In a Glass Grimmly by Adam Gidwitz

we make you into the most beautiful girl in the kingdom? Would that please you?”
    Jill caught her breath.
    “Her? Beautiful? Not possible,” said Jack. Jill hit him.
    The old woman chuckled. The darkness was becoming heavier, but her pale eyes shone all the more brightly.
    Jill looked from Jack to the old woman. At last, the little girl said, “You can’t really . . .”
    “But I can, my dear. If you wish it. Do you?”
    Jill stole another glance at Jack, and then she nodded fiercely. Even after the silk, and the procession, she wished for this. More than anything.
    “Good,” said the old woman. “You won’t be sorry. Now, before we grant you these gifts, before we change your very lives, you’ve got to agree to do something for us in return. Nothing too onerous. A small favor. Just so we’re even.”
    At this moment, under the spell of the old woman’s words, Jack and Jill would have agreed to anything.
    “We just need you to run and fetch us a glass.”
    “A glass?” asked Jill.
    “That’s easy,” replied Jack. “Where is it?”
    “Well,” said the old woman. “It’s lost. It’s been lost for a little while now. But if you can find it, Jack, we will make you admired, and Jill, we will make you the beauty of the kingdom.”
    “You swear?” Jack asked.
    The old woman’s grin stretched across her wide, smooth face. “I swear on my very life,” she said. “Now will you swear on your very lives to get us this glass?”
    “Okay,” said Jack.
    The old woman looked at Jill. “And you?”
    “Don’t do it!” the frog hissed from deep inside the blanket.
    Jill hesitated.
    The old woman, in a voice as low as the wind, said, “If you swear to get that glass, I will swear to make you as beautiful as you have ever dreamed of being.”
    And then Jill said, “Okay.”
    The woman turned her pale, glowing eyes on Jack. “Now, my boy, will you give me that bean?”
    “How did you know about . . . ?” Jack stammered.
    The woman smiled and held out her hand. Jack, watching her carefully, placed the bean in her wrinkled palm. The bean glowed in the bone-white light of the moon.
    “Give me your thumbs,” said the old woman. Jack and Jill stuck out their thumbs. The old woman plucked one of her thin, silvery hairs from her head. Then she took the end of her hair and poked Jill’s thumb with it. Jill winced. A bead of blood appeared. The old woman did the same to Jack. Then to herself.
    Then she scooped a handful of earth from the ground with long, hard fingernails, and placed the white bean, still shimmering by the light of the moon, in the earth. She held her thumb over the bean. She motioned for the two children to do the same. They did.
    “I swear on my life,” she said.
    “I swear on my life,” said Jack.
    “I swear on my life,” said Jill.
    Three drops of blood spattered the white bean. Then the old woman covered the bean again with black soil.
    “As soon as I’m gone,” she said, “this beanstalk will grow to the sky.”
    “What?” said Jack.
    “And when it does,” the old woman smiled, “you must climb it.”
    “Why?” Jill objected.
    “To find the glass!”
    “Your cup is in the sky?” said Jack.
    “It’s not a cup,” the old woman corrected him. “It’s a glass. A looking glass. A mirror. In fact, it is called the Seeing Glass, and it is very old, and very important. In fact, it might be the most important and the most powerful looking glass in the history of the world.”
    Jack and Jill stared at the old lady like maybe she was a little bit insane.
    Then Jill asked, “And it’s in the sky?”
    The old woman, to the children’s great surprise, laughed. “I don’t know! It has been lost for a thousand years!”
    “What?” cried Jack. “So what if we can’t find it?”
    “You swore on your
life
,” said the old woman. “If you can’t find it, you die.”
    “What?” cried Jack again.
    “What?” cried Jill.
    “What?” cried the frog from inside