Twisted Tales

Up, Up, and Away

         I swallowed hard. He was right. I'd already come this far, I could go a little farther. It didn't matter if I was afraid or not, I had to do something. Somehow I managed to pry my eyes open again, and I looked at Erik's grim face, pale in the weak moonlight. He had one arm hooked around a vine, and the other hung awkwardly at his side.

         "Erik—what's wrong with your arm?"

         He grimaced. "Nothing."

         "No, seriously, what's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?"

         "I'm fine."

         "Is it from when the giant hurt you? Is it still hurt?"

         "It was better before, it wasn't hurt that bad."

         "It looks like it hurts now though!"

         Erik ground his teeth in frustration, but I got the sense that it was frustration with himself, not with me. "...Yes, it hurts now. This climb hasn't been easy on it. And hanging around here waiting for you to get a grip on yourself isn't helping either. So please, let's just go and get to the top of this damn tower already."

         "Go ahead of me," I told him.

         "No."

         "Go on, I'll just slow you down! Go ahead, I'll catch up."

         "No. I'm not moving until you go first."

         My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking, but I had no choice. He clearly wasn't going to go anywhere until I started moving again myself, and with his hurt arm, the longer I remained frozen with anxiety, the more difficult the climb would be for him. It was the push I needed to force me to unclench my death grip on the leaf stem and reach for the next one above my head, pulling myself up another foot.

         Hand over hand, foot by foot, I continued to climb, focusing on the dark silhouette of Jack above me, and the faint light shining through the shuttered tower window like a lighthouse beacon. Below me, I heard Erik's labored breathing as he too continued the seemingly endless climb.

         Somehow, I made it. With an enormous effort of will, I heaved myself up the last two feet of beanstalk until I drew level with Jack, the shuttered window set in the top of the tallest tower so close, we could reach out and touch it.

         It took almost two minutes for Erik to catch up, and when he finally did, I saw that he was pale and sweating. His bad arm, the one wounded in the giant attack, shook badly anytime he put any of his weight on it.

         "Hurry up," he grunted, slightly breathlessly, and jerked his head towards the window. "What are you waiting for, an invitation?"

         "Are you okay?" Jack asked, his brow furrowing at the sight of Erik's obvious distress.

         "I'm fine," Erik snarled through his teeth, "just go already."

         "Are the shutters fastened?" I asked Jack, who was closer to the window and could see it better in the weak moonlight.

         "I can't tell; if they are, it would be from the inside," he replied.

         "Kick the damn things in if you have to," Erik snarled.

         Jack didn't kick them in, but he did stretch out one long, lanky leg to give them a push with his boot. They rattled, but didn't open.

         "I think they're unfastened, but they open outwards, not inwards," he said. "I'll have to grab them to pull them open, but..." he glanced down at the eighty foot drop into blackness below us, and the three foot gap that was between the beanstalk where we clung and the wall of the tower. It was slightly too far out of reach for him to be able to reach the window ledge without having to take both his hands off the beanstalk. It could be done, but I certainly didn't blame him for being hesitant to try it.