Little Red Cinderella and the Three Beanstalks

Previously...

"Give me girl! She taste good baked into bread!" Urgle shouted, chuckling. He sat down on his haunches, making the ground shake and leaves fall from the trees. He reached out for me, But Ezu whirled me out of the way, just out of reach of the grasping hands.

"Shit... Run!" he shouted, giving me a push in the small of my back. I stumbled forward, but didn't follow his probably extremely prudent advice..

'Wait, Ezu, what about you?" I said frantically. Sure I didn't know the guy that well, but I certainly didn't want him to get baked into bread.

"I'll be fine! Take Jinx with you, he knows the way!" Ezu shouted, leaping out of the way of Urgle's huge fist as it came crashing down. "Now GO!" He screamed at me. I hesitated for a moment as Jinx zoomed around my head, making urgent little hissing noises.

I bit my lip, watching the deadly dance before me; Ezu jumping and rolling, Urgle trying to grab him and crush him. Then I turned, and followed Jinx into the dark forest, guilt weighing heavily on my conscious.
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I ran as fast as I could, desperately trying to keep up with the little bouncing ball of metal that flitted ahead of my, darting this way and that, faster than I could follow.

"Hey! Jinx, slow down! I can't keep up!" I called, trying to keep the little bugger in my line of vision, my backpack bouncing painfully as I sprinted.

The night was dark and the path treacherous, but I was dodging dangers--like low hanging branches and thorny bushes--like a pro, and probably would have made it through the dark forest in the end just fine, if it hadn’t been for Murphy’s Law.

That stupid root was a good 5 inches off the ground, and in the shadows of the trees combined with the darkness of the night, I never had a chance.

My foot caught suddenly and I went down like a sack of bricks, my momentum twisting me in mid air, so I landed with a painful thud on my ass. I let myself fall backwards dejectedly, my head smacking into the soft dirt, breathing hard. I didn't bother getting up to find Jinx, I knew he was long gone by now.

I groaned and covered my face with my hands.

Jinx was gone, I was lost in the woods with who-knows-how-many wolves and witches waiting for me, and Ezu was being mauled by Giants.

Great.

"What am I going to do now?" I moaned aloud. And, to my utmost surprise, I received and answer.

"You could always ask for help, you know," said a harsh, high pitched voice. I jumped to my feet, alarmed, and more than a little afraid, wishing I had more to defend myself with than my searing wit and a black belt in sarcasm.

"Who's there?" I demanded, sounding a lot braver than I really felt. I peered through the darkness, straining to see the person that belonged to the voice. I was about to ask again, but just then the culprit stepped into my line of vision.

The first thing I noticed about him was that he was very, very short. The top of his grey-haired head only reached my hip, although he walked towards me with an air of great authority. He was rather stooped, and “old” didn’t seem quite as appropriate as “far past his expiration date”; but he moved lithely and quickly nonetheless. Especially his eyes; they darted from my face to the surrounding trees with such a vigor and youthful intensity, they seemed misplaced on the old man's body.

I was too stunned to move, so he took the initiative and hobbled up to me, using a gnarled old walking stick for support, and stopped about a foot away. He gave me a stern look.

"Stupid girl doesn't know when to ask for help." He muttered, and he gave a sharp rap in my knee with his cane.

"Ouch!" I shrieked, taking a hasty step back, in case he decided to use his cane some more.

"In these parts," He growled, waving his hand at the trees, "There is always someone around to... help maidens in distress." He said, a grin I did not like the looks of spreading across his wizened old face. I groaned again. Great, what was he going to do to me? Eat my flesh? Kidnap me and use me as a slave for the next 100 years? Make me sell my eternal soul to him?

"What do you want in return?" I asked dejectedly, knowing help always came at a price in these stories. The old gnomes grin widened.

"Me? Want something in return? No, just the satisfaction of knowing I helped such a lovely lady is enough for me. But-" he added quickly, when I opened my mouth to say that sounded fine by me, "If you insist... We'll make a deal. A contest, actually. If you win, I'll help you with whatever it is you want. If I win, I get your first born child." He grinned even wider, if that were possible.

The first thing I felt rush through my body was fear. I sucked at contests of any sorts, and the stakes were high...

But then relief flooded through me. I almost laughed aloud, but managed to hold it in.

"Hm, well, I don't know..." I said with a straight face, tapping my chin. "It seems like a tough bargain." The old man shrugged.

"Fine then. I'll be on my way." He said, and he spun around, hobbling a few feet away.

"Wait!" I called, like he knew I would. He turned again to face me, his grin back in place. "I'll do it. What's the game?" I asked. Although I was sure I already knew.

"The game is simple," He began, "All you have to do is guess my name," he finished with a little bow. "Not too hard, is it?" He asked, peering up at me. I grinned as widely as he, in turn stretching his own, because he seemed to take my smile as a sign of over confidence. He was sure I wouldn't get it.

"Of course not." I replied.

"Good. Now, for the rules. You only have three guesses, no more. If you don't get it by the third guess, I get your first born. I will find you, believe me, so there is no point in hiding."

"Believe me, I know." I muttered under my breath. "So your name, huh?" I said louder, so he could hear. "Let me see... is it Conrad?" I said, trying to look pensive. He shook his head.

"No. Not Conrad."

"Hmm... might it be... Harry?" I asked. The little man grinned so wide I though his head would split in two.

"No..." He said, no eagerly jumping from foot to foot. He was sure I wouldn't get it. I sighed hugely.

"Well then, I guess this is my last guess. I have to make it worthwhile." I said sadly. I feared I was overdoing it, but the little manikin didn't seem to notice through his own glee. "Now what could it be? Perhaps... Perhaps your name is, Rumpelstiltskin?" I asked, wide eyes and innocent looking. The little man froze in place, his grin suddenly wiped from his face.

"The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that!" He shrieked, turning purple in the face. In his anger, he stomped his feet, like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum.

Only when he stomped his right foot, his leg plunged right through the ground with the force of it, so deep into the earth that his whole leg went in. And then, his fury apparently overcoming him, he grabbed his leg with both hands, intending to pull it out, but instead he pulled at his leg so hard with both hands that he tore himself in half, blood flying through the air, splattering my face and clothes.

I stood there for maybe a minute, eyes closed, feeling the warm, sticky blood slide down my face. I concentrated on breathing deeply through my nose, trying not to hyperventilate. I didn't dare open my eyes, I didn't want to see the body, the two halves laying open like a split melon, with all its insides strewn across the forest floor, the pine needles underfoot soaking up the crimson blood. One thought was running through my mind, over and over again, like a recording on repeat.

You killed him, Rikki, you killed Rumpelstiltskin.

Oh crap.

The beloved children's character was laying in pieces at my feet, and it was all my fault. I felt an odd mixture of panic and sorrow and rage well up in my throat, hot and painful like bile. I spun on my heel and carefully shuffled away from the mess, my eyes barely squinting open to see where I was going. I made my way to a tree stump and sat down slowly, not trusting myself to make any sudden movements without throwing up. I looked at the night sky, dotted with stars, and felt the cool wind caress my face, as if trying blow my anxiety away.

It failed.

Automatically, I slipped my backpack off and opened it, pulling out the Book without really knowing why, and rested it on my lap. I fiddled with it, just staring at it, not thinking. I traced a finger over the slightly raised patterns that wound their way around the edges of the cover.

Intricate roses on a vine, twining around themselves, twisting and turning, creating a beautiful border on the dark brown leather cover. The Book was thick, but not as heavy as it looked. Inside, inscribed on the crisp, slightly yellowed pages in fancy, elegant writing were a collection of about 200 different fairy tales, each illustrated beautifully.

My fingers found the table of contents, and I scanned the page. When I had found what I was searching for, I flipped open to page 124, and stared at the paper.



I bit my lip, then let my eyes drift to the bottom of the page, the ending.

I hesitated, worried.

I just killed Rumpelstiltskin. What if he hadn't met the miller's daughter yet? What would happen to her? I felt my stomach clench, and I struggled to keep my insides where they were. I knew exactly what would happen to her. She wouldn't be able to spin the straw into gold, and she would be executed, just like the king said.

Tears started streaming down my face, unbidden. Was I going to be the cause of two deaths? I hadn't even been here for 48 hours yet! Panic rose in me, what else would I ruin before I managed to get back home? But I squeezed my eyes shut, and pushed the fear welling up inside me back down.

Get a hold of yourself, Rikki. Panicking will do you no good. You don't even remember how the real story ends. Read it, maybe everything will end up okay, I told myself fiercely. I took a deep breath and scanned the page, letting my gaze rest on the last paragraph. I gave myself one more mental nudge, and began to read.

You may imagine how glad the queen was when she heard the
name. And when soon afterwards the little man came in, and
asked, "Now, mistress queen, what is my name?" At first she
said, "Is your name Conrad?"
"No."
"Is your name Harry?"
"No."
"Perhaps your name is Rumpelstiltskin?"

"The devil has told you that! The devil has told you that," cried
the little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so
deep into the earth that his whole leg went in, and then in
rage he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands that
he tore himself in two.

Oh shit.