face, but the Wolf just chuckled. Desperately, the young man jumped up, grabbed a tree branch, and used it to catapult himself at the Wolf. The force sent them both tumbling over each other, leaving Jack on top.
"When I kill you, this town is going to erect a statue in my honor," Jack boasted. "How does it feel to know that your own kind wish you dead?"
"Not nearly as bad as it must feel to know they don't care if you are alive," the Wolf snarled as it rolled over on top of Jack. "Maybe they'll notice when I leave your rotting corpse hanging in the town square. That is, after I've eaten all the juicy parts."
Jack thrust his knee into the Wolf's belly, knocking the wind out of it, and giving the young man the chance to throw the beast off. He crawled to his feet and picked up Excalibur.
"Even the tiniest scratch will send you on your way, mongrel," Jack warned. He rushed forward, pushed the beast against a tree, and held the lethal blade to its neck. "Perhaps they will now call me Jack the Legend Killer, as well."
Sabrina looked to her grandmother and saw the worry in her face. She knew Jack was going to win, and then he would turn on them. How would the three of them fight him off? But suddenly, above the snarling and fighting, she heard an odd sound, as if someone had just played some notes on a flute. At first, Sabrina thought she might have imagined it, but then a swarm of pixies darted out of the woods and surrounded Jack. He cried in pain with every little sting and soon blood began to leak from all over his body.
"No one likes a bragger," Puck said as he floated down from the trees and rested on a branch above the fighting.
"Puck!" Daphne cried. "You really are a hero!"
"Hush, you'll ruin my reputation," Puck replied.
In vain, Jack tried to brush the pixies off, swatting at them wildly with little result and dropping the sword in his struggle.
"Old lady, are you well?" Puck asked as he floated to the ground. "I tried to tell Sabrina that Jack couldn't be trusted but she wouldn't listen. She's very stubborn and stupid."
"I'm sure Sabrina had her reasons, Puck," Granny replied as she winked at her granddaughter. "But before we can celebrate, Jack has a jar in his coat we need."
Puck smiled, took out his flute, and played a quick, sharp note. One lone pixie left the others and buzzed around the boy's head.
"We need to get that jar away from him," Puck said. The little light blinked as if to say yes, and zipped into the storm of pixies tormenting Jack. Suddenly, a small group of them flew into his jacket and collectively carried the jar of magic beans away.
"No!" Jack cried in panic, swatting and swinging wildly at the pixies. Seeing his prize carried off, he desperately grasped for the jar, only managing to knock it to the ground, sending shards of glass and beans in all directions.
"Oh, dear," Granny gasped.
The Wolf fell over as if it was having a fight with itself.
"I'm not going back inside, old man!" the beast bellowed. It groaned and complained as it transformed back into Mr. Canis. The old man was exhausted and broken. He had a worried look on his face.
"We have to get the children out of here," Mr. Canis gasped.
Suddenly, the Action Four News van came careening through the woods and stopped. The doors slid open and Wilma Faye got out, followed by her cameraman. The reporter fixed her business suit, checked her hair in a small compact mirror, and then turned to face the girls.
"Girls, I'm Wilma Faye from Action Four News. We heard there was a story out here tonight," the woman said, but her words were drowned out by a horrible rumbling. The little white beans were taking root. They dug deep into the forest's soil and instantly a hundred little green sprouts popped out of the ground. The sprouts grew at an alarming rate, becoming vines and then stalks that jockeyed among one other for space. They soared higher and higher into the air until it seemed they would touch the moon itself.
The cameraman tapped Wilma Faye on the shoulder and the reporter turned around.
"What is it?" she said impatiently.
The cameraman pointed up and Wilma's eyes followed. Above her were dozens of angry giants quickly climbing down the beanstalks. The cameraman pointed his camera into the air, flipped a switch, and a bright light mounted on the camera lit up their faces.
"Are you getting this?" Wilma asked, panicking.
"I'm getting it!" the cameraman shouted.
"What have you done?" Jack bellowed.
"You wanted giants, Jack. You're going to get your wish," Granny Relda said, as the first giant planted a foot on the forest floor. Dozens and dozens of them followed, all in all nearly a hundred, knocking over trees that had been growing for centuries. Each one of the giants was uglier than the last and all of them had murder in their eyes.