Jacklyn and the Beanstalk CH11

Chapter 11

Jacklyn awoke before dawn, and was less than surprised to see Wyatt already awake. After all, he was still sick, and had to sleep on the ground on top of that.

"How're you feeling?" she asked, sliding off his chest so he could sit up.

"Tired... But aside from that, not bad."

"Sorry you had to sleep in the dirt," she said, smiling apologetically.

He chuckled. "A small price to pay."

"The stalk looks ready," she said, looking up at the tall shadow that was the beanstalk.

"Does it?" Wyatt asked, scooting closer to the stalk so he could grab onto one of the vines. "I can barely see right now," he said. "I think we should wait til it gets a little lighter before we try to climb this."

"You can't see in the dark?" she asked.

"Not really. But it's almost never this dark above the clouds, except when I douse the lanterns to sleep. Are nights here always this dark?"

She snorted. "At least. That's what happens when the clouds block out the stars and moon."

He stared up at the sky, his brow furrowing in thought. "And... you said... it's always like this here?"

"Cloudy? Yeah. As long as I can remember, and as long as my parents could remember."

"Hmm... Is all of the surface like this? Covered in clouds?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. I've heard tell of people traveling far enough to see the sun. Supposedly, magic will even start working again, if you get far enough."

"Well... That makes sense. Magic comes from the sun, after all."

"Does it?" she said, surprised.

"You didn't know?"

She shook her head. "No... Maybe that was only something the giants realized. That could be why your ancestors wanted to be above the clouds. Since you wouldn't have enough food without magic to conjure it..."

"Hm," he said again, apparently lost in thought.

"What is it?" she asked.

"How... Exactly how long as it been cloudy here? Do you know? Does anyone?"

"Most people think it's been about a century... why?"

"Damn... I should have realized it sooner..." he said, troubled.

"What?"

"My castle was built a little over a century ago. I think it might be the reason the clouds won't move. The timing can't be coincidence," he frowned.

"It could..." she said hesitantly.

"I guess it's possible... Still, I'll need to look into it when we get back..."

Jacklyn nodded wordlessly. She truly hoped Wyatt's ancestors were not responsible for Revelle's problems, but given the timing of things... She had to admit it would be irresponsible not to look into it. But what if the castle was the reason the clouds didn't move? What could they even do about it? She sighed inwardly, realizing they would have to cross that bridge when they came to it.  

"Do you hear that?" Wyatt asked.

She paused, listening. She heard nothing out of the ordinary. "No... But your hearing is way better than mine," she pointed out.

"And your night-vision is better than mine," he said, holding out his hand for her. He placed her on his shoulder and stood, looking in the direction of Revelle. Even at this height, she could barely make out the lights of the village in the distance. Although what she saw was much more frightening.

In the distance, there was a dark mass approaching. Jacklyn could only assume it was the people of Revelle. Several held torches that created points of light, illuminating parts of the crowd. Although they were too far away for Jacklyn to make out much detail.

"Oh no..." she breathed. "Wyatt, there's a bunch of people headed this way. At least a hundred or so."

"What?!" he yelped, lowering himself into a crouching position. "Did they see me?"

"Probably. I think they see the stalk, anyway," she said, troubled.

"But it's the middle of the night! How would they even think to look..." He trailed off, glancing at the overturned cart. He lifted it up, and, as he suspected, Jacklyn's father was gone. "Damn," Wyatt muttered.

Jacklyn glanced at the eastern horizon, seeing the first traces of sunlight through the clouds. "If you can manage it, we should start climbing now. It will be light soon, but the villagers will be here sooner."

"A-Alright," Wyatt said nervously.

"Just... be careful. Don't worry about the villagers, just focus on climbing," she said.

He nodded and the two began their ascent. As they progressed, Jacklyn watched the villagers heading toward the stalk. She and Wyatt were a little over halfway up the stalk when the villagers arrived at the farm, surrounding the base of the huge plant.

Wyatt glanced down, the light of the rising sun allowing him to see what was going on below. "It doesn't look like they're climbing it," he said, puzzled.

Suddenly, a violent shudder shook the stalk. "They're cutting it down!" Jacklyn cried, alarmed.

"Trying to, anyway," Wyatt said, trying to remain calm. Nevertheless, Jacklyn noticed his speed was picking up.

Jacklyn glanced up, seeing the lower edge of the clouds was fairly close. For Wyatt, it was about one body-length away. "Almost-" she began, but was cut off when another tremor shook the stalk. Wyatt's foot slipped, his boot catching between two vines.

"I'm stuck!" He lifted Jacklyn off his shoulder and set her on one of the vines just above his head. "Keep going. I'll catch up when I'm out."

"No! I'm not leaving you!" she said.

"Jacklyn..."

"We're getting back to the castle together, Wyatt," she said stubbornly.

He sighed, not wanting to waste time arguing. Though a part of him was flattered by her devotion, he did not have time to think about that right now. He leaned down, trying to get a grip on one of the vines his foot was tangled in. As he struggled, the vine shuddered again, this time swaying more violently. At the same moment Wyatt freed his foot, Jacklyn lost her grip on the vine and the motion of the stalk sent her sailing outward, away from it.

Wyatt reacted instantly, swinging his arm out to grab her and pull her to his chest. In his panic, he gripped too hard and pulled her to himself too quickly, and his efforts were rewarded with a sickening crack and a shriek of pain.

"Jacklyn?" Wyatt cried, panicking. He unfolded his hand and raised it to eye level, afraid of what he would see. Jacklyn lay in his palm, cringing in pain as tears streamed down her face. She looked fairly unharmed, which only told Wyatt whatever damage he had done was internal.

Another tremor shook the stalk and Wyatt forced himself to resume his climb. However, with only one hand he was making very little progress. With his free hand, he tore off a portion of his tunic and wrapped Jacklyn in it. He brought the corners together, forming a sort of bag, which he then held in his teeth.

Carrying Jacklyn in a bag- in his mouth no less- was horrid and undignified. But it was the best he could do. Climbing the stalk one-handed put both of them at risk, and Jacklyn was in no condition to try to hold onto Wyatt or the stalk on her own.

The stalk was beginning to lean forward, and Wyatt used that to his advantage. Climbing at an angle was easier than climbing straight up, and he quickly moved through the bottom of the clouds and finally broke through the top. Once on the clouds, he once again took Jacklyn in his hands and ran away from the stalk, towards the castle. In a moment the stalk gave one last shudder, then fell, the top of it tearing a small hole in the clouds as it fell.

Satisfied that they were no longer in any immediate danger, Wyatt knelt on the clouds, carefully setting Jacklyn down. "Jacklyn? W-We made it, we're above the clouds... I-I'm so sorry, I..." he trailed off.

"It's... not your fault," she said slowly, each breath making her flinch.

"Jacklyn... what've I done to you...?" he whispered. He reached for her, then pulled back, afraid of hurting her again. This is exactly what he had feared when he first met her, and the main reason he had waited for her to approach him rather than trying to catch her when they met.

"Don't be silly Wyatt... You saved me. I was falling." She smiled up at him, lifting a hand.

Hesitantly, he lowered his hand so that she could rest hers on top of it.

"It hurts, but I'll be fine," she said, rubbing his hand reassuringly. "Will you take me back to the castle?"

The thought of moving her worried him, but he knew she was right. As soft as the clouds were, it would be better for her to be in an actual bed and out of the sun. "Alright... I-I'm going to pick you up," he said. Slowly he slid a hand under her, doing his best not to jar her too much. Even so, the slight movement caused her to bite her lip to keep from crying out. "Sorry," he whispered once he had her.

He carried her back to the castle as quickly as he could, doing his best to keep his gait smooth and even so she wouldn't be jostled too much. He lay her down on her bed, then sat down on his own, watching her. He wished he could hold her hand or stroke her hair to offer her a bit of comfort, but he no longer trusted himself.