Free Jack by Liesl Shurtliff Page B

helpers—all except you and Tim—but all elves are given by His Majesty’s command.”
    Ding! A bell rang.
    “Oh my! And now the king demands his breakfast!” Martha sprinkled the king’s breakfast with one more spoonful of gold before it was whisked away.
    Could King Barf have Papa? Either way, Martha said he was the one in charge of where they all went. That meant he had to have seen Papa at some time and sent him somewhere. It clearly wasn’t the kitchen.
    “Heads up!” said Tom. He squirted some milk right in my eye. “Bull’s-eye!”
    Milk was dripping down my face, but I went right back to work, pretending I didn’t care. Then, when he wasn’t expecting it, I squirted Tom in the ear, and suddenly we were in a milking duel and not so much milk got into the buckets.
    Abandoning his cow altogether, Tom picked up a giant fork. “Let’s joust like knights!” he said, raising the fork like a lance.
    I scoured the barn until I found a fork leaning against a bale of hay. I struggled to lift it. It was heavy !
    “Charge!” Tom cried, and raced toward me.
    “I will vanquish thee, villain!” I lumbered forward in an awkward trot. Our forks clanged together as we passed. Tom knocked me over and nearly stabbed me in the gut. I tumbled to the ground.
    “Are you okay?” asked Tom.
    I grinned. “Let’s do it again!”
    We clashed the forks again and again, until my mind wandered to the times when Papa and I used to play swords. He’d play the villain or the giant, and I’d be the hero. We had these amazing death scenes where I’d stab him and he’d grunt and choke and fall down on the ground and twitch and lie still. I’d wait for a few moments, and then I’d creep up on him and whisper, “Papa?” but he’d stay silent, and then I’d poke him a little. He wouldn’t move. Finally I would bend down and check for his breathing or a heartbeat, and that was when he’d growl and grab me and throw me up in the air.Then he’d tickle me until I laughed so hard, my stomach hurt. Thinking of this made my chest hurt.
    I put down my fork-lance. The sunlight had moved above the windows now, which meant it was probably close to midday. I looked around at the lunch preparations. A giant maid was shaking salt and pepper into a pot of bubbling soup. Another was placing bread and cheese on a tray, and Martha had just taken a pudding out of the oven and set it on the table to cool.
    I needed to find Papa, and finding the king was my best chance. I’d meet him face-to-face—or face-to-foot. I’d demand he give me Papa. Or else!
    “Tom, is there a way to get to the other table? The one where Martha is?”
    “Sure, we just need a spoon.”
    “A spoon?”
    “You’d be surprised how much you can do with a giant spoon.” Tom disappeared and then came back a minute later, dragging a soup spoon. He set it down and rubbed his hands together. “Stand on the end there.”
    “How is a spoon supposed to get me across the table? Does it fly?”
    Tom smiled. “Something like that. Get on!”
    I tentatively stepped onto the end of the spoon’s handle, not sure what to expect.
    “Terrific. Now wait a minute.” Tom climbed up some bales of hay and onto the roof of the barn. He shouted down at me. “Bend your knees! One! Two—”
    I suddenly realized what he was doing. “Tom, I don’t—” But it was too late.
    “Three!” Tom jumped off the barn and landed on the other end of the spoon. I catapulted into the air.
    “Snakes and toooooooads!” I soared over the table, arms and legs flailing, and landed on top of a mountain of potatoes. I tumbled down in a potato avalanche.
    Tom swung across the kitchen to join me on a rope tied to one of the chandeliers. “That was amazing! You should have seen how high you flew.”
    “Why didn’t you just tell me about the rope?” I grumbled.
    “Where’s the fun in that?” Tom seemed perplexed. “No elf has ever traveled by catapult before! You should feel honored.”
    I