“She’s coming,” Rapunzel whispered, feeling the witch’s presence. “Please, leave here immediately.”
“I am not a coward,” he protested. “I will prove it by staying to help you.” He raised his sword in the air, getting ready to strike at her hair again. Why had he chosen this moment to start acting like a warrior?
“Nay, don’t do it! The more you cut my hair, the more it grows. It is part of the curse. If you want to help me, then find my brothers, Hugh, Arnon, Stefan, Kin, and MacKay de Bar. Or find my father, Lucio, who is a warlock. Tell them where I am and they will come for me.”
“But, my lady,” he said, hesitant to leave, probably wanting to stay only because he wasn’t convinced there was no bounty on her head. Men like him often turned to boasting to build up their self-image. He wasn’t the hero she was looking for to save her from the witch and her awful curse. What she needed was her father to use his magic against Hecuba.
“Go,” she warned him once again. A green mist enveloped the area in front of her, blocking her sight of the man. When it cleared, the old witch, Hecuba, stood before Rapunzel gazing into her magic hand mirror.
“You can’t leave, Rapunzel. How many times do I have to tell you?” Hecuba asked in her crackly voice. She was an old, ugly, bent-over hag with a long, crooked nose and missing teeth. “As soon as your feet touch the ground, your own hair will turn against you every time and be your worst enemy.” She cackled in amusement, making Rapunzel’s skin crawl. “Your curse will never be broken as long as something connects you to the earth. If it isn’t the tower, it’ll be something else. So, don’t think you can ever escape my magic.”
At the sound of a snapping twig, the witch stopped laughing and stood up straighter. “Who’s there?” she called out, cocking her head. When no one answered, she lifted her hand mirror and peered into it. It was magical and let her see anyone, anywhere at all. No one could hide from Hecuba as long as she had her mirror.
Rapunzel held her breath. As much as she hoped Marco would get away, he was without a horse in a storm in the middle of the night. Now he, too, would be a prisoner of the witch, because he didn’t heed her warning.
“Who’s there?” the witch repeated, turning a full circle, scanning the entire area behind her in the reflection in the mirror. Rapunzel bit her tongue and waited. To her astonishment, Hecuba didn’t see Marco. It was a miracle. He couldn’t have gone far but, still, he remained invisible to the witch.
“It was just the wind,” Rapunzel told her, trying not to sound suspicious.
“Mayhap so.” The witch didn’t sound as if she really believed it. Rapunzel had no idea why she hadn’t seen Marco but was happy the man wasn’t found. “Back to the tower with you, Troublemaker.” Hecuba put her hand on Rapunzel’s shoulder. As the green fog swirled around them, preparing to transport them back to the tower that was her prison, Rapunzel got one last glimpse of the bounty hunter watching them from behind a tree.
Perhaps he was magic or, mayhap, a warlock like her father because no one went unnoticed when Hecuba consulted her magic mirror.
Marco watched from behind the old oak tree, fascinated by what he’d just seen. If his eyes weren’t open, he would have sworn it was a dream. There was magic at work here. It reminded him of an incident long ago when he was just a child. He’d had a fantastical dream about riding on the back of a dragon with his father. It all seemed so real that he could still remember the musky scent of the beast, its hard, scaly skin, and the feel of the cold wind blowing through his hair.
Marco looked down to the top of his hand. It was after the dream that he noticed the mark. After all these years, it never faded away. He perused the golden ring on his finger next, rubbing his thumb over the dragon’s eye stone in thought. It was like a worry stone to him. Whenever he felt confused or troubled, he rubbed the stone in the ring. It helped him to feel more centered and clear-headed. Even though this was something he’d been doing a lot lately, it was different tonight. In the light of the moon and with the rain soaking him to the skin he swore he saw the ring light up in a faint glow. Then as fast as it happened, it stopped.
Marco shook his head, wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. After all, he’d had one hell of a night. Not only had he lost his bounty, but a girl fell from the heavens, almost landing on his lap. He’d also managed to somehow stay hidden from an old witch with a magic mirror. And now, his ring was glowing.
The neighing of a horse caused him to turn around, finding his steed standing right behind him. “Aurora, there you are, you fickle nag. I knew you’d come back to me.” He pulled himself up into the saddle, his weight making the leather creak beneath him. Then, he turned a full circle to take one last look at the tall, eerie tower. It was not a castle, but only one turret made of blackened stone that rose up like a beast in the night. It loomed over the dense thicket all around it. Marco had traveled through these woods dozens of times chasing bounties. Why was it he’d never noticed something as significant as this before?
A bolt of jagged lightning spread across the blackened sky, lighting up the tower as a crash of thunder rattled his brain. There, up in the window with the moonlight spilling over her heart-shaped face, stood the girl named Rapunzel with the long, golden hair. She stared out of her prison with a pout on her face. Her lush lower lip stuck out as she leaned forward, surveying the ground below. Even though she’d been soaked to the skin earlier with her hair dripping wet, now she looked as if she’d never stepped foot outside of her confinement at all.
He would never be able to forget her wide, blue eyes and long, curled lashes that were covered in a glittering shade of purple. She’d told him she was a noble. Marco couldn’t stop thinking this lady should be living in a castle with servants waiting on her, rather than being locked away all alone.
“Rapunzel,” he said, remembering her last name was de Bar and that she had brothers. Aye, Rapunzel was a fetching wench. She was also the most intriguing woman he’d ever met in his life. He had to find out more about her. But to go back to the tower was not the answer. Marco turned and rode his horse in the opposite direction, wondering where he could find the brothers she’d mentioned, and how much they’d pay him for her return.
Chapter 2
Rapunzel awoke the next morning to find Hecuba standing over her. The old hag was cradling something in her arms.
“Oh!” Rapunzel jumped up from the bed, only to be pulled back down by her hair. The tendrils of hair were loose. When she moved, they quickly wrapped around the bedpost, the iron candleholder, the legs of a chair, and anything else to keep her in place.
“I can see that’s going to be a problem,” said Hecuba, waving one hand in the air. “There, that should be better.”
Rapunzel watched in amazement as the ends of her hair released and rapidly wove into one long braid. In the past, she would have given anything to have her hair brushed and braided so quickly, but now it only made her angry. She hated hair and anything to do with it.
“Let me out of this prison,” said Rapunzel, knowing it would do no good to ask, but having to try.
“Sit down and be quiet,” said Hecuba. “I have a chore for you.”
“I will not do your bidding!”
“I said, sit down.” With another wave of her hand, an invisible force pushed Rapunzel down in the chair.
“I have things to do and need you to take care of Medea for me.” She placed the bundle on Rapunzel’s lap, making her gasp in surprise.
“A baby?” Rapunzel stared at the child that looked to be a newborn. What was she supposed to do with it? Rapunzel had always dreamed of the perfect wedding and someday being a wife, but she was a noble! She shouldn’t have to take care of babies. This was absurd. “Find a handmaid to watch the baby. I am a noble and don’t know the first thing about taking care of a child.”
“You always were vain, Rapunzel. Being the youngest child of Lucio de Bar, he spoiled you.”
“I am a lady.”
“A lady who cares too much about her looks and not enough about the things that matter in life.”
“That is odd to hear those words coming from your mouth, Hecuba. Whose baby is it? Did you steal it?”
“Nay, I did not steal the baby. What kind of creature do you take me for?”
“Well, you stole me!”
“And you are a grown woman and you can take care of yourself. This baby needs care. She is precious and has special needs.”
“What does that mean?” asked Rapunzel, still not brave enough to reach out and touch the child even if she was cute. “How is this baby different than any other?”
“She is a magical baby,” Hecuba told her. “Medea is the product of a very powerful witch and warlock. It is too soon to know what powers she holds, but I can tell you that she will grow up very quickly.”
“I was forced to grow up fast as well,” said Rapunzel. “After all, with five brothers teasing me and constantly giving me trouble, I had to learn to survive in all types of situations.”
“Good. Then you’ll be able to tell Medea all about it.”
“Medea,” Rapunzel repeated, reaching out a finger and moving the blanket aside to see the little girl’s face better. She was small and frail but already had a full head of dark hair. With her eyes closed, Medea looked like a little angel. “I can’t talk about my life to a baby who can’t even understand me.”
“Give her a few days,” chuckled Hebuca. “She’ll understand more than you think.”
The child began to stir and fuss, making Rapunzel uncomfortable. “Take the baby,” she told the witch.
With a flick of Hecuba’s wrist, a bottle with a light blue liquid appeared in Rapunzel’s hand.
“What’s this?” Rapunzel jerked back in surprise, surveying the bottle.
“It’s for the baby. Did you think you were going to nurse it yourself?” Hecuba grinned.
“Blue milk?” Rapunzel made a face.
“I told you she is a special child. It’s a magical potion that will give her all she needs to grow quickly.”
“Hecuba, I am not going to take care of any baby. And you never told me who you stole her from in the first place.”
“I didn’t take her from anyone. She’s mine.”
“Yours?” Rapunzel’s eyes lifted to the ancient hag. “Not your baby, personally. You are too old to have birthed a child.”
“She is my daughter, so you’d better take care of her.”
“I don’t understand. How can Medea possibly be your child?”
“I was in my shapeshifting form of a beautiful young woman when I conceived her.”
“When did you have this baby? You didn’t look pregnant to me.”
“I’m a very powerful witch, Rapunzel. I can make my body appear however I want it to look. Besides, the gestation time of a witch such as myself is different from a human.”
“I pity the poor father of this baby,” said Rapunzel, perusing the child. “I bet he doesn’t even know he’s sired the daughter of an old hag.”
“Stop calling me that, or I’ll turn you into a frog just like I did to your brother, Arnon.”
Rapunzel’s head snapped up. “You wouldn’t,” she said, terrified that her beautiful body might be turned into something with warts.
“I won’t, only because I have business to attend to and need you to watch over Medea.”
“Why don’t you have the baby’s father watch her instead of me?”
“He doesn’t know he’s sired another child yet. I haven’t told him.”
“Another? Oh, so the man already has children.”
“Aye,” she said, grinning. “Besides Medea, he has five sons and two daughters – all grown.”
“Nay.” Rapunzel’s heart jumped into her throat. Her eyes shot from Medea’s dark hair back to the witch. “Please, tell me I’m wrong in what I’m thinking.”
Hecuba cackled, showing her broken, rotten teeth. “You are a big sister for the first time, Rapunzel. Aye, Medea is your half-sister. I can’t wait to see the reaction on your father’s face once he finds out. Our time locked away together underground ended up producing a baby. Lucio will be under my control once he realizes he’s sired a child that finally has powers and is not like the rest of his half-breed children. I have a feeling Medea is going to be even more powerful than me once she’s an adult.”
Marco stood at the foot of the tower, shading his eyes from the sun as he called for the girl. “Rapunzel,” he said in a half-whisper. “Rapunzel, can you hear me?”
He looked over his shoulder, wondering if the old witch was going to appear. He’d hidden his horse in the woods and hoped that, since he’d been invisible to her last night, she wouldn’t be able to see him in the daylight either.
“Rapunzel,” he called out a little louder. He heard a noise from the window of the tower, but it wasn’t the girl calling back to him. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was the sound of a crying baby. “Rapunzel?” he said, but the sound of the crying baby was drowning out his voice. She would never hear him now.
Unfastening a rope with an attached grappling hook from his belt, he swung it around and tossed it up to the window. He missed the first and second time and tried once more. Rapunzel stuck her head out the window just as the grappling hook caught on the sill with a loud clink.
“Oh!” she shouted, jumping back with a bundle in her arms that looked to be a baby wrapped up in a blanket. She leaned out the window, stretching her neck to see him.
“Marco?” she asked. “Is that you?” The baby in her arms cried louder.
“Step back, Rapunzel. I could have hit the baby.” Marco donned his leather gloves, held on to the rope and quickly scaled the wall, making his way to the top of the tall tower. When he got there, he flipped his leg over the sill and hoisted himself into the room. “God’s eyes, get away from the window with that baby. It’s not safe.” He jumped down and removed his gloves.
“What did you say?” asked the girl, furrowing her brow. “I can’t hear a thing with this baby crying so loud.”
“I said . . . oh, just give me the child.” Marco scooped up the baby and held it tightly to his chest.
Rapunzel watched in awe as Marco bounced the baby lightly, walking in circles around the room. She’d spent the last hour trying to get Medea to shut up and had been unsuccessful. Now, in a matter of seconds, Marco not only calmed the baby but, by the look of Medea’s yawn, he’d managed to get her to sleep as well.
“That’s better,” he said, smiling down at the child. “She’s cute. Whose baby is this?”
“Not mine, if that’s what you mean.” Rapunzel hurried over to a basin of water to rinse and dry her hands. “She’s the witch’s baby. Hecuba had the nerve to think I’d take care of Medea.”
“Medea?” Marco looked up and smiled. “Is that her name?”
“Aye. Isn’t that the most wretched name you’ve ever heard?”
“Nay, not at all. Actually, I rather like it.” He walked over to a pile of blankets, arranged them, and laid the baby down in the middle. “Tell me, how could an old hag have a baby this beautiful?”
“Beautiful?” That took Rapunzel by surprise. He was talking about the baby. She had a hard time associating anything of Hecuba’s with the word beautiful.
“Aye, don’t you think she’s a cute little thing?”
“I suppose so,” she said, somehow feeling slighted that Marco was paying so much attention to the baby and not enough to her. She was used to having men fall at her feet, waiting in line to adore her. This feeling was foreign, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “I’m sure she gets her looks from my father and not Hecuba.”
“Your father?” Marco glanced up from the baby. “So, this is your . . . baby sister?”
“Half-sister,” she corrected him. Walking over and sitting down, she checked her hair in the large mirror attached to a dressing table. “My mother is dead. She was killed by that evil witch, Hecuba.”
“Oh, I’
m sorry. I had no idea.” Marco came over and stood behind her as she fixed a few loose strands of hair. Then she proceeded to use the little jars of face paint that the witch left her. “Why did she kill your mother?”
“Who knows why Hecuba does things. I hate the old hag and anything that has to do with her.”
The baby fussed in her sleep. Marco looked back at it. “You can’t mean to tell me you are going to take out your hatred of Hecuba on an innocent child?”
Rapunzel let out a sigh, dipping her finger into the jar of purple cream. “I’m not so sure Medea is innocent. After all, she is the product of light and dark magic. That can’t be good.” She smeared the purple on her eyelids, blinking and looking at herself in the mirror.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m making myself beautiful. What do you think? As soon as I’m out of this prison, I am going to get married.”
“Really? Are you betrothed?”
“Not yet.” She wiped her fingers with a cloth and closed up the jar. “But I will be as soon as I get home. I’m going to tell my father to find me a nobleman who is handsome and rich.”
He leaned over her shoulder with his hands on the top of the chair, staring at her in the mirror. “What makes you think any rich, handsome nobleman is going to want you?”
“How dare you talk to me that way.” She jumped up off the chair, her head being yanked backward since he was leaning on her braid. “Ow!” she cried out.
“Sorry about that.” He removed his hand from her hair. “All I meant was that you seem to be quite needy. You appear to be more concerned with your looks than the well-being of a helpless baby.”
Lady in the Tower [Rapunzel] Page 2