Seed of Darkness

by Little Red Hood

A new threat descends upon Cloister and Jack must use the Crown of Erik to call on some unlikely allies. Fallon/Isabelle, Fumm/OC

6. Chapter 5: Down

Title: Seed of Darkness

Rating: T

Summary: A new threat descends upon Cloister and Jack is forced to use the Crown of Erik to call upon some unlikely allies.

Disclaimer: Do not own. Please don't sue.

Chapter Five: Down

They didn't have to wait long.

The first sign that something was happening was when the beanstalk started shaking. There was the papery rustle of giant leaves as stone-sized bits of plantflesh shook free of the main stalk, tumbling down and smacking into the earth like green hail, then Isabelle cried out as a whole leaf fluttered down. Its round edges curled as the wind caught it before it hit the ground, carrying it away like a jade-colored cloud..

"Be ready!" Elmont had to shout to be heard above the windroar. More leaves shook loose and were swirled about like tea in a cup across the field. "They're coming down!"

Isabelle nearly fell backwards from craning her neck to see. The top of the stalk disappeared above a nexus of swollen gray clouds that were spinning in a tight funnel, like moldy cream stirred by a god's spoon. Lightning flickered in sharp little bursts of arctic white. Her uneasy stomach turned over on itself as she remembered what it had been like to be carried up there, trapped and all alone. She wasn't sure what her face looked like at the moment, but it felt as though every drop of blood in her cheeks was being sucked away by hungry leeches,

leaving her cold as an iced marble sculpture. Then Jack was behind her, gripping her shoulders tightly without taking his eyes off the quivering beanstalk. Swallowing, she raised an unsteady hand, pushing strands of windblown hair out of her face while glancing up once more at the twisted growth forming a bridge between Earth and Sky.

Her heart picked up its already frantic beat when she saw a flash of bright steel armor, then heard a flurry of snapping, bending, and tearing as long, slim arms darted among the foliage like wriggling spider legs. For creatures so big, they were incredibly quick climbers; finding handholds and footholds that supported their weight long enough for then to spring off onto the vines below, moving steadily closer to the ground. Her vision was partially blocked by the snakehair tangle of leafy creepers, but she could've sworn one giant actually let go of the stalk, allowing his huge bulk to plummet in freefall for a few breathless seconds before catching onto a fresh stem.

The wry thought came to her on a wave of semi-hysteria: Show off.

She twisted her head around, trying to catch sight of Anastasa. Found her clinging to Elmont's arm, her mouth opening in a half-scream as she pointed up at the descending giants. Her rose-colored dress rippled on her body like spilled wine as the wind teased it. Isabelle felt a nasty certainty that any giant looking at her would see a tasty little snack. Well, you wanted to come, Ana, she thought. If we all die, at least you'll leave the world with your curiosity satisfied.

Jack was stiff and still as he released her shoulders. He moved to stand beside her, not speaking but Isabelle read grim resolve in his tightly clenched jaw and rigid spine. The Crown was becoming a glowing ribbon of fire on his head, its power increasing as the sorcery-forged metal woke to fulfill its intended purpose. A gust of wind blew droplets of cold rain in their faces, the grass around them flattened under the storm.

Her fingers brushed Jack's, and they only had a single brief moment to clasp hands before the giant's let go of the beanstalk to drop the rest of the way. The impact of their giant feet shook the ground like earthbound thunder. Then there came a sudden calm as the shrieking wind dwindled, settling itself into a tame breeze that gently lifted strands of her rain-damp hair. Overhead, clouds began to separate and drift apart, letting down a weak, filtered light that shone off her plate armor like subdued amber.

As one, the giants straightened from their crouches. She counted five of them.

Fee, Fye, Foe, Fum, and...

Her heart sank like gold bricks in water. Oh no.

With deliberate slowness, Fallon lifted his enormous bulk off the ground, straightening his knees until he towered over them all. He looked just like Isabelle remembered him, encased in gray armor that hung down in pleats around his legs. Spikes of bone adorned his left shoulder, gleaming ivory-white as a skull stripped of flesh, while the smaller head grew from its stumpy neck out of his right side. He looked healed from the wounds he'd suffered when the beanstalk had nearly burst out of him, and Isabelle noticed with dismay that his flail was coiled in a loop buckled to his waist. The other giants were similarly armored, and all of them bore the look of bottled destruction just waiting to be set loose.

Isabelle made a small movement when Fallon stepped forward, then mentally slapped herself. Show no fear, you fool! He'll walk all over you if you do! To her left, Jack had made himself as tall as possible, the Crown settled on his windblown hair helped add a little authority to his otherwise-harmless demeanor.

She fervently hoped they hadn't just literally made the biggest mistake of their lives.

Fallon stopped several feet away from them and Isabelle suppressed a shudder as his narrowed eyes latched firmly on her. When he spoke, his voice was full of false cheer, his accent thick and melodious."Your Highness, it's soooo good to see you again!" Isabelle felt like a mouse as she craned her neck to see him, and grimaced in disgust as a strand of spittle leaked from one corner of the small head's mouth. Fallon - or the head she thought of as Fallon - inhaled deeply and grinned. "You smell wonderful, as always."

I suppose that's meant to be a compliment, she thought. A little of her courage was returning. Enough for her to shout up to him."Fallon!" She placed a hand on the hilt of the sword strapped to her waist for effect. "What are you doing here?"

He regarded her stonily, his eyes narrowing to dark slits while his second head burbled a small, confused noise. "You invited us here."

"I didn't!" At least I didn't expect to see you restored to your old, ferocious self so quickly, she silently amended.

"Then I suppose the beanstalk planted itself, then?" Now he sounded irritated, and Isabelle's heart leapt like a panicked rabbit when he moved a step closer. But instead of approaching them directly, he veered off to one side. Then he moved behind them, and it took every ounce of courage she had left to resist turning like a top to keep him in view. He continued to prowl, circling them like a hungry wolf while the other giants simply watched. It was the same tactic he'd used to interrogate her when she'd been his prisoner in the cage. It was meant to unnerve her, and, damn him, it was working. Sweat began to appear in wet little drops at her hairline, and it was a physical effort to keep from drawing her sword.

She jumped when Jack's hand closed tightly around her upper arm, then shoved her behind him. He shielded her with his body as he addressed the giant. Fallon stopped circling them to glare down at Jack. The upper row of his teeth showed in a fierce snarl.

"As your new King, my first command is for you to leave the princess alone, you freak!"

Isabelle couldn't help clapping her hands over her ears when Fallon roared. "YOU ARE NO KING, BOY!" His foot stomped the ground hard enough to raise a geyser of mud while their horses, which they'd tethered to a stand of nearby oaks, bucked and shrieked in terror. Jack didn't fall, but Isabelle could tell from his razor-straight spine and high chin that he was engaged in an epic internal battle. The Crown flared into incandescent golden life.

Isabelle held her breath, every muscle in her tense and quivering. Fallon's strong-willed enough to fight it. Even Roderick had trouble breaking him. If we don't get him under control fast, there'll be hell to pay.

"You will not harm the princess, or anyone else." Jack's voice was slow, yet filled with solemn power. "You were called here to help us."

"Help you?" Fallon snorted. "Show me a true King first, then we'll talk!" Isabelle felt clammy-cold as those piercing black eyes sought her out again. Knowing it was useless to hide, she stepped out from behind Jack. Fallon bent down, stretched a clawed hand out toward her, his fingers grasping at air like a man trying to snatch up a misbehaving puppy, but he snarled viciously when something held him back. She snapped a glance over at Jack, who looked pale and strained.

Fallon scowled down at them as he straightened up.

"Take off the Crown, Jack, then show me how sharp your teeth are."

"That's not an option, I'm afraid." Elmont's clear voice rang like steel across the field. Isabelle heaved a relieved sigh as he came trudging up, towing a wide-eyed, trembling Anastasa by one hand. The pretty rose dress Ana wore was now covered in mud and grass stains. The poor girl probably collapsed during Fallon's outburst, Isabelle thought, and I don't blame her one bit. Yet Elmont appeared unruffled as his eyes flicked from Fallon, to the four other giants assembled behind him, then back to Fallon, whose small head returned his cool stare with a small burp. "We brought you all here because we have some dragons that need slaying and, believe me, we don't like having to ask for your help any more than you seem to want to give it!"

"Dragons?" For the first time, Fallon sounded interested. The eyes of his small head grew round as it gave a little yip of excitement. Closing his eyes, the giant inhaled deeply, every part of him still, concentrating. "Yesssss," he drawled, sounding like a wolf dreaming of the chase, followed by the inevitable kill. "I can smell them, beyond the stink of your human kingdom. They seek to hide their vile scent, the crafty little snakes." His four companions also grew restless, wrinkling their noses in quick little sniffs. Isabelle noticed Fumm watching her, and tried unsuccessfully to read any hint of emotion on the black-haired giant's face.

Then Fallon seemed to remember them. "I should let the snakes have their way with you little grasshoppers."

"You won't." Willing her knees not to betray her, Isabelle stepped forward. She reached into a leather pouch clipped to her waist and withdrew the book they'd retrieved from the monastery, flipping it open. She held it up, letting him see the illustrations of giants and dragons in pitched battles. "You can't. We know you've fought them before."

Upon seeing the book, he actually hissed. One hand dropped to the coiled flail at his hip, and Isabelle backed rapidly away with her pounding heart lodged firmly in her throat. His fingers jerked in tiny, arthritic little spasms but as much as he tried, he couldn't make them close around his weapon. His expression went slack, and his heavy breathing seemed to fill the world. When he spoke again, the words came out as strangled growls. "Where did you maggots get that wretched thing?"

Isabelle's thoughts whirled like snowflakes in her head as she retreated. Well, we know for certain the book came from Gantua now. She couldn't help feeling a pinch of smug satisfaction that she'd managed to rattle Fallon's nerves for once. That's for locking me in that cage, you monster. She slipped the book back into its pouch, felt its weight sway against her hip. The beanstalk whispered to itself as it settled, green things scraping lightly against each other.

"Enough!" Once again, Jack placed himself in front of her - a symbolic gesture more than anything, since it did nothing to hide her from the giants who looked down on them all. "You will help us," he said. It wasn't a request. It was a Command, and its power became manifest when Fye, then Fee, then Foe, and finally Fumm all dropped to their knees. "You will protect us."

"No." Fallon's voice was a weak whisper now. His whole body trembled, ropy muscles in his arms and legs straining against the compulsion to kneel. To obey. "No."

"Please." Isabelle hadn't meant to say it. Had said it so softly she wasn't sure Fallon had even heard. There was just something about the sight of the proud giant warrior being made into a slave that unsettled her stomach and made her heart squirm beneath a layer of heavy guilt. She'd felt nothing but relief when Roderick showed up with the Crown and put the monster in his place - Fallon had just threatened to eat her, after all, and she'd had no idea Roderick was going to turn around and betray them only a few short seconds later. So she hadn't expected to feel anything other than comforted to see it happening again, allowed to breathe easier once the soulless beast was rendered incapable of ripping them to pieces. This is ridiculous, she thought as she watched a tremor shake his massive body. I shouldn't feel bad about humbling him a little.

But she did.

'Please," she whispered again. Her skin was damp with sweat beneath the plate armor, and the nasty thought that maybe Fallon could smell it didn't help. A quick shift of her attention showed her the giants behind him with their bellies pressed to the ground, completely submissive. Fumm's eyes were still latched firmly onto them and a chill stroked light, icy claws down Isabelle's spine when she realized he wasn't staring at her, but at Ana, who cowered beside Elmont. At least the knight seemed more or less composed, watching the mental struggle between boy and giant with alert interest.

Her eyes flicked back to Fallon. The small head seemed limp and unresponsive as a broken flagpole, but his other half was still fighting. Deep furrows made dark lines in his brow, while his black eyes squeezed themselves tightly shut. She shifted from foot to foot, unsure if her discomfort was from the tight armor rubbing against her shoulders or from the terror of what might happen if Fallon wouldn't submit. Please don't make us fight you.

With a great sigh, the two-headed leader of the giant race crumpled like a broken marionette, going down to both knees with a thump that shook the ground. All the metal on him clanked as he dropped to all fours. His palms pressed flat into the earth, his forearms quivered from the effort it took to hold himself up. Isabelle held her breath as she glanced at Jack, who stared unblinkingly at the monster. A gust of wind mouthed at the loose sleeves of his jacket, pushing them back far enough that Isabelle noticed his fists were clenched so hard the tendons on the pale underside of his wrists stood out like harp strings. From its seat on Jack's head, the Crown gave forth another bright gold pulse of liquid light, and Fallon leveled a burning, hateful glare at the boy-king that filled Isabelle's blood with ice, baring every one of his sharp, bloodstained teeth in a defiant snarl. "I'll suck the marrow from your bones for this, you little whelp!" Then he lowered himself, flattening his whole body into the muddy field.

Jack slumped forward. Isabelle grabbed his sagging shoulders. Elmont and Ana rushed to help, and all of them shared identical expressions of relief, wonder, and disbelief.

They'd just tamed a giant.

{O}

The ride back to Cloister was almost unbearable. The five giants trudged at a respectful distance behind them, and Jack had to fight down the temptation to glance over his shoulder after every heavy footfall. He knew it must've been even worse for Isabelle, considering the two-headed freak was back and tormenting her already. Every time he glanced in his fiance's direction her wide, luminous eyes remained fixed at some distant point on the horizon while she gripped Victoria's reins like a shipwrecked sailor holding onto a drifting plank. Jack himself was so tired he could've fallen asleep in the bottom-bouncing saddle of his own horse, if it weren't for the breakneck pace the white stallion was going at. All the horses, even Elmont's disciplined charger, were unhappy with the latest developments. Their breath steamed in the cold air as the terrified animals strained muscle and sinew to the breaking point, eating up the distance between beanstalk and Cloister with no encouragement needed.

There's nothing like a troop of giants behind you for an incentive to run.

Daylight had long since faded, leaving them racing through a darkened countryside. They formed a tight line, with him and Elmont automatically taking flanking positions around Isabelle in case the need arose to defend her. The clouds thinned out enough to let a few ghost-pale needles of moonlight through, shafts of light that were gone almost as soon as they appeared. The giants seemed to have no trouble finding their way in the semi-darkness, whereas Jack had to squint before he could make out the moon-silvered outlines of trees and rocks in their path. And once or twice he thought his ears caught the whoosh of great leathery wings flapping in the night.

Giants behind us and dragons above us. Wonderful.

"Ho, Jack! We're almost there!" called out Elmont, who had Isabelle's lady-in-waiting on his black horse. Ana's pony had broken loose from the tree it'd been tied to, and was probably halfway to the mountains by now. The poor maid herself sagged against the knight's chest, while his left arm encircled her waist to keep her from sliding off the saddle. Tendrils of her long, red-gold hair were brushing close to Elmont's nose. Jack could see Ana's lips moving, but her soft voice didn't carry over the night wind so he could only guess at what sort of state she was in; if seeing giants for the first time had left her sensible or an incoherent wreck. From the exasperated frown on Elmont's face, he was betting on the latter. If the gallant knight's hands were free, Jack was certain they'd be slapped over his ears.

I'm not doing so wild either at the moment. That little game with Fallon took everything I had, and I'm still not sure he's completely on our side. Who am I kidding? Of course he's not! He could feel the weight of the Crown on his head, a warm circlet of gold, rubies. and esoteric symbols bound by dark magic to the wild heart of a giant. He'd always thought wearing a magic crown would make you feel special. Empowered.

Instead, it felt painful. Like rows of curved teeth gnawing at his skull, waiting for the perfect moment to bite down into his brain. How could anything so pure and good hurt so much?

It was forged with dark sorcery, a tiny, cringing voice whispered from a shadowy corner in his mind. Maybe it isn't good.

Jack shoved that less-than-comforting thought aside as he saw the gates of Cloister approaching. Stripes of moonlight shone in phosphorescent waves on the rippling surface of the moat while the dark path of the drawbridge hung suspended over it. Only at night did the moat regain some of its former beauty. By day it was a murky, poisoned brew of dead fish and rotting vegetation; the result of being filled with oil and set alight in a desperate gamble to keep Fallon's army from swimming across. Jack wrinkled his nose as a draught of its wet garbage stink reached him, and it wasn't long before he heard growled complaints among their troop of tame giants. Hey, it was pretty decent here before you guys showed up, he thought. Burning the moat had been a necessary move - and a successful one, Jack grinned, thinking of a certain two-headed bully who'd tried chasing him across only to end up getting dunked headfirst into a flaming bath - but they all regretted having to ruin such a beautiful piece of nature to save themselves.

We do what we have to do. The words of King Brahmwell cut through his recriminations like a knife sliding through a chink in plate armor. To keep our people safe. Hearing Brahmwell in his mind comforted him, yet left him sad and cold thinking he would never hear the kind old king's voice anywhere else ever again.

A pair of armored guards in red capes leaned upon iron lances at the mouth of the drawbridge. They crossed their lances as the riders approached, the clash of metal upon metal echoed in the quiet night.

"Halt! Who goes th-?"

Jack, Isabelle, and Elmont reined in their struggling, panting horses a split second before the first giant foot stepped into clear view beneath the moon, hairy toes wiggling. Fee lumbered as close as he could get without stepping on anyone, making Jack curse soundly under his breath when the ground tremors from the giant's massive footsteps nearly spooked his horse into panicked flight again. The sight of the armored, hulking Gantuan caused both guards faces to go pale as cream cheese. Their crossed lances rattled like broken weathervanes in their shaking hands. With one hand rubbing his stomach, Fee grinned broadly down at them, moonlight glinting off the sharp edges of his chipped teeth.

"Hello, juicy little men. I'm Fee. What're your names?'

A lance clattered to the ground as the first guard's eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted dead away. The second man barely managed to hold onto his weapon as he pointed a trembling finger upwards, stammering.

"G-G-G-G-G"

"Giants. Yes, we know," said Elmont. The knight began to dismount, his leather armor creaking as he swung down from the saddle. His quick strides carried him to the stricken man in moments. He reached out, patting the guard's shoulder reassuringly. "They're with us."

"With...us?" The words came freighted with dumbfounded, uncomprehending surprise. The shaking guard looked from Elmont, to the giants, then back to Elmont, staring at the Captain as if he had millipedes coming out of his eye sockets.

"Yes. With us." A trace of irritation colored the knight's voice. Studded leather made a small sound as he laid a hand upon his swordbelt. He jerked his head down at the fainted man, who lay curled up underneath his red cape like a doomed lobster about to be boiled. "Why don't you wake him up, then the both of you escort the Princess and her maid back to the palace? Then inform the other Guardians that our new allies have arrived. I'd like to avoid a mass panic before it starts." The knight stepped back, sending a pointed look at Jack clearly saying: I told you this was a bad idea! Hefting his lance in one steel-gauntleted hand, the wide-eyed guard managed a tight nod and, reaching down, pulled back the shifting red fabric to reveal the shaking, blubbering form beneath. One moment and a few muttered curses later the fallen man was back on his feet, clutching his own lance in both sweating hands, and trying to recover a little dignity by staunchly ignoring the giants while helping Ana onto Isabelle's horse, seating her behind the princess. Jack began to tap a finger against the saddle's leather surface, casting anxious sidelong glances up at Fallon, who seemed to be paying far too much attention to the graceful, delicate movements of his fiancee as she guided her white horse over the drawbridge. The guards flanking her didn't look back, their identically-bruised egos demanding one final display of courage in front of their commanding officer before finding time to steady their nerves with a healthy drink.

Once they were all safely across Jack heaved a great, bone-deep sigh of relief.

"Well," said Elmont, who sidled up close to him, "now what?"

Jack felt awkward, as he was still seated upon his horse and had to look down on the man he considered his mentor. "I don't like letting them into Cloister," he said, looking askance at the giants looming in a tight row at the edge of the moat. They shuffled their big feet unhappily

"Agreed." Elmont nodded. "Perhaps they should stay outside."

A low growl drifted down to them as Fallon shifted his weight a fraction of an inch forward. Jack tensed, his horse snorted and tried to canter away, and the Crown flashed gold as it responded to the angry giant. "How are we supposed to protect your city if we're kept out of it, boy?" The small head made an indignant squawk, its eyes bulging like a frogs, the puckered line of its mouth set in a petulant frown.

Elmont sighed. "As much as I hate to say it, they have a point." He paused, looking out toward the slumbering village. Jack followed his gaze. A few undamaged houses sat like hermits among the burned-out husks of less fortunate buildings. Their windows were either shuttered or boarded up, and nothing - not even a solitary purse snatcher - moved in the streets. Eerie silence hung over everything like a winding sheet over a corpse. The Guard Captain ran a hand through his spiky brown hair. "Won't do us much good if the dragons start carrying people off while our backup's locked outside." He sounded disappointed.

"All right, then" Squaring his shoulders, Jack glared up at Fallon, who glared right back with equal amounts of hostility and resentment. The space between them sizzled. I can't believe I'm saying this, Jack thought. And then he said the five little words that would change his life forever. "You all can come in."

If Jack could've laughed at that moment, he might've laughed at the look on the giant's faces. Fee actually giggled. Foe grinned and pumped a fist in the air. Fye's stiff eyebrows climbed almost to the top of his ridged forehead. Fumm's upper lip curled in what could've been a snarl or a smirk.

And Fallon spread his arms wide in a magnanimous gesture, his white teeth showing in a broad, delighted smile. His dark eyes were alight with cruel glee as his small head let out a happy little squeal. "We accept your invitation, mighty king!" Scorn dripped off the last word like blood from a murderer's knife, and Jack felt like falling off his horse as a ball of molten-hot nausea started rocking and rolling inside him. What have I done?

Jack looked over at his friend and mentor. For a few seconds, Elmont looked exactly like Jack felt: sick and uncertain. Then he seemed to gather himself, straightening his back and holding his chin up high, his eyes burning blue and clear. Resolved. "Are you all able to cross the drawbridge?" he asked.

"We can," Fallon said.

"Then come across," said Elmont, and Jack would almost swear he heard the man's teeth grind together. This must be torture for him. Knowing what happened to Crawe, and having no choice but to let those monsters into the kingdom. He wanted to say something, make some speech of consolation and support, but knew deep down there was nothing he could say to make this better. So he simply sat on his white stallion and watched Elmont march back to his own sweating, irritated horse, swing his legs into the stirrups, seize the reins, and take charge of his mount with the same skill and finesse he used to lead an army. Strands from the horse's wild black mane blew about like inky ribbons in the pre-dawn wind, tickling Elmont's face. He looks more like a hero than ever, Jack thought, and then grimaced as the terrible knife-sharp teeth of the Crown dug painfully into his mind again. He brought a hand to his aching forehead, almost touched the deceptively soft edge of the golden band, then stopped, somehow certain that Fallon was eyeing him with a calculating, predatory stare, searching for signs of weakness. Keep it together, Jack. He mentally kicked himself. Hard. Everyone's counting on you.

He breathed deep, then issued a command meant to remind them all who was in charge. "Watch your step. If I hear of any people being flattened by..."

"Oh, we'll be careful," Fee snickered, then jabbed an elbow into Fye's ribs. "Especially this light-footed lunk here."

"Least I wasn't cursed with such dainty little toes." Fye returned the jab by shoving his comrade's shoulder. "Every tree stump in the forest ends up as a splinter in those hairy nubs of yours." Fee rubbed the spot where he'd been hit, muttering, and the other giants laughed. Their good humor increased as Fee muscled his way up to the drawbridge and stuck a foot carefully out onto the human-made structure. Elmont and Jack simply sat on their horses and watched in a sort of fascinated dread, wondering if the stone would support his weight or break apart to drop him like a boulder into the moat. Jack was reminded of going to the circus with Dad once as a birthday outing and being mesmerized by an acrobat walking over a tightrope. Fee moved exactly the same way, with cautious little steps that prompted much jeering and mockery from the line of waiting giants behind him. A collective sigh of relief came from the two humans when he made it over, then was followed by Fye, Foe, and Fumm in quick succession. Fallon came last, grudgingly. No one dared taunt him except Fumm, who called out, "Don't fall in again, brother." The growl he received in answer would've rattled snowdrifts off the mountainsides. Jack grinned, hiding it in his sleeve.

When they were all across, the giants waited obediently for Jack and Elmont to join them. Elmont stopped his horse directly in front of them, speaking as he would to new recruits in the royal guard. "Well, you lot are all Guardians now. Let's assign you to your posts for remainder of the night."

"Fee. Fye. Your post will be the abbey."

"Right." Fee grinned, then wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Um, what's an abbey?"

"It's a big building with a belltower and a lot of little men in brown robes running about."

"Oh." Fee said with a quizzical tilt to his head. "Can we eat them?"

"No!" Elmont looked like he wanted to rub at his temples but was holding back. Barely. "Guard it. Protect the people there."

Fee shrugged, then lifted up his foot, and Jack had to fight against every screaming instinct he possessed yammering at him to run like hell as the two giants stepped over their human masters with feet big enough to squash houses. Then they were gone, and Jack needed a few extra moments to will himself out of frozen immobility. His horse remained still, its head drooping, apparently having resigned itself to an inevitable, messy death.

If Elmont were shaken at all, he did a spectacular job hiding it. His orders rang out clear and crisp. "Fumm, you stand watch at the palace. I assume you remember where it is?"

"Of course." Fumm nodded. Jack noted the black-haired giant seemed bored. Or distracted.

"Then off you go."

He went, and Elmont turned to face Fallon. Jack found himself holding his breath.

"Fallon, you and Foe stay here. Guard the main gate. Is that clear?"

The small head spat out a stream of incomprehensible noises that sounded vaguely like words, only hacked to pieces and put together again in the wrong order.

Elmont frowned. 'What did he say?"

A tooth poked through Fallon's lower lip as he grumbled. "He said you can kiss our giant, hairy a-"

Uh-oh. Time to act kingly. Jack was careful not to flinch, but maintained steady eye contact with the big monster as he shouted. "Enough! Fallon, do as your told!"

Fallon sniffed. "As long as that crown stays on your head, I will." He sniffed again, and Jack tried not to think about what the giant might be smelling. Fallon's eyes narrowed, pinning Jack with malevolent heat. His right hand dropped down to caress the wooden handle of his flail. The coiled links of the iron chain clinked together at his touch. "A giant's heart can't be tamed for long," he said, voice soft and deadly serious. Jack sensed Elmont as a still, tense presence beside him, but he didn't dare take his eyes off the giants. A few more seconds stretched by before Fallon's hand moved away from the flail. He grunted something unintelligible, and Foe snapped to attention. Elmont and Jack began urging their horses slowly away, backing up step by step until they were far enough that they felt it was safe to turn and put their backs to the main gate and its menacing sentries.

"Well," Elmont said, "I know a veiled threat when I hear one. Our two-headed friend is going to be trouble." He sounded exhausted.

Jack nodded. "I know, but we need them." Believe me, I wish we didn't. His whole body hurt from spending to long on horseback and his head felt ready to crack like an egg. Aside from that, he counted them all unbelievably lucky. "It went a lot better than I expected really. No one got hurt."

"Speak for yourself," Elmont grumbled, rubbing at his shoulder. "Feels like my neck broke from staring up for so long.

Jack let his mind wander, listening to his horse's hooves clicking on cobblestones as he and Elmont rode side by side to the palace. A stripe of pale pink light glowed on the horizon. Cloister would be waking up soon, which meant they needed to prepare for another day of potential mayhem. They'd spotted no dragons in the skies so far, but Jack had the sense that they were simply biding their time, resting in their hidden nests until hunger drove them out to hunt once more.

And all I really want to do is find Isabelle, hold her and tell her how sorry I am that this happened. Thinking of her reminded him of another girl, and he called over his shoulder to Elmont.

"You rode with Ana on the way back. Is she all right?"

The knight scowled. "I'm not sure about the rest of her, but her mouth works perfectly. Silly girl was asking questions about giants all the bloody way home. 'How can they live up in the sky? Why are they so big? How did that big mean one end up with two heads?' Would've driven me mad if I hadn't been halfway there already, worrying about whether those bastards were going to turn on us."

Jack laughed, then grew thoughtful. He remembered the landscape of Gantua, with its lush green forests and flowing streams. He remembered feeling like a grasshopper, jumping from one huge, unsteady wooden plank to another as he crossed the hanging bridge leading to the stronghold where Isabelle was being held prisoner. He remembered how wonderful and terrifying it all had been, and how the giants themselves, in spite of their horribleness, still felt like something out of the pages of a fairytale. "It wouldn't hurt to find out," he said, musing. "We don't know much about them, really."

Jack didn't turn to look, but the boy swore he could hear Elmont's eyes roll as the knight replied, "Something tells me that's exactly how it should be."

{O}

Jack squirmed, helpless in the giant's grasp. His little human ribs compressed as he was squeezed tighter and tighter, his pain-wracked body convulsing as it struggled to breathe. Fallon relaxed his grip just enough for the human to scream.

"No! No!" Jack's legs thrashed as he was lifted up. There was no magic bean to save him this time. All his friends were either dead or fleeing for their lives. Fallon grinned, hissing in the boy's ear, "Oh yessss," then opened his mouth wide.

His teeth bit through the first vertebrae of Jack's neck with a satisfying crunch. The rich taste of human blood spurted onto his tongue - a little too sour for his liking but made palatable by the sweetness of revenge. His jaws worked as he chewed the pulpy head slowly, drawing out the moment before he swallowed. Then he let the headless body drop to the floor of the palace. It fell like a broken doll, landed on the bare wood floor with a wet slap, blood exploding from the point of impact like juice from a popped grape.

Licking his red-smeared lips, he turned his attention to the golden princess in his other hand. Her tear-stained eyes met his, her soft, pretty face contorted with fear and grief.

"Now, Princess," he rumbled, "you're mine."

That was the fantasy that played out in glorious, vivid detail through Fallon's mind as the two-headed giant stood at his post before the main gates of Cloister. His fellow watchman, Foe, was asleep on his feet, bony knees locked tight while his head hung limply forward, chin touching chest. A thin thread of drool hung from his half-open mouth, fluttering whenever he snored. Were Fallon the one giving orders, he would've pounded the smaller giant's nose through the back of his head for sleeping on guard duty, but, under these circumstances, he let it go unpunished. In fact, falling asleep seemed rather tempting at the moment.

Jack and the Guard Captain had left them standing here all night. Now it was mid-afternoon, and here they still were, forced to stay in one place like bloody fools, while little humans with dirty faces and tattered clothes scurried through their cobbled-stone streets like rats in a warren. None of the peasants dared get too close to him, but he'd caught groups of them huddled together at a respectful distance, gawking and pointing fingers. Some of the young males even called out taunts and insults, and yet he was bound by Jack's will from eating any of the little upstarts! All he could do was stand there, snarl at everything, and contemplate the stupidity of existence.

At least it wasn't raining. He loved thunder, but he hated getting wet.

Jack. Just thinking of the boy made him want to kill something. But there was something about the farmboy that actually made him cautious for once. It wasn't just the fact that Jack had almost killed him; Fallon wanted more than anything to return the favor. It was that, through his entire adventure, Jack had been so damn lucky. Lucky to have not been taken prisoner, lucky to have found the princess, lucky to have escaped with her, and insanely lucky to have still had a bean with him when he'd needed a weapon powerful enough to hurt a giant. The boy was favored by Fate...and one who was Favored could make a very dangerous enemy indeed.

But Fate is fickle, he reminded himself. Good fortune doesn't last forever. And it takes a strong will to master the Crown.

Fallon inhaled, taking down a deep, shuddering lungfull of air that did nothing to ease the half-smothered feeling in his chest. He wondered how mankind could stand it in their world full of rank scents and unwholesome air when he could barely breathe.

Earth hadn't felt like this last time he was here. Of course, he'd been having good fun then with stomping and crushing human soldiers.

His small head began blowing bubbles as a way to entertain itself. Yet another avalanche-inducing snore issued from Foe. Fallon sighed, and his thoughts strayed, as they always did, to the Princess. She was in a class all her own; an irritating reminder of past failures and blood descendant of a hated king. Yet, when she'd been caged and at his mercy she'd shown more courage than any other human prisoner he'd interrogated. Her refusal to answer his questions was infuriating, but such bravery raised her slightly above the level of general contempt with which he regarded the rest of her kin. for such a weak little creature, she had a feisty spirit.

And worse, she smelled so damn good. Just like the girl Thunderdel had loved.

Every now and then the wind would change, bringing him good, homey scents from the mountains. Of moss-covered stones, clear running streams, and hard-packed snow. They were the same sort of smells he'd grown up with in the mountain caves of Gantua, and he ached to abandon this miserable human nest and go to them. It was maddening, being stuck to one spot, unable to leave.

Could he leave?

Only one way to find out.

He took a hesitant step forward. Nothing stopped him. No invisible barrier sprang up to stop him. No thunderbolt from the sky. So he took another step. And another. He could've laughed at what should've been so obvious. Jack hadn't been the one to give them their orders. The Guard Captain had. And if Jack wasn't close enough for the Crown to restrain some slight disobedience, then perhaps he could bend the rules a bit. Just a bit.

Foe continued to snore like a choking bear at his post. Fallon let him. Humans were pointing and screaming at him now. It was a much more agreeable sound than their laughter. Maybe he could even eat a few of them, and damn the consequences.

Then the wind changed, carrying on its back a sharp tang of green apple juice mixed with...

...with a sugary scent so familiar to him he could track it in his sleep, or even half-dead. It was close, tantalizingly close. His mouth filled with saliva as he imagined its taste. Even his small head, dullard that it was, voiced its excitement in happy little gurgles, thick-lipped mouth stretched wide in a broad grin. Yes, he thought as he stepped over groups of frightened peasants and carefully picked his way among fragile human buildings. Good fortune comes to us all, sooner or later.

With both heads wearing almost identical expressions of delight, Fallon followed his nose to the princess.

{O}

"How is Daniel?" Ana asked before biting into a green apple.

They'd found a shaded spot on a wooden bench beneath some apple trees. Isabelle picked a few bits of crumbled leaves out of her hair as she settled against the rough backrest, trying to make herself as comfortable as it was possible to get while wearing plate armor. A sword lay across her knees; not her father's massive greatsword, -it had proved to cumbersome for her to wield properly and she'd forced herself to leave it on a dais within the palace treasury, resting on a green and silver altar cloth among candles and incense until the day it could be sealed along with her father in a stone sarcophagus. The sword she had now was bound in a golden scabbard, with a topaz sparkling on its pommel. A bit too showy for her taste but Elmont had chosen it for her, and the curved, shining steel gave her a small measure of comfort, which she sorely needed.

Flowerbeds artistically arranged to soothe the eyes and mind surrounded them, displaying bunches of orange, purple, and white blossoms. It being late September most of the prettiest flowers no longer bloomed, so it was really the herbs that held sway in the garden now. Carpets of mint, angelica, and belladonna exhaled their spicy-sweet breath among the apple trees. It was rumored that the groundskeeper used hedgemagic to make her herbs grow year-round. Isabelle wasn't sure she believed it, but the garden always seemed to be full of beautiful plants, even after winter's first snowfall.

"He's hungry. The boy eats anything the cook gives him." Isabelle fixed her eyes straight ahead, watching a pair of doves splash about in a water-filled basin mounted on a silver pedestal. An angel carved in white marble spread its feathery wings in the exact center of the basin, it's serene face upturned to heaven, the stone eyes full of childlike wonder.

Mama used to love angels. The thought felt like a cold sewing needle stinging her heart.

"It's really good of you and Jack to take care of him. He told me he's an orphan." Ana finished off the apple, tossed the core into a pile of newly fallen leaves. Sunlight slanted through the trees behind them, moving in time with the wind as it shook the branches. The wide, gold-embroidered sleeve of Ana's emerald gown fell down to expose her slim wrist as she adjusted her sheaf of ribbon-bound red hair, draping it over her left shoulder. Glancing at the girl, Isabelle felt a flash of envy that her lady-in-waiting felt safe enough to stroll about in pretty dresses and jewels whereas she felt naked without her gold plate armor and weapons. Dealing with giants would make anyone a bit edgy after awhile, I suppose.

"An orphan. There seems to be a lot of them these days," Isabelle said sadly. She stroked the ornate scabbard of her sword, the tip of one nail tracing lazy spirals over its shining surface. "My Father gave his life to save that boy. It's the least we can do." Except the poor child still wakes in the night crying from nightmares of what he saw on the abbey steps. Just like me. A breeze feathered her cheek as she sighed.

I'm so tired.

Ana nudged her shoulder, the contact making a muffled clang as her elbow bumped Isabelle's plate armor. "Look," she whispered, pointing. Isabelle followed the girl's finger and saw a fluffy gray squirrel on the ground where Ana had thrown her apple core. Its tail bobbed as it crouched on all fours, wet black nose sniffing delicately at the piece of fruit. Isabelle watched it take a quick bite of its prize, then looked away.

Ana smiled as she continued to watch the squirrel, but her happiness melted away when she noticed her friend's shadowed eyes still staring down at the blade laying across her knees. "My lady, should we go back to the palace? You seem anxious." Ana asked, studying Isabelle closely.

"I can't stay in the palace forever." Isabelle sighed. I shouldn't even be out here, she thought. Not with the giants roaming around. But there isn't anywhere to get a moment's peace in the castle these days.

"We're safe here, right?" Ana asked. "It feels safe."

"Safe enough." One had to look past the rows of carefully tended trees to see the garden wall; thick, gray, crenellated stone that was meant to offer visitors privacy as well as protection. She could just make out the chiseled top of it whenever the wind blew the tangle of branches aside. It might not stop a giant, but it would certainly make it harder for one to get to them. She hoped.

They lapsed into thoughtful silence. Shadows shifted as the sun sank lower in the sky, heading inexorably westward. The doves still flapped and cooed in the water-basin at the feet of the white angel. Their playfulness managed to catch Isabelle's attention. She watched them. while still resting her hands on the scabbarded sword. Unhappy thoughts were swirling through her mind. She'd seen too much these last few days. Too much death. And having the giants returned to Earth terrified her, even if they weren't at open war with humanity. And her people were suffering every day and...

"I don't know if I can do this."

The words were out before she was aware of saying them, and Isabelle sighed miserably when Ana glanced up so quickly the braid resting on her shoulder slid off.

"What?"Ana asked, then remembered propriety. "I mean, 'What, my lady?'"

"Don't call me that!" Isabelle wanted to meld her body to the wooden bench and disappear. Her voice was rough from holding back the tears that threatened to spill out. "I didn't want it to be like this, Ana. Father's gone and the kingdom's in ruins and the giants are back and I don't know what to do!" A breeze touched her damp cheeks, cooling the heated skin. She could almost feel the touch of Ana's hand on her shoulder through the layer of golden armor, and allowed herself to lean against her friend, sniffling and wiping at her nose. "I'm not ready to be Queen!"

Ana shifted slightly, then Isabelle felt the girl's fingers in her hair, stroking gently. "You'll do fine, Princess . None of this is your fault."

'Isn't it? Everything was normal before I got myself taken up to Gantua and captured by giants!"

"That wasn't your fault either." Ana's voice was soft and kind. Like Mama's. 'And who knows! Maybe the giants will save us!"

A tear left a trail of salt down Isabelle's cheek. She scrubbed it away. "Ana, the giants aren't..."

A bird shrieked. Isabelle's eyes snapped up to see the doves abandon the water-basin in panicked flight. Around them, squirrels were shooting up into their trees, not bothering to carry any snacks back with them as their tails disappeared into hidey-holes in the bark with frightened little chirps.

And then every hair on Isabelle's nape stood on end as she heard the thump of a giant's footstep.

The princess leapt to her feet, dragged a startled Ana off the bench with her by one hand while gripping her sword in the other. In a hot heartbeat, she'd released Ana's hand and drawn the sword from its scabbard. The cool, bright length of metal glinted in the waning light. Her narrowed eyes roved, scanning the horizon intently.

Beside her, Ana stood wide-eyed, confused. "Princess?"

They shouldn't be here. Her heart beat strong and fast in her ears. They shouldn't be anywhere near the garden. She held her sword up in the guard position. The blade would be absolutely useless against a giant, but having it made her feel a little less vulnerable.

"Ana," Isabelle's voice was tight from holding down the knot of screaming panic inside her. "Run!"

The trees blocking her view of the garden wall began to shake. She caught a quick flash of a pair of all-too-familiar bald heads, and felt as though her entire body had been dipped in chilled wax.

As if it posed no obstacle in the slightest, Fallon stepped over the garden wall.

"Ana! RUN! NOW!" All thought of fighting dissipated like smoke in a strong wind as Isabelle roughly shoved the girl ahead of her. They both ran for the stone staircase that would take them out of the garden and back to the safety of the palace. There were awful sounds of things snapping and shattering behind them, and Isabelle risked a glance over her shoulder to see the white angel statue knocked off its base by a quick swipe of Fallon's claws. She could hear his footsteps bearing down on her, and had time enough to hope Ana would have the sense to keep running, get back to the palace, and find help.

And then clawed, crooked fingers wrapped around her waist. Air moved around her, crushing her shoulders down as she left the ground, her stomach rolling from dizziness mixed with the horrible feeling of being trapped in a nightmare. She was still lightheaded and gasping for breath when all movement stopped with her feet dangling over empty air and staring into the two faces of Fallon, and would've screamed if she hadn't been struggling to breathe.

"And what sweet fruit is this?" he growled. Isabelle saw that he was free of the patches of blackened skin he'd had the last time she'd seen him. That had been horrible enough at the time. But now his eyebrows were drawn close together, and the bladed edges of his cheekbones gave him a sinister look, Especially when he was leering at her the way he was now. The sort of look that told Isabelle she was in deep, deep trouble.

She wriggled in his grasp. His thumb was pressing indecently against her breasts while her left arm was trapped behind her back. Her sword hand was still free, though, and she frantically tried to hack at his fingers.

His response was a low, throaty chuckle. "None of that," he said, and his left hand darted up, thumb and forefinger wrenching the sword out of her hand as easily as picking a cherry. "I'm beginnin' to think you aren't as pleased to see me as I am to see you, Your Highness."

In spite of the terror filling her head, one small spark of defiance was just too stubborn to go out. "I wasn't expecting to meet a giant traipsing through the garden." She pushed at his fingers, squirmed against the rough calluses of his palm in an attempt to wrench her left arm free. "Put me down!"

"No," he said, and his small head squawked in assent. Breathing hard, Isabelle stopped struggling for a moment and simply looked at him. This close, she could see that his eyes weren't entirely black, as she'd thought, but storm-gray, and they were studying her face with an intensity that made her want to shrink away. "You will answer our questions."

Dear God, not again. Isabelle shuddered, and nearly dislocated her shoulder in another vain attempt to free her left arm. Her heart leapt when the tip of her index finger brushed against a hilt, and she remembered the small dagger she'd been carrying in a concealed sheath at her back. It might not do any good, but then again it might. If she could get it out...

Fallon's voice dropped to a low purr, becoming the smooth voice of an interrogator. "Where is the book?"

Isabelle squirmed, was able to get three more fingers around the hilt, but couldn't pull it out. Fallon's grip around her tightened, making her gasp."I won't tell you!" she shouted, her fear momentarily eclipsed by frustration.

"Fine, then." For once, the giant didn't sound angry. Just amused, as though that was the answer he'd been expecting and was ready for it. Isabelle felt a chill. "I suppose I'll have to persuade you, princess."

He lifted her to his mouth.

Her throat went bone-dry as her struggling, which had momentarily ceased, now renewed with a vengeance. She was so close to his face now that if she'd wanted to, she could've reached out and touched his lips. Leaning away only squeezed her trapped arm even harder, sending tingling jolts of cold numbness up her shoulder. She raised her right hand, palm out, in a futile attempt at warding off his stormy eyes and the row of white, even teeth she remembered all too clearly."You can't," she tried to twist in his grasp, but failed, "eat me!"

"Perhaps not," he hissed, bringing her even closer so that her face brushed his nose. "But I can think of more interestin' things to do with yeh than eat yeh, Your Highness." His accent was thickening, Isabelle guessed from excitement, at which possibility she finally gave in to instinct and froze, every part of her bracing for something nasty.

"What are you going to-"

The question died halfway as Fallon inhaled. hot air brushed her face, lifting up strands of her hair as the giant sniffed. He pulled on her scent, sucked it down greedily as his nose nuzzled against the curve of her throat. It almost feels like a horse's muzzle, only bigger. Oddly enough, the absurd thought comforted her, allowing her to slip into a kind of daze while staying completely still, fascinated yet fearful.

'Your scent is a rainbow of sweetness, king's daughter." His voice sounded like velvet dragged against her skin, and she ducked her head when she felt her cheeks growing warm. What in all of Albion is he doing? Shivering, she made a half-hearted shove at his nose, the pudgy tip of which rested upon her shoulder, continuing to snuffle and sniff at her hair. "And your taste..."

Whatever trance she'd been lulled into broke when he shoved her against his lips. The idea that Fallon was kissing her had barely taken shape in her numbed brain before the twin surfaces parted slightly and his tongue snaked out.

Alarm flared inside her when she realized what he was about to do. No!

It was the most disgusting indignity she'd ever had the misfortune to experience. His tongue was thick, dripping with frothy spit, and reeked of old blood and decaying meat. It slipped over her shoulder, trailed a damp line up the right side of her face, and for one mercifully brief moment covered her nose and mouth as it rested on her head. She held her breath, remained rigidly still until the pulsing warmth left her face to continue down her aching left shoulder in one languid, slimy slurp.

"...is even better." The tongue withdrew back into his mouth as he smacked his lips loudly.

"Aaaaggh!' Isabelle wiped at the trickles of yellowish spit sliding down her face. Her hair hung in sodden clumps, loose strands in front of her eyes dripped slime as though she'd been rained on. When she'd cleared the filth from her eyes, she saw the giant watching her, one corner of his mouth upturned and his eyes gleaming devilishly. He enjoyed that!

And something in her snapped.

Fear evaporated, was replaced by white-hot outrage, and despite every rational thought in Isabelle's mind screaming this is a really bad idea! she railed at Fallon with all the hell-hath-no-fury a righteously indignant princess can muster. "You...you...how dare you!" His toothy smile only got bigger. Without thinking, she balled up a fist. "You...BEAST!"

The fist flew, and made contact with the end of Fallon's hooked nose with a satisfying smack.

The giant grunted and brought a hand up to feel the bridge of his nose. Isabelle, having used the chance to vent her rage, now felt properly horrified. Crawe was butchered for less than what I just did! Fresh panic seized her,and with a titanic effort that sent ice-bolts of pain all the way up to her collarbone, wriggled her trapped left arm. The dagger was so close. She gritted her teeth, felt polished wood as her wrist touched the knifehilt, then felt her thumb and fingers close tightly around it...

She risked a furtive glance at Fallon beneath the dripping tendrils of her hair, and saw movement from his small head. The weird creature seemed to be holding back a laugh while it shot a sidelong glance at its master; a crafty, knowing smirk that reminded her for all the world of the way Wicke would look at Roderick after the countless times she'd admonished the counselor for making too free with her person.

She hated that look.

Fallon's eyes opened wide enough for all the whites to show. Mockery was heavy in the giant's voice when he spoke. "You really didn't expect that lovetap to hurt me, did you?" He brought her to his mouth again, licked his lips in anticipation of another "kiss."

With a falcon's cry of effort, Isabelle tore the knife free of its sheath and buried the blade deep as she could in the soft skin at the center of Fallon's palm.

What followed was a blur of confused impressions. Roaring, then a sense of cold air rushing in as the huge fingers released her. She fell, didn't even have time to worry about what would happen when she hit the ground before her back connected with something solid. The air rushed out of her in a huff, and she lay sprawled out, stunned and covered in flower petals. A multitude of candy-sweet scents rose around her as she tried to sit up, and some hazy part of her brain realized she'd landed in a flowerbed.

Wonderful.

Then something large moved in front of her. Her vision came back into sharp focus, revealing brown, hairy toes, and Isabelle began a mad scramble backwards to get away from those enormous feet that were far too close for her liking. Her heart felt as though it would shake her chest to pieces. Sticks and broken pieces of masonry dug painfully into her sweating palms as she dragged herself away, until her back fetched up against the base of an old, gnarled tree.

Her sword was gone, she'd played the only card she had left, and, worst of all, one look at Fallon told her he truly was angry this time.

She heard thumping footsteps, then a dark shadow fell over her. Isabelle closed her eyes as the snarling monster stooped to pick her up.

"Leave her alone!"

The voice was rough, accented, and distinctly not human. Trembling, she opened her eyes, and felt her battered mind nearly fly into pieces from the latest surprise in what was fast becoming a day of shocks. The hand that had been reaching out to snatch her was being held back by none other than Fumm. He stood beside his leader, gripping the other giant's meaty forearm so hard his knuckles appeared bruised. A low growl was coming from Fallon that sounded so angry Isabelle thought she'd never heard a sound that so perfectly matched the color of blood. They're going to fight! I have to get out of here!She tried to will her body into movement, but each of her muscles felt as tight as bowstrings about to snap. Wide-eyed, she huddled against the tree, gaping in fascinated wonder as the two giants stared hard at each other, challenging each other through their fierce eyes. Then both of Fallon's heads simultaneously bared all their teeth, made rough, strangled sounds of fury, and tore their arm free. Fumm had just a bare second to take a step back before Fallon struck him, backhanding him across the face hard enough to whip his head to one side. Fumm stumbled back, and Isabelle screamed when he started to fall.

Two benches, a marble sculpture of a lion, and a wiry birch sapling were crushed under the giant when his heavy body hit the ground. Isabelle silently thanked God that the giant hadn't fallen forward. A cloud of powdery white dust hung in the air, and through it she could see Fallon's broad back as he stalked away. Marked him as he came to the garden wall, and, instead of stepping over, simply kicked a hole right through it. For a moment, Isabelle's ears roared with the rumble of stone being smashed, then the whole garden became blessedly still and silent.

Fallon was gone.

Isabelle was vaguely aware of her whole body shaking as she lay against the tree, panting in short, shallow gasps and clutching at her chest. Her skin, still damp with Fallon's spittle, bloomed with cold whenever the wind touched it. Years seemed to have passed since the two-headed nightmare had found her, though the sun had barely moved in the sky. Isabelle flinched when a rustle from the fallen giant reminded her she wasn't alone.

Fumm lay on one side, his face already swelling into a nasty purple bruise. He grunted as she sat up, and Isabelle saw multi-colored piles of rubble beneath him, and some dazed corner of her mind noted that the groundskeeper would be in an absolute frenzy. Giants trampled the garden today. The thought made her into a short, semi-hysteria cal giggle.

"Hmm, I almost thought he was truly going to kill me that time." Fumm's tone was mild. He reached up with one hand, brushed white dust out of his hair, which frosted the black mane like sugar. His attention turned to her. "Your Highness, are you well?"

"I'm f-fine." Her voice was a tremulous croak. She studied the fallen giant like a rabbit peering out of its hole to watch a circling hawk. The last time she'd seen the black-haired warrior, he'd been fighting with Fallon over which of them had the right to eat her. It was not an encouraging thought.

There was the sound of feet running over stone, and a high, clear voice. "Princess!"

Isabelle groaned. Ana! No! Go back! it's not safe here! But the girl arrived too soon for her to shout the warning. Her green dress was torn in several places, but aside from that Isabelle was relieved to see she was unhurt. Crying, the lady-in-waiting threw her arms around her princess's shoulders. "What...what happened, Princess? Are you all right? Is-"

Isabelle hissed a warning when Fumm stretched out his long, dirty fingers, reaching for them. Ana froze, and the two girl's huddled together like frightened children beneath the swaying tree branches. Fumm pulled his hand back, and glared at the two of them with baleful eyes.

"I thought," he rumbled, "that it was customary for humans to thank those who try to help them." Isabelle studied him carefully. His mouth was turned down at the corners, his eyes were narrowed into catlike slits. He was still dangerous as a thief in a merchant's house, but there was something about him that seemed forlorn, almost resentful. "I have only helped you twice so far. Or tried to."

Isabelle blinked, feeling uncertain and more than a little confused. "You...helped me?" She scrubbed at her spit-slimed face, nervousness demanding she do something with her hands. "I...I don't..."

She was grateful when Fumm finished for her. "You do not understand, do you?"

"I'm afraid not." From beyond the garden wall, Isabelle heard the shouts of angry soldiers, She fervently hoped that Jack would be able to put a stop to Fallon before he got up to any more mischief.

Fumm inched a little closer to them. "When you were before the Gathering," he said while holding out a hand, fingers curled, "I thought if I could claim the right to eat you, I could take you away and spare you further suffering. It was the only excuse that blood-crazed rabble would've accepted. I was trying to save you the only way I could, Princess." He sighed. "And paid well for it."

She nodded, remembered the meaty thwack! when the business end of Fallon's flail connected with his face, and the snarling argument that followed. At the time, she'd been horrified by the brutality with which the giants treated even their own kind, and having spent so much effort running, hiding, or saving her kingdom from them it never occurred to her that they might know anything about kindness. "Why would you do that?"

He growled , a short, sharp noise of disapproval that was quickly cut off. "Not all of us are as stone-hearted as my elder brother, Princess," he said. There was the sound of more stone cracking as he shifted his weight slightly. "I hold no love for your kings, but neither do I care for the mistreatment of females, less so when they are helpless and unarmed."

"So, are you going to thank me?"

"Th-thank you." It sounded so inadequate that Isabelle ducked her head, unable to meet his glaring eyes. Then Ana untangled herself from around Isabelle, and, before the princess even realized what she was about to do, stood up and approached the giant. She held out a hand, and Fumm uncurled a finger to touch its very tip against her palm.

"Thank you for all you did for us."

Fumm's eyes widened. He looked as surprised as Isabelle felt.

"You're welcome."

(O)

Author's Notes: And I have FINALLY wrapped up another head-bangingly long chapter. I hope I didn't make too many mistakes. I'll confess I'm going on my own imagination for the layout of Cloister so if something seems a little off it's entirely my fault. And I found out while I was writing this that Fallon's eyes are mottled gray, not black, so gone are the days where I refer to his "glittering black eyes." And I always wondered why exactly my two favorite giants were fighting over Isabelle. Fumm struck me as, if not less vicious, then at least a little more reasonable than Fallon. So he seems to be the most likely one to have Standards that he tries, with mixed success, to uphold. if this sounds weird, it probably is. I'm just trying to give the big guys some character development.

To spice things up, I thought it would be interesting to add in some actual consequences for traveling up and down the beanstalk. There's a reason behind Fallon grumbling that he can't breathe. The larger an organism is, the more oxygen it requires. Someone Fallon's size would need an insane amount of oxygen to feel comfortable, doubly so because he has two heads. I'm assuming the oxygen level on Gantua is at least twice what it is on Earth. Actually, it should be frozen and nearly airless up there, but since this a fairytale universe we can throw logic in the dumpster and slam the lid on it. Yay!

And I've been planning for Fallon to give Isabelle a Jabba the Hutt style kiss ever since I started writing this monster. Poor girl.