Chapter 14: Impossibly Fast and Strong

Seeking feedback on my work-in-process cozy fantasy novel, Jack and the Beanstalk Cafe.

Jack

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Everything hurt.

Jack could tell he was lying on something hard and cold. His head ached in a way he’d never experienced before and his eyelids felt like they were held down by weights.

But he knew he was safe– he could hear Gillian just a few feet away, talking and giggling and gasping to herself. The corner of his mouth attempted to pull up in a smile, but his body wasn’t cooperating.

He’d listened for several minutes while his muddled mind waded through the fog, skull pounding to the rhythm of his heart. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here– wherever here was. Gillian was chatting away to herself about their research, but why was he on what felt like the floor?

He finally managed to work up the strength to speak, the words dragging from his throat, scratchy and raw from disuse.

Gillian gasped.

“Jack!” She breathed his name out with so much emotion, it sounded to him like she’d been waiting days or weeks to say it.

Suddenly, he could feel hands everywhere. Gentle hands swept down his arms, then fingers delicately ran across his scalp, an ice cold palm cupped his cheek.

“You’re ok, you’re alive,” Gillian whispered, her breath dancing across his lips.

Using every reserve of energy he had, he lifted his eyelids and was rewarded with the most beautiful dark eyes he’d ever seen. Gillian’s face filled Jack’s entire view, hovering inches from his. Her eyes were glassy and crinkled at the edges. Her hair cascaded off her shoulders and surrounded them both like a curtain.

“Gill,” he whispered, the side of his mouth pulling up in an involuntary smile.

As soon as the words left his mouth, her lips were on his.

Gentle at first, brushing across his tentatively before drifting away. But he quickly remedied this, his fingers sinking into the silken strands at the nape of her neck, pulling her mouth back down to his.

Her lips were cold at first, but quickly warmed as the kiss deepened. She tasted like vanilla and honey and hope and fireworks. All thoughts of aches and fatigue left him as he pushed himself up on one elbow, all the while keeping a grip on Gillian’s soft skin.

She felt like a piece of himself that had been missing his whole life, and he was never letting her go.

Gillian was kneeling beside him and her hands tangled in his hair as he attempted to sit upright without breaking the kiss. A sharp pain ran through his side at the movement and he winced.

She let him go quickly and pulled back, a look of alarm rippling across her features.

“Are you ok? I’m so sorry,” she said, eyes wide, her hand rising to cover her mouth.

Jack lowered himself back to the ground, resting his head again on the soft makeshift pillow below him. His breathing was ragged as he stared at the ceiling, a hand resting on his chest.

“I’m…” He wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was amazing. He was perfect. But he was also confused. “I think I have a cracked rib?”

Jack’s heartbeat was returning to normal and he carefully pushed himself back up to a sitting position. Gillian quickly leaned over to help him, a hand on his back guiding him up then sliding away again when he was comfortably upright. She was still kneeling beside him on the stone floor, her cheeks pink and her eyes steadfastly refusing to meet his.

Taking the opportunity to glance around the room, Jack was even more bewildered. They were in what appeared to be an old crypt. Daylight streamed in through a few distant windows, but he and Gillian were in the shadows, surrounded by sarcophagi.

“Gill, uh,” he hesitated. He wanted to continue their kissing– knew they should probably talk about it first. But the more pressing matter was how he’d ended up in an old church, feeling like he’d fallen down eight flights of stairs. “Where are we?”

He looked back to her and saw Gillian’s head was still downcast. She peered at him through her dark lashes carefully as if he were a wild animal ready to bolt.

“What do you remember?” she asked slowly.

Jack frowned, his eyebrows drawn together as he concentrated. The last thing he remembered was their crazy plan to break into the Hungerford Castle. That thought triggered an onslaught of others and he remained silent as he pieced together the different images– their train ride to Bath, the walk to the castle, lifting Gillian through the chapel window, the way her— nevermind, now wasn’t the time for those thoughts.

His mind continued to reel. He remembered the old woman interrupting them and attacking Gillian.

Right. The old woman. Alice. His… grandmother? Even Jack’s memories didn’t want to admit that. Hadn’t she said she was a witch? And that Gillian was a—

He pushed that thought away as images swirled in his head. A strange man at the cottage, the broken door, the unnatural wind that pieced the wood back together as if by… magic.

Jack stole a glance at Gillian, nervous that she’d somehow sensed his thoughts. She was still looking at him with a guarded expression, jaw tensed and hands clenched in her lap.

He looked away again as he tried to make sense of his memories. The way Alice had given him the book, whispering that he had a destiny to fulfill. The way she’d been taken.

That strange man had taken her.

The man with the teeth. The man who looked oddly like Gillian. The man who Gillian knew.

A chill ran up Jack’s spine and it felt like his heart had stopped.

His eyes snapped back up to Gillian. This woman was… he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t think it.

He could see in her eyes the moment she realized he’d remembered everything. They widened a fraction, then shut back down– the light in her gaze dimmed and was replaced with something inhuman.

Jack froze, his breath caught in his throat. What was she?

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Jack,” she said quietly. “You know who I am.”

She gave him a sad smile and he wished it were true. Wished he still knew who she was. But there was no denying that something was going on, and she was involved.

“Who was that man? What happened to Alice?”

“Jack,” she said again softly. “I know you’ve had a shock. There are things in this world that you haven’t been privy to. Things humans can’t see, or don’t want to see.”

Jack stared at her. “Humans? And what does that make you?”

Gillian sighed.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Jack. You must know that. I’m still me.”

“I don’t actually know anything about you, Gillian.”

She winced and looked away, biting her lip.

“That’s not important,” she said, her eyes returning to Jack’s, an overly bright smile plastered on her face. “What is important is that you know the truth about yourself. You’re in danger. The world, actually. The world is in danger. And I hate to do this to you. I know you didn't ask for this. But we actually do need your help to stop it.”

“You want me to save the world? What is this? The Avengers?”

Gillian cocked her head, eyes narrowed.

“I’m not sure what that means,” she said slowly. “I know you hit your head. I’ve read that can make humans lose their minds…”

Jack laughed. It was a hollow, mirthless laugh.

“Losing my mind would make more sense than any of this,” he gestured helplessly toward her.

Rolling her eyes, Gillian continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Jack, I know this is a lot to take in, but you need to pay attention. You are the direct descendant of a powerful witch– that woman we met last night. She created the drawings that we’ve been studying.”

Jack’s eyes widened. She couldn't be serious.

“They’re actually magic runes. When imbued with magic and with the right words said over them by a powerful sorcerer, the runes will activate a spell.”

“A spell? Runes? Magic? Next, you’ll tell me I’m a witch.”

Gillian blinked at him.

“Well, it’s sexist, of course. But historically males are referred to as warlocks.”

Jack suddenly remembered Alice telling him that he was a warlock the night before. He’d thought she’d lost her marbles.

“I’m… not human?”

“Oh, you’re definitely human,” Gillian gave a little smile as if she’d just shared an inside joke.

When Jack continued to stare at her, she explained, “Witches and warlocks are human. They’re just humans who are capable of performing magic. The magic runs down the bloodline, but I guess you have to be taught before you can harness it.” She looked at him questioningly. “Unless…?”

“Unless what? You think I’ve been performing magic tricks on the side?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “If I knew how to do magic, I would just wingardium leviosa myself out of here, Gillian.”

Some emotion flashed across her face, but was gone before Jack could interpret it. Maybe he was being too harsh, but how was he supposed to react to the news that the entire world as he knew it didn’t really exist? He was a scientist. The fact that he was even sitting here having this conversation was insane.

Jack had had enough. He started to stand up but Gillian put a hand out and he froze, not sure what she was capable of.

“Please, Jack. I know this isn’t fair. But I really need you to listen to me. There is… a bad man out there.”

Jack sank back down and crossed his arms.

“Fine. I’ll listen, but I still don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“I’m getting there. Alice created the magic runes to stop the bad man. It worked, but he has been looking for the runes and for her ever since. The bad guys need the runes and a sorcerer to reverse the spell. Are you following?”

“Bad guys. Magic. Got it.”

“That man last night– he was one of them. Now that they have Alice, I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know what they’ll do to her to force her to reverse the spell. We need to stop them before that happens. And as her descendant… Well, I think you’re the only one who can do it.”

***

Against his better judgement, Jack stayed and listened to Gillian’s explanation, eventually agreeing to return to the Beanstalk Cafe with her. It was all so unbelievable but he couldn’t deny what he’d seen with his own eyes.

He needed answers and going back to Oxford alone, while very tempting, wasn’t going to get him what he wanted.

“You’re sure Philomena will know what to do? Is she a witch, too?”

They were on the 7:13 pm train back to London, Jack sitting across from Gillian to keep as much distance as he could. She still hadn’t admitted what she was, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about her anymore.

“Um, so, Phi is a gnome,” Gillian said, watching Jack carefully as if this was going to be the final straw that set him off.

He blinked at her.

“A gnome? Sure. Sure, sure, sure. Yeah, of course. A gnome. Makes sense. The Keebler elves own a bakery, too, you know.”

Gillian had the audacity to look affronted. “Gnomes are not elves. Phi would have your head for saying that.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair and let out a shaky laugh.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking. I feel like I’m being pranked.” He searched her eyes, hoping to see a glint of something that would assure him she was teasing. Instead, she simply stared at him without any trace of amusement.

“I’m not pranking you. I would think Alice taken by a vampire right in front of you would have proven that.”

There it was. The word his mind had been skirting around all day.

Vampire.

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Chapter 1

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Chapter 13

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Chapter 15