CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CRY WOLF

“HUNTERS! THEY’RE HERE!” Rolf yells, before turning into the Big Bad Wolf that he is. The rest of the pack transforms as well, snarling and leaping into the fray.

All at once, battle breaks out around them. They’re surrounded by ogres on every side. The wolves howl and attack, throwing themselves against their sworn enemies, while Jack’s sword clashes against ogre hammer.

Filomena kicks and stabs her way past a group of ogres swinging their mallets. Gretel screams as she wields her sword, making sure that blood doesn’t get on her new dress.

But there are too many of them.

One of the ogres swings a massive arm at Jack, knocking him down.

“Jack!” Alistair yells, rushing to help his friend. He takes two steps before another ogre stomps over, blocking his path to Jack.

The ogre lets out a grunt as he swats Alistair away, sending him flying in the air until he hits the cavern wall with a thud.

Filomena turns at the sound of Alistair’s groan. She wants to help him, but she’s too far. The wolves and ogres are locked in fierce battle. There are three ogres to one wolf, and as much as the wolves bite and tear, the ogres are huge and many.

“Get away from him, you monster!” Gretel screams at the ogre who has overpowered Rolf. She sinks her blade into his back, and the ogre slumps.

But the rest of the pack isn’t faring as well.

They’ve got to get out of here.

Filomena tries to make her way to her fallen friends. But Alistair, lying on the ground, is desperately pointing to something.

What does he want?

What is he pointing at?

Then she understands.

Before Alistair was attacked, he had chanced on something. He was looking for something in the dark. No, he had found something.

The lamp!

She has to get to it before any of the ogres do.

She ducks down and begins to crawl while the battle rages around her. Maybe they won’t notice. Maybe she’ll be okay. She’ll get the lamp and somehow make all this right.

She inches forward, then freezes. She turns around and sees that Alistair has been captured. He’s in the clutches of a very large and very angry ogre who is screaming, spitting in his face. “ALI BABA, WHERE IS THE LAMP?”

“I don’t know!” squeaks Alistair. “It’s not here!”

“Tell us or die lying!” the ogre warns.

Alistair closes his eyes and waits for the worst.

With the ogres focused on Alistair, they don’t notice Filomena. She’s just a few feet away. She’s almost there when Jack calls out, begging the ogres to leave Alistair alone.

“He doesn’t have it! Let him go!” Jack yells.

“Is that you again, Stalker?” the ogre asks. “Killed a giant but couldn’t save your own family!”

The other ogres join in to taunt and jeer at Jack.

“And you certainly won’t be able to save your friend,” the ogre says with a laugh, then turns to his companions. “We don’t need him alive, you lazy fools.”

“My pleasure,” another ogre responds with a cruel smile, moving to catch Jack.

But Jack is too quick.

Too nimble.

He jumps out of the way.

Filomena reaches the spot where Alistair was pointing. She looks around. Where is it? Where is the lamp?

She tries to tune out the screaming, tune out the wolves’ roaring, tune out her fear for her friends. She just has to find it.

“C’mon,” Filomena mutters in frustration, frantically searching the dusty floor for the hidden treasure.

Then she sees it.

A tiny bottle with a stopper.

Aladdin’s lamp.

Just an old, small, rusty oil lamp, that’s all it is. Centuries old. Been in my family for generations. Stolen from a dragon’s hoard.

She reaches for it, almost curling her fingers around it, just as a giant hand clasps her arm.