Of course, Gregor and Terry had slipped into the fetid hole the moment the giant strode over to the cage. While he shook it, they clambered in and moved forward blindly, trying to get as far into the wall as possible. They could hear the giant rummaging all around the kitchen, then moving to the front room. As they moved further from the opening, down a long, nasty, grimy, corridor, the light grew fainter and fainter.

Terry took out her golden ball, hoping that its magic would work. Sure enough, it gave her a faint glow, and they followed it as the tunnel took them deeper under the house. The massive shouts of the giant grew slightly fainter, and when the tunnel opened up into a larger space, they took a moment to rest.

“What is this place?” Terry said softly. “And why does it stink so much?”

“Where are my morsels!” the giant raged above them, still quite audible.

Gregor made a face. “I think I know,” he said. And if in confirmation of his statement, another sound could be heard—much closer. It was the sound of squeaking.

“This is rat hole,” he said, then, “Terry, to your left!”

Terry dropped the golden ball where it was—thankfully it continued to glow—and drew her rapier, just in time to come face to face with a horrid rat—the size of a small horse—its beady eyes trained on her. It was clearly unhappy to have company. Gregor also drew his sword.

The rat hissed at both of them, then charged Terry and bit at her with his terrible sharp teeth. Terry pivoted, then stabbed it in the side with her rapier. The rat screamed, then charged at Gregor, who was able to deflect its attack with his iron shield. His broad, sharp sword was the ideal weapon against the beast, and Gregor was trained in the hunt. Expertly, he swung at the back of the rat’s neck, slicing deep into the muscle. The rat screamed, and reared up, blood spurting from the back of its neck. As it reared up, Terry saw her chance and stabbed it in the heart with her rapier. It screamed again, and collapsed, twitching, on the floor of its nest. The smell of blood only increased the powerful, nasty stench of the rat hole.

“I hope there’s not more,” Terry said.

“Well, let’s not stick around to find out,” Gregor replied.

Terry snatched up the golden ball. “I think it will lead us,” she said. “It led me in the forest—it goes dim if you go the wrong way.”

“Well, lead on, girl,” Gregor said. “And let’s hope its magic works here.”

During their horrible fight with the rat, the giant had gone oddly quiet. They tried to put it out of their mind and simply followed the ball through the maze of tunnels that crisscrossed under the giant’s home. Finally, a breath of fresh, cold air reached them—a sweet blessing after walking in the fetid closeness of the tunnels.

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“Look!” Terry said. “Is that—a star?” Sure enough, in the distance, the tunnel finally opened up to a broad, flat meadow, filled with tough prairie grass. The two emerged into a cold and crisp night. In the distance, they could see the castle. But they could neither hear nor see their former jailor.

“I wonder what happened to the giant?” Terry said.

Gregor grunted. “Probably went to his father-in-law’s for dinner.”

They sat for a moment in the short grass of the meadow, catching their breaths.

“Well, it’s a lovely evening,” Gregor said, and the two of them laughed shakily.

“Here’s to domestic bliss,” Terry said.

They took a comforting draught from Gregor’s flask and considered their next move.

“I wonder where we are,” Terry said.

“You don’t know?” Gregor asked.

Terry shook her head. “No clue,” she said. “Maurice has all the maps. He’s the one who conferred with Hemdale to arrange the journey. Ah, we never should have split up. That was a bad decision on my part.”

“You did your best,” Gregor said. “Now, we just have to fix it. It’s easy enough to know which direction we’re going—the mountains of the north. We just have to keep traveling towards them. And now that we know this is giant territory—well, we can be more careful.”

“It’s so hard to hide in these plains,” Terry said.

“I agree,” Gregory said. “I think we should probably travel by night. Giants have terrible eyesight. We’ll just need to find a place to hide before morning. Will your ball guide us?”

“Hm,” Terry said. “I don’t know. We can try.”

But when she took it out, the light was too faint to be useful. The moon was waning, but still about half full, and it provided more light than the ball.

“Well, that way’s north,” Gregor said.

“How do you know?” Terry said.

“Because I’m a woodsman,” he replied, simply. “Do you trust me?”

“With my eyes open,” Terry replied, and the two set off north, walking silently through the grass.

“Gosh it’s cold,” Terry said, after a few hours had passed. The moon was setting behind them.

“Yes,” Gregor said. “That’s a sign we should post up.”

“But where?” Terry said, looking around.

“I’m not sure,” Gregor admitted. “I can’t believe I don’t have my spade! We could dig a shallow hole. But not without it.”

They decided to keep going, continuing their northern trajectory, looking everywhere for a place to hide until morning. But the terrain was unforgivingly broad and empty, without a feature that would hide them. As tired as they were, they decided to keep going. It became more and more difficult to walk, and Terry felt her legs grow stiff in the pre-dawn. Then, suddenly, it was less than night, with this odd aged feeling to the darkness. The darkness grew old, then grey, then suddenly she could catch sight of more and more details of the land around them. And still there was no place to hide. Dragging themselves, they kept going, trying to believe that something would eventually show itself to them. But nothing did.

When the sun rose, they were just too tired to go on, and collapsed where they were in the early morning light, two easily discernible figures on the broad, flat plain. The earliest morning hours slipped by in their exhaustion, then they were jolted awake by a horrible, familiar shout.

“There you are!” the giant said. “My morsels!”