“My only magic is that magic doesn’t work around me,” said Annie. “If you touch me, your magic will fade. If you’re even near me, your magic will fade, too.”
“And if you try to cast a spell at her, it will bounce back onto you,” said Liam.
“That’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever heard!” cried Voracia. “Whatever turned you into such an unspeakable monster?”
“My fairy godmother’s magic,” said Annie, smiling.
A crow cawed, and Annie turned her head. A small flock was circling the island, peering through the holes in the skull.
“Those chatterboxes are going to tell everyone what has happened to me!” howled Voracia. “That witch Terobella is going to be the wickedest in the land and I’ll be the laughingstock of the swamp.”
“Not if you help me,” said Annie. “Tell me what I need to know. We’ll leave and your magic will get strong again. Sixteen years ago you cast a spell on my sister, Gwendolyn, that would make her die when she pricked her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel. Another fairy at my sister’s christening changed the curse so that instead of dying, Gwendolyn would fall asleep for a hundred years only to awaken at her true love’s kiss. I’ve found princes to kiss her, but now I need you to do whatever it takes so that we don’t have to wait for one hundred years. You cast the original curse, so it’s up to you to undo it.”
“I’d forgotten all about that curse. Haven’t thought about it for years. I can’t take it back, if that’s what you want,” said Voracia. “However, I can give you something that will make the time shorter.”
“I want it to end now!” said Annie.
“That’s what I said!” Voracia grumbled. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” She headed for the stairs.
“I think we’ll go with you,” said Liam, setting his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I don’t trust her if we can’t see her,” he whispered to Annie.
“I don’t trust her even if I can see her,” Annie replied.
The stairwell was damp and dark, but the passage underneath was worse. Water flowed over their feet as they followed Voracia deep underground. The smell of bat dung met them as the passage curved, but the fairy turned into a cave lined with trunks and boxes before they encountered any bats.
Choosing one of the trunks, Voracia reached inside and pulled out a large, dusty bottle. “Here, give your sister a sip of this when she wakes and you can forget the hundred years part.”
“If I give this to her and anything goes wrong, you know I’ll be back,” said Annie as she reached for the bottle. “I’ll move in and you’ll never be rid of me.”
“Never mind!” said Voracia, snatching the bottle away. After putting it back, she rummaged in another trunk for a moment, finally pulling out another bottle just as old and dusty. “Here, give her some of this instead, but make sure she drinks it within three minutes of waking or she’ll fall asleep again and nothing will wake her in less than a hundred years. Now go away and don’t ever come back.”
Annie took the bottle and handed it to Liam. “We won’t, provided this works and that you never bother my family again.”
“I wouldn’t go near them for all the poisoned apples in the world,” said Voracia. “Not if it means I would have to see you!”
CHAPTER 13
ANNIE WAS RELIEVED when they finally left the swamp behind, but Liam refused to relax. “Something’s not right,” he said as they settled into their saddles. “We’re being watched. I can feel it.”
“Do you think Voracia...”
Liam shook his head. “I don’t think it’s Voracia, or anything magical. I think it’s... Wait! Look over there!”
“I don’t see anything.”
“I don’t either now, but I could have sworn I saw someone peeking at us from behind those trees.”
“Maybe it was a wood nymph or a fairy,” Annie suggested.
“Maybe,” said Liam, although he didn’t sound convinced. “You stay here while I go look around and—”
A twig cracked behind them, startling them both. “Let’s get out of here,” said Annie. “This swamp is creepy and it will be dark in a few hours. I don’t want to be anywhere near Voracia when the sun goes down.”
“There’s an inn only an hour’s ride from here,” Liam said. “It’s not very fancy, but the bedding is clean and the food is good.”
“I couldn’t ask for anything more,” said Annie.
She tried to carry on a conversation with Liam as they rode through the forest, but he was paying more attention to what was going on around them than to what she had to say. Although he kept turning his head to the side as if he heard riders in the woods, Annie neither saw nor heard anything unusual. The road soon took them out of the forest and across farmland where low stone walls divided the fields that covered the rolling hills. Every time they reached the top of a hill, Liam stopped to look back. Annie turned as well, but the way was always clear.
They reached the crossroads where the inn was located without seeing anyone. While the hostler led the horses into the stable, Liam went in search of the innkeeper to arrange for rooms and a bath for the princess. Hearing a crowd in the taproom, Annie peeked through the doorway. Travelers sitting down to an early supper already occupied most of the tables. She smiled at the first curious glances, but when she saw the way people were looking at her swamp-stained clothes and disheveled hair, she stepped outside to wait for Liam.
Two men stood by the entrance to the stables watching the inn. When one of them noticed Annie, he spoke to the other and they both started toward her. Although they were dressed in rough homespun, they looked vaguely familiar.
Annie was still trying to decide where she might have seen them when a third man came out of the inn behind her. “Princess Annabelle?” he said.
“Yes?” replied Annie, turning to face him. In an instant, one of the men approaching from the stable threw a cloth bag over her head while the other grabbed her hands and tried to tie them behind her back. She kicked out at the men and opened her mouth to scream just as the third man knocked her on the head with something hard. With a soft moan, Annie collapsed in a heap at their feet.
When Annie woke, her head was pounding and her mouth tasted like sweaty feet. She sat up and groaned as the throbbing in her head worsened. A light flickered overhead. Annie stared at it for some time before it registered in her mind that it was a guttering torch about to go out. Darkness was creeping closer when she stood and staggered against a wall, her head reeling. It occurred to her that she was in a dungeon and she wondered vaguely how she might have gotten there. Then it all came back—the swamp, Liam’s suspicion that they were being followed, and the men at the inn. She remembered now where she had seen the men before. It was in the woods shortly after she left the secret tunnel leading from her parents’ castle. The men had been talking about her even then.
The torch was getting fainter when Annie took a step and nearly tripped over a basket. Glancing down, she saw that it was filled with new torches, waiting to be lit. Snatching up one of the torches, she held it to the dying light and held her breath until a flame blossomed. Thinking that if her kidnappers had provided her with light, they might have left something else, Annie raised her head to look around.
She was in a circular room with a low ceiling and a set of stairs at the opposite side. The stones of the wall beside her were lighter than the rest and the mortar was still damp, as if someone had recently filled in a hole. Water burbled in a stone basin only a few yards away. Apparently the tower had been built over a spring, providing fresh water for whoever was unfortunate enough to be trapped inside. Barrels and trunks were scattered across the floor, some stacked, others open and partially emptied. Piles of clothes and shoes were strewn across the floor, forcing Annie to pick her way with care as she headed to the stairs.
The stairs had been built against the wall and were open on the side facing into the room. When Annie reached the first step, she paused and raised the
torch high. Although the stairs were dark beyond the reach of the light, there was no door to block her way. It was obvious that she was in a tower, but as she climbed, she wondered just how high it might be. Passing the floor of the next level, she looked around long enough to see that it was empty, and continued up the stairs. The third and fourth levels were empty as well. The stairs ended at the fifth level in a room with a high ceiling and open windows framing the night sky.
As Annie stepped into the room, a large shape rose up, startling her until she heard it hoot. “Shoo!” Annie shouted, waving the torch at the owl. The bird swerved and flew through one of the windows, blocking her view of the twinkling stars for a moment.
Crinkling her nose at the pungent odor of owl, Annie began to explore the room. It was a bedchamber with a bed against one wall and a table and chair against another. With an ornate headboard carved with hummingbirds and flowers, the bed would have been pretty if its rumpled covers hadn’t been so mussed, as if the sleeper had just gotten up. Gowns, tunics, and undergarments were strewn across the floor. Annie found a scarf draped across the foot of the bed. It was the kind that could be worn in a lady’s hair, much like the kind Annie had worn on occasion. This one was dirty, however, and smelled of perfume. Annie picked up a gown by one sleeve. It smelled of unwashed body as well as perfume, and showed stains from food and drink.
“A woman lived here,” Annie murmured to herself. “She must have just left.”
Hoping to find some hint as to who it might have been, she made a quick inspection of the room. The wind was picking up, however, and she began to shiver as the temperature dropped. Annie dragged a blanket from the bed and made herself a cozy nest on the floor, letting the bed block most of the wind. Dousing the torch wasn’t easy, but she’d found a flint on the table and knew she could relight the torch when she needed it again.
As the wind whistled through the tower, Annie huddled on the floor and pulled the blanket close. Eventually, her eyes drifted shut; she never noticed when the wind died down and the owl swooped past the window.
Sunlight was streaming through the windows on the east side of the tower when Annie woke the next morning. She was yawning widely when she saw that there were shutters on either side of each window, something she would have found useful the night before if only she had noticed them. Closing her mouth, she felt a hair on her tongue. She wiped her face to brush the hair aside, but nothing happened. Although her hands were dirty, she stuck her finger and thumb in her mouth, and pulled out the hair … and pulled and pulled. The hair wasn’t all the way in her mouth, just running through it. She finally got it out and examined it with disgust. The hair was blond and so long that she had to stand to measure it against her own height. Annie was about five feet tall, and the hair was nearly ten times longer. The thought that anyone could have hair that long turned her stomach, especially when she thought about it being in her mouth.
Annie walked to the window, thinking she might see a castle or village or at least people she could call to, but there was nothing to see except trees. After checking the view from another window, she made a circuit of the room; the trees seemed to go on forever. She was leaning against the sill of the last window when she noticed a clump of long blond hair snagged on the ledge. Backing away from the sill, she noticed another hair on the floor. When she bent down, she discovered that they were all over the floor... and the bed and the chair and in all the clothes. Grimacing, she was trying to decide what to do with all the hair when she heard a voice calling from outside the tower.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!”
Thank goodness! Someone who can help me get out of here! Annie thought, and ran across the room to the window where she’d found the clump of hair. A young man stood at the base of the tower, his horse already tied to the nearest tree. He was squinting and shading his eyes when he looked up, so Annie wasn’t sure he could really see her.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no one here by that name,” called Annie. “Would you mind helping me down though? I seem to be trapped up here, and I need to get out. I have to get back to my kingdom.”
“I don’t understand,” the young man began. “I’m Prince Mortimer and I’ve come to visit my beloved, Rapunzel. Are you sure she isn’t there?”
Annie shook her head. “I’ve looked everywhere. There’s no one here but me.”
The prince muttered to himself before looking up at Annie again. “Say, if she isn’t there, why don’t you let down your hair so I can climb up?”
“You’re joking, right?” Annie’s hair reached to the back of her knees, but she never let it get any longer. She thought it was hard enough to deal with as it was. Besides, just as she had resented it when Prince Andreas had seemed to think that she and her sister were interchangeable, she didn’t like the way Mortimer seemed to think he could swap Rapunzel for her. It wasn’t a topic she wanted to broach with this stranger, however, so instead she said, “My hair isn’t nearly long enough to reach you. Tell me, does Rapunzel have long blond hair?”
“She has the most glorious long blond hair and she lets it down every time I come by. I climb up and we enjoy each other’s company for the entire day. I look forward to Wednesdays every week.”
“I bet you do,” Annie said. “Why didn’t you ever rescue the poor girl?”
Prince Mortimer looked affronted. “Rapunzel wouldn’t let me. She said that a witch had put her there and if I took her out, the witch would come after us and kill us both. She said that she wouldn’t mind dying, but she loved me too much for that. So how about it? Will you let down your hair so I can climb up?”
“I told you that I can’t. Why don’t you help me come down there instead?”
“I don’t have a ladder,” said the prince.
“It would take an awfully long ladder to reach this window. I don’t suppose you know how to climb up?”
“Pardon me?”
Annie sighed. “Never mind. If you see a young man named Liam, please tell him that Princess Annie is in this tower and give him the directions.”
“I’ll tell him if I happen to run across him,” said Prince Mortimer, “but I’m not going to go looking for some stranger.”
Annie watched as the young man rode away. After spending one night in the tower, she could imagine how bleak Rapunzel’s life must have seemed locked away there for what she thought was forever. She must really have loved Mortimer to refuse to let him rescue her, Annie thought. Closing her eyes, she pictured herself in the poor girl’s place, but the prince she imagined didn’t look anything like Mortimer. Instead it was Liam’s face she saw, looking at her the way he had just before he kissed her outside the ogre’s castle.
Annie’s mood immediately soured. If Liam had shown up at that very minute, she probably would have snapped at him. He wasn’t a prince and they couldn’t be together, but he’d kissed her nonetheless, and then not said a word about it afterward. She felt like a fool, mooning over a young man who didn’t care enough to tell her that he had special feelings for her, if he really did.
She had no doubt that Liam was already looking for her and would find her eventually, although the thought of so much time being wasted when she had none to waste made her anxious. If Liam came soon, all the better, but if he didn’t, she would do what she could to rescue herself.
Annie glanced around the tower room. There was nothing here to help her, not even a mirror to reflect light in the hope that someone would see it. Her stomach rumbled, making it harder to ignore the hunger that was eating at her. Although she didn’t like the thought of returning to the dark room at the bottom of the tower, it seemed to be the only place she could find food. Using the flint she’d found, she relit the torch and started down the stairs.
The air in the bottom room seemed almost unbearably stuffy and close. Annie looked for food first, and after setting aside bread soft with fuzzy mold and dried meat so hard she knew she risked breaking a tooth if she bit it, she was pleased to find a sm
all, as yet unopened crock of pickled vegetables and half a wheel of moldy cheese. Taking the knife she found stuck in the wheel, she cut off the mold and discarded it before savoring the rich, nutty flavor of the cheese.
She was thirsty now, so she knelt beside the stone basin and took a long, cool sip of water. It tasted surprisingly fresh and when she dropped a few crumbs of cheese in the water, she saw that they swirled away down an overflow hole hidden in the side of the basin. Annie wondered where the water went, so she reached under the lip of the basin and felt for the hole; it was too small for her hand to fit in. When she tried to move the basin in the hope that there might be a larger opening underneath, it was far too heavy.
Carrying the torch in one hand, Annie began to inspect the wall. The stones were all firmly set, however, including those that had been used to fill in the newest opening. She thought about using the cheese knife to dig through the mortar, but it would take too much time.
Discouraged, Annie filled a jug with water and took it along with the crock of pickled vegetables and the remains of the cheese wheel up the stairs to the room at the top. She’d really been hoping that she would find some secret latch or hidden door, but if there was any such thing, the builder had hidden it too well.
Not sure how long she’d be stuck in the tower, Annie decided to make herself comfortable. The room was a mess, and Annie couldn’t bear the thought of living in it the way Rapunzel had left it. After nibbling another piece of cheese, she began to clean the room, tossing all the soiled clothes in a pile and stripping the filthy bedding off the bed. Seeing the condition of the bed underneath, she decided that she’d rather sleep on the floor.
Annie was thinking about going back to the first level to look for a broom when she noticed that some strands of Rapunzel’s hair were stuck to her clothes. She pulled off a strand that had draped itself across her shoulder and down her back. She intended to drop it out the window, but on the way there she got an idea; the more she thought about it, the more perfect it seemed.