“Prince Denholm of Gornish,” said Anya helpfully, stepping around a lie. “Right behind me. What’s your name, then?”
“WHAT? I’M BEWARE THE GIANT,” roared the giant. He wiped his eyes and looked around suspiciously, his bent nose snuffling wildly. He didn’t pay any attention to Shrub edging past the outside of one deeply planted boot, or Smoothie sliding along on her belly between his legs. “I CAN’T SEE HIM AND I CAN’T SMELL HIM! BUT YOU SPEAK TRUTH.”
“I suppose he could have one of those invisibility cloaks or maybe he’s disguised,” said Anya, which was basically the truth. She made another small shooing gesture at Ardent, who had stayed by her side.
The dog didn’t move.
The giant sniffed the air again.
“I CAN SMELL PRINCESS, RIGHT ENOUGH. THAT’D BE YOU. AND DOG. THAT’S YOU. BUT THERE’S SOMETHING ELSE … SOMETHING GREEN … ”
He bent down again, red-rimmed eyes narrowing, and sniffed very deeply.
“A FROG! YOUR PRINCE IS TRANSFORMED. HE’S NOTHING BUT A FROGGY!”
Anya gulped and thought harder still, her mind working so fast that it was surprising the raindrops weren’t turning into steam as they hit her head.
“You’re very smart. I suppose you must be a ‘Trifle Terrifying’ or … or even a ‘Moderately Terrifying’ giant?”
“WHAT?!” shouted the giant.
He stood up straight as a pine, put his head back, and roared, smashing the handle of his cleaver and the fist that held the bag against his chest. “I’M THE TRULY TERRIFYING GIANT BEWARE!”
“You can’t be,” said Anya. It took a lot of effort to stop her teeth chattering as she got this out. “You’re not tall enough.”
“I STAND TWELVE CUBITS TALL IN MY SOCKS!” roared Beware. He smacked his chest a few more times.
“Nah,” said Anya. “You can’t be more than eleven cubits, if that. Those boots have got very high heels on them.”
“THEY HAVE NOT!” protested the giant. “I’LL SHOW YOU!”
He sat down on the road, sending a great wave of mud and water cascading over and around Anya. If it hadn’t been for Ardent bracing behind her legs she would have gone over. The dog was momentarily submerged, but when the wave subsided he shook himself vigorously and looked up at the princess in admiration.
“Well done,” whispered Ardent. “Do I go for his throat while he’s distracted?”
Anya looked at the giant’s throat. The skin there was folded and convoluted like elephant hide. It would take a two-handed axe and the muscles of a mighty forester to make even a dent in that.
“No, of course not,” she whispered. “We wait until—”
“WHAT’S THAT?” roared the giant. He swung his cleaver down, the blade burying itself in the mud only a few feet away from Anya.
“I’ll need something to measure you with!” Anya shouted back. “How about the drawstring from your bag? And you’ll have to lie down.”
“LIE DOWN IN THIS MUD?”
“You’re too tall for me to measure any other way,” Anya explained. “Maybe you are eleven cubits tall after all.”
“I’M TWELVE CUBITS TALL! TWELVE!” roared the giant angrily. He had one boot off already, which he threw over Anya’s head. It was like a near miss from a catapulted boulder, the passage of the huge, heavy object ruffling her hair and scaring her even more, if that was possible.
“As … as you say, Sir Beware!” answered Anya. She didn’t have to fake the trembling in her voice. Keeping it from getting out of control was the hard part. “Maybe you’re even closer to thirteen cubits. We’ll soon see, when I get measuring.”
“I COULD BE!” shouted the giant. “HURRY UP!”
He pulled the drawstring out of his bag and threw it towards Anya, who jumped to one side. The drawstring was essentially a twelve-foot length of heavy-duty rope and would have badly injured her if she hadn’t dodged. She picked up one end and swiftly tied a loop in it, with a slipknot.
“COME ON, THEN!” roared the giant as he settled back along the road, putting his hands behind his head. His socks were ragged and many-times patched, and his big toes stuck out. A horrible reek reminiscent of cheese left in the sun for a week or two and then mixed with sewage rolled off his feet, too strong for even the pounding rain to wash away.
“I HAVEN’T GOT ALL DAY TO GET MEASURED. I HAVE TO GET YOU BACK HOME AND COOKED UP. PRINCESS SURPRISE—MY FAVORITE MEAL!”
“Why do you call it ‘Princess Surprise’?” asked Anya. She tied a loop in the other end, also with a slipknot.
“BECAUSE THEY LOOK SO SURPRISED TO BE EATEN UP!” guffawed the giant. “PRINCESSES ALWAYS EXPECTS TO GET RESCUED.”
“Do they?” asked Anya mildly. “Better they should rescue themselves!”
She threw one loop over the giant’s left toe and the other over his right toe, pulled both loops tight, and ran away with Ardent close at her heels.
The giant roared behind her, a great shout that she felt as much as heard. She heard him sit up, and risked a glance over her shoulder as she ran by the side of the road, far faster than she had gone any time before.
He wasn’t trying to get up. He simply leaned forward from his sitting position, grabbed his cleaver—and threw it.
Anya dived for the mud, dragging Ardent with her. A huge mass of steel shot over her head, missing her by six inches at most.
Under the muddy water, Anya heard the giant roar again. She pushed herself up and launched herself away, wiping the mud from her eyes. Ardent briefly barked something but she didn’t hear what he said; there was so much mud in her ears.
Behind her, Beware the Giant struggled to his feet, took one step forward, looked down in surprise, tried to take another step, turned sideways, and fell over. His huge arms cartwheeled as he fell … and there was a horrific snap, crackle, and pop as something very bad happened to his hip.
Anya risked another glance. The giant was howling with pain now, clutching his left hip. She turned around and started to circle back, to get safely past the immobilized giant and join the others on his far side.
It was only at this moment that she realized she didn’t have her staff, her bundle, or Denholm in his little wicker cage.