Jane gasped, her hands flying to her face. "A—a dragon? As in fire-breathing flying creature? They exist?"

"They do here!" Orson shot at her.

She was too frightened to scowl at him for being mean. "I'm really going to have to steal from a dragon?" she squeaked.

"Yes!" Mr. Thomas declared. "But I'm not completely unreasonable. Orson is going with you to help."

Orson began to laugh until he realized what his father had said, then his chuckle died away. "Wait... what?" He blinked under arched eyebrows. "I'm going with her?"

"Unclog your ears, son! You let her in here. If you want to have any chance of getting back into my good graces, you'll go with her."

"But—"

"Orson," Mr. Thomas said, rolling his eyes, "she stole her way into my castle like a foul rat on your watch. Be quiet and accept your fate." He crossed his arms to glare at his son. "Unless, of course, you want to continue down the road of disgrace and disinheritance?"

Orson stiffened. "No, sir."

"Good!" the giant said with a fake cheerfulness that felt ominous. "Then it's settled. You, my good-for-nothing son, will take the foul-smelling English girl and the mosquito north to the mountain. The lot of you will sneak in, steal as much gold as you can carry, scurry out, and return. If you bring enough, I'll let her go."

"How much? What does it cost to buy her freedom?" Shelly demanded, being the practical fairy she was. She knew that, unless they settled on an amount, nothing they brought back would be enough.

The giant knew it too, and he scowled at the question. He regarded Shelly with evil eyes making it clear that he resented her for seeing the trap. After a moment, a wicked grin spread across his face. "Her weight in gold," he said a smugness that only accented the pretended happiness from a moment ago.

Jane gasped again. "That's a lot! How will we get away with all that? There's a dragon!" Her eyes shined with welling tears.

"Figure it out!" Mr. Thomas bellowed. "Now, we are done here," he declared, turning away in dismissal.

Jane winced when Orson grabbed her again to drag her away back down the hall. There was no need; she was more than happy to go with him to get away from the giant. She supposed that she should be grateful he hadn't decided to grind her bones.

Once well out of sight, he dropped her arm and rounded on her. "You!" he lifted a finger, pointing it in her face. "You are responsible for this," he yelled. "Now, I have to 'prove myself' in this ridiculous adventure!"

Jane narrowed her eyes. "Money? Is that all you giants think about?"

"It's not about the money," Orson bellowed.

"That what's it about?" Jane shouted back.

Orson deflated. "I want—I want my father to respect me."

Jane was surprised. "He doesn't approve of you?"

He shook his head and shared, as if it meant the world, "I'm the smallest."

"What?" Jane was puzzled. "I don't understand."

"Smallest. I'm not as big as my brothers. I'm not going to be... well, a giant giant."

Jane couldn't believe what she heard. "Wait, he doesn't approve of you because you're short?" Her mouth hung open.

He gave her a sidelong look. "We're supposed to be big! I'm not."

She scoffed. "Do you not see me looking up at you? You're way bigger than me!"

He rolled his eyes. "You're just an Englishwoman. What do you know?"

"I know that it hurts when someone you love doesn't approve of you."

Shelly groaned. "Will you two quit with the boo-hoo pity party? We have important things to plan!"

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Orson scowled at the little fairy. "Look here, mosquito—"

Before he could say another word, Shelly flittered in his face. Somehow, the small, winged creature in a yellow tutu managed to look menacing. Maybe it had something to do with the enormous thorn she carried to threaten him.

"No! You will not use that name. I tolerate it from your father because of political dohickey, but I don't have to take it from you!"

From her expression, Orson did not doubt that she was serious. He studied the thorn and wondered if she'd take an eye out. Regardless of her intentions, he felt remorseful about using the slur when it upset her. He hadn't known that it did.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know the name bothered you. You never reacted when my father used it..."

"Of course, I didn't, idiot. Never give the enemy the advantage!" she proclaimed, brandishing the thorn uncomfortably close to his nose.

He jerked back from the motion. "Am I the enemy, too?"

The question gave her pause. She thought about it and huffed. "Maybe. Are you a bully like your father?"

"Yes," Jane answered.

"No," he replied.

They looked at each other.

"You are, too," Jane said. "I mean, you seem okay when he's not around, except for the part where you drag me around by my arm."

"What? No, I perfectly fine, even when he's around."

"No, you're not. You were mean! It's like you were trying to be like him to impress him," Shelly explained.

"I don't do that!" Orson couldn't believe what she was saying.

"You were totally mean to Jane!" Shelly pointed the thorn at him.

"I was not!"

"Were too!"

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"Guys!" Jane interjected. "Stop!" She looked at Orson. "You may not think so, or even remember, but you changed as soon as he was around. I mean, you had thought to convince him to let me go until we actually were around him. It seemed like all thoughts of helping me went out of your head!"

Orson deflated. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah, short boy!" Shelly yelled, still stabbing the air with her weapon.

"Hey!" He took a step back; she had gotten a little too close. "If I can't call you mosquito, you can't call me short!"

"What? Don't be—"

"He has a point," Jane interjected.

Shelly pursed her lips and whipped the thorn through the air one last time. "Fine. I won't call you short if you won't call me mosquito. Deal?"

"Deal," Orson agreed. "Now, will you put that thing away before you hurt someone? Namely me?" He eyed her plant-based sword.

"Okay, but I won't hesitate to use it if you get out of line," she assured him as she slipped it through a loop on her belt. The fact it was a fairy-sized sword was evident.

"I can't believe fairies exist! And dragons! I mean, we didn't even know about magic beans and giants until Jack. Now, it's like a storybook! You'd think we were living in a fairytale or something."

Shelly scoffed. "Of course we're real. We just do an excellent job of hiding."

"Well, most of you do." Orson grinned.

The fairy, still flitting, wagged a finger. "Don't be mean."

Even Jane scowled at him.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. I just think it's a little funny, that's all."

Jane tried to smother a chuckle. "Okay, maybe it is a little funny."

Shelly put her hands on her hips. "You two stop it, or I'll go home. You need me!"

Orson's brows knitted together. "We do? I mean, no offense, but how? You might be good with the thorn, but..."

"You need my satchel. I can give it to Jane, and it will grow to be her size as long as I'm around."

Orson pinched the bridge of his nose. Good grief, I wish she would make sense. "And that helps us how?"

"It's a special pouch. It will carry anything you want to without any weight. How else will we get away with Jane's weight in gold?"

"A magic bag!" Jane exclaimed, excited. "You'd loan it to me?"

"If it means thwarting ol' Thomas and helping get you out of here alive, yeah." She pulled the strap over her head and handed it to Jane.

Orson watched as Jane held out her hand and Shelly put the bag in it. Even his mouth fell open when it began to increase in size. Within seconds, she held a messenger bag that would ride comfortably on a hip. She immediately removed her bag of supplies put the strap of her new acquisition over her head and across her chest.

"How does it work?" she asked, stroking the smooth, worn leather.

Shelly rolled her eyes. "Magic, silly."

"Oh."

"Hey, that's not fair," Orson pointed out. "She's only just met you and doesn't know how any magic, other than beans, work."

Shelly sighed. "Yeah, okay, that's a good point." She turned to Jane. "I'm sorry. The bag does work on magic. You can put anything you want to carry in it. You should take all the stuff out of your bag and try it out."

"Oh! Good idea!" Jane knelt, placed her bag on the floor, and stuffed everything into the satchel. "Wow! It doesn't weigh anything!"

"That's what I said! And, the cool thing is, whatever it is that you want comes to the top. Try it."

Jane smiled. "I want a piece of bread. I'm starving!"

Orson had to admit even he was impressed when she simply reached in and pulled out her bread. He smiled when Jane took a bite.

"I'm kind of hungry, too. Maybe we should go to the kitchen and eat before starting to gather supplies?"

"Yes, please." Jane put the bread back in the bag.

Orson turned to the fairy. "What is your name? Obviously, it's not mosquito," he grinned.

Shelly stuck her tongue out at him. "No, obviously not. It's Shelly, thank you."

"Shelly." Jane tried out her name as if it were a great challenge. "That's a nice name."

"Thank you! It's short for Shelebanisefaeynore."

Jane stumbled over the longer name.

"Yeah." Shelly laughed. "It's a mouthful. It's my grandmother's name. Been passed down through the family for generations. It's always shortened to Shelly."

"Well, I guess you know I'm Jane."

"Yes. And your sister is Audrey. She's a cute kid."

"I'm Orson."

Shelly inclined her head. "Nice to meet you, Orson," she said, being proper. She looked from one to the other. "I have a favor to ask."

"Oh?" Orson was curious. "What's that?"

"I'm tired of flying. Can I hitch a ride on one of you?"

"Yes!" Jane immediately agreed. Orson was glad. He wasn't sure he wanted that needle-sword anywhere near his eye.

Shelly flitted over to Jane and landed gently on her shoulder. "I can ride here, but I need to grab your ear for balance when you move. Will that be okay?"

"Of course!"

"Great! Thanks! Now, let's go adventuring!"

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