Free Jaq’s Harp by Ella Drake

get to the ground.
    He glanced down. Jaq’s agile body was gliding down at a breakneck pace. His vision spotted, and he jerked his chin up. No more looking down.
    One rung at a time, he descended the beanstalk. Bovine’s creation was a marvel. The vines were thick, as large around as three of him put together. Maybe four. The limbs interweaved like thatch work. Large leaves the size of his head swished into him, blocking his sight, sliding against his mouth to leave behind a verdant flavor. It was as if the vine cushioned and directed him, hugging against him all the way.
    He couldn’t see Jaq but he heard her humming, as if she were enjoying this craziness.
    The vine shuddered. Tearing leaves rent the sky above him. They were following, but he couldn’t see through the leaves.
    Jaq stopped humming.
    He picked up the pace. The mindless down, down, down created unbearable tension in his shoulders and left his bruised ribs protesting.
    Down, down, down.
    His arms ached. The top of his head heated, exposed to the threat above.
    At least he was between Jaq and Ochre’s guards. They’d have to go through him first.
    “I’m on the ground,” Jaq shouted.
    The tension in his shoulders fell away. His feet touched the earth and he moved toward Jaq who stared above, frowning, eyes squinting, as she peered up into the vine. An expression of horror covered her beautiful face as she reached for him and screamed, “Watch out.”
    A heavy mass fell on him, banging his head into the ground and wrenching his arm back. He surged up, throwing off the man, and rounded on him, only to draw up short with the barrel of a gun in his face.
    He froze.

Chapter Six
    Jaq dove to the side, putting the overturned courtyard bench between her and the two guards, who glared at Harp as Ochre made his way down the vine. He was still a ways up, taking his time.
    She had to move now, while it was two instead of three. Vera Ochre wouldn’t be following them down. Ochre had turned his company into a shell of itself, a corrupt and inhumane entity, all so his wife wouldn’t ever have to touch the ground. No, Vera Ochre was high above.
    She and Harp had to take out three men. Because Bovine and the other agents weren’t here yet. If Ochre overpowered them, nobody would be around to tell the world what Ochre had planned, and a vaccine would hit the streets in a few weeks that would wipe out half the population of landers. They had to get the evidence to Mother.
    The gun in Harp’s face didn’t waver. She wanted to call out, but terror for him tightened her throat, and she didn’t want the guards to remember she was here.
    This was where it’d all end, and she was determined that it would end with Harp and Merry whole and safe, even if she had to sacrifice herself to make it so.
    She took it all in. This was the courtyard to her building, but she’d never thought to stash weapons here. Breathing in and out, she shrugged her shoulders and let her emotions fall to the ground.
    In a smooth motion, she grabbed one of the downed bamboo plant canes, stood and slashed it through the air.
    Swish.
    The hard yet flexible pole came down, fast, onto the hand holding the gun. The guard’s arm yanked down, discharging the gun into the ground. Always fast, Harp attacked the man, twisting his arm and pointing the firearm away.
    She didn’t wait to see if Harp could take out the guard. She dove at the other one, stunned and standing with his mouth agape. Her momentum plowed into him. As he stumbled, bowed over, she righted herself, gripped him by the shoulders, and brought her knee up into his nose.
    Crunch.
    He howled and fell to the ground, clutching his face. In seconds, she yanked her courier bag over her head, removed the strap, and had the guard’s hands tied and secured to the bench while he was still bent over, moaning over his broken nose.
    Harp and the man he fought cursed and grunted, but she couldn’t step in, not without distracting Harp. For