Red Queen by Christina Henry

said.
    â€œDon’t see how she could punish us worse than she already has,” Cod muttered.
    â€œI’m sure the Queen has more imagination than you,” Pen said. “A maggot would.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?” Cod roared.
    â€œIt means you’re a selfish cur without the brains of a dog!” Pen shouted back, and Alice was once more subjected to a violent shaking.
    All of a sudden she decided she’d had quite enough,
thank you
. She opened her mouth and emitted a scream so bloodcurdlingly shrill it stopped both the giants dead.
    Pen lifted her to his eyes. They were like tremendous boulders in his face; Alice thought she might be only half the height of his nose, and that it might take seven or eight Alices to reach from the bottom of his chin to the top of his head. His face was an almost perfect duplicate of the first giant’s.
    â€œHere, now, what’s all this?” he asked, and he had the temerity to sound insulted.
    The constant hanging and shaking and screaming and the threat of imminent death had quite taken Alice’s breath away, but she managed to gasp out, “Turn . . . me . . . over.”
    Only then did Pen seem to grasp the distress Alice was in and right her in his palm, his expression somewhat abashed. “Sorry about that, miss. It’s just I was angry at my brother here and forgot I was holding you.”
    â€œYes, I gathered,” Alice said, attempting to look as though she witnessed arguments between giants all the time and certainly failing as she staggered across Pen’s hand and was forced to sit. She could have stretched out flat with her arms wide and not covered the whole breadth of his palm. “Do you think you would let me down now? I’d feel much better with the ground beneath my feet. Not that your hand isn’t lovely.”
    She added this last bit hastily, not wishing to offend the giant and have him decide she was better off in his brother’s gullet after all.
    â€œOf course, of course, miss,” Pen said, lowering his hand toward the ground.
    As he did, Alice caught a glimpse of both giants’ faces looming above her—and the gleam of malice in Cod’s eye. Pen appeared to have noticed the same light, for he hesitated when Alice was still several feet from the ground.
    Then he said, “What if I were to accompany you for a short way? Perhaps until you rejoin your companion?”
    The creature’s formal language was so at odds with its monstrous appearance and the behavior of his brother that Alice nearly laughed aloud. But she didn’t dare. The giant hadn’t released her yet, and his hand was just as large and bruising as the other’s.
    â€œI thank you very much for your kindness, sir,” Alice said, matching her tone to his. “But I would not wish to inconvenience you. If you would point me back to the path, I would be very grateful.”
    â€œOh, no, it’s no inconvenience at all, miss,” the giant said, and instead of lowering her to the ground he lifted her again, higher and higher—
    (And I’ve had quite enough of heights as well.)
    â€”until his palm was level with his shoulder. It was quite clear what he expected Alice to do. She sighed, a very small and almost inaudible sigh, and clambered over his palm to the giant’s rather horny shoulder, gripping one of the protrusions so as not to fall off.
    â€œRight,” said Pen. “You go back to the village now, Cod. Gil’s waiting there for you.”
    He showed Cod his fist as he spoke, making it clear what his brother could expect if he didn’t obey.
    â€œWhat about you?” Cod asked, an ugly grimace twisting his mouth. “Where do you think you’re off to with her?”
    â€œI’ll be along directly, as soon as I assist this lady.”
    â€œI don’t think you are,” Cod said. “I think you’re just keeping