The Witch's Tower Read online

  I took his arm, and he led me through the village. We walked past the fountain shaped as a Pegasus, the sounds of trickling water following us. Horses and carts passed us by, their wheels squeaking over the cobbled lanes. We stopped when we reached a tall building with a thatched roof and red shutters that reflected the evening sunlight.

  As we entered, the heavenly scent of baked bread washed over me, bringing back memories from my childhood, when I’d been a scrawny kid running through the castle halls, scrounging up morsels of bread to take home to Mother.

  “Shall we sit here?” Raj asked, motioning to a table near an open window where a breeze rushed through.

  “Yes, that’s fine.”

  I took a seat across from him. He smiled at me, revealing dimples in his cheeks I hadn’t noticed before. I’d never seen such a genuine smile, his white teeth contrasting his smooth, bronzed skin. His dark, exotic eyes were attractive, yet held a calculated intelligence. My heart gave a slight flutter, confusing me. Surely, I couldn’t be attracted to him. He’d hurt me!

  I straightened the napkin on my lap and dodged his bewitching smile. The last thing I needed was to be distracted by a squire—the king’s son’s squire—no less. What would High Sorcerer Varlocke say to that?

  I’d be flayed.

  A woman placed a basket of baguettes and a tumbler of honey on the table, then ambled away. I wanted to keep my composure. Looking desperate at a time like this wouldn’t be prudent, but my hunger won out, and I grabbed a piece of bread, drowned it in honey, and took a bite.

  My taste buds danced at the flavors of soft bread and sweet honey. Why did starvation make food taste so heavenly?

  Raj cleared his throat as he watched me eat.

  “Tell me,” he said. “How is it you came to live in the tower?”

  “It was because of a fight between my mother and the high sorcerer. It was a stupid argument. Long story. You probably don’t want to hear it.”

  “We have time.”

  Did we? I glanced out the window. Assuming I could buy all my supplies tonight, and assuming I was able to get a cart to carry them in, I would be able to make it back to the tower tonight and be there before morning. I supposed I had nothing better to do than sit around and talk about my harrowing past. At least it made a good story.

  “All right,” I said, “but it’s a depressing tale. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very well. Before I was born, my mother lived in a cottage near the castle. Her name was Aethel. She grew things in her garden, and she was very skilled at it. In fact, her radishes were said to be magical—they could make a person invincible.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, the then King Varlocke found out about her radishes. He started stealing them from her. After that, he did something he hadn’t been able to do before, he started vanquishing all the outlying villages around him, and then the other kingdoms. It’s how he became high sorcerer.”

  “With magical radishes?”

  I nodded.

  He rested his fisted hands on the table. When he looked away from me, I saw the pain in his eyes. “Most of my people were killed by the high sorcerer, including many of my family. My little sister.” He breathed deeply to keep his composure. “He sacked our nation and wiped out our kingdom. He destroyed my home.”

  I nodded. It was a painful subject, but no one had experienced High Sorcerer Varlocke’s wrath as badly as the Outlanders.

  “My mother discovered what the king was doing,” I said. “She was infuriated, but there was nothing she could do to harm him—the magical radishes made sure of that—so she did something petty and stupid, something I’m ashamed of, and something I pay the price for every day. She cursed his only offspring, his daughter Rapunzel. She made it so that her hair would grow unnaturally long, weighing so heavy it left her bedridden. My mother created the curse so that only a prince with a noble heart would have the ability to break it.

  “The high sorcerer killed my mother after she cursed his daughter, but it didn’t stop his rage. He cast a spell to kill all the princesses in the land, making sure everyone felt his suffering, and then he locked his only daughter in a tower, and demanded I be her protector as punishment for my mother’s crimes.”

  “It’s true, then? You really are Witch Aethel’s daughter?”

  I nodded as he attempted to look under my hood’s cowl. “And you have…?”

  “Blue hair? Yes.”

  I pushed my cowl back for a moment. His eyes widened. It wasn’t only the color that made it stand out, but the magic that came with it. Sparks danced through the strands, reflected in the greenish-blue color of my eyes. I quickly replaced my head covering before anyone else noticed.

  A serving girl arrived with two steaming bowls and placed them in front of us.

  “Onion stew,” she said, then turned away. I grabbed my spoon and took a small bite. The saltiness of the broth mingled with the sharp, rich flavor of the onion. I ate guiltily, thinking of Rapunzel stuck in the tower with nothing but moldy bread and those awful wild beets. I would return soon. She would be eating like a queen by tomorrow morning.

  “You said only a prince with a noble heart could break Rapunzel’s curse?” Raj asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So, it is possible to break the curse?”

  We were back to the curse again. Somehow, I knew he wouldn’t let it go.

  “No, it’s not possible. I told you that already.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said a prince with a noble heart could break the curse, but there are none.”

  He worked his jaw back and forth, and I couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles played along his strong jawline. Mesmerizing, in a way.

  I stopped myself. I couldn’t seriously be attracted to this man, could I? No. I refused to entertain such thoughts.

  Turning back to my stew, I ate in silence.

  “If we were to find a prince—”

  “No.”

  He sighed in exasperation. “There’s got to be something. I can’t bring Prince Merek’s sleeping body back to his father without freeing the princess, and I can’t leave him inside that tower the way he is. He was barely breathing as it was.”

  “Wait,” I said, my spoon halfway to my mouth. “How do you know he was barely breathing?”

  “It was dark for one thing, and that hair! By the gods, I’ve never seen anything like it. He fell unconscious as soon as he saw that poor girl, and when I left, I could tell he was still breathing, but—”

  “Back up. You saw Rapunzel? You went inside the tower?”

  “Yes, how else would I have known what happened to him?”

  “I didn’t realize you went inside the tower.”

  “Well, I couldn’t have done my job of protecting the prince if I’d stayed outside, could I?”

  “How?” I sputtered. “It’s not possible for anyone to enter the tower but me and the high sorcerer without falling under the spell…”

  “I got lucky, I suppose.”

  I eyed him. I wasn’t entirely sure he was telling the truth. He was desperate to save the prince. What if he was trying to trick me?

  “Raj.” I said his name slowly. “I want you to be very sure you’re recalling last night to the best of your ability. Are you certain you went inside the tower?”

  “Of course! I have no reason to lie to you.”

  “Actually, you do.”

  “Are you accusing me of lying?”

  “I’m accusing you of remembering incorrectly.”

  He sat back, crossing his arms, making his muscles bulge, which I tried hard not to notice, but failed. “Then let me prove it to you. Take me back to the tower, and I’ll show you how I entered without falling under Rapunzel’s curse.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, taking another bite. “It’s probably because you’re not a prince. The spell must only work if someone with noble blood tries to free her. Since you’re not, it didn’t affect you.”

  “Does this mean you’ll take me back to the tower?”

  “Fine,” I relented. “But first, I finish my stew.”

  3

  Moonlight illuminated the tower as Raj and I crossed into the meadow. The handcart’s wheels squeaked as I pulled it to a stop at the base of the tower. Raj had been true to his word and purchased all the supplies we needed for winter. I couldn’t complain—I was grateful he’d done it. I only hoped he didn’t expect a miracle in return.

  Now I had the chore of transporting everything into the tower. Luckily, I’d brought my largest knapsack. As I loaded vessels of lentils, bags of flour, and a few jars of syrup into my bag, Raj stood over me.

  “You’re bringing all that up there?” he asked.

  “It’s better than leaving it down here.”

  “You really live up there all the time?”

  “Yes, I only ever come out to gather edibles, or when we’re desperate for supplies.”

  “But how do you get water?”

  “We have a well inside the tower. Can you help me?” I tossed him an empty burlap sack. If he was so insistent on being here, he might as well help me.

  “It seems like a lonely existence.”

  I eyed him. Lonely? What did he know of loneliness? I didn’t feel like admitting to this stranger how desperately lonely the past five years had been, how I lay awake at night wishing I had someone to talk to, feeling as if the silence would drive me to insanity. No, he didn’t need to know any of that.

  “It’s not that bad. Rapunzel isn’t one for talking, but we have a cat. His name is Jester. He keeps me company most of the time.”

  “A cat?”

  “Yes. He’s mostly feral. But he’s friend
ly enough, and he comes and goes as he pleases. He’s even learned to climb the vines to get in and out of the tower. He’s quite clever.” I adjusted the pack’s straps on my shoulders. “Now, let’s get up there before Rapunzel…” I stopped myself. “Let’s get up there.”

  With the pack strapped to my back, I turned to the tower. Wind rushed past, battering my hair against my cheeks, as I prepared to speak the spell.

  “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” My words carried on the wind, echoing through the forest.

  I waited, nervousness making my hands grow clammy as I held to the pack’s straps, but why did I feel so uneasy? Was it because Raj was with me?

  I turned to him. He stood with haunting dark eyes as he watched a coil of ropy, matted hair drop from the tower’s only window high above us. I stepped to the length of hair and grabbed it, holding my breath against the scent of unwashed scalp. I never got used to that smell.

  “Should I follow you?” Raj asked.

  “Yes. But let me enter first.” Gripping the hair tightly, I started the climb. I made my way toward the window at the top of the tower. Halfway up, my muscles burned, and I focused on breathing to make it the rest of the way. This part was always the hardest, and the sack of supplies weighing me down wasn’t helping. Why did Varlocke have to put his daughter into such an impossibly tall tower?

  When I reached the window, I grabbed the ledge. The worn stones felt smooth under my palms as I climbed over, then landed inside. As I straightened, I pulled off the pack and left it on the floor, then focused on the room. Moonlight illuminated the bare stones walls, the well sitting at the room’s center, the wooden chairs, roughly-hewn tables, huge bookcases cluttered with dusty spell journals and vials, and the bed where Rapunzel lay.

  I stepped over the matted coils of hair. Pieces of rat and bird bones lay trapped in the knotted strands, seeming to glow white against the dark hair. The sound of gnawing stopped me.

  She wasn’t.

  “Rapunzel,” I said quietly. “What are you doing?”

  The gnawing continued. I approached her on quiet feet, afraid of what I might find. Behind me, Raj scrambled inside the room.

  Please don’t let it be the prince.

  When I reached her side, her pale, skeleton-white skin glowed in the moonlight. She held a rat.

  I exhaled, grateful it was only a rodent and not something—someone—else. A crust of bread and a handful of wild beets sat on the bedside table, but they were untouched.

  Raj’s footsteps echoed, and I turned to face him. His tall, lean frame looked so out of place. Only the high sorcerer ever visited, and to have an Outlander squire inside my home unnerved me.

  “Is she eating something?” he asked. “What is that?”

  “Sorry. It’s the cat’s fault. He catches them and leaves them on her lap. He thinks he’s giving her a prize or something. Rapunzel does that with them sometimes—with the rats—eats them, I mean.” I stumbled over my words, feeling immeasurably mortified that Raj had to see it. But it could’ve been worse.

  I approached her. She looked up, as if only seeing me now, and she hissed. With her red-rimmed eyes, it looked as if she hadn’t been sleeping, and her collarbones seemed to be protruding more than I remembered. Her white gown hung off her meatless frame, but at least it was the clean one I’d left for her. She’d managed to change clothes—at least there was that.

  “Where is the prince?” Raj asked.

  “I don’t know.” I scanned the room. With the large piles of hair covering the floor, he could’ve been hidden, but we should’ve seen some clue he was here—his feet or a hand poking out. Something. “You’re certain he came up here?”

  “Yes, positive.”

  I studied the tower more thoroughly but didn’t see anything that resembled the prince. Odd. Where was he?

  “Rapunzel,” I said, turning to her, “we’re looking for a prince. Have you seen him?”

  She shook her head, clutching the rat, her fingers digging into the carcass.

  “Please,” Raj said. “I need to find him. His father is the king. He’ll be very sad if he loses his only son. Can’t you tell us where he is?”

  Rapunzel focused on the man, but she remained silent. Outside, the sky lightened. Pink streaked through the gray as dawn approached. As the sun rose, sunlight streamed into the room, giving light to the dark places. Something thudded inside the well, and Raj followed me as I maneuvered around the coiled hair toward the raised ring of stones surrounding the deep drop that went straight through the bottom of the tower.

  “Is there something in the well?” Raj asked.

  “Someone probably.”

  I pried open the lid. Sitting atop the wide-mouthed bucket was the prince, who stared up at us with a vacant expression. Hair coiled around him as blue bands of magic wrapped his wrists and ankles. I grabbed his tunic with both hands and attempted to lug him out. He was heavier than he looked.

  “How’d he get in there?” Raj asked.

  “Rapunzel. She tried to throw him down, I assume.”

  “She can do that?”

  “With her hair, yes. She’s clever when she’s motivated.”

  “He was looking at me!” Rapunzel yelled. Well, at least she was finally speaking.

  “She can talk?” Raj asked.

  “Yes, when she feels like it. Can you help me?”

  Raj grabbed the prince’s feet and helped me lift him out of the well. We placed the prince atop a coil of hair. He lay motionless, his wide eyes frozen with fear. The prince’s sallow skin and sunken, gaunt cheeks made him almost unrecognizable.

  The spell washed over me, brushing my skin with its intensity. Reaching out, I searched my mother’s magic, trying to determine the damage her spell was doing to him. I’d been under the impression the spell would put him to sleep and nothing more. He would wake in a few weeks and all would be as it was. But seeing him now made me wonder if there was darker magic at work.

  I took his wrist in my hand, feeling for his life’s blood. Only a weak thrumming pulsed beneath his skin. The enchantment’s poisonous taint made me shudder.

  With sickening horror, I realized the magic was poisoning him. He was dying.

  Swallowing my fear, I stood away from the prince to distance myself from the overwhelming magic.

  “What’s the matter?” Raj asked.

  I wasn’t sure how to tell him, but he had to know. “I’m sorry, but the curse is worse than I thought. Your friend will be dead in two weeks. Three, maybe.”

  “What?” he asked, shocked. “Can’t we do anything for him?”

  “There’s only one thing that can be done. We would have to take away the spell that made him this way. We’d have to cut Rapunzel’s hair.”

  From her bed, Rapunzel barked a shrill laugh. “Ha! Can’t be done!”

  “It could be done,” I corrected, “if one had the golden shears.”

  “What are the golden shears?” Raj asked.

  “A magical talisman. They’re guarded by infinitely powerful beings.”

  “Who guards them?”

  “My aunts Gwynna and Neleia. They live in the Ice Mountains.”

  “Then we’ll travel to the Ice Mountains and get the shears.”

  “It won’t be easy—if it’s even possible. We’d have to pass through Spirit Woods and the Outerlands—and that’s assuming my aunts would willingly give up the shears in the first place. I’m certain they won’t, not without some sort of trade.”

  “Then we’ll trade.”

  “For what?”

  “Whatever they want.”

  “Impossible,” I said. “You need to know who my aunts are. They’re witches, and they’re not friendly. In fact, if we were to approach them without a trade that interests them, they’d have no problem killing us.”

  “But you’re their niece.”

  “They don’t care.”

  He crossed his arms, his brows knitted, as if deep in thought. “We’ll have to figure out something. Prince Merek came here to rescue the princess. He was trying to end the war. Don’t you see? If he marries Rapunzel, the high sorcerer’s throne passes to him. No one will recognize Varlocke as high sorcerer once his daughter weds. There are men dying on the battlefield as we speak. This war has been going on for years, and more people die the longer the high sorcerer fights. King Duc’Line sent me and his son here to claim the high sorcerer’s daughter, so that the prince could marry her and end the war. We have to undo the spell. If we don’t, more people die, and not only soldiers, but anyone who crosses the high sorcerer. Women and children, entire families. Surely you must know how evil the high sorcerer is.”