Chapter 1
Chapter One
JAX
“I’m vine. This is vine. Everything is vine.”
Jax’s laughter at his own joke was pinched and only slightly hysterical as he clutched the thick vines with a white-knuckled grip. The toe of one foot slipped off a narrow foothold, leaving him hanging precariously for a moment over the sharp rocks twenty feet below.
In the uphill battle between Jax and the Beanstalk, the Beanstalk was winning.
“‘Trust the wizard,’ they said,” he muttered through clenched teeth as his feet scrambled for stable purchase.
Once he was confident that the rocks under his boots would hold him, he relaxed enough to continue his vertical ascent up the narrow space in the cliffside.
The thick, hardy vines that acted as ropes were the only reason the passage was climbable at all, and Jax still wasn’t certain that it would lead to anywhere remotely inhabitable.
“‘The wizard won’t steer you wrong.’ Right.
He’ll just steal my egg and steer me right up a cliff. ”
His arms and shoulders burned with effort despite his best attempts to use his legs to support his weight.
“I don’t understand. Do wizards train for climbing mountains?
The man has to be at least a thousand years old.
Does he have wings? Maybe he’s actually part bird.
Which is great for me,” he grunted as the distance between viable footholds meant he had to pull himself up hand over hand to the next one.
“Being a Bird Catcher and all. It means I’ll find him, and I’ll finally get my egg back. ”
At last, after what felt like an eternity, he reached the top and dragged himself over the edge.
He flopped onto his back, blinking up at the clear blue of the afternoon sky as he stretched out his trembling limbs and breathed deeply to fill his burning lungs.
“That’s the last time I climb a cliff,” he announced for any living thing that might be listening.
“Except for the way down, of course, but then we’ll have gravity working in our favor. ”
After a few long moments, he pushed himself up to standing and adjusted the wide strap of his leather satchel on his shoulder.
He turned away from the cliffside, taking in the lay of the land.
The gently sloped ground at his feet was covered in short, hardy grass dotted with wildflowers and it led up and away to a line of some kind of fruit trees—peach, he guessed, though it was hard to tell from such a distance.
Beyond the trees he could see the rooftop of a large manor house with gray stone walls and a turreted tower, more castle-like than any place he had ever called home.
The trees were thicker to his left, hiding a second, lower building in the dense foliage.
Jax closed his eyes and breathed deeply, quieting his mind and listening for the faint strains of magic that he had followed all the way from his home Court in Faerie.
The birdsong was weaker here, as if he were listening underwater or through a heavy wooden door, and he had to strain his ears to identify the particular magic he was searching for.
The bright, fiery music was layered and complex, with syncopated rhythms over a low, simmering bass that hinted at dynamic power that had yet to be realized.
The melodic range was subdued, with a chord progression that looped in an endless circle.
It was still the same as the first time he had heard it, which was a small comfort, at least, as it meant the egg had yet to hatch.
The last thing he needed was to try to climb down the cliff with a baby dragon in tow.
He opened his eyes slowly, keeping them slightly out of focus to allow his magical senses to identify the dim, fading stream of sparkling orange light that trailed away into the trees.
If he were home in Faerie, the magic would be vibrant and unmistakable, but there was something about the air here in the human realm that diluted magic.
“I don’t know what that wizard was thinking, but the sooner I can get that egg and go home, the better,” he muttered. “I feel like I’m walking around with feather pillows strapped over my ears.”
He followed the dragon song through the trees, eventually giving up on following the light and relying on his ears after tripping over the blurry ground for the third time.
It led him through the straight, even rows of an orchard, across an open yard, and to the second building he had seen, which, by the smell and sound of it, seemed to be some combination of a barn and a chicken coop.
Jax slipped through a side door, waiting a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting.
The dragon song was loud enough that it was obviously coming from somewhere in the building, but it bounced and echoed around the room, making it hard to pinpoint where exactly it was.
Straw dust, visible in the slanted rays of light that filtered through the spaces between the boards, floated lazily in the air.
The floor was covered in a carpet of the stuff, and a large pile stood like a shaggy mountain in the corner.
Long poles were attached to one wall, allowing the plump chickens to roost in two levels, while brooding hens nested in the straw beneath, glaring at him with beady, suspicious eyes.
“Of course he would hide it in here,” he groaned. “Chickens. Why did it have to be chickens?”
As if in answer, the hens began a chorus of agitated clucking.
Jax held out his hands and dropped his tone to a soothing murmur. “I’m sorry, ladies. It’s nothing personal. I’m sure you’re very lovely.” His eyes scanned the room as he edged closer, looking for the telltale gold of the dragon egg. “You didn’t happen to see where he put it, did you?”
They didn’t answer—not that he actually expected them to—and Jax dropped to his hands and knees with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m afraid this situation is going to bring us closer than any of us would like, but if you don’t mind…”
He crawled along the length of the wall underneath the roosting poles, checking each nest for his missing egg.
The chickens were none too pleased, raising a chorus of unhappy squawks and pecking at his hands and arms. He was just turning around to do another pass when the main door of the barn flew open with enough force that it hit the inside wall with a loud bang.
Jax’s startled yelp died in his throat as he took in the figure standing in the doorway, brandishing an axe that would have taken at least three of his arms to lift and lit from behind with the late afternoon glow.
Jax wasn’t the tallest in his family, but the man before him put even the largest of his cousins to shame. If he had to guess, the giant was well over seven feet tall, with a frame wide enough to match and a scowl on his face that probably made most men tremble.
But Jax wasn’t most men. He was a Papageno, and though he might not have been fond of chickens, he certainly wasn’t going to cower in the corner like one.
“Well, that’s certainly a way to make an entrance.
” He crawled forward until he was free of the roosting pole and stood, brushing the straw from his knees and straightening the strap of his satchel.
He grinned up at the terrifying giant, channeling every inch of charm that he possessed.
“Do you greet all your visitors by brandishing an axe, or am I just special?”
The question seemed to catch the giant by surprise. He blinked twice before adjusting his grip on the handle of the axe. “You’re not visiting, you’re breaking in.”
“Did I break something?” Jax responded, purposefully playing the empty-headed fool as he made a show of looking around. “I was trying to be very careful.”
The giant did not seem to be impressed by his charming fool act. He growled, “Get out.”
I can’t leave before I get that egg.
He gave the giant his full attention once more. “Before I go, I have just one question, Mister…” He let his voice trail off expectantly, hoping to give a name to the intimidating man before him.
Being able to name a fear made it far less terrifying.
“Atlas.”
“Atlas,” he repeated, adding a touch of false confidence into his introduction. “My name’s Jax.”
Atlas was even less impressed with the introductions. He stepped forward, crowding Jax’s space until he had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact.
“Look, Lassie—can I call you Lassie?” Jax forged ahead. Perfect. There’s nothing to fear from a Lassie. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you’ve seen anyone else lurking around here lately? Tall, white hair, evil eyes that gleam, general mayhem in his wake, has a habit of breaking and entering?”
It wasn’t an entirely fair description. Drosselmeyer wasn’t really evil, and usually his proximity to mayhem was a classic case of correlation instead of causation, but Jax was still bitter about the fact that the wizard had taken his dragon egg, and so he stretched the truth just enough to make himself feel better.
“The only person matching that description is you,” Atlas grumbled.
He widened his eyes and touched the top of his head, knocking loose a piece of straw that had gotten stuck in his hair. “Really? It’s been a while since I’ve seen my reflection, but I didn’t realize I would age that quickly.”
A muscle along the side of the giant’s jaw flexed. “You have five seconds to leave before I start swinging.”
Wow. Someone needs to give this guy a cookie or something. He definitely needs to lighten up.
Jax shook his head and tsked in disappointment. “Your hospitality could use a little work, Lassie.”
Atlas lifted the axe just a little higher as he spoke slowly, “Four seconds now.”
I don’t really want to fight him. If we were back in the Spring Court, I might have enough magic to take him, but in this realm, he’ll squish me like a bug. I just need a way to distract—hey!