Free My Epic Fairy Tale Fail by Anna Staniszewski Page A

it wasn’t Sir Knight, since we would have heard his soundtrack echoing through the woods.
    â€œJenny,” Trish said after we’d been walking for a while. “Is there any way we could stop and get something to eat? I’m starving.”
    â€œThere aren’t really any restaurants around here,” I told her.
    â€œWell, isn’t there a peasant who could take us in and feed us? You know, like in real fairy tales?” Trish’s face looked dreamy, as if she were imagining a kind old woman bent over a big pot of bubbling stew.
    â€œSorry,” I said. “Even if we found someone, I don’t think they’d want to help us, not after the welcome we got at the palace.” I rifled around in my bag and took out one of the granola bars I always kept for emergencies. “Will this work? It’s a little smushed, but it’s edible.” I didn’t mention that Leonard had started to nibble through the wrapper.
    Trish didn’t look thrilled, but she unwrapped the granola bar and bit off a hunk without comment.
    We’d taken a few more steps before Melissa stopped. “Jenny, there isn’t a bathroom anywhere, is there?”
    Didn’t she know heroes didn’t have time to go to the bathroom? I pointed to a nearby shrub. “Can you make do with that?”
    Melissa sighed and went toward the bushes with a resigned look on her face. I wondered if this part of the adventure would find its way into Trish’s English paper. I wasn’t sure Mrs. Brown would appreciate an essay on the bathroom habits of magical creatures.
    Finally, we set off again in the direction of the second challenge. All I knew was that Ilda had mentioned a lake. I wished I’d thought to pack a bathing suit. Diving for magical objects in jeans and a T-shirt didn’t sound all that comfortable.
    Soon we passed by a farm where a few boys were running around in a circle and squealing like pigs.
    â€œWhat are they doing?” said Melissa, just as the boys noticed us and started to come toward the rotting wooden fence. They were all stick-thin, like they hadn’t had a good meal in months.
    The smallest boy in the group was clearly the bravest since he marched right over to us while the others hung back.
    â€œYou’re the adventurer,” he said, looking me up and down.
    I nodded. “That’s me. What are you guys doing?”
    â€œMy brothers and I are practicing for the pig race,” he said. “I came in third out of all the boys at the festival last year. This year, I’m going to win, and Ilda will stock our barn with grain.” The boy was far too young to be worrying about feeding his family, but he was clearly taking the whole thing very seriously.
    â€œLet me guess. Ilda turns you into pigs before you race?” I said.
    The boy nodded. “It tickles a little, but it’s worth it. Even if I do snort-laugh for days after.”
    I couldn’t believe the way the boy was talking, like he didn’t see anything wrong with what Ilda was doing. How could people live like this? It was the furthest thing from a fairy tale I could imagine. There was no way I’d let Ilda get away with it anymore. When I glanced at Melissa and Trish, they were obviously thinking the same thing.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” I asked.
    â€œJack Beanstalk,” the boy said, flashing a crooked grin.
    â€œYour last name is Beanstalk?” I said.
    The boy shrugged. “Not really, but that’s what they call me. Ever since I threw those beans out the window.”
    â€œWait!” said Melissa. “You’re that Jack?”
    â€œWhere’s your beanstalk?” said Trish, scanning the area. She was practically bouncing with excitement.
    The boy’s eyes widened. “You’ve heard of it? It’s not much to look at now that the magic is almost gone, but it used to be amazing. It grew overnight, almost all the way up to