An Unnatural Beanstalk

by Brittany Fichter

  Mrs. McConnell’s own eyes grew a little glassy after that. It was just the pollen in the air, she swore. It made her eyes water. But not much more was said until Eva’s gown was fitted and removed, and Eva had returned to her usual green.

  “Don’t forget,” the housekeeper said quietly as she gathered up her sewing supplies, “you have a walk with the master in an hour.” Then she left Eva alone.

  Eva tried to return to bed to rest. She hadn’t slept well in the days since Jack had left and didn’t come back. This should have comforted her, she chided herself again and again. After all, that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? If he had stayed, the duke would have had him executed on the spot. Or perhaps he would have used some horrid magic trick to make the death more interesting. Eva shivered.

  And yet, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alone. Before Jack had arrived, Eva hadn’t expected anything else. She was alone, and she knew it. But now she expected to see his face every time she turned around. Whenever she trailed behind the duke on their walks, she would find herself glancing over her shoulder in search of a pair of slate-gray eyes that followed her every move. The duke’s cutting remarks about her ignorance or imperfections weren’t funny anymore, as there was no one there to remind her of their foolishness.

  But Jack was safe, and that’s what was important. As Eva lay there, however, unable to even keep her eyes shut for fear of seeing his face whenever she did, a new fire burned in her belly. Everything here was wrong. They had spent so much time scheming and planning, and the duke had still managed to ruin it all in a single swoop. One man shouldn’t have the power to make everyone around him cower in fear, magic or no magic. He shouldn’t get a bride because he felt like taking one. And Jack was ten times the man the duke could ever be. A hundred times. Why should the duke have the ability to yank everyone about like puppets on a string?

  No matter how Eva looked at it, the trail of fault led back to one person.

  Eva leapt to her feet and rolled her sleeves up.

  “Oh detestable godfather Mortimer, I, your kidnapped goddaughter, demand you come and face the consequences for what you’ve done.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Mortimer, I know you’re there. You’re required to come when I summon you, and I’ve summoned you.”

  “You didn’t do it right,” a familiar voice whined. No body appeared, but Eva knew she had him.

  “I’m not going to say it.”

  “It’s, ‘Oh great fairy godfather Mortimer, I, a stupid human, humbly need your magnificent and wonderful magic.’ Now try again.”

  “No.” Eva stomped her foot. “I will not try again. And I will say nothing of the sort. Now you get your sorry rump here and listen for once in your life!”

  The contours of a man’s form began to take shape beside the fireplace. As his shadow thickened, the scents of body odor and sawdust began to grow stronger as well. The gray robe, which was far too large, covered all but his scruffy, unshaven face.

  Eva wrinkled her nose. “How long has it been since you’ve had a bath?”

  “Someone’s sensitive today!” He shook off his hood and grimaced. “And I always liked you best.”

  “Because I never called on you.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Did you ever stop and wonder why that was?” Eva crossed her arms. “Did it ever occur to you that there was a purpose behind that?”

  Mortimer looked at her as though she’d spoken gibberish. “It wasn’t just because you were content?”

  “No! It was because I felt sorry for you!”

  Mortimer’s face went blank. “Sorry for me?”

  “Yes!” Eva threw her hands up. “Because I know what it’s like to have a passion! I had my harp, and you had your experiments, and I never thought it was fair of the fairy council to require you to grant wishes if you didn’t want to!”

  “Oh.”

  “But those days are long over!”

  “Oh?” Mortimer looked around. “Where’s that fellow I sent after you?”

  “I had to send him home.”

  “Well, that was your—”

  “To keep him safe!”

  The fairy held up a finger and closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them again. “I think you may need to go back and explain this in a little more detail.”

  Eva stomped over to her bed, picked up a pillow, and threw it at him as hard as she could. “I can’t!”

  “Why not? Hey, stop that!”

  Eva threw another pillow, ignoring the fairy’s protests. “Because I can’t! I wish I could, but I can’t. I. Can’t.” She glared at him, willing him to understand.

  He stared at her blankly for a long time. But eventually, understanding began to dawn on his face.

  “Oh. So you can’t tell me why—”

  “No.”

  “Not even who—”

  “What part of no do you not understand, Mortimer?”

  He frowned at her. “Then why did you summon me?”

  “Because you need to understand what happens when you use magic so carelessly!” Eva exploded. “You are the reason I was kidnapped because you were the one that cursed me with this infernal gift!”

  He scratched his grizzly chin. “And just why is it my fault?”

  Eva seriously considered screaming. Was he really that dense? “When you publicly gifted me the ability to grow or kill plants with my harp, the duke heard about it. He chased me until he found me hiding with my cousin for this very reason. And when he kidnapped me, and you sent Jack, you put Jack’s life in danger as well. And now I’m going to marry the duke and Jack is in danger, and it’s all your fault!”

  Mortimer rolled his sleeves up as he paced back and forth in front of her fireplace. After a long silence, he finally looked at her again.

  “So . . . you don’t want to marry the duke?”

  Eva threw another pillow. “What do you think?”

  “You can stop that now! You’re angry. I’m aware. No need to be so mean.” He paused. “If you didn’t want it, why didn’t you just ask me not to give you the gift in the first place?”

  “I did! But apparently, the only way to get you to listen is to throw things at you!”

  “You’re much more violent than I would have expected. I always thought you were the nice one.”

  “You’re still not listening to me!” Eva cried, a little louder than she meant to. Against her will, tears began to fall, and her voice broke into a choked sob. “When you gave me this magic without even considering what I thought of it, you forced me into a life of this!” She spread her arms out.

  Mortimer looked around. “It’s a pretty extravagant room, if you ask me.”

  “Extravagant, yes! But it comes with daily reminders from the one person who should love me most that I’m not pretty enough, or that I’m a country bumpkin, or that I will never, ever be good enough for the man I marry! And I will live with those reminders until the day I die.”

  Mortimer was silent as he stared at the ground. Finally, he lifted his head and looked at her. And though Eva had seen him dozens of time over the course of her life, she realized it was the first time he’d probably ever really seen her. When he spoke again, his voice was finally rid of its general sarcasm.

  “What do you need? Really?”

  She held his gaze and crossed her arms. “I need you to promise to keep my family and Jack’s family safe from the duke and all those under his influence.”

  He nodded, but she held up a finger.

  “And no rodents. Or anything that’s rabid.”

  He began to scowl. “You can’t tell me how I’m going to—”

  “You owe me, Mortimer.”

  He held her glare for a long moment before shrugging and giving a huff. “Very well. What next?”

  “Take away my gift.”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “What?” she cried.

  “Sorry. I can’t just take away a gift after I
give it.”

  “Meaning you don’t know how.”

  “Does it make a difference?” he snapped.

  She rolled her eyes. Then she walked to the balcony that faced the mountain. She needed to think. She could ask him to spell her husband-to-be, but then she thought better of it. Fairy godparents couldn’t kill, and with Mortimer’s skill set, the duke would probably see it coming. It was the whole reason she hadn’t summoned him sooner. He would just make an even bigger mess of things. So she would have to be the one to beat the duke. The hopes of all of Guthward couldn’t hinge on Mortimer. She would have to be tricky. She would have to—

  Eva stopped as the gleam of her harp caught her eye. She stepped closer and fingered the instrument, running her hand down its smooth golden curve. A ferocious desire began to claw its way out of her stomach and into her head.

  “What else?” Mortimer called from her room.

  Eva smiled. “I’m not going to go quietly.” She thought of Jack and smiled even more. “For once, I’m not going to play it safe. I’m going to live.”

  16

  You Really are a Terrible Fairy

  Jack tugged on the collar of his shirt for the thousandth time since he’d started walking, but it was no use. Though he was in his old clothes and no longer in the ridiculous green uniform, the humidity was stifling, even for Guthward. Just breathing was like trying to drink the air. Of course, it didn’t help that his mood was already far sourer than the water in a stagnant pond.

  Where had they gone wrong?

  It was the question he’d asked himself over and over again since Eva had practically thrown him out the night before. And as he’d stolen his horse back from the duke’s stables where he’d hidden him, then followed the hidden green path home by the light of the moon, Jack hadn’t been able to come up with an answer.

  He was fairly confident that the duke had threatened Eva. It was the only explanation he could come up with that satisfied the confusion that threatened to turn his gut inside out.

  They’d been laughing and talking together only that morning. Even up until she’d had to leave him to be escorted by the duke to that awful dinner party, he had dared to hope that she might have feelings for him . . . something deeper than a general sense of gratitude for his help. The way she’d watched him whenever they were near, the look in her eyes that made him feel as though she were a ship at sea and he was her anchor. She hadn’t hesitated to reach out to him whenever she needed his assistance. She’d even nudged him with her shoulder the day before as they’d shared a joke at the duke’s expense right behind his back. It hadn’t been intimate by any romantic standards, but the touch had felt so . . . well, so natural. It had felt right. They’d only known one another for a month, and yet, he felt strange trying to imagine life without her.

  And then, there on the balcony as they’d danced, he’d been so close to giving in to the ever-growing urge that had been present for weeks now. It would have been so easy to close the last few inches between their lips. He could almost feel her mouth against his, despite never having kissed a girl in his life.

  Well, a real kiss. That peck back in the study hadn’t been nearly long enough.

  And then, without explanation, she was done. Giving up. Accepting what the duke had laid out for her, and she hadn’t been willing to even consider his position.

  Well, fine then! She could stay there with that poor excuse for a man, and he would go on his merry way. He would get his family and head for the nearest place that wasn’t Guthward. In theory.

  Unfortunately, his head and his heart couldn’t come to a full understanding.

  Jack for the entire night along his magic green path, grumbling even more to himself when he realized all the plants aside from his strange path were still dead. He must have left the duke’s lands, which meant he wouldn’t find a breakfast of berries or even be able to chew on dandelions along the way.

  By the time he arrived home the next morning, he was not in a good mood.

  “Jack!” Ray spotted him first and came running out of the barn to greet him, with Larry close on his heels. Jack’s heart softened a little when they threw their arms around his waist. “We missed you!”

  “Some strange man came and said he’d sent you on a quest,” Larry said. “He also said he was a fairy, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “But then I asked him to prove it, and he did!” Ray jumped up and down.

  Jack frowned down at his little brother. “How did he do that?”

  “We asked him to make us new toys.”

  “And what toys did he make you?” Jack asked.

  Ray sprinted back to the barn, disappeared for a moment, then came sprinting back. As he grew closer, Jack could see that he was holding a miniature axe.

  “Larry has one, too! But his is smaller than mine. Then the fairy said we should have races to see who could run fastest while carrying them!”

  The fairy had given them axes to play with. Axes. Of all the stupid . . . Jack took a deep calming breath. “You don’t run with an axe, you ninnies. Where is Mother?”

  “She’s in the house,” Ray said, rolling his eyes. “As usual.”

  “Did she help you at all while I was gone?” Jack shook his head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Look, I want both of you to get a bag and fill it with the things you like most. We’re leaving.”

  The boys’ eyes grew wide.

  “Leaving?” Larry said in a quiet voice.

  “Where are we going?” Ray asked. “And for how long?”

  “Just do as you’re told. I’ll tell you more later, but we have to go soon.” He strode toward the house, but then he paused. “And no matter what you hear Mother say, I want you to keep preparing. And hook the horses to the cart when you’re done. They need to be ready to go by the time I get back.”

  Whether it was his tone or their desire to be far away when he talked to their mother, Jack didn’t know, but the boys ran off without hesitation. Jack squared his shoulders and resumed his walk to the house. Now came the hard part.

  “Mother!” he called as he walked inside. “Mother, I’m back. And we need to go. Now.”

  His mother appeared in the doorway to her room. From the frizz of her hair and the scowl on her face, she looked to have been in bed.

  “What’s all this fuss about? You go away and leave us on our own for weeks, and then you jig your way back in here and expect us to up and leave?” She took another step closer. “And since when are you giving orders around here?”

  “Since I’ve been to a very bad place, and I’m fairly certain the bad man from the bad place will be coming to get me at any time.” Jack knew better than to try and tell her the details of his situation. He’d tried with no less than three travelers he’d met on the way home, begging them to help him contact the king. But every time he’d opened his mouth to recount his tale, garbled nonsense came out. It was maddening. So the best he could give were ambiguous statements.

  “Pshaw.” She waved a hand and turned back into her room. “You can go then. But the boys and I are staying here.”

  He followed her into her room, where he found her getting back into bed. “Are you sick?”

  “There’s no reason to get out of bed if the crops won’t grow.”

  “We still have animals to feed! And you’ve left the boys to do everything on their own?”

  “They’re big enough. A mother deserves a day to rest now and then.”

  Jack stomped over to her little window and peeked out. Every second, he expected to hear the clatter of a carriage or the clip-clop of guard horses. The duke had never said as much, but he had made his superiority quite clear. It was only a matter of time before he came to prove once and for all that he had power over Jack. And with his failure to bring Eva back, Jack was rather sure the fairy’s protection was now expired as well.

  When he was sure that the yard was still clear, he hurried over to the single wooden dresser in the far corner of the room and
began to pull clothes out, stuffing them into the nearest bag he could find.

  “What are you doing?” His mother shot up in bed once more.

  “I told you, bad people are coming. And they’re not going to care if I’m gone. When they find out this is where I lived, they’re going to take you and the boys and hurt you.”

  “Stop that!” She got out of bed and tried to yank the bag away. “We’re not going anywhere! Not with you, at least.”

  “You’ve always wanted to leave. This is your chance!”

  She pulled harder. “Not like this! Running for our lives like common thieves!”

  Jack paused and stared hard at his mother. Her graying red hair stuck out in wisps all over her head, and her eyes were bright with indignation.

  She had once been pretty, he recalled. Before his father died, back when she laughed, and there were hugs and sometimes even kind words, she had been pretty. But now she glowered at him with those piercing eyes, and the joy that had once occasionally appeared on her face was gone. Her clothes were frayed, as though she no longer saw any need to patch them, and her hair looked as though she hadn’t bothered to comb it.

  Hopeless. She looked hopeless.

  “Mother,” he whispered. “I want to keep you safe. I’m trying in the best way I know how. But I don’t know what else to do.” He held his hands out helplessly, letting the bag drop. “I know you blame me for Father’s death. And I’m sorry. If I could go back and change things, I would have. But hating me isn’t going to help the boys, and it’s not going to help you. Please,” he took a step closer, willing her to keep eye contact with him, to see his earnestness and remember that she had once loved him, too. “Let me keep us safe. Let me do what Father would have wanted done.”

  She studied him for a long time, and for a moment, he thought her expression might have softened. But then her mouth set in a harder line than before, and she turned her back on him and climbed back in bed.

  “You can peddle your dreams somewhere else, Jack, but you don’t fool me. Your father gave up on us. And you’re no better than him. We aren’t going anywhere. At least not with you.”