Free In a Glass Grimmly by Adam Gidwitz Page B

challenge you all to show me the food in your bellies!” Jill bellowed.
    Aitheantas rose to his feet. A cunning smile played across his lips. “If you, my little pygmy, can show us the food in your belly, we can show you the food in ours.”
    Jill turned to Meas. Very slowly, very clearly, she said, “Bring us knives.”
    ----
    I don’t believe anyone is reading right now. I assume everyone has just skipped to the next chapter. I hope so.
    If any of you are indeed still reading this . . . well . . . good luck to you.
    ----
    Meas disappeared and returned in a moment, carrying enough long, sharp knives for every giant in the hall, and one for Jill. Jill grasped hers in her hand. “Show me your food!” she cried.
    “Jill!” Jack cried. “Stop!” The frog peered out of his pocket.
    Jill raised the knife above her head. Then she brought the knife down and buried it in her stomach. It entered her body just above the belt; from there she drew it up the length of her enormous belly.
    The frog fainted again.
    Porridge poured out all over the floor. Inside Jill’s shirt was a mess of brown tatters, fleshy porridge, and bird bones. Jack stared. Between the ratty brown of the blanket and the disgusting mess of meat and bone and porridge, it looked a whole lot like human entrails.
    The giants all squinted their tiny eyes at Jill and her dissected shirt.
    “I can do that!” Bucky cried. And he plunged his knife into his stomach and drew it from his belt to his throat. Blood and porridge poured out onto the floor, and then Bucky fell down. Dead. His eyes were wide, and his corpse lay half submerged in vomit.
    “So can I!” cried Leithleach. And he, too, gutted himself, spilling his blood and viscera and porridge, and then collapsing on top of them.
    “Me too!”
    “So can I!”
    “That’s easy!”
    And one by one, each giant-hero cut himself from gullet to gizzard, and an explosion of blood and guts and partially digested meat and porridge poured all over the floor of the hall. One by one, each giant collapsed into the blood and vomit. The floor was six, now eight, now ten inches deep with blood and guts and food. Each time a giant fell, the steaming, putrid pool rippled.
    Aitheantas was the last. “I’m not sure I can,” he said, looking uncertainly around at the carnage.
    “You have to, King,” Meas said. “You accepted the challenge.”
    “There’s no way out of it?” Aitheantas asked forlornly.
    Meas shook his hoary beard. “None,” he said.
    Aitheantas looked balefully at Jill. Then he took a deep breath, clutched his knife tightly in his hand, and cut a long gash from below his belly button to the top of his neck. Porridge and guts and blood poured out of his enormous body, and then he tumbled like a felled tree to the floor. The pool of pink and brown muck around him rippled, and then grew still.
    Jill pulled off the long, stretched, tattered, and filthy blanket to reveal her equally filthy shirt.
    “Well,” said Meas impassively, “that was a neat trick.”
    “Thanks,” Jill replied.
    Jack stared at the carnage around him, trying to figure out what had just happened.
    “Are you going to let us go?” Jill asked the gaunt old guard.
    “Certainly,” he replied. He stuck out his giant, bony, sallow-skinned hand to Jill. She shook it. “I hated those brutes,” he said. “They got exactly what they deserved.” Then Meas shook Jack’s hand, patted the frog on his little head and, wading through great lake of giant blood and vomit, showed them to the narrow staircase out of the cave.
    “Wait,” said Jill. “Do you have the Seeing Glass?”
    Meas’s dim eyes seemed to glow brighter for a moment. “Ah,” he said. “Is that why you came here?”
    “It was,” said Jill. “Until Jack forgot.”
    “I didn’t forget,” Jack mumbled, turning red.
    “It isn’t here.” Meas’s voice replied. “But it is indeed a treasure worth seeking. The greatest power, it is said, resides in that