Jack, who had no story, pulled out a slingshot and a pouch of crab apples. "Then I'll give you a new one."

Skalla told of the star that fell and broke her father's back. Jack told of the time he tried to milk a bull. Skalla laughed—a sound like an avalanche in a teacup. She let everyone go.

The landlord never got his rent. Jack bought the farm with a single golden hair Skalla had given him, which never stopped growing.

Back on the ground, Jack burned the vine himself. Not because giants are evil, but because some doors are only meant to open once.