Title: Seed of Darkness
Rating: T
Summary: A new threat descends upon Cloister and Jack must use the Crown of Erik to call on some unlikely allies. Fallon/Isabelle, Fumm/OC
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Some mild swearing in this chapter and one precision F-bomb strike near the end. I tried to write a shorter chapter and failed miserably, but there was a lot to get in and it's all leading up to bigger things to come.
Chapter 6: Plan
"Surely you could do this by yourself?"
Ana felt like a mouse being cajoled into the paw of a supposedly friendly cat. She kept her eyes fixed on the impossibly huge creature in front of her as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, willing herself toward the outstretched hand; a strong-fingered trap that could easily snap shut and crush her. True, this giant seemed calmer than the others - he was certainly less frightening than the wild two-headed one - but the countless warnings Princess Isabelle had given her not to trust them weren't easy to ignore.
"I could," he said, tilting his head slightly, "except I was hoping to see you again, and hoping you would take care of it for me." The enormous hand was placed palm-up on the ground before her, fingers bending inward. Each finger was tipped with a hard nail the color of old bronze, and their ragged, overgrown edges made them look bestial, clawlike.
Still, she'd been touched by one of those claws before and come away alive. And she'd seen him save the princess.
The giant Fumm crouched on the grass of the palace lawns. The fact that he was able to get this close to the home of the Princess was testament that both the Guard Captain and the new King trusted him a thimbleful more than the others, and a great deal more than the two-headed one. Tongues wagging in the palace corridors claimed that particular giant was being punished for his attack on the Princess, but how said punishment was being carried out was a mystery to her. What can we possibly do to them to qualify as punishment? We can't just spank them like children.
Ana took a deep breath, pushing away all concerns except for the task laid before her. She'd finally reached the proffered hand, just as the index finger uncurled to lay before her, nearly as long as her whole arm. A warm breeze caressed her face, blowing strands of red-golden hair into her eyes as she stole a tentative glance up at the giant. He studied her in kind, solemn and intense as a dark god. A thrill burned its way down her spine, and her breath caught at the sight of his silver armor gleaming in the noonday sun. She could see countless dents and scratches in the plating, making her wonder exactly how many battles he'd fought in. Lifting up a hand, she touched the tip of his finger, heart pounding as her own small human fingers explored around the rough edge of his nail to the leathery pad of flesh at the base.
She couldn't stop herself from flinching when he made a small movement. Dark eyes narrowed, and his mouth became a thin line. When he spoke, his voice was rough as unpolished granite.
"Have some faith in me, little one. I'm not going to eat you." His voice was tinged with resentment, bitter-sharp and hurtful. Shamed, Ana swallowed, and tried to change the subject.
"Doesn't that hurt?" she asked, pointing at his face. Where his leader had struck him, a large, dark-purple bruise swelled. Ana could almost swear there were knuckle-prints left by the other giant's hand.
"It's painful, but that is not what needs tending to." He twisted up the corners of his mouth in a manner Ana supposed was meant to convey a reassuring smile, but finished its brief existence as more of a toothy grimace. The giant's dark and brooding demeanor told her he probably had little experience with smiles. "Go ahead. Your small hands will do the trick nicely."
Surely he's joking? Ana frowned, not sure if her hands would do the trick at all. But he'd asked for her help, and she truly did want to help him.
Taking hold of the wooden shaft embedded in his fingertip with both of her small human hands, Ana gritted her teeth and pulled.
She blew out a frustrated breath. The piece of wood hadn't budged. "It's not...I can't get it!"
She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard a stifled chuckle in Fumm's gruff voice. "Pull harder. You're not going to hurt me."
If you say so, she thought wryly. The wooden spike was about as long as a short spear, and she imagined the point was just as sharp. If it had been in her body, she would've been screaming.
Bracing herself, she tried again. Her grip was steadier this time, one hand above the other as though she were swinging a forester's axe. A few more seconds of tugging passed before she felt the spike shift. The point was tearing free of the giant's tough flesh.
Fumm kept absolutely still while she worked, though blood was oozing up from the inflamed area of skin around the puncture, making Ana cast another wary glance up at him. The uneasy squirming in the pit of her stomach faded when she saw how serene he looked. The rugged lines of his face had softened and his eyes were closed, like a nobleman savoring a glass of rare and expensive wine.
Either he sensed her watching him or smelled her curiosity, but his eyes didn't open as he spoke. "It is nice to be touched by a female again. Even one as small as you." One eye cracked open, and Ana was so mesmerized by the strange beauty of his face that she didn't flinch away again when he shifted his body closer to hers. There was a whispery sound as grass was crushed flat beneath him. His brow furrowed. "What is the human word?" A pause, then both eyes opened and the creases disappeared from his brow as it came to him. "A woman." His accent rolled the word off his tongue slowly, like an unfamiliar taste.
Ana could feel her cheeks flaring up like sunspots. She was so preoccupied with trying to hide her face behind her hands that she forgot she was supposed to be pulling a splinter out of his finger - until the sight of more blood pooling out of said finger reminded her. It was an effort to peel her hands away from her face and make them lay hold of the wooden spike again. Her tingling cheeks felt naked as she stammered. "But...but surely...I mean, you must have giant women back in Gantua?" The words left her in a babbled rush. so that she felt ten times more foolish.
His sigh was the sound of wind gliding through the branches of an old, dead tree. "No, we don't. All the women of our kind died. Killed centuries ago in a war."
"Oh." Ana swallowed, unsure of what to say. Her hands felt clumsy as they worked the massive spike out of his finger. She'd listened raptly to everything the Princess had said about her time in Gantua. Not once had she mentioned seeing any female giants, and the one time Ana had grown bold enough to point it out Isabelle had simply shrugged. I was too busy trying to stay alive to wonder where all the giantesses were, Ana.
Ana bit her lip. Say something! "It must be terribly lonely without them."
"We have long since hardened our hearts to it." His somber tone grew even softer. "Most of us, anyway."
Ana's own heart was pounding inside her chest like a hammer. Once again the splinter shifted in her hands. There was resistance, like pulling a stick out of thick mud, then even that was gone and the thing came out so fast she nearly fell backwards. Catching her balance in time, she managed to turn the stumble into a victory pose, raising the spear-splinter above her head triumphantly.
"Well done." Fumm took his hand back, examined it. Sniffed the blood at the end of his finger, then wiped it off in the grass. Ana eyed him, uncertain of what to do now that her task was accomplished and she was left standing dangerously close to a being several times her size. "I...I guess I'll get rid of this," she said, glancing down at the piece of wood in her hands. The ragged point was still warm and wet with Fumm's blood.
"Give it to me," he ordered. She held it out to him, cradling it like a fighting staff in both hands. He reached down and, with exquisite care, pinched it out of her hands with his thumb and forefinger. Spent a few seconds glaring at it with such hard-faced venom that Ana took a shaky step back, then there was a sharp crack as he snapped it in two.
Ana stared, wide-eyed. He looked so satisfied at its destruction. "You claimed it wasn't hurting you," she said, then bit her lip. Did I just call him a liar? He'll tear me limb from limb! He'll-
"I imagined it to be my elder brother's spine," he said. Like it was obvious.
She blinked, unsure if he was being serious or not. But she couldn't stop the nervous little laugh from bursting out of her like a hiccup. Fumm heard it, and it seemed to please him. He leaned even closer, covering her in his shadow, and gently cupped a hand around her back. She could feel pads of thick, battle-roughened skin through the material of her dress, and without thinking leaned into it.
Then he stiffened, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air like a hound. She couldn't stifle the frightened little sound she made when his eyes filled with rage, and he snarled.
"Get down," he said, adding emphasis by actually laying two fingers on her back and pushing her to the ground. Then he whirled around, took up a kneeling position with one knee planted solidly on the ground, angling his upper body to get a better view of the sky. Ana lay facedown in the grass, too frightened to look up and see what had gotten his attention and not needing to, because an instinctive part of her brain already knew what it was.
A predator. A big one.
"Dragon." Fumm growled the word with an odd mixture of reverence and loathing. Ana felt cold air wash over her body as a winged shadow passed overhead. Her nape tingled, the hairs standing on end. It wasn't long before the skincrawling sensation of being watched by something alien and hungry became too much. Feeling like a rabbit peeking out of its hole, she raised her eyes skyward while staying as flat as possible.
It was circling them like a carrion bird, streamlined and deadly. Backlit by the sun's rays, it appeared mostly black, with occasional darts of green light glinting off barbed scales. Her eyes flicked to Fumm, still crouched like a cat about to spring, and she saw he was holding what appeared to be a forked tree branch, thrusting it like a shield between him and his enemy. Then the flying monster veered sharply to the left, causing Fumm to turn slightly to keep it in sight. His shadow fell across her, and she was finally able to get a good look at the thing in his hands.
A slingshot, of the sort some hunters used to kill deer, only crafted to fit his huge hands. A small stone - small by his standards - was placed in a metal cup attached by bands of stretched rawhide to the crux of the sling. And she couldn't hold back the gasp when she saw the small skull fixed at the juncture of twin pieces of gnarled, ancient material, and realized Fumm was holding a weapon fashioned from mummified human bones.
Nausea threatened to creep back into her, but she didn't dare move away from the giant, who continued to track the dragon while shielding her with his body. One hand drew back the rawhide bands, and Fumm squinted. Ana held her breath, waiting for the snap and crack of the stone being released.
A screech like the sound of metal being twisted and bent lashed her ears. Crying out, she covered her head and squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the imminent carnage. Wind ruffled her hair and threw leaves and twigs in her face as the creature brought down its wings in a single powerful flap, then the screeching faded, was drawn away like a burning thread of sound until it disappeared completely. Silence covered everything, unsettling in its sharpness. Pulling her shaking hands away from her ears, Ana opened her eyes.
Fumm was still scanning the skies, but his posture was no longer rigid and he'd lost the look of a wary hunter. Ana let out the breath she'd been holding, tried to get the tremors in her arms and legs under control as she tipped her head back, seeing nothing overhead but blue, clear sky. She raised herself to her knees, wanting to stand but unsure if her legs would support her. One hand crept to her chest, covering her frantic heartbeat like a shield while her eyes stayed fixed on Fumm. He was lowering the sling, easing it down bit by bit until it dangled in his left hand. The boulder still remained in the metal cup, unfired. His massive chest rose and fell as he sighed.
"It is gone." His voice was a low, throaty growl. "How disappointing." His upper lip curled in a frustrated snarl that vanished when his eyes met hers. The Princess says they can smell fear. It wasn't a comforting thought, considering her whole body was sweat-streaked and trembling. His eyes never left hers as his nimble fingers removed the boulder-sized stone from the sling and dropped it into a pouch at his hip.
"Are you hurt?" His voice was mellow, hiding any trace of the animalistic rage he'd shown earlier.
"I-I'm fine." It was true enough. She wasn't bleeding, cut open, or missing any limbs. Inside, however, every muscle was taut and quivering, torn between wanting to bolt or remaining perfectly still. Fumm studied her, his round face expressionless as a stone. Then, with calculated slowness, he moved toward her.
Her muscles locked down, smothering the flinch before it became too obvious. But one sniff seemed to tell the giant everything he needed to know about her emotional state.
A cold, deadly-honest voice floated up from inside her. You can't deny you're afraid of him.
Glancing down at the sling, his eyes widened as comprehension struck him. He quickly reattached the weapon to the loop at his belt, but not before the ornamental skull melded to the slingshot seemed to wink at her.
A cold, clear, rational voice whispered to her. He's a monster.
Another voice, small and hesitant, fought back. But he just saved me!
"What the bloody hell is going on?" The bold shout sliced through the tension in the air along with the confusion inside her own head. Ana breathed a relieved sigh to see the Guard Captain striding toward them, accompanied by several armed Guardians.
Her relief quickly turned to worry when she saw the stormy look on his face.
"Ana, girl, what are you doing out here? I told you to stay with the princess!"
"She is blameless." A low note of warning thrummed beneath Fumm's words. Several of the Guardians shuffled their feet nervously, not going for their weapons but clearly wanting to. Fumm's shadow covered them all, and Ana felt a guilty sort of relief that the black-haired behemoth had just vouched for her. The nervous tic below the Captain's right eye coupled with his uncombed, spiked-up hair gave him the harried look of a man who was having an exceptionally bad day and wanted to spread the misery around. A lot.
Leaning back, he shouted up to the giant. "Did you see?"
"Yes," Fumm said, understanding instantly what the knight was referring to. "Just one."
"He brought a few friends, then," Elmont shouted back. The strain in his voice was evident. "We have bloody dragons popping up in the skies all over Cloister!"
Fumm nodded. "Where is the King?"
"Babysitting." There was an instant where Ana saw Fumm take on the same look of befuddled confusion that must've been on her own face, but it quickly smoothed away into his usual stony mask. Then Elmont grinned, and made a sweeping gesture for the Guardians and giant to follow him. "Let's go relieve him of his grim duty, shall we?"
{O}
Jack had known some very unpleasant people in his life. His Uncle, while the dear old man did have his moments of kindness and general humanity, was as prickly as a porcupine wearing steel-tipped quills most of the time. He'd given Wicke a wide berth, avoiding contact with the strange little man as much as possible while clambering up the beanstalk. Some internal light in his shifty eyes had warned of pure, undiluted craziness within, a suspicion that had grown steadily once loyal men climbing up with them had started disappearing. And Roderick, well, Jack hadn't been at all surprised after they'd escaped the Cook and Elmont told him the story of the counselor's betrayal.
No, Jack was no stranger to unpleasant people. However, the giant he was currently given the unfortunate task of watching outshone them all with his affinity for being rude, insensitive, and just plain mean.
"Would you foul-smelling, maggot-sucking little piece of sheep shit LEAVE US ALONE!" Fallon's irate shout sent yet another multicolored cloud of birds fluttering out of their trees into the sky, squawking and screeching. It was only the sixth time today. Jack massaged his throbbing temples, wondering if there'd ever been a day in his long life when the two-headed monster hadn't seemed completely insane. The small head hissed, baring its teeth while Fallon finished his rant. "Toothless coward! Do you have another bean for us to swallow, or simply plan to torture us to death with your annoying presence?"
Jack had to steady himself against the stone rampart as he fought down another wave of gut-twisting vertigo. Standing on top of the city wall gave him the advantage of being almost at eye-level with the giant. It also meant that all of Cloister lay spread out like a tablecloth beneath him, giving him a sweeping view that, while breathtaking, was not agreeable to his feet. "You expect me to let you out of my sight after that stunt you pulled with Isabelle?" Placing both hands on the rampart, Jack let his hatred of the giant fuel his courage. He didn't dare show any weakness in front of Fallon, even if his dizzy head felt like it was about to topple off his shoulders. "And you dare speak to your King this way?"
"I can speak to you anyway I like." The giant crossed both arms over his wide chest. His cheekbones stood out sharply while three horizontal creases appeared in his forehead. He looked the same way when he killed Crawe. Jack threw that less-than-pleasant thought from his mind quickly, feeling as though he'd just found a frog in his bowl of breakfast porridge after he'd already eaten a spoonful. "The Crown doesn't own my soul," Fallon said, giving Jack a scalding glare before starting to pace like a caged lion.
Jack shot back. "Really? I didn't think you had one."
"You know nothing, you insignificant pest. You-" Fallon's latest insult was cut off mid-snarl by the pitiful, high-pitched squeals of animals in pain. Jack groaned. glancing over to see Foe trudging up, clutching a fistful of pink, plump-bellied pigs. Terrified, the poor things were a writhing mass of hooves, snouts, and tails in the giant's grasp. Guilt tore at him and Jack had to look away when Foe brought his free hand up, selected a pig, and popped the whole animal into his mouth like a sugarcube. Its curly tail gave one last wiggle before it was sucked between the giant's teeth.
Jack sighed. We have to feed them something.
It was small consolation that Jack's tender head was granted a momentary respite as Foe became the target for Fallon's yells. The larger giant stopped pacing long enough to round on his brother. "Silence those things before I do it for you!" Fallon said, glaring at the pigs. The small head stuck out its tongue and mewled like a wounded dog. Jack and Elmont had debated, and decided part of Fallon's punishment would be a decrease in his share of livestock to munch on. There was no doubt hunger played a role in the beast's foul mood, though Jack suspected he'd be just as cranky on a full stomach.
With a disgusted grunt, Fallon turned his attention back to Jack, who steeled himself for yet more abuse. "Now then, little whelp. What were you sayin' about my soul?"
"Only a soulless monster would try to kill the Princess of Cloister. She'd never done anything to you in her life." Jack said, meaning every word. You don't treat a lady like that, you freak!
Fallon snorted. "She did this to me not three days ago," he said, opening his right hand. In the center of his meaty palm was a dark scab, a blood-crusted reminder of where Isabelle's knife had struck home. Jack felt a flash of intense pride in his fiancee. "And her ancestor hunted my kind, cut out our hearts, and made a magic crown to enslave us." The corner of Fallon's mouth twisted up in an ugly grimace. A tense silence fell between them, broken only by small bones being crunched as Foe finished off his lunch of live pork.
Jack wasn't sure if it was courage or his stubborn determination to defend the princess that made him blurt out, "You used that selfsame Crown on your own people."
The giant actually looked shocked. He gaped for an entire second before snapping back. "That was different!"
"Was it?"
There was a second of ringing silence in which Jack wondered IF he'd gone too far. Fallon's fists clenched tightly enough to crush diamonds, and his face grew so red Jack was almost certain the hulking monster was about to lose it and attack him. Even the small head looked worried; its mouth formed a perfect O while its droopy eyes bulged so wide they appeared ready to fly out of their sockets. Then the thick tension in the air was torn by a low, jagged growl that steadily increased in volume, until Jack found himself blasted with a rapid-fire string of weird, consonant-heavy words that he assumed to be Gantish curses. The farmboy listened, fascinated despite himself. The deluge of indecipherable profanity lasted for a full five minutes, hitting a crescendo when Foe nearly choked on his last pig and Jack had to dive for cover behind a pillar of stone. Mounted on the wall to provide shields for archers, the thick merlons now served to deflect flying spittle from one seriously brassed-off giant. Jack huddled, pressed his back against the cold stone, and waited for Fallon to calm down.
He expected to be in for a long wait. And probably would've been, if a winged shadow hadn't chosen that moment to blot out the sun. Wind teased and tore at Jack's brown coat, gusted up his sleeves to raise goosebumps along his arms, and a chill tickled cold fingers down his spine when he realized that being on top of the wall put him within easy reach of a dragon's claws.
It was a small blessing when the cursing stopped. "FINALLY!" Fallon roared, and Jack had to slap his hands over his ears. Maybe I'm hearing things, but he actually sounds happy for once. He'd scarcely finished the thought before the dragon swooped down out of the clouds, coming so low that Jack could see the light green scales of its underbelly. Its forelegs were curled close to its sides, while its whip of a tail slashed the air as it angled to pass right over them.
Jack peered out from behind the stone to see Fallon crouched, a ferocious grin on one face and a silly, babyish smile on the other. Foe stood beside him, hefting a sword in both giant hands. The bright steel of their armor darkened as the dragon passed above them, silent as a cloud. Then Fallon moved, and Jack had barely enough time to bite off a curse of his own before throwing himself behind the pillar again, miserably certain of what the crazy freak was about to do.
Wind whistled as the flail's gargoyle face cleaved a path through the air. The dragon screeched, a terrible, high-pitched keening as of iron-dipped teeth grinding together. Covering his ears, Jack craned his neck to see the dragon shoot into the sky above them. It climbed higher and higher, becoming a speck of darkness before disappearing within a mass of innocently white clouds.
"AAAAARRRRR!" Fallon's frustrated roar caused little bits of stone around Jack's feet to jump and rattle like knucklebones. Jack's eardrums rang. How can giants stand each others shouting? His hands shook as he slowly uncovered his ears. A muddle of warped sound greeted him. Thumps of very large things moving. Metal crashing against metal. He sat perfectly still, listening, then heaved the biggest sigh of relief human lungs could manage when the distortion cleared enough for him to make out a jumble of familiar and welcome sounds: human voices.
One voice in particular shouted above the rest, carrying an undercurrent of tightly controlled anger. Jack winced. Elmont never spoke that way except in the direst of circumstances, usually when someone was about to die. "Fallon, put that damn thing away before you hurt someone!"
"I WANT to hurt someone, you fool!"
Sighing, Jack stood up and glared at Fallon. The giant stood with his legs spread apart, gripping the wooden shaft of his flail in both hands. The metal ball dangled quiescent at the end of its chain, the iron links jangling from unspent tension. Dust swirled in the air up to the giant's knees, and Jack decided he didn't want to know how many buildings had been smashed while his back was turned.
"Calm down, Fallon." If you can, he silently added. "Elmont, what's going on?"
"The wyrms have returned," Fumm rasped as he emerged from a dust cloud. He eyed Fallon, clearly wary of the big giant's temper. Fallon turned, locked eyes with his brother. The two exchanged a long, meaningful look, and Jack got the impression that some sort of truce was agreed upon between them, however temporary and fragile.
"Why don't they attack," Elmont asked, letting his hand drop to the reassuring hilt of the sword at his waist, "instead of circling over our heads like buzzards?"
"Because we're here, little man." Fallon didn't bother to hide his sneer. He'd relaxed from his fighting stance and was glaring down upon the knight, seeming to have forgotten Jack. Or was intentionally ignoring him. "They know better than to attack five armed Gantuans while they're still young little snakes."
Elmont fumed. "So, they'll just wait till you lot are gone, then come back and kill us all?"
"Yes."
"We need to get them on the ground," Fumm said, quickly cutting through the flammable atmosphere between Elmont and Fallon. A bit of tact for which Jack found himself grateful. "They're easiest killed when they're on the ground."
"I know how to lure them down." It was then that Fallon turned his full attention on Jack, and his thin-lipped smile chilled the farmboy all the way to his toes. The small head winked and made a noise like a demonic little giggle.
"We use bait."
[O}
Isabelle found herself drawn to the book again.
The walls of her bedchamber felt deceptively safe. Sequestered high up in one of the palace's many towers, she was almost as far removed from Earth as she'd been wandering wide-eyed through the forests of Gantua. Wool blankets spread across her bed provided warmth and softness. On exceptionally cold nights, a small fireplace could be lighted for extra comfort. Most useful of all, she would be able to look out her wide window and see any advancing armies, be they giant, dragon, or worst of all, human.
Feeling safe and being safe are two very different things. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth as she traced the book's strange cover with one fingertip. I'm not safe at all.
She'd learned that lesson in a garden, laying in a crushed flowerbed with an angry giant towering over her. Once she'd made it back to the palace, Jack and Elmont caught up with her and demanded to know what had happened. With the gardens in shambles she'd had no choice but to confess the entire incident, and the reactions of her two champions went exactly as she'd predicted. Elmont had been livid. Jack had been guilt-ridden. And she'd been confined to the palace again, with Elmont threatening - only half-jokingly, she was sure - to lock her in the dungeon if she went out again without an armed escort.
So here she was, sent to her room like a misbehaving child, with only the secret words in a dead woman's journal for company.
Sighing, she settled herself into the goosefeather-cushioned chair she'd dragged before the window and opened the small book to a random page. The runic alphabet looked almost wholly alien, but dotted with enough curves, angles, and shapes that felt so almost-familiar they manifested as an itch in the back of her brain. The pain blossoming behind her eyes told her dwelling on the undecipherable words for much longer might drive her mad. Can't have that, she thought wearily. But her curiosity about the book wouldn't let her put it away.
The woman who wrote this had been a giant's prisoner. Or perhaps more than a prisoner. Isabelle swallowed around the stone lodged in her throat, fighting down black, hellish memories of cages and carving knives. The idea of a human woman surviving among a throng of fleshhungry giants seemed ludicrous after what she herself had been through. They're the cruelest monsters imaginable. And aren't their hearts supposed to be cut from stone?
Weak sunlight fell upon the armrests of the chair as she turned more pages, stopping when she came to a drawing she hadn't seen before. So crude it looked like it had been done in great haste, it was still possible to pick out details, and Isabelle's eyes widened at the image of the three giants. Swathed in fraying, tattered black robes and clutching staves of gleaming bone, the giant trio appeared stooped and bowlegged as though they were sickened or very old. Silvery hair shading to black near the roots billowed around their gaunt shoulders, and the twin swellings on their chests marked these giants as possible females. Though they certainly wouldn't win any prizes, Isabelle thought wryly. Hags of the first order, Elmont would call them. Of their faces not much could be seen, save the jewel-like, glaring eye set deep into the middle of each monster's forehead.
One-eyed giants. Isabelle let her breath out in a long slow exhale. Why am I not surprised?
She flipped to the last page. Nothing there but more cryptic writing, which was smeared and blotted by yellowing water stains, possibly raindrops.
Or tears, supplied an uneasy little voice in her mind.
A knock on the door made her jump. Silk rustled around her knees as she hastily smoothed her dress down. "Come in."
The ornate wood door was cautiously pushed open. Anastasa stood on the threshold with both hands clasped over her belly , and Isabelle did a double take when she saw what a state the girl was in. The blue satin dress Isabelle had given her was torn and caked with mud. Tangled and filthy, her hair lay plastered to the left side of her face, the bright flame of its color muted to a dirty brown. The girl bowed her head, her cheeks growing crimson while her green eyes peered at Isabelle beneath lowered lashes.
Isabelle laid the book aside and was on her feet at once. "Ana, what happened to you?"
Her voice was quiet, unassuming. "The Guard Captain and The King wish to speak with you, milady." Dropped her eyes to stare down at the floor. "It's urgent."
Indeed, it must be. "Well, let them in, then!"
Ana stepped to one side. Taking their cue, Jack and Elmont crowded into the room. Both of them were as disheveled and dirty as poor Ana.
Isabelle was starting to get a very bad feeling about this.
"We have...a situation," Elmont began. He stood ramrod straight, his ice-blue eyes scanning the room for danger. A trained habit.
"What's the latest terrible thing that's happened?" She couldn't hide the trace of weary defeat in her voice. A slice of evening sunlight filtered through the window to touch her shoulders and back with warmth. She barely noticed.
"The dragons are back," Elmont said. "But we can't do anything about it."
"What?" A fierce itch made its way like slow-burning fire up her arms. Scar tissue from where the dragon's blood marked her was waking up, responding to her fear. "Aren't the giants helping? I know bringing them here was a fool's gamble, but-"
Elmont raised a hand, cutting her off. "Oh, they're helping," he said. "They're helping so well the dragons don't want to fight."
"Well, that's good, isn't it?"
"No, it's not." He sighed. Beside him, Jack fidgeted, occasionally scuffing a boot toe over the polished wooden floor. It was a sign he was exceptionally nervous. Elmont laid a hand on the boy's shoulder to steady him. "Dragons are patient creatures. They'll simply wait until the giants are gone before coming back to feed again. Or they may start attacking other kingdoms."
Isabelle shuddered. Other kingdoms? More innocent people suffering? "What can we do, then?" she asked, laying a hand over her dry throat.
Elmont opened his mouth, then closed it. He did this several times, until Isabelle couldn't take it anymore. "Just say what you mean to say, Elmont!"
It was Jack who spoke up. "Fallon has an idea. Of a sort." The farmboy's shoulders sagged, his head drooped, and he looked so profoundly unhappy Isabelle was tempted to hug him in front of everyone.
"He suggested we use bait," Elmont said, sounding as though he loathed every word.
Dark suspicion crept through her mind like glacial ice, silent and unshakable. "He means me, doesn't he?"
"No dragon can resist a princess once she's trussed up and ready to be sacrificed." Elmont clenched his fists for just the barest moment. "Those were his exact words. More or less."
Isabelle nodded. She could just imagine the malicious gleam in both sets of Fallon's cloudy-gray eyes. No doubt the giant was still angry with her for stabbing him in the hand and wanted to settle the score between them. Silence filled the room as Isabelle hid her face in her hands. Outside the window, a bird twittered as strong winds carried it past her tower.
It must be wonderful to have wings. The cheerless thought made her shiver.
Behind her closed eyelids, her father's face took shape. Kind, old, and completely undeserving of the gruesome fate that had come to him, along with every other man, woman, and child who had ended their lives as a dragon's dinner. She remembered the absolute terror she'd felt when Fallon had tried to eat her. Now, that same terror was laid upon Cloister tenfold. Her kingdom, her people, needed her to stand and fight.
And she would not fail them.
Isabelle let out the breath she'd been holding as she slowly lowered her hands. "All right. I'll do it, then."
In the space of five seconds, Elmont seemed to age ten years. "I was afraid you'd say that." His mouth set in a grim line. "Your father entrusted me with your care."
"And me!" Jack shouted, and Isabelle's heart nearly broke to see anguish and fear stamped on his face as clearly as a royal seal. Oh, my prince. I'm so sorry.
"I want to do this! If we can kill at least one dragon, then it's worth the risk. For the last time, I'm not some fragile, helpless creature!" Her frustrated shout surprised everyone, including herself. She ducked her head, ashamed. They were good men, both of them. She shouldn't be shouting at them. But the urgency she felt just wouldn't go away.
"I never said you were," Elmont sighed. He ran a hand through his spiky hair. "Best do it sooner rather than later then. Give me less time to drive myself into the madhouse worrying." He executed a military-precise turn, then looked over his shoulder. "Jack?"
Jack stayed where he was. He fixed his liquid brown eyes on her own, held them. Stepping forward, he cupped her chin in his hand. "Even as King, I suppose I can't order you not to do this?" His voice was rough, like his throat was sanded raw.
She sent every ounce of determination she felt through her eyes. "I will be Queen, if we survive long enough to get married. So, no." She gave him a sad, rueful little smile. "I'll be fine."
"You had better be." He gently released her chin, taking time to trail a few fingertips over the vulnerable softness of her throat. He strode back to Elmont, stopping only once to call over his shoulder without looking back. "Ana will have to get you ready. Fallon said you needed to look your best." Bitterness etched every word with hard, jagged edges, and Isabelle felt a flash of worry that Jack would do something rash and incur even more bad blood between him and the leader of the giant race. If such a thing were possible, she thought, shaking her head. I've seen cows and butchers who got along better than those two.
He pulled the door shut behind him, and left a numb Isabelle standing in the middle of absolute silence. Her arms hung limply at her sides and the feeling of being utterly, utterly alone crept over her like thick molten iron. Lifting a hand, she rubbed at the tightness behind her eyes, flicked a few loose strands of hair out of her face. I should probably tie it back, she thought, then burst out into a half-panicked little giggle. Worrying about my appearance when I'm going off to be eaten by dragons? What a vain little princess I am!
"Milady?"
Isabelle nearly jumped out of her skin at Ana's hesitant little voice. Her eyes darted around the room until she found the girl standing before the wide closet doors. Willow-thin and pale, her lady-in-waiting looked as frail as spider silk in her tattered blue dress. "I must get you ready."
"Let me see to you first," Isabelle said, taking one of Ana's dirt-caked hands in her own, "What happened to you? I thought you were still in the palace!"
"I was, princess, but..." Ana ducked her head, unable to meet Isabelle's searching eyes. "I was called out."
"By whom?"
Ana's chest heaved as she took a deep, shuddering breath. "By the giant, milady. Fumm."
"Fumm?" Isabelle shouted, then wished she hadn't. Ana flinched, and tried to pull her hand back as though she were afraid of losing it. Isabelle counted to five before speaking again. "Did he attack you? I told you they're dangerous!"
"No. No. He didn't hurt me at all." Ana actually sounded defensive now. She tugged her hand free of Isabelle's grasp. Surprised, the princess let it go. "He saved me from a dragon."
Isabelle blinked. "What?"
"He was nothing but kind to me, Isabelle." Ana lifted her head again. Met Isabelle's eyes, and the princess was shocked by how fierce they looked. In the time she'd known the jewelry-maker's daughter, there'd never been a moment where the shy girl had acted as though she might be up for a fight."Don't laugh butI think...I think he fancies me."
Isabelle said nothing. It was just like Ana to want to believe that the giants weren't truly evil. But in her time on Gantua, she hadn't me a single one of their large breed who'd treated her with any sort of compassion. Do they even regard us as equals? The Cook certainly hadn't regarded her as anything other than an appetizer, whereas Fallon regarded her as...something. She wasn't sure what to make of the big brute's attention.
Still, Fumm had put himself between her and Fallon in the garden. And he'd tried to save her on Gantua, if she could believe his claims.
But he'd also led the attack on Cloister after their King had fallen. And his eyes had appeared totally empty when he'd brought her to Fallon for interrogations.
"I believe I'm a bit too biased to judge, Ana." Crossing her arms over her chest, Isabelle fixed her lady-in-waiting with a level stare. "The question is, what do you think of him?"
"I don't know, princess." Ana's voice quavered a little. Her green eyes were big, bright, and vulnerable. "I don't think he intends to frighten me but he does. Sometimes."
"Don't they all?" Isabelle sighed. She'd have to sort this mess out later. There was no time for it now. "Just be careful, Ana. Please."
It was almost a shock when Ana flung her arms around Isabelle's shoulders with such force that the princess nearly stumbled back. Isabelle returned the hug, not caring about the grime she got on her fingers. It would all be washed off soon enough."You too, Isabelle," Ana said, whispering against her friend's neck. "You're the best friend I ever had."
The princess smiled sadly. Oh, Ana. You could do better. "I'll do my best." She studied the open closet, with its row of spectacular dresses hanging like gaudy marching banners. "Fetch us a water basin, then. Let's make ourselves presentable."
{O}
It was early evening by the time everything was ready. Isabelle strolled through the tall grass flowing like emerald green waves over the hillside, her gold dress swishing around her ankles. She felt slightly ridiculous wearing a crown of rosebuds tied together with pearls and white lilies, but Ana had insisted that it would make her even more lovely and, besides, it was an accessory she'd been wanting to make for a long time now. So Isabelle had resolutely allowed herself to be clothed in golden silk and flowery, handcrafted jewelry, grimacing at every painful knot of the corset as Ana tied it around her waist. It all seemed to be beautiful enough, since Jack had gaped openly when she'd come down the stairs to meet him, whereas Elmont had stifled a cough behind his hand, then looked away.
The ride out to the foothills of the mountains had taken less time than she'd expected. It was all green hills sprinkled here and there by shrubbery, until the land steepened and transitioned into pine forest. Beyond that, the Giant's Teeth loomed like gray sentinels, their snow-crusted peaks reflecting wan evening light.
Four giants were milling around near the treeline. Fee, Fye, Foe, and Fumm, but no sign of Fallon. She suspected Jack had sent him off on some errand. She'd been uncomfortably aware of him trailing their small party as they rode out of Cloister. His arms had been full of heavy iron chains. It had been impossible to ignore all the jangling and clattering, combined with Fallon's grumbled curses whenever a swinging chain would hit him in the thigh. She'd had absolutely no contact with the two-headed monster since their little encounter in the garden, and wished it could remain so.
That wish, she was unpleasantly aware, wasn't about to come true.
There came the rustle of boots wading through the grass behind her, then a rough hand fell upon her shoulder. "Nervous?" Elmont asked.
"Terrified." A glance at the knight convinced Isabelle that the feeling was shared. The lines of Elmont's face were taut and set. His blue eyes were constantly roaming, noting positions, angles, possible dangers. But they fixed with greatest intensity upon her.
"You don't have to do this."
She raised a hand, stopping him. "Yes, I do. And you know it."
He nodded, letting out a long, weary sigh. "All right. When Fallon gets here, we can get you secured."
"Secured?" Isabelle asked, one eyebrow lifting. Then she remembered all the chains Fallon had been carrying, and a nasty suspicion began to grow as to what they were for.
Her mouth opened, but the question died on her lips when she heard a giant's heavy feet stomping her way, coupled by the frustrated shouts of a certain farmboy.
"Careful with that thing, you freak!"
"Be a thousand times grateful we don't drop it on your lackwitted head, boy!"
"Slow down! Some of us don't have legs as big as ox carts!"
"You think we care, you little gnat!"
The princess almost smiled. They're at it again.
Isabelle and Elmont turned to face the direction from whence the thumping footsteps came, just as Fallon crested the summit of a nearby hill and started down its green slope toward them, his arms cradling something round and gray. He was walking slowly enough so that Jack could almost keep pace alongside him. Even so, the farmboy found himself having to run in short spurts to keep from falling behind the giant's long strides. Fallon seemed to grow larger as the distance shrank between them, and once again Isabelle had to fight down the temptation to run like mad. Elmont stood beside her, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Fallon crossed a space in moments that would've taken a human much longer. Jack was still struggling to catch up when the giant stopped. Isabelle had to crane her neck to look up at him, and fancied that his swirly gray eyes met her own. Her heart began to twitch like a wounded spider in her chest.
"I bring you a gift, princess!" Fallon rumbled, sounding ever so pleased with himself. He stooped, and carefully laid the thing he'd been carrying on the ground before them.
It was a massive rock. Slate-gray and eroded to a near-perfect oval, it would've taken ten strong men to haul it down from the mountains. Isabelle's eyes darted from the rock back to Fallon, who'd crossed his arms and was staring down at her with a cruel little smile. The second head made a little garbled squeak as its wide eyes rolled in their sockets.
"What's it for?" Isabelle asked, though she was afraid she already knew.
"Simple," Fallon said happily. "We chain you to it and leave you for the beasts." The sarcasm infused into the last word convinced Isabelle that the giant hadn't forgotten or forgiven her insolent outburst after he'd given her that disgusting kiss in the garden. You beast! she'd screamed at him.
"It's the safest way, Isabelle." Elmont came around to face her, simultaneously placing himself between her and Fallon. "The stone's too big for any dragon to carry off. They'll have to land if they want to...get close to you." He swallowed hard, and Isabelle felt a surge of affection for him. Oh Elmont. You couldn't bring yourself to say the words "eat you."
From high above them came a derisive snort. "Oh, have no fear, princess! No dragon will get close enough to take a bite of you. I'm the only one who has that right!"
"Not while I'm around!" Jack shouted, finally catching up to them. He was panting and clutching at a stitch in his side. Even so, he still managed to wheeze out a Command. "Go get the chains, Fallon. Now."
Warm gold pulsed as the Crown of Erik enforced Jack's words. A low, angry growl drifted down to them, then Fallon stepped world seemed to grow lighter when they were no longer in his shadow. Isabelle glanced up, scanning the heavens anxiously. A line of clouds hung in the west, tinted orange-yellow by the sun's rays. More clouds were dispersed like cottonwood seeds, floating serenely through a deep-purple sky.
She turned back to Jack, who was still trying to catch his breath.
Elmont went over to offer him assistance. "Hullo there, Jack! Are you all right? Not so easy following in the footsteps of a giant, is it?"
Isabelle rolled her eyes at the horrid joke. Jack coughed and threw a mock punch at the knight's chest. And for a moment Isabelle felt as close to the two of them as she had been on Gantua, where they'd all barely known each other yet risked life and limb to pull each other out of danger. She'd trusted these men with her life, and was about to do so again.
Mama always wanted me to have adventures. The thought was sweet pain, like sugar poured into a rotting tooth.
I think I'm about to go on another one.
{O}
"Are you comfortable?"
"That's an odd question to ask someone chained to a rock," Isabelle smiled at her fiance, a tight, nervous little twitch of her lips. "But, yes, I am."
It wasn't true, of course. Iron manacles were digging into her wrists, chains looped around her legs and waist like thick metal snakes, and her back was pressed tight against the boulder's unforgivably hard surface. Fallon had helped put the finishing touches on the knots, and she wondered if he'd tightened them on purpose. Her gold dress offered her skin little protection, and every time she moved it felt as though she was being scraped raw.
"We'll be watching everything," Jack said. His mop of brown hair fell into his face, shielding his eyes. Elmont was waiting with the giants near the treeline. The knight was motioning for him to come away, but Jack either didn't see or was ignoring him. "Everything will be all right, I promise." He leaned in close enough that she could feel his chest against hers, and then their lips met. It was a tender, almost chaste kiss that only took a moment, but it seemed to last far longer, and when they finally separated Isabelle caught a glimpse of Fallon from over Jack's shoulder. With his back to the forest, the giant wasn't close enough to loom over them, but she could still see his face. His scowling, snarling, at-the-end-of-his-patience face.
"Get over here, you fool," Fallon growled through clenched teeth, his lips barely moving. The small head let out a harsh, birdlike caw for emphasis.
Jack sighed, spared one final, apologetic look at Isabelle, then waded through the grass to where Elmont and the giants stood. Fallon glared icily down on him, until Jack raised his head and issued another Command.
"Go!"
As one, the giants began to slip amongst the huge trees, pushing smaller ones aside with loud crackling sounds. The forests here were old, fed by mountain streams and clear air, and the trees grew tall and thick enough for even a troop of giants to hide in. Isabelle could just make out the smudge of Jack's dirty brown coat before Elmont grabbed his forearm and hauled him under the leafy canopy. She thought he looked back once, but his face was hidden by leaf shadow.
Now they had to wait.
Isabelle wasn't sure how long she spent chained against the rock. Long enough to make her arms ache from being bound over her head and her nose start to run from the cold wind in her face. Aside from the wind's hollow voice, the entire land had fallen silent. Not a single bird chirped. The silence became so thick that Isabelle began to feel certain that she was alone on the hillside. That the giants had slipped their leashes and were already halfway back to Cloister, killing and pillaging as they went. Metal jangled as she began struggling against the chains binding her, the scent of fear staining the air around her.
Then she heard them. Wet, snuffling sounds. Coming from the sky.
Coming for her.
The dragon landed several paces away from her, gouging deep furrows into the ground wherever its claws touched soil. Isabelle froze, terror and helplessness combining to render everything crystal-clear in her mind. She noted with brittle detachment that this dragon was smaller and slimmer than the one she'd killed. Its wings opened as greenish fluid dripped from the ribbed membranes, then were pulled tight against the dragon's sides. The creature's reptilian snout swung toward her. Its nostrils flared wide, attracted to the salty-sweet reek of fear pouring out of her skin. Ropes of foamy saliva began to ooze between yellowish teeth jutting from its narrow jaws. Isabelle held her breath as it began to stalk toward her like a prowling lion, each slow step punctuated by a rustle of its wings, an eager, birdlike warble issuing from its throat.
Isabelle's heart beat hard and fast in her chest. The army of hidden giants remained still and silent. What are they waiting for? Come on! Come on! COME ON!
Roaring seemed to fill the world as the giants burst out of the forest, shoving anything in their path aside. The dragon's snout was only a foot from her head, and she could see its yellow eyes widen, the pupils dilating in surprise at the massive sound of the giant's charge. Fumm reached it first. His right hand closed on its tail, and its claws dug trenches in the ground as he dragged the monster back and away from her. The dragon whipped its head around and lunged, jaws wide-open and slavering, at Fumm's face. His free hand came up and caught the dragon's jaws, clamping them shut inches from his nose. Then Foe, Fye, Fee, and Fallon were there, and Isabelle lost track of what was happening as it all became a whirlwind of slashing claws, beating wings, and flailing giant fists.
The chains around Isabelle seemed to grow mercilessly tight. Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to run, yet she was unable to do anything but watch as vicious battle unfolded before her. Soon the dragon lay pinned on its back, with Fumm holding its smoking jaws shut while Foe and Fye each took a forepaw. Fee was wrestling with the beast's tail, and cursed when he lost his grip long enough for it to lash out and strike his helmet with the arrowpoint at the tail's tip.
Fumm shouted something in the giant's own language. There was an answering shout, and Fallon emerged from the dust cloud that had been stirred up by the struggling monsters. A sword was in his hands and if Isabelle had thought he looked terrifying before, those past encounters seemed warm and fuzzy compared to the way he looked now. The joy of battle was in his eyes, making them shine. Muscle rippled beneath his massive arms, and when the bloodcrazed snarl tore from his throat he became every bit the frightful monster old legends had made him out to be.
Even his small head looked scary.
He fell upon the dragon. Ignored its hind legs as they tried to kick at him. And with a roar buried his sword deep in the dragon's chest.
The reptile's back arched. A shrill whine could be heard issuing faintly between its clamped-shut teeth. All of the giants seemed to bear down, using all their might to hold the dragon as death spasms made its limbs want to jerk in a macabre dance. Fallon leapt off the dying body before its hind legs gave a final, powerful kick. Then its green-scaled belly heaved as the dragon drew its last breath, shuddered, and lay still.
Eyes wide, Isabelle finally remembered to breathe, drawing down air in deep, gasping pants. Dust hung in the air all around her, but she could still see the red-orange blaze of sunset through the layers of haze. The entire battle couldn't have lasted more than a few moments. Her body still wasn't convinced it was over. Every sizzling nerve was primed for either frantic escape or a desperate fight, and her gold dress was plastered to her skin with sweat.
"Is that all? Just one?" Foe growled. He'd released the dragon's limp forepaw and was helping Fee stand. A dented helmet lay on the ground by Fee's hairy toes, and he was rubbing at the lump forming on his forehead, grumbling. Fumm crouched in the scuffed grass next to the lizard's slack jaws. A shiver flowed like icy water down Isabelle's spine when she saw him reach inside the dead monster's mouth, break off the longest teeth, then drop them into a sack tied to his waist.
Taking trophies, she thought, chilled.
A thump came from off to Isabelle's right. She whipped her head around and cringed to see Fye's huge bulk standing uncomfortably close. His unreadable face seemed to be cut from the same stone she was chained to. If there was ever a giant that could frighten her more than Fallon, it was this rock-hard behemoth. She hadn't the faintest glimmer of what he might be thinking, which terrified her more than if he'd been a screaming, stomping whirlwind.
"Fye?" she asked, her voice small and tentative. He said nothing.
Sounds of more giant feet scuffling around her. Bending down, Fallon grunted as he wrenched the sword free of the dragon's corpse. Purple blood swelled up from the ragged hole, spilling over the sides. "I don't smell any more," he said, hefting the sword. Thin trickles of purple slid down its cutting edge. The two-headed giant held the blade up, inspected it, then handed it off to Foe, growling: "It's over. Tell the little cowards they can come out now."
"Save your breath. They're already coming." Fumm said. Isabelle glanced around wildly, and nearly cried from relief to see Jack and Elmont sprinting toward her.
"Isabelle? Are you all right?" Their voices blended into a unintelligible outpouring of concern. Jack's arms were around her, hugging her in spite of all the jangling chains separating them. "Get these things off her!" he commanded.
Isabelle closed her eyes, slumped against the net of chains. Content to do nothing but allow Jack's arms and chains to hold her up as bone-deep weariness made itself comfortable under her skin. A fragrance of white lilies drifted from the flower crown bound to her head, thickly sweet and unbearable. The ground trembled as a giant approached her, and she was slightly surprised to hear Fallon's gruff voice.
"You did well, princess." Sharp, tinkling sounds of metal separating as Fallon's huge fingers began snapping the chains, breaking heavy links of wrought-iron like they were twigs. Circulation returned to her arms and legs in waves of needle pinpricks as cold metal slid off her, landing in chiming coils around her ankles. Fallon continued, his voice light and conversational. "Of course, this was just the beginning. You'll like as not have to serve for dragon bait again."
The space behind her closed eyelids turned hot and wet. It took an effort to hold back the tears as a vision of her father lying dead on the abbey steps swam up before her with soul-crushing intensity .
"And that dragon we saw today was young. Barely out of its egg. The older ones will be much harder to fool." Isabelle wondered if Fallon was even aware of the disheartening effect his words were having on her. When the last chain was broken, she practically fell into Jack's arms, laying her head snugly against his shoulder, not caring about the disapproving glares burning down from the twin sets of gray eyes above them. Fallon growled softly to himself as Jack stroked her hair, muttered soothing nonsense to her and, when she could stand again, turned her to face Elmont.
The knight immediately got down to business. "Are you injured?"
"I'm fine." No cuts, scrapes, or bruises on the outside, but an absolute mess inside, she thought. But I'm sure you can figure that out for yourself, my brave knight.
He did. Worry turned his face into a bland mask. "Let's get you back to Cloister."
Taking her gently by the wrist, Elmont led her away from the rock. Her dress rippled like gold water poured over her skin, the silk rustling as the wind sharpened. She did her best not to stumble, for she could feel Fallon's eyes on her. He looks at me like a hungry dog at a bone, she thought, shivering.
Darkness began to creep over the hillsides as the edge of the setting sun touched a bank of cumulus clouds, singing them with fiery light. Jack's hand gripped her right shoulder. She sighed when he trailed his fingers down her back, and let herself be led away from danger.
Danger. A feeling of wrongness rose up inside her, some primal, basic sense clawing just below her skin. Her hackles rose, the fine hairs at her nape standing straight as pins. "Jack?" she asked, hesitantly.
He stopped dead in his tracks. He felt it too.
Fighting against weariness, she forced herself to look back. None of the giants had moved. They stood, tense and wary, all seeming transfixed by the setting sun. Fallon was sniffing, while one hand gripped the shaft of his flail so tightly his knuckles bulged. As she watched, the last golden ray was snuffed out behind the clouds. Everything grew dark as the wind buffeted her face, throwing her hair back in thick tendrils.
Then panic seized her as something dark, winged, and powerful tore through the clouds and arced toward her with incredible speed.
"Damnit, Fallon! You said there weren't any more!" Elmont shouted. He slapped her hard in the back, shoving her forward. "Run!"
She tried, but the wind worked against her , gusting into her so hard she felt like she was trying to run through a wall made of air. The hill before her was steep, and one foot snagged on the hem of her dress. She fell to her knees.
And then a cage of cold, scaly fingers closed tight around her body, and the ground fell away from her as she was carried up into the sky.
Twisting in the monster's claws, Isabelle could do nothing but scream.
"JACK!"
{O}
"JACK!"
Isabelle's scream reached him over the howling wind, blotting out the sounds of chaos around him. Dragons were in the skies above them. Big ones. Snarls and growls from the giants, combined with their heavy stomping feet. Beside him, Elmont was shouting but the words sounded like gibberish to his panicked brain. Isabelle was lying crumpled in the field. His only thought was to get to her and protect her.
Then the green-scaled, spiky nightmare swooped out of the sky and Jack could only watch, horrified, as Isabelle was seized in its claws. Her scream trailed away as the creature soared into the sky with its prize.
"Help her!" he shouted, not really certain who or what he was shouting to. But his words were answered by a giant's enraged snarl, and the ground shook as something large bounded toward him. Glancing over his shoulder, Jack's heart nearly stopped to see Fallon charging straight toward him. He had little time to do more than cringe as the underside of Fallon's foot sailed overhead, covering him in its thick-toed shadow. Then the giant was past him and leaping at the escaping dragon. The flail appeared in his hand, and with a single flick Fallon sent the metal ball flying, its path of destruction taking it in a looping arc that wound around the reptilian's barbed tail. Metal jangled as the chain's coils cinched tight, and Jack was left gaping in astonishment to see the former King of the Giants precariously attached to a dragon's tail by his own weapon and being dragged up into the clouds, shouting vociferous Gantish curses that soon trailed away like smoke in the wind.
He was so dumbfounded he didn't even realize the field around him was covered by a winged shadow until Elmont's fearful shout jarred him into full-alertness.
"GET DOWN, JACK!"
He threw himself to the ground. Landed so hard his jaws clicked together, then quickly forgot the pain when he felt metal sliding through his hair. The Crown of Erik was shifting, loosening.
It fell off.
Time seemed to slow down.
Jack watched, disbelieving, as the Crown rolled like a coin balanced on one side. Bounced over some small stones in its path, then toppled over. Lay in the grass like a gold ribbon, fiery light spilling from its red jewels, the heart-shaped band at its center gleaming impossibly bright.
No! Desperately, he tried to crawl after it, just as something sped through the air above him.
Then the golden light of King Erik's Crown disappeared inside a dragon's huge paw. The creature's crooked mouth seemed to grin at him as it hovered, bat- wings flapping, over the spot where the Crown had been. Wind beat the empty grass beneath the monster, a vortex churned up by its own wings. Jack stretched out a hand in a futile grab, knowing it was already too late. With a triumphant screech, the dragon streaked back into the cloud-swollen sky, taking with it the only thing that could rule a giant's heart.
Almost as soon as the attack had begun, it was over. The wind died down from a roar to a shrill whine. Overhead, the skies were thick with rolling clouds. The evening seemed swathed in steely gray light that was fading fast. A cold raindrop landed on the back of Jack's limp right hand. Numb realization flashed across his mind like lightning, illuminating two pertinent and ugly facts.
Isabelle was gone, along with the Crown.
"Jack!" Elmont's shout. From somewhere nearby.
Dread spread like thick, crippling poison inside his veins. He clambered to his feet, wincing at the feeling of torn skin on his left knee. Clutching his coat tighter around himself, he ran the back of his free hand over his eyes, clearing them of grit. Blinked away tears to see a grim-faced Elmont moving carefully toward him. The knight took slow, deliberate steps, all the while keeping one eye trained on the huge shadows moving among the hills around them. Grass was being crushed and trampled beneath huge shuffling feet. Craning his neck, Jack spotted Fee, Fye, Foe, and Fumm closing in a circle around them. Soon Elmont and Jack were pressed back to back, surrounded by their former allies, none of whom looked happy. Vicious growls drifted down to him, and Jack gave voice to the only two words that could even begin to sum up the situation.
"Oh fuck."
{O}
This is worse than the beanstalk.
That thought circled through Isabelle's mind like a panicked fish as she hung facedown from the dragon's claws. Below her, tree-covered hillsides and vast fields spread themselves like magical tapestries that were son snatched away at great speed. Wind nearly blinded her, forcing her to squint, and she was keenly aware that the scaly fingers wrapped around her belly were the only things keeping her from falling to her death. At least while riding the beanstalk I'd been kept safe inside a house. Trapped and terrified, but safe. Now, with no wooden walls shielding her and nothing to hold onto, her arms and legs felt almost frozen by the rushing cold. Her long hair blew in whip-snapping tendrils that landed like bee stings against her nose and forehead, and the only sound she could hear above the wind-scream was the hollow whoosh! of flapping wings.
Cold certainty suffused her heart. I'm going to die.
Then she heard another sound. The booming voice of a Gantuan in a flaming rage.
"YOU CRAVEN, THIEVING, POX-RIDDEN PIECE OF WORM DUNG! I'LL RIP YOUR FORKED TONGUE OUT FOR THIS!"
It can't be. Shock almost made her forget her own fear. With a little elbow-flailing and kicking against the cage of claws holding her, she was able to orient herself in the direction from whence the shouting came.
And stared openly at the sight of Fallon pulling himself up onto the thickest part of the dragon's tail with one gnarled hand, while the other gripped his flail, using it as an anchor. Once his grip on the lashing tail was secure, he let go of the flail. The ball and chain uncoiled and slid away, disappearing into the gathering mist below.
I'm seeing things, Isabelle thought, then reconsidered when the giant let loose with a fresh tirade of both human and Gantish curses. He certainly yells loud enough to be the real thing.
Her view from the dragon's claws was limited, but she caught impressions of Fallon climbing, hand- over-hand, from the tail onto the reptilian's back. Enraged, the dragon screeched and started to dive. Isabelle screamed, and pain flared through her ribs as she was knocked against ridges of tough, pebbled scales covering the dragon's paw. The ground was rushing toward her now, deep forests waiting below her like vast, dark, prickly oceans.
Isabelle heard more cursing, and she turned her head just in time to catch an impression of Fallon's clawed hand tearing at the dragon's right wing.
I'm not sure that's a good idea.
She'd barely completed the thought before the dragon's claws spread apart and she was falling, her hands grasping at nothing, cold air ruffling through her golden dress so that she seemed to glimmer like a shooting star. By sheer luck, the fingers of her right hand closed around a tree branch, and she spent a frantic few seconds scrabbling against the rough, thick wood, hauling herself up. The tree was an old pine, and its needles stung her face as she crawled along the creaking branch, praying it would hold her weight, sighing gratefully when she was able to lean her back against its trunk. More trees were splintered into kindling when the dragon ploughed into the ground a few leagues ahead of her, far away but not nearly far enough, as its lashing tail-tip sliced the air within a foot of her tree.
Partially concealed among pine needles and twisting branches, she watched wide-eyed as Fallon leapt off the dragon's back. The serpentine creature swiveled its body to face him, and the two snarled and hissed at each other like angry cats. The dragon moved gingerly, as though it were wounded. One crumpled green wing hung at an unnatural angle, and the beast cowered as it backed away from the giant. Fallon seemed to grow larger as he snarled, showing all his teeth in defiance and clenching his fists. His smaller head spat out a frothy ball of yellowish spittle. Wood continued to crack and snap as the reptilian slunk away into the forest, until it disappeared with all the grace and silence of a fleeing snake.
Heart hammering in her ears, Isabelle flattened herself against the tree trunk. Remained completely motionless while trying to slow her frantic breathing. Fallon was close by, his muscular armored body visible as a titanic outline in the growing darkness. She could hear him breathing like a winded horse, and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold mist filling the night air. The dragon's flight had carried them far into the foothills of the mountains. Far from Cloister, and far from help.
She stayed utterly still, hoping the leafy branches would conceal her location. Chasing off the dragon may have saved her life, but she wasn't about to trust him enough to come down from her tree. Fallon could be many things, but he was always unpredictable, which made her want nothing more than to hide and hope he would go away.
"A fine ride, wasn't it, princess?" he drawled, amusement thick in his voice. He turned, and looked right at her.
So much for hiding, she thought miserably.
"F-Fallon," she said, stammering. Her throat was tightening to a pinhole and she was afraid she was about to faint from fear and exhaustion. "Why did you do that?"
"I told you," he growled, "nothing and no one will eat you but me." He took a step toward he and she flinched. His huge strides could cover the distance between them in seconds, and the branch she crouched on wasn't out of his reach. The tree itself was only chest-high to him. His huge hands could reach down and pluck her off the branch easily, possibly without even breaking it.
He took another step toward her, crunching fallen trees beneath his heels.
She started to shake. "We...we have to go back!"
"No, we don't." His eyes narrowed as his face took on an angular, predatory cast. "We don't have to anything you say, princess. You're not wearing the Crown." Grinning, he continued advancing toward her, pushing small trees aside like sticks. The small head mimicked him with a lopsided grin of its own.
Fear blinded her, made her as immobile as a hare caught in a fox's jaws.
The giant's grin grew even broader. "And what's more, I don't feel your precious King holding me back any longer. I feel as though I can do as I please with you." He licked his lips. "And I am hungry."
She screamed when he reached for her, instinct and fear causing her to react without thinking as she threw herself backwards. Air whipped her hair back as she toppled out of the tree, once again falling but this time landing on something tough and leathery, and the last thing she felt before consciousness left her was the almost-familiar tightening of giant fingers around her.
{O}
Author's Notes: They've lost control of the giants at the worst possible time! Yay! Now we're getting to the stuff that's going to be really fun (and challenging) to write. And if Fumm seems a little weird at the beginning, let's just say I haven't got him figured out yet. Fallon is an open book compared to The Black Hair of Broodiness.