Darkness covered the ground and crept up the walls of the apartment buildings everywhere. It fell quietly onto the bushes and trees in the public parks and private gardens like silken cobwebs of dusk. While many parts of the vast city of London still brimmed with life, the business sectors were fairly quiet. Big Ben ticked the minutes by as it looked out across a world that had existed for centuries before it was installed. Westminster Cathedral was almost eerie in its silence; it seemed even the angels were at rest. The shadowy, distinguished buildings of Parliament in the close distance met Ross's view as he leaned out the open half of his stained-glass window. How in the world was he going to get out of the flat?

He'd seen Giant turn the corner of his window ledge, and even though he hadn't seen the boy descend to the ground, Ross knew that there had to be a way down. If Giant had climbed up and down the side of the building, then he could do it too. In his hand, Ross held a flashlight. He was dressed in a heavy sweater and dark pants. If he'd been brave enough to chance sneaking downstairs, he would have put on a coat as well. However, the boy didn't want to risk waking up his uncle. He knew that if Uncle Wallace awoke, he would never get out of the apartment alive. Ross was willing to be cold if it meant he could escape into the night. The boy had re-wrapped the stone in its paper cover and put it into his pants pocket. Ross didn't need a map; he knew where he was going. He walked to the Westminster Underground station every morning in order to get to school. The trip wasn't going to be a problem. The biggest issue was that Ross did not want to be seen wandering around in the middle of the night. He was sneaking out of his home at 12:30 on a school night—something that could get him into some real trouble.

Careful not to shine his flashlight anywhere too suspicious, Ross turned the thing onto the window ledge. The slab of concrete looked more narrow than it had when Giant had been sitting on it with a bag of popcorn in his hand. Second thoughts shot through the boy's mind, but he moved them aside. He was going to get onto solid ground. If Giant could do it, he could do it.

Taking a breath, Ross bent over and climbed through the open half of his window. His feet stayed firm on the concrete ledge. He wore his tennis shoes, and they had soles that gripped firmly. Not looking down, the boy quietly, carefully closed his window, making sure that it was unlocked so he'd be able to get back in through it later. Then, keeping his body close against the wall of the building, he scooted sideways along the ledge. How on earth had Giant been so confident when he was on it? Why, the fool had even gone into a jig or something. He could've fallen and seriously injured himself! Ross was no idiot; he was going to do things the right way. He didn't want to end up with a broken arm or leg, that was for sure. His classmates made enough fun of him for his ordinary appearance; no doubt a cast would make them doubly hard on him.

By the time Ross reached the corner of the building, he was shaking like a brown leaf on a dying tree. The ground wasn't far down enough that he would kill himself if he fell, but the thought of losing his balance and plummeting through the air was still extremely unpleasant. What am I doing? he thought as he searched frantically for a way to get down. The urge to turn around and go right back into the security of his bedroom was strong. Giant is crazy, and I'm crazier for agreeing to this! None of what he says is true and I know it, so why am I still standing here in the cold? Despite what his mind was saying, Ross couldn't bring himself to go back. Struggling, he rounded the corner of the wall and caught sight of a wooden lattice reaching from the ground all the way up to the window ledge.

"Of course!" Ross whispered aloud. How had he not known that this was how Giant had scaled the building? The neighbors inhabiting the flat next door to Ross and his Uncle Wallace grew a lot of flowers in what little space they had. The lattice had held beautiful blossoming vines in the summer months, but now it was empty of any creeping plant life. Only dry leaves and twigs could be seen in some of the squares. The thing looked shaky, and Ross knew that he was heavier than Giant. Still, his right foot moved down onto the first wooden arm, then his left stepped a rung lower. Soon enough, before he'd even known whether it was a good idea to test his weight on the lattice, Ross had reached solid ground. Glancing up, the boy was surprised at how short of a distance he'd actually come. From up high, everything seemed so much farther away. He almost felt embarrassed at how nervous he'd been.

Getting out of his room and down the lattice had taken a bit longer than Ross had expected it to. As he turned to leave the vicinity by way of an alley between his apartment building and the complex next door, he picked up his pace. If he wanted to be on time to meet Giant, he'd have to hurry.

Ross wound through the streets, trying to keep to the shadows because he didn't want to be spotted by a policeman. The last thing he wanted was to be sent home; his uncle would be furious if he knew his nephew was out so late, Ross was sure of it. Uncle Wallace had never yelled at the boy before, but often Ross got the impression that the man was just waiting for a reason to do so. Ross didn't want to give him a reason. He wanted to see as little of his uncle as possible. So he stayed out of the streetlights unless he absolutely had to go through them, and in hardly any time at all, he came to the Westminster tube stop. There were still people coming from the station, but Ross wasn't bothered by that. They were too preoccupied to notice a demure young boy lounging near an almost-full trash can.

For some moments, Ross waited patiently. The night air was damp and chill. He'd taken medicine for his cold before he went to bed, but his head was still feeling stuffed and uncomfortable. His toes began to tingle with incoming numbness, and he rubbed at his arms to keep them warm. He looked at the buildings across the street and behind him; everything was so strange in the deep blue darkness. The River Thames glittered with diamonds of moonlight under the Westminster Bridge. He watched some of the people walking past, not surprised to see them. In big cities, some people were always out somewhere. Ross had come to learn that. Where he used to live, in a suburb, it seemed as if the people set with the sun. Here in London, the city never slept completely.

People-watching got old very quickly. Ross was cold and tired. His yawns grew larger with the passing moments. The boy checked his watch; it was nearly 1:15. Where was Giant?

Suddenly a hand came across Ross's mouth and he was jerked backward before he could regain his balance. Behind the shadow of a closed newspaper stall, Ross was released. The person that had grabbed him came around to look into his face. A cry caught in the boy's throat; his attacker was covered completely in a black cloak, and even his head had the dark fabric draped across it, with small holes cut where the eyes could peek out. Ross was terrified by the appearance of the person. His mind flashed with thoughts of pirates, although whoever this figure was, he didn't resemble Ross's pictures of the swashbuckling, seafaring treasure-stealers he'd read about in books. Was the thing after the stone in his pocket?

Before Ross could scream, the person yanked off its black hood. "Shhh!" it said angrily.

"Oh! It's just you," gasped Ross in relief. He was certain that his heart had skipped a beat or two in its suspense. His ease was covered by anger. Stepping toward the messy-haired Giant, Ross fumed. "What did you do that for? You scared me half to death!"

"Shhh!" Giant repeated. He seemed rather preoccupied, peering around the corners of the newsstand to look onto the street and running through troubled thoughts that were given away by his shifting expressions. Shaking his head, Giant looked to the ground. Then he jerked his gaze back up to Ross's irritated face. "Do you have it?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Have what? Oh, you mean the stone. Sure I—"

"Shhh! Bloody sin, keep your voice down or we'll be found! And don't use that word."

"What word . . . stone?"

"Yes! Shhh!" Giant covered his ears as if it was painful to hear the thing mentioned. He sighed and calmed down. Leaning in closer to Ross, he said, "Listen. We have to be careful what words we use in public. Spies are all around us. We'll call it the knickers."

"The knickers? No way! People will think we're talking about underwear!"

"Exactly! They'll be offended and won't want to stick around to hear what else we've got to say. Now, Ross, we have many things to talk about. Follow me, and stick to the shadows." He paused. "Don't you have creeping clothes?"

Seeing Giant look him up and down in a funny manner, Ross raised his eyebrows in sarcasm. "Well I didn't bring my wizard costume, if that's what you mean. Why do you look so ridiculous, anyway? If someone manages to catch us, they'll wonder a whole lot more about you than me."

Giant ignored Ross entirely. He pulled his hood back down over his head and sneaked another look around the corner of the newsstand. With a motion of his arm he waved at Ross, and the two of them slipped back out onto the street. Quickly, they raced across the wide street toward the Houses of Parliament, Giant's cloak flowing like a set of great wings behind him. They came to the gates surrounding the old, decorated buildings. Big Ben, the clock tower, stared down at them in its white-faced glory. For a moment, Ross suspected that Giant was going to try to climb the rod-iron gate, and he was about to cry out that there were too many guards and too many chances of getting into trouble if they attempted to break into Parliament when, to his surprise, his friend began to run alongside the fence. Around they went, the whole way keeping in sight of the gates. The further ahead Giant ran, the harder it was for Ross to keep sight of him. He realized that Giant's cloak, although a strange outfit, was very clever apparel for someone wanting to keep out of sight.

Eventually, they came to the end of the Houses of Parliament where the buildings gave way to a shadowy garden. Ross knew the place; it was called Victoria Tower Gardens. With little effort, Giant scaled the gate surrounding the garden. Ross, on the other hand, had a great deal of difficulty in climbing over into the trees and bushes. Eventually, he succeeded, and the two boys slipped into even darker pots of obscurity amongst leaves and branches.

Ross had some trouble pushing aside twigs, and they scratched sharply against his cheeks. He wanted to cry out to Giant to ask where they were headed, but the fact that his friend was far ahead of him made talking nearly impossible. Just as Ross was seriously considering turning and trying to find his way back out of the monstrous bushes, he was all at once clear of them. He'd come to a small clearing amidst the bristly plants. Moonlight shone straight down into it, and there, in the center of the open area, sat Giant. The strange boy had removed his hood and was sitting still and cross-legged as he gazed up at the bright disc-of-a-moon high up above.

When he heard Ross flounder into the clearing, Giant said, "You took your time, that's for certain. Did you stop at a pub or something? Did you pick me up some chips?"

Sourly, Ross crawled toward the other boy and sat across from him. "Ha ha. You're real funny. Maybe if you hadn't been taking the absolute worst paths I could've kept up."

"No," replied Giant casually. "I don't think you could have." He turned his face up toward the black sky, where the moon shone like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. "The Deep Sky Fish is at his best tonight; must be because he knew we were meeting here. Now, Roscoe, let me see the knickers."

"The what? Oh. Sure." Rolling his eyes, Ross pulled the stone out of his pocket and handed it to Giant. "We're in the bushes in the middle of the night. Nobody's around. Can't we just call it what it really is?"

"Nope." Giant held the rock up in the moonlight, looking through its dreamish colors.

"I just feel stupid calling it . . . well, you know. That's all."

Giant acted as though he hadn't heard a word. Suddenly, he pulled down his arm and set the stone between them on the ground. "This is the reason we had to meet here tonight. Because of the knickers. See, it's part of my treasure, like I already told you. The pirates are everywhere, or, at least, their spies are everywhere. The pirates don't use themselves as spies; they hire people who look normal, who have normal jobs and families and all the rest. That way they won't look suspicious. And if they do get caught, the pirates are nowhere around them. They don't help them at all."

"Who would want to work for a pirate then?"

"Anybody. They pay very well. And they also promise their spies that if they ever get a hold of all my treasure, they'll give small pieces of it away to the ones who helped them."

Ross shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like all this talk about pirates and spies. It was unnerving in some way. Skeptically, he leaned back and asked indifferently, "What is this treasure of yours? Just a bunch more sto–er, I mean, knickers, like what's right here?"

Giant sighed emphatically. "I know you think I'm barmy, Roscoe. But I still have to tell you all of it, because if I die, somebody has to remember."

"What do you mean? You aren't going to die."

"You never know, really. I mean, there's all sorts of dangers, and the spies are getting closer all the time. That's why . . ." Once again, Giant's nervous habit of looking over his shoulders came across him. Then, quietly, he went on. "That's why I'm planning on leaving sometime soon. I can't stay here in London. I thought it was a great place to be at first, because there're so many people and places to use as hiding spots. But now I realize I have to get back to my empire. The whole thing's fallen apart. Why, I haven't seen it . . . in a very long time. After they took my treasure, it all went into the dustbin, like a manky old sock."

Called to attention suddenly, Ross sat up straight. With a proud grin, he pointed a finger at Giant and laughed. "Ha! A minute ago you said they were after your treasure, and just now you told me they took it!"

"They are different theys, Ross, if you understand."

"Oh. Well I don't understand."

"That's why we're here—to explain things. See, the theys who are after it now are the pirates. They're really bad. But I don't know the theys who stole it from me a long time ago. One night the treasure was there, and then, all of a sudden, it was gone. I didn't know what to do, because everything fell apart. I asked my wise men all about it, but none of them knew where it went. All of them only knew one thing: that whoever took it had broken it into a hundred-times-ten pieces and lost most of them. Since then, I've been looking for the pieces, and just the other day, I found my first one. I'd started to think everything was too lost for me to ever find. But do you know what?"

"No. What?"

Giant leaned closer, so close that his small, straight nose almost touched Ross's chin. "I can feel them more than the other ones can. I can sense when there's a piece of it, because it was mine to begin with. It wants to be put back together. I just know it does."

For a moment, Ross could only stare at the boy across from him in bewilderment. Unkempt thoughts moved through his mind. In the moonlight, with the silence of the gardens around him and Giant's glowing face before him, Ross found his imagination running wild. "How do you suppose the person you stole it off of in the parking lot got a hold of it?"

"He was a spy, no doubt. He'd found a piece, and I'd bet you anything he was going to give it to a pirate at the very moment I took it from him. See, the spies aren't as quick as the pirates are; they're easier to nick things off of. So I knew I had to get it then or else never get it at all. If it had gotten into the hands of a pirate, I would never have seen it again."

"How did you see it?"

Sitting back, Giant looked aside. "I told you . . . I sensed it. I didn't have to see it to know it was there in his pocket."

"Oh." Ross really didn't know of much else to say. Some magic had been broken when Giant turned away from him. It had seemed to Ross that when he'd been staring right into Giant's eyes he'd been caught by some glint of light in them, just like a fish would be snagged by a hook. Now that he had his gaze on the ground rather than his odd friend, Ross feared the chords that had been weaving his fancies had been snapped in half.

The air was thin with silence as the two boys dropped into their own reasoning. Somewhere far off, car horns honked and calling birds flew over the Thames. A soft rain misted the surrounding area as Giant poked absent-mindedly at a patch of brown grass and Ross wiped his sleeve across his nose, which had begun to run. The moist, cold weather was nowhere for a boy with a bad cold to be—Ross knew that. He was beginning to wonder why he had ever agreed to meet with Giant in the middle of the night anyway. It was the stone that made him do it, that was all. And now that the thing was on the ground instead of in his own pocket, Ross started to think that he should be heading home. He needed to get into his nice, warm, dry bed. School tomorrow would be bad enough with the coughing fits he was likely to have; falling asleep in class would only make the teachers along with his classmates angry at him. Yes, he definitely should be getting home.

"Ross, I have decided," said Giant suddenly, breaking the quiet.

The mentioned boy lowered his eyebrows. "Decided what?"

With a sigh, Giant made his reply. "There is no other choice. I have decided to appoint you as Chief Vizier to myself. You have to help me regain my treasure. No one else will. You're the only one."

Ross frowned. "What makes you so sure I want to help? What makes you think I even believe you? Because I sort of think you're just putting me on."

"Yes, I know you think that. I can't say I blame you." Giant bit his lower lip. His drooping eyes appeared even more distressed. "It is all fantastical. I won't be angry with you if you refuse. Just tell me if you don't want anything to do with it, and you'll never have to see me again; it would be too dangerous, you know. Really, I'll understand. Don't say yes if you don't mean it."

A terrible disappointment filled Ross. He was upset with himself more than Giant, although he was irked that he should feel bad. He hadn't been the one to make up tales and expect everyone else to believe them. He hadn't been the one to plan a meeting in the middle of a park on a cold, drizzly night. Giant was a pure charlatan! Still, Ross felt some unease at the thought of never seeing the boy again.

"All right. I'll help you. But I don't really know what to do . . ."

"Great!" Giant's face lit up like a birthday cake. "Don't worry about what to do. I'll tell you. I'm going to figure out some plans. Right now, I have to go." He stood and stretched his arms high over his head. "It's late, you know."

Ross also got to his feet. "Yeah, just a little. Listen, I don't know if I can do another meeting like this, in the middle of the night. My uncle might find out."

"Here," said Giant, picking up the stone from the ground and handing it back to Ross. "You hold this for safekeeping. Don't want anyone to get their hands on it, right? I'll talk to you soon enough. Cheers for now." So saying, the boy pulled on his dark face-covering and scampered away into the bushes, leaving Ross alone in the clearing.

"Er . . . Giant?" called Ross apprehensively. He received no answer. Giant had disappeared as quick as lightning. Some anger crept into him as he realized he'd have to make the entire trip home on his own. Most of what he felt, though, was tired and sick. From across Westminster his bed called him to return to it. Slipping the stone back into his pocket, the boy crawled from the clearing, scaled the garden gates, and started on his way home.