“Jack! I can’t hold on!”
I grabbed Annabella’s arm and pulled her up, digging into the mud. Lightning flashed in the sky and lit the hillside in a cold white light.
“Let’s head for that fallen tree,” I said. “We can find cover beneath the branches. Can you make it?”
Annabella nodded, and we slogged through the mud as well as we could. When we reached the tree, Annabella slumped beneath a branch. I tried to find any kind of opening, but the tree did not appear to be hollow.
“Jack! I found something!” Annabella cried.
I turned back toward Annabella. Amid the leafless branches she had found a nest woven tightly with grass and twigs so it formed a round little shelter. “It’s empty,” she said.
“Are you sure?” I said. “What if it belongs to a rat or a giant bird?”
“It must have been abandoned when the tree fell. The animal probably found a better shelter.”
The rain fell harder, and Annabella shivered. She needed to dry off soon or she was going to catch cold. I stepped inside the nest, holding my axe over my shoulder. Everything was still and quiet and—miraculously—dry and warm. It was lined with leaves and feathers and fluff. An old bird’s nest, I guessed.
I shouted for Annabella to come inside. She smiled at the little fort and curled up in a pile of fluff. I stood by the hole awhile to make sure no one was coming. Finally satisfied that we would be left alone, I dropped my axe and sank down into the nest, ready for a long sleep after a long day.
“Jack?” whispered Annabella.
“What?”
“I’m sorry I got kidnapped by a toad.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “And it was kind of fun to watch you get all wrapped up in that giant tongue.”
Annabella giggled. “I really thought I was going to get eaten.”
“What did the tongue feel like? Slimy?”
“Mostly sticky, and when she licked me, it tickled. I didn’t mind so much.”
“Does this mean you won’t scream anymore when I put a toad in your bed?”
“That was you?!”
I looked at her incredulously. “Did you really think they just hopped through the window and found their way beneath your covers?”
“And the grasshoppers in my apron, and the spiders?” She seemed fairly shocked.
“Yep.”
“I knew it! One of these days your tricks are going to come back to bite you!”
I smiled.
We listened to the rain pelt the top of the nest. Soon it lightened and then stopped altogether. Through the small opening in the nest we could see a sliver of misty moon.
“Do you think that’s the same moon we see in our world?” Annabella asked.
“It looks the same to me,” I said.
“I hope Papa can see it,” said Annabella. “He always loved the moon.”
“He loved the land,” I said.
“He loved us, and Mama, too.”
Yes, Papa loved us. You could see it in the way he lifted Annabella and swung her around, the way he kissed Mama and pulled her tight to his chest, and the way he clapped his hand on my shoulder and told me I was great, just like Grandpa Jack.
I wanted to show him that I loved him just as much. More than fame or fortune or giant adventures. I wanted him back more than I wanted to be great.
“He still loves us, Bells,” I said. “We’re going to find him.”
Annabella didn’t say anything. She was asleep, and in a moment I was, too.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Squeak and Bite
I was woken by a squeaky voice and a sharp tug at my hair.
“Leave me alone, Bells,” I mumbled. “It’s too early.” I dug myself deeper into the fluff and squeezed my eyes shut, but she kept pestering me. She pulled my hair and poked me in the face and chattered like she was a squirrel or something. I couldn’t understand a word she was saying. I slapped at her. She squealed and fluttered away.
Fluttered? How would Annabella flutter?
My eyes flew open. I saw a flash of color and lots of shimmer and sparkle, like sunshine or…gold. The whole nest gleamed and glistened as the sunlight streamed in through the opening. It was not made of grass or sticks at all, but neatly woven strands of gold.
It was also swarming with creatures—some kind of hornet or hummingbird. I couldn’t see because there were so many and they were moving so fast, but whatever they were, this was clearly their nest and they were not happy to find it occupied. They pulled my hair, tugged at my clothing, and scratched my arms and legs with sharp nails. They squeaked and chirped a sort of gibberish that sounded halfway between a bird and a squirrel.
I pulled out my axe and swung haphazardly. The creatures shrieked and dispersed, flying to the far corners of the nest. I lowered my axe and stared.
They were neither birds nor insects, but people my size, with hair in all colors of the rainbow—and wings! Sparkling translucent dragonfly wings, shiny green leaf wings, blue butterfly wings, and pink flower-petal wings.
These must be pixies.
Great.
This was probably the absolutely worst place we could have chosen to sleep—a pixie nest. According to Tom, pixie bites could make you explode, but maybe if we backed out slowly, with no sudden movements, they’d let us be.
“Annabella,” I whispered. “Bells. Wake up.”
Annabella groaned and turned over. The pixies turned their attention to her, and one went over to investigate. He had dragonfly wings and hair as green as spring grass. And he was wearing grass, too, and leaves and tree bark all stitched haphazardly together with gold threads. He cocked his head and looked at Annabella like a curious bird.
I tightened my grip on the axe, but my hands were sweaty and slipped along the handle.
Annabella yawned and stretched. Her eyes fluttered open. She stared at the pixie for a moment, and then she gasped and sprang up. The pixie flew back a little. Annabella looked all around the nest, her eyes wide with awe.
“Jack,” whispered Annabella, “We must be in a fairy palace!”
“Pixies,” I said. “The giants call them pixies.”
“Pixies…,” muttered Annabella, taking it all in. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
The green pixie squeaked gibberish and moved closer to Annabella. I raised my axe, ready to strike.
“No, Jack! Stop!” The pixies were hissing at me now, baring sharp teeth, glossy with venom.
“Bells, we need to get out of here, now.”
But their anger at me was once again overcome by their interest in Annabella. Something about her seemed to fascinate them.
The green pixie approached her.
“Eeks Saakt ist ooch kist,” screeched the green pixie.
Annabella bowed her head. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Annabella, and this is my brother, Jack.”
“Wait, you understand them?”
Annabella looked at me in surprise. “You don’t?”
“Of course not! They’re talking nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense. He says his name is Saakt. He’s the pixie prince, or something like that.”
The pixie gestured at me and squealed more nonsense. “Hech tistken urch wak gotter ost vutten skkkeeet!”
“He also says you’re trespassing on pixie territory, and you now owe them a debt.”
“A debt?”
“Uchsa Rast gold stiks twodx uuuurtttsss!”
“They prefer to be paid in gold. If you don’t pay, there will be a punishment—I think he said the Bite of Eternal…Itching? Twitching? Or maybe he said your legs would fall off? I didn’t quite catch it all.”
I rubbed at my leg. “What about you?”
She smirked. “He likes me. I’m a guest of honor, he says.”
“But I’m your brother! Can’t you tell them to like me, too?”
“That’s not how it works.”
“What do you mean? You’ve spent two minutes with pixies and
now you know all about them? I’ve heard about these beasts! They’re vicious, even to giants.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! They’re not vicious. They’re highly sensitive creatures. Look how sweet they are.” Two more pixies had now descended from the ceiling, each chirping at Annabella. They were bigger and wilder than the others, with bent, scarred moth wings that looked like they’d been thrashed by a cat’s claws or something.
“This one’s name is Eetsl, and this one is Kazzi. They’re Saakt’s guardians, I think.”
I snorted. “You think?”
One of the pixies picked up Annabella’s tangled hair and inspected it closely. “Etek ist gold!”
More pixies flocked to Annabella, picking up strands of hair and pulling them in all directions. Annabella giggled. “They think my hair looks like gold.”
“So they like gold, huh?”
“They love it. I think it gives them some kind of power, I’m not sure what. Maybe to fly? Hey, maybe they could help us find Papa! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? If we had flying friends, then we could find him much faster.”
“No, Bells,” I said. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” I didn’t really want help from creatures who had threatened to make my legs fall off.
“Don’t be silly!” She turned to the green-dragonfly pixie. “Saakt, can you help us? We’re trying to find our papa in the giant’s castle.”
At this several pixies bounced and squeaked.
“Gold! Gold! GOLD! Gold! Goooooold!”
“They’re chanting gold over and over,” Annabella translated.
“Yes, I understood that much! Gold is all they care about, and the castle is full of it. Come on, Bells—we’re wasting time.”
“No, wait. I think there’s more.”
The green pixie was gesturing wildly and squeaking so loud and fast, it made my ears itch.
“What is he saying?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s very excited. He keeps saying something about gold and he’ll fly us. Or at least me.”
“What? No, Bells. We can’t trust them.”
“But, Jack—”
“No, no, no! NO! I already rescued you from a toad, and we can’t afford to waste any more time.” I grabbed Annabella’s hand and yanked her toward the opening of the nest. The green pixie chattered an angry command, and his guardians blocked my path. They spread their jagged wings and snarled, revealing razor-sharp teeth.
“He thinks you’re trying to steal me,” said Annabella.
“She’s my sister,” I said, “and we have to go find our papa.”
The guardians, Schnitzel and Catsy, or whatever, stood their ground, screeching like bats.
“Jack, you’re making them angry…. You don’t want to do that.”
“Well, they’re making me angry!” I turned to the pixie prince. “I’m sorry we slept in your nest. If you must know, it was her idea, but now we’d like to be going. I’m sorry I have no gold to pay you. It looks like you have quite enough here. Good day.”
With that, I jumped forward, swinging my axe like a madman, and the pixies shot into the air.
“Jack! What are you doing?”
“Getting out of this crazy place.”
“Jack, if you just—”
“Bells, let’s go now!”
I grabbed Annabella and shoved her toward the opening. She screamed as she tumbled out of the nest. A few of the pixies flew after her, but the rest swarmed around me. I swung my axe to keep them at bay. The green pixie snapped and snarled, his black eyes glaring with malevolence.
I managed to clear a path and jump out of the nest, but the pixies quickly regrouped. They hovered above, pelting me with rocks. I needed dirt. Tom said that was the only real defense against pixies. I clawed at the muddy ground and threw clumps of dirt at them. They shrieked and flew away, but in a moment they circled around and launched a dive-bomb attack. “Bells! Throw dirt at them!” I shouted.
“Why?”
“Just do it!”
I threw another handful, but one of the pixies managed to dodge it and shoved me onto my back so all the air got knocked out of me. He yanked my hair and scratched my face, and finally I felt a sharp sting on my leg.
Here it was. My demise was near, and it would come not at the hand of a giant but a pixie—one with pink hair and yellow butterfly wings.
Dirt and pebbles showered down, and the pixies screamed and scattered. More dirt fell on me. I dared to peek between my arms and saw Annabella shaking a mud-caked tree branch with all her might. The pixies flew away in a swarm until they were nothing more than a moving shadow in the blue sky. I sat up. Annabella wiped her muddy hands on her apron. Then she turned on me.
“Why did you have to do that?” she snapped.
“You’re welcome. They were going to bite you!”
“No, they were not! They were only curious. And I could have gotten them to help us, but you had to play the hero and attack them, and now they’re gone.”
I felt my face go hot. “Well, if you hadn’t climbed up the beanstalk in the first place, I never would have come here, and I probably could have found Papa by now.”
Annabella’s eyes widened. She covered her mouth as though she were about to cry or be sick.
“Bells, I’m sorry, I just…” I didn’t mean to make her feel that bad.
But Annabella shook her head and pointed. “Oh, Jack, your leg…” She grimaced and shut her eyes.
I looked down and yelped. My left leg had ballooned to twice the size of my right. It was more like a log than a leg. The pixie bite. In the mad rush and my anger at Annabella, I had forgotten all about it, but now that I noticed it, my brain registered a sharp pain shooting from my hip down to my toe. My foot was swelling fast, too, stretching the leather of my shoe. I scrambled to pull it off and watched my foot become as round as a ball with five fat knobs at the end.
My chest got tight. My breathing got short. Was my leg about to fall off? Was I going to explode?
Annabella looked around, and then she ran behind me, out of sight.
“Where are you going? Don’t leave me!” But a few seconds later she was back, her hands full of dark, slimy mud. It smelled like rotten potatoes.
“Where’s the bite, Jack?”
My leg had swollen to such proportions that my pants were splitting open, so I split them the rest of the way, revealing the bite just above my knee. It was just a graze really, but the whole area was red and angry. Annabella slapped a handful of mud on the wound. It stung at first, but then the slimy coolness seeped into the cut and took the edge off the pain. Annabella ripped a strip of fabric off my torn pants and tied it around my leg to keep the mud in place.
“It will take hours for the swelling to go down,” she said. “But we can’t stay here. The pixies might come back and finish you off. They’re not forgiving creatures.” She said it as though she dealt with pixies every day. “Can you move at all?”
I tried to lift myself off the ground, but I could hardly feel my leg anymore. What if I had to get a wooden stump like Jaber the tinker? “I can’t bend my leg,” I said.
“You’ve got to,” said Annabella. She came behind me and put her arms underneath mine. “I’ll push you up, and then you swing your right arm around my neck.
“Bells, you’re not strong enough,” I said. “I’m too big.”
“Hogwash,” said Annabella, sounding very much like Mama. “You may be tall, but you’re just as skinny as I am. Now, on three. One, two, three.” Annabella heaved and pulled. I tried to push myself up but fell back almost immediately and took Annabella with me.
“I told you I can’t bend my leg.”
“Not your left, but you can still bend your right, silly. Why are you keeping it straight?”
“Oh.” I forgot my right leg still worked. I bent my knee, and Annabella positioned herself behind me once more. “Let’s try it again. On three, push on your good leg and hold on to me. One, two, three.” She heaved and pull
ed, and I pushed up on my right leg and cried out at the pain shooting down my left, but I stayed standing and swung my arm over Annabella’s shoulder. She teetered under my weight but steadied herself, and I was able to hobble along, dragging my log-leg behind me. Every step was a stab of pain. I started to sweat and breathe hard even though we were moving about as slow as a snail—slower than giant snails.
“I can’t make it much farther,” I said.
“Let’s just make it to that bush over there. There are leaves to give us cover. We should be safe.”
The bush she was speaking of was more like a copse of trees, and it was miles away. I felt dizzy just looking at it, but we continued to hobble onward and upward, one excruciating step at a time. Annabella started to sink beneath my weight, but she kept going and pulled me along like she’d been hauling bales of hay her whole life.
The pain in my left leg doubled, and my right side burned with the strain of trying to carry all that weight. “Bells, I can’t go any farther.”
“We’re almost there.” Annabella heaved and groaned as we struggled on. “Al…most…there!”
I grasped for every bit of strength. The trees were close, but they tilted sideways.
“Jack, don’t give up now! Just a few more steps!” Annabella propped me up and the trees were straight again.
“Almost…there…now. There!” Annabella gasped for breath. “We made it!”
“Made it,” I mumbled. The trees turned all the way upside down as I crumpled to the ground. I heard Annabella calling my name, but the sound was very small and far away, and then it was gone altogether.
When I woke, it was still daylight. My leg was still swollen and it still hurt like a thousand beestings, but now I could bend it slightly. I grabbed on to a branch and pulled myself up. Everything blurred and swirled, and I had to sit back down again.