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The yellow spot started to move east, but nothing else appeared. It looked like a floating piece of sunny fabric. A glare? A solar spot? He’d finally lost his ever-loving mind?
He squinted, focusing on the object and blocking out all other distractions. The truth hit him like an arrow from an elf’s bow. The golden speck wasn’t clothing, it was a bill. Finally, a stroke of good luck.
Jax ducked down beneath the cloud cover. “You’ll never guess what is right outside.”
“Hungry zombies?”
“Very funny, Veronica.” He didn’t even try to stop his grin from spreading, almost nothing matching the zinging excitement of finding a prize on a treasure hunt. “It’s the goose that lays the golden eggs.”
“How do you know it’s the right one? I’m not walking into a situation half-cocked again.” Veronica glanced down at Antoine, who was right below her on the beanstalk. “Ideas?”
A cool breeze whipped Antoine’s white hair around his round head, revealing an angr
y red scar near his hairline. He flattened his lips and his blue eyes took on an arctic quality as he returned Veronica’s query with silence.
Jax’s muscles tensed and his senses went on full alert. The Celtic knot his mother had given him when he left for college warmed against his chest. A Zayl witch, his mother had used a spell Merlin himself had taught her to infuse it with the power to warn him of danger.
The last time the charm had reacted this way without provocation had been right as he was about to dive into a freshwater lagoon teaming with vampiric mermaids hidden just below the surface waiting for their next meal. He’d yanked back from the edge before gravity could draw him into the deep blue. His guide, Sharmel, hadn’t. The mermaids had sucked Sharmel dry before Jax could even pull his Bowie knife from the sheath.
There sure as hell weren’t any mermaids in cloud country, but that didn’t mean there weren’t dangers aplenty with zombies taking the number one, two and three top slots on the list of most likely to kill him.
Below Jax on the beanstalk, Antoine blinked. When he opened his eyes, a look of resignation replaced his icy glare. “I’d love to say I am one hundred percent certain, but as we all learned yesterday, an overabundance of caution is never a bad thing when one climbs a magic beanstalk.”
He could say that twice. Though Jax was packing enough metal to knock a troll on his fat ass, he couldn’t shake the idea he’d missed something important.
“I don’t know. Something’s off here.” He adjusted his grip on the vines. “How is the goose even still alive with all the brain-dead rotting corpses wandering around?”
“Excellent point,” Veronica said.
They both looked to Antoine.
“My understanding of giant history is, the goose was a much-revered animal. It never aged or had to be fed. It simply was. And from it came the golden eggs, which financed the hopes and dreams of an entire race of giants. My theory, given their historical admiration of the goose, and the fact it produces golden eggs–shiny objects, just the type of thing the zombies are drawn to–the zombified giants leave the goose alone and go after the eggs.”
The theory had a kind of twisted logic to it, but it started Jax onto a whole new path of inquiry. “If the zombies don’t eat the goose and there aren’t any people up here, what are the zombies noshing on?”
“That is a question I cannot answer.”
“Guys, this is a fascinating conversation,” Veronica interrupted, impatience as thick as Caro syrup in her voice. “But we have a goose to catch. Let’s focus on the job at hand and get the hell out of here.”
“Point taken, Veronica. Point taken.” Antoine nodded. “Lead the way, Jax. We have a goose to catch.”
Jax poked his head out the hole in the clouds and checked the scene for anything moving that didn’t have a heartbeat. Everything looked clear, so he pulled himself the rest of the way out then helped Veronica. The moment their fingers intertwined and he got a whiff of her vanilla perfume, his body went on a whole other kind of alert. His position standing above her gave him the perfect view of her delectable breasts, framed by her leather jumpsuit’s lowered zipper. At that point, whatever blood was left in his brain took the bullet train south.
Once she stood next to him, he knew it was time to let go of her hand, but damn if his fingers didn’t have other plans, the kind that involved dragging that zipper as far down as it would go.
“Don’t drool on my boobs. It’s not polite.” By the soft velvet caress of her voice and the frantic rise and fall of her chest, despite her words, she wasn’t unaffected by him either.
Antoine tumbled forward from the beanstalk, landing in a heap at their feet. “Don’t worry, even though I’m an old man, I’m sure I can manage.”
The moment’s allure broken, Jax and Veronica unwound their fingers and stepped apart. His fingers still tingling, Jax held out a hand to Antoine and helped him up.
“Thanks, my boy. Now where is our fat little waddling friend?”
The cotton-candy scented trees stood about sky high with trunks so big around it would take at least three men holding hands to encircle one. The bark looked just like it did in his native North Carolina, that is if someone had taken the time to whitewash it. He stroked down the length with a finger, expecting the cloud to fly away under his fingertip. Instead, it remained as hard and unyielding as the Carolina red maple shading his mama’s back porch.
How in the world–
The hairs on the back of his neck spiked. He yanked his Bowie knife out and spun around in a smooth, fluid motion ready to attack but all he saw was blue skies and cloud trees.
