“I’m . . .” she began. Her whole head suddenly buzzed and her knees felt wobbly. It took everything she had left not to topple over. Then, just as quickly, the sensation was gone. “. . . I’m fine?”
Evie took a deep breath and was shocked to feel her lungs expand without pain—she hadn’t even realized how sore they had become until they weren’t. Had Fable done something magical to her? Her joints, which had been screaming at her since they had begun their reckless race through the forest, felt strangely limber and strong. She looked down at her hand. Across her fingers was a streak of red from her bloody lip—and within the smear sparkled the residue of the glittering powder. Evie blinked, trying to make sense of the feelings coursing through her.
“Help!” Tinn’s voice sounded strained, and Evie pulled her attention toward it. “Help me!” he cried. “I can’t move it!”
What remained of the rig had collapsed completely. The giant’s blow must have finished it off. Steel braces had bent and twisted, and splintered scraps of wood littered the ground to the left and right of Old Jim. Extraordinarily, the man seemed to have missed the worst of it, but Tinn had not been so lucky.
A timber as thick across as Tinn’s chest had landed on the boy’s leg. Tinn’s face was pale. Cole was already at his brother’s side, and in an instant Fable had bounded over to join them. They pulled as Tinn pushed, their arms shaking from the strain, but the heavy beam refused to budge.
Evie ran forward and wedged her fingers under the wood beside them. Maybe, if they all pulled at the same time . . .
The beam lifted a fraction as her fingers slid under it. Evie tensed. Her muscles tightened. The beam rose.
She almost dropped it the second it was up. She had expected the dead weight of a mountain, but the wood under her fingers felt soft and light, like she was lifting a cardboard box and not a timber as wide as she was. She gripped tighter and raised it over her head, her fingers pressing into the pliant wood like it was a sponge.
Fable took hold of Tinn’s arms and dragged him out. It took Evie a moment to realize that Cole had let go of the beam as well. He stood back, gaping at her. She, alone, was holding the heavy beam aloft.
“How?” Cole managed.
The timber thudded like a falling tree as Evie dropped it.
Evie looked from Cole to Fable to Tinn. Tinn was lying flat on his back. He was starting to look green, but she couldn’t tell if this was from the pain or if his goblin blood was kicking in under the strain. Finally she looked down at her own hands again. She felt queasy. “I—I don’t know,” she mumbled.
“Seriously?” said Cole. “So, does everybody get to have amazing powers except for me?”
“Nice job,” said Fable. “Is magic strength a princess thing?”
Evie’s insides were twisting in knots. “What’s happening to me?” she said.
“Grind his . . . bones,” mumbled Tinn, “to make . . . my bread.”
“Is he delirious?” said Cole.
“No—listen.” Tinn pushed himself up to sitting with great effort, wincing as the weight on his leg shifted. “Kull told me . . . giants used to have this tradition . . . of eating the bodies of their dead . . . so their essence could live on. They literally ground their bones to make bread.”
“That sparkly stuff on the drill,” said Cole. “You think that’s dead giants?”
“I rubbed my lip,” said Evie, blinking. The wooziness was beginning to wear off, but her stomach was still rolling. “I was bleeding.”
“I think maybe,” Tinn grunted, “you got some giant . . . in your bloodstream.”
“I don’t feel good,” said Evie. “I think I might be sick.”
“No wonder they’re so angry!” blurted Fable. “It was never about the tree at all! Spriggans aren’t tree spirits, they’re the spirits of giants! That’s why they protect these parts. It’s their burial ground! Holy heck. Are all the Grandmother Trees growing on top of dead giants?”
“Hill wasn’t just taking soil samples,” said Cole. “He was robbing a grave, and he didn’t even realize it. That’s why giants destroyed his pump.”
“And why the spriggans have been going around the forest trying to get everyone all jumpy about humans!” Fable clenched her fist. “I told Hill this was his fault!”
“I think we just figured out the secret ingredient to Hill’s ‘fortifying elixir,’” said Evie with a shudder. Her head was clearing, and she once more felt as if she had run a marathon. “Ugh. My dad’s been drinking diluted giant corpse for days.”
“This is it!” Cole said, his eyes alight. “This is how we stop the fighting!”
Three sets of eyes turned toward him.
“Hill might not have known what he had, but he knew it was special. He saved all the soil samples. He still has them stashed somewhere. His golden goose, remember? We just need to get him to return what he stole so the spirits of the giants can be at peace. Peaceful giants, peaceful spriggans, peaceful forest. We can all call off the attack.”
“You really think it’ll work?” said Tinn.
“I think it’s better than waiting for everybody to kill each other,” Cole said. “You think you can walk?”
Tinn pushed himself up. His face contorted and he collapsed back to the ground immediately. He shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he grunted.
“I’ll stay with Tinn,” said Evie. “Go. You two will be faster without us.”
Fable looked at Cole. Cole nodded.
“Okay,” Fable said. “All we have to do is find a guy in the middle of a battlefield and convince him to give his golden goose to a bunch of monsters.”
“Preferably before anybody murders him,” said Cole. “Or us.”
“Right,” said Fable. “Here goes.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
It took three tries, but the wild-wall finally parted in response to Fable’s urging. The knots unfurled reluctantly in front of her, unraveling and reshaping until they formed a narrow, arched opening.
“Good
