Once Upon a Beanstalk (7 page)

“Only the ones he catches.” Jack glanced over his shoulder, catching her eye. “How’re you feeling, Gretel?”

“Ready to get this over with.”

“You’ll be fine. We’ve done this a thousand times.” He gave her a reassuring smile that she couldn’t return.

“Stop flirting with my sister,” Hansel grumbled, and Gretel’s cheeks flamed.

The vans rumbled over the drawbridge, rattling the chains that held it in place and making the spikes flash in the sunlight. Gretel turned her head away from the sight. At least there were no bodies hanging off the wall.

Yet
, her mind whispered, but she squashed down the thought. She wouldn’t even entertain such a possibility. They would escape without incident, of course. They were professionals, like Hansel said. Nothing to worry about.

She was still worried, though.

The caravan pulled into a courtyard surrounded by a high wall. Metal detectors were set against all the doors, ugly gray boxes that marred the otherwise savage beauty of the architecture. In the center, a monstrous fountain of glittering black stone filled the air with the sound of splashing water. Gretel looked at the statue in the middle of the fountain and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was a dragon eating a man. The water flowing down came from his wounded throat, eyes, and mouth.

Wincing, she looked away just in time to see a man enter the courtyard. Rumpel jumped down from the driver’s seat and went to meet him.

“It’s Agathar Black’s steward,” Jack muttered in her ear. He kept a careful distance, she noticed, and he flicked a glance at Hansel before pulling back slightly. She pretended not to notice.

“How do you know?”

“Look,” he said, nodding at the man. “He has the keys to the castle on his belt.”

The man was not a giant, and the giant-sized keys—made to fit giant-sized locks—reached almost to his knees. Gretel wondered how he stayed standing with the weight of them. His back must be aching from carrying them around all day.

“All right,” Hansel said. “This is where we get out.”

They climbed out of the van and grabbed their instruments—all violins in black cases. Jack led the way through the courtyard, with Hansel and Gretel on his heels.

The door Jack chose opened into a dark hallway. The metal detector let them through without buzzing, and they slipped inside while the rest of the R & R people were unloading the vans, shouting and milling around. The door slammed behind Gretel, muffling the sounds from the courtyard. She looked up—a soaring ceiling painted with ogres and giants engaged in a bloody war stretched above her head.

“The ballroom is this way,” Jack said. “And stop holding it like that.” He pointed at the instrument case, which Hansel was holding like an oversized weapon. “You’re supposed to be a musician, not a Viking.”

“Like you know what a musician looks like,” Hansel said.

Jack didn’t argue. He just grabbed the case from Hansel and turned it around, offering him the handle. “There. That’s the proper way to hold that.”

Hansel jerked it out of his hands. “Let’s just keep moving.”

Gretel winced at the tension she could sense rolling off both of them.

“Yes,” she said, before anyone could say or do anything else. “Let’s keep moving.”

The princess was most likely being held in the massive dungeon beneath Agathar’s castle. According to the house plans they’d been given by Brellek, the way to the dungeon was through the main part of the house. They’d need to navigate a hallway, a ballroom, and one of the smaller kitchens to get there.

The hallway ended in a door with an enormous brass handle. Jack had to use all his body weight to open it. As it swung open, Gretel gasped.

The ballroom was the size of a train depot. Windows stretched tall as trees, letting in swaths of sunlight, and servants scurried across the floor like mice, carrying plates of food the size of turkey platters. Gretel spotted Rumpel in the corner, talking to Agathar himself.

The giant was tall, of course. Rumpel was short, and only came up to the middle of the giant’s calf, but a normal-sized man like Jack wouldn’t come much higher than his knee. Agathar’s thick black hair shone like a glossy pelt, and his long, braided beard hung down to his belt buckle and twitched when he spoke, like a massive animal tail. His eyes glittered, black as obsidian.

“Quick,” Jack said, and they started across the room before anyone took too long or too hard of a look at them. Gretel noticed that Jack turned his face away from the giant, but she didn’t ask. She was too busy trying to keep from tripping over her hem, dropping her violin, or both. The servants rushed back and forth in front of them, lugging goblets and stacks of silverware. A mountain of a wedding cake sat under one of the windows, the frosting sparkling like snow.

A servant carrying a harp almost collided with Gretel, and she swerved around him with a startled yelp that echoed across the ballroom. Agathar glanced up, and his eyes met hers. The cruelty she saw in them sent a pulse of terror down her spine. She put her head down and hurried after Jack and Hansel. She felt the burn of the giant’s gaze on her all the way across the room, until they reached the far end and slipped into another hall.

“All right,” Hansel said, tugging out the floor plan from his jacket pocket and unfurling it. “According to the plans, we need to follow this hallway down to the servants’ quarters here—”

“It’s wrong,” Jack said, grabbing it and looking closer. “These plans are wrong, why didn’t I notice it before?”

“What?” Hansel looked up at him, his mouth hanging open.

“The house plan in your hand. It’s wrong.” He started to reach into his jacked.

Hansel just shook his head. “What—?”

The door swung upon suddenly as a servant burst through, knocking them all against the wall. Jack stumbled, and he dropped whatever he’d been reaching for onto the ground. Gretel scooped it up. It was another set of plans, stained and torn. She turned them over in her hands. They were hand-drawn.

“What are those?” Hansel demanded.

A muscle in Jack’s jaw twitched. He glanced at the door. “We need to get going.”

Jack—”

He just shook his head.

Gretel stared at the plans another moment, and then she turned to him. All the details fell into place at once, and she blurted the words out. “You’re not really a thief.”

“Oh?” Hansel swung around to face Jack. “Why do you say that, Gretel?”

"He’s well-traveled. He knows way too much about politics. He was too darn calm handling the authorities, like he’s used to dealing with that type—and I saw him talking with Brellek like they were friends.”

Jack glanced at the door and then past them down the hall. His voice came out in a harsh whisper. “This isn’t the best time for this. But no. I’m not really a thief. I’m an undercover operative, and yes, you really do need to trust me because I’ve been in this castle before.”

Hansel’s hands dug into the edges of the paper at the words
undercover
and
operative
. He took a couple of deep breaths, probably to rein in his temper. “What else?”

Jack sighed. “I work for the king, and I infiltrated your group as part of a mission. My superiors believed you were both part of a larger crime organization because of all the heists you guys were pulling. Agathar Black’s, to be exact. I’ve spent some time here as well, in previous missions. You guys were my first long-term undercover assignment.”

“So you’re a
spy?
” Hansel managed. “You’ve been giving up information to the king’s men about us?” He was turning a steady shade of red.

“You were infiltrated in the hopes that you’d lead us to the bigger guns, but I discovered for certain not too long ago that you two work alone.”

“Of course we work alone,” Hansel snapped. “And I’m going to kill you all by myself, too.”

“If you’re an agent, you could’ve just walked away free when we were arrested,” Gretel interrupted. “Why’d you volunteer us for this rescue mission?”

Jack’s gaze cut straight to her heart. “Because I knew I could save your lives if I accepted it. Brellek didn’t know I was an agent, and when he found out he couldn’t back out of the deal. You’ll both be free when this is over.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hansel said.

Jack sighed. “We should hurry, because someone might recognize me. And you don’t want to get caught by Agathar. He’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”

“Why didn’t this come up before our lives were in danger?”

Jack’s eyes slid shut briefly. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you. I’m not supposed to be telling you now.”

“You’ve been lying to us all this time! I thought we were partners.”

Jack just shook his head. “There isn’t time for this. We need to get going.”

“Hansel,” Gretel said loudly, snagging her brother’s attention. “Let’s go.”

Hansel paced a tight circle as he reined in his temper, then bowed with an exaggerated swagger. “Well, by all means, Jack, lead the way. You’re the expert.”

Jack led them down the hall and around a corner. He pointed at a narrow staircase that looked too small for a giant to descend. “Down there. It’s the back entrance that the servants use. It won’t be guarded like the other one.”

“Stop!”

They all turned, startled, at the thundering voice. A servant stood in at the end of the hall, hands on his hips, his face twisted with a scowl. Gretel recognized him. It was the steward. The keys around his waist clanked. “What are you doing?” The steward demanded. “Who are you?”

“Ah ... we’re looking for a place to rehearse for the wedding,” Hansel said, tapping his violin case as he spoke. “We just need a quiet room, that’s all.”

Gretel and Jack exchanged glances. Would the servant buy it, or would he sound the alarm?

The steward’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. He stepped forward, scrutinizing their faces. Gretel felt Jack shift nervously.

“Why were you heading down that staircase?”

“We thought there might be a room we could use,” Gretel said. She smiled at him. “Is there?”

“No,” the steward snapped. “Don’t go poking around into corners here. You’ll get yourselves into a load of trouble.” He hesitated, sweeping his gaze over them one more time. “I might have a place you can use.”

They relaxed. He was buying it.

“Wait,” the steward said. He folded his arms, his mouth turning down. “I want to see proof.”

“What?” Hansel asked, with the innocence of an angel on his face. “What do you mean?”

Jack grabbed his arm before he could say anything else. “We should play one of our pieces,” he said. “The one with my solo, perhaps.”

Hansel and Gretel both looked at him like he was crazy, but Jack was smiling. He bent down, opened his case, and pulled out the instrument. After a short pause, the other thieves did the same. The steward waited, arms still folded.

Jack lifted his violin to his shoulder and tucked it under his chin. Gretel lifted hers and copied him. She had no idea how to hold the bow, but she tried to act confident anyway. She set the bow against the strings. Hansel was fumbling with his. He dropped the bow, and the steward raised his eyebrows.

“Ready?” Jack asked. A trickle of sweat dripped down Gretel’s spine. She managed a nod. Hansel was glaring daggers at him.

Jack lifted his blow, and they copied him. They all played one long, shivery note. Gretel winced ... but it actually wasn’t too bad. She kept playing the same note, and Hansel was plucking at the strings of his instrument like a madman, and Jack began playing a wild solo with the skill of a master musician.

It actually sounded kind of ... good.

The steward was visibly startled. Clearly he’d been expecting them to fail. His countenance wilted when he realized he was not going to be able to drag them before Agathar as spies. He waved a hand, and they quit playing.

“Fine,” he said. “I see that you are musicians. I’ll take you to a place where you can practice. But no more wandering around, understand?”

They mumbled responses, and the steward turned his back.

That was when Jack smashed him over the head with his violin case.

“What are you doing?” Hansel yelped. “He believed us! I just played a
violin
and somebody actually believed I knew what I was doing!”

“He would have recognized me. Not right away, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn’t quite sure who I was, but he was working on remembering.” Jack glanced around quickly and then pulled off his bowtie. “Here, help me tie him up.”

~

The thieves left the steward in a closet and then hustled down the stairs. They reached the dungeon, breathless, and crept quietly across the hard-packed dirt floor. A row of cages stretched along a stone wall. Light filtered in through slits near the roof. Faintly, Gretel could hear water dripping.

“Princess Alana?” Jack tried, in a loud whisper.

A rustle of cloth. A rasping breath. Then—“Who’s there?”

“The Grimm Brothers,” Hansel said.

“The Grimm Brothers? You mean the notorious thieves?”

“We’ve come to rescue you,” Gretel said.

As their eyes adjusted, they spotted the girl behind the bars. Her long brown hair was matted and tangled, her white dress muddy and torn. When she saw them, she crawled forward and wrapped her fingers around the bars that kept her a prisoner. “Did my father send you?”

“Sort of,” Jack said, crouching in front of her and speaking softly. Beside him, Hansel started picking the lock with a piece of metal from his pocket. “We’re going to get you out of here, Princess.”

“Careful, or the guards will hear,” she whispered.

“The guards,” Hansel repeated. He looked behind them. A doorway, barely visible, cast a sliver of light across the floor. It flickered with shadows.

“They’re behind that door,” she said. “Two of them.”

“I see it,” Jack said. “And I’ve got a plan.”

~

The guards heard the squeak of the cell door over the radio. They lumbered out to investigate, and saw that the door was slightly ajar. The princess was still huddled in the corner, though, her ragged jacket hugged tight around her body.