees, exactly as Phillip had.

“Because . . .” May said, gritting her teeth as she fought to raise her head. “Because, Your . . . Majesty, you will . . . never know . . . if I might escape. Or disobey. You cannot . . . watch me at . . . all times.”

“Let her go!” Phillip shouted, and the Queen turned her attention to the prince. Abruptly, May could stand, and she leapt to her feet.

“NO!” she shouted. “Ignore him! I’ll do whatever you want, just let those two go!”

The Queen slowly turned her gaze back to May, and she shook her head. “You were doing so well with the respect, May. But one can only keep up an act for so long, I suppose. You come before me with no power yet offer me the only thing you have left, your will, in order to save your friends?”

This was it: She had no more time. May stood back up, and put both her arms behind her back, keeping her mind as empty as possible. “So if I do, will you let them go, then?”

The Queen smiled. “Oh, May. Of course not.”

May nodded, then tore the glass ball out of her sash and whipped it as hard as she could right at the Queen.

The Wolf King’s hand closed around it before it had even gone two feet.

The wolf opened his hand and looked at the glass ball, his eyes widening.

“My dear,” the Queen said, shaking her head. “You choose a poor time to rebel. What is it, my servant?”

The Wolf King looked May right in the eye, his eyes disbelieving, his hand closing around the Fairest. “It is . . . nothing,” he said, his eyes locked on May’s. “Some . . . pathetic attempt to hurt you, your Majesty. I will destroy it.”

Did he know what it was? Not that May did exactly, but the wolf seemed to recognize the Fairest somehow. But why wouldn’t he just tell the Queen what it was?

The Queen’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “Your loyalty is an example to us all, my friend.”

The wolf bowed, then exited quickly, throwing one last look at May before he left, taking their only hope with him.

“Now,” the Queen said, “such an attempt deserves a punishment, doesn’t it?”

The Queen beckoned, and two goblins carried in a silver tray, stopping before Phillip and Penelope. The Queen raised a hand, and the tray’s lid lifted off and into the air, revealing two beautifully red apples.

“Sometimes it’s nice to stay in theme, don’t you agree, May?” the Queen said.

“Don’t do this,” May whispered.

“I won’t do anything,” the Queen responded. “They just look hungry, don’t they?”

Phillip and Penelope both straightened, then reached with shaking hands to the apples. They each grabbed one, then slowly brought them to their lips, struggling against the Queen’s magic.

“Don’t do this!” May repeated, shouting this time. “Don’t hurt them!”

“Lessons must be learned!” the Queen said. “Besides, if a poisoned apple is good enough for Snow White, why not these two? Now, my two delightful royals . . . please start eating. There’s no need to wait for the rest of us.”

Phillip glanced at May, then put the apple to his lips and opened his mouth.