Grounded: The Adventures of Rapunzel

by Megan Morrison

  “Daigh!” Mick called, and he waved for the girl with the glossy instrument to join them. She looked like she had come from the same mother and father that he did, so Rapunzel knew she must be his sister.

  “Do all brothers and sisters look so much alike?” she asked, leaning toward Jack.

  “No,” said Jack, “but lots do.”

  Struck by this idea, Rapunzel studied Jack’s face. Perhaps his sister, Tess, had the same black eyes, or the same sharp grin. Imagining this, she remembered with a shock what Jack had told her by the fire, before they’d met Prince Mick. Tess was in grave danger, and Jack had barely six weeks to return to Geguul and save her. Uneasy, she scooted just a bit closer to him. She didn’t want him or his sister to go to Geguul. She didn’t want Witch to go there either.

  Princess Daigh walked lightly to them, her curls bouncing. “Have a seat,” said Prince Mick, giving Trusty a scratch behind the ears. “I found a pair of travelers who might interest you. Can you tell who the girl is, without an introduction?”

  “Really, Mick,” said his sister with a laugh. “You dragged a pair of travelers here as a puzzle for me?” Princess Daigh met Rapunzel’s eyes. “I guess he didn’t ask you if you mind being the subject of this game.”

  Rapunzel shook her head. “I don’t mind.”

  “Well then, that’s all right.” Princess Daigh sat near her brother. Her eyes traveled along Rapunzel’s braid, which hung partly askew from the hair wheel. “This is too easy,” she said, “except that it can’t possibly be — the girl in the tower?”

  Rapunzel’s stomach sank. “We’ve met?” she asked.

  “No,” said Princess Daigh. “I could’ve gotten you down from the tower, though. After Mick tried it, I begged for a chance to visit you. But I’m not allowed until I’m eighteen, and now you’re already rescued, so I’ve lost my chance. Not that I’m sorry to see you free!” she added, brightening. She looked at Jack. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Jack Byre of the Violet Peaks, your highness.”

  Princess Daigh looked delighted. “And so, all the wealthy and well-armed nobles in Tyme were chased away. In the end, it was a boy from the Peaks without a connection in the world — I’m assuming, my apologies if I’ve got it wrong….”

  Jack gave a half smile. “You’ve got it right, your highness.”

  “My point,” said Princess Daigh, “is that you rescued her. What did you use? How did you get her down?”

  “Ubiquitous rope and grappling hook,” said Jack.

  “And with Ubiquitous at that.” Princess Daigh threw back her head and laughed.

  Rapunzel decided it was her turn to speak. “I wasn’t rescued,” she said. “And he didn’t get me down — I climbed down by myself.”

  “Fine with me,” said Princess Daigh. “I’m only too glad to give you all the credit. How do you like the world outside the tower? You’ve traveled a fair bit of it, it looks like.”

  “I like it sometimes,” said Rapunzel honestly. “Sometimes, it’s not very nice.”

  “True enough,” said Princess Daigh. “What brings you to Commonwealth Green?”

  “We’re going to the First Wood,” said Rapunzel, “to find the Woodmother.”

  “The Splinterwood!” Princess Daigh’s eyes widened. “Really? The First Tree, some call her — the ancient tree from which all others grew.”

  “Then you’ve heard of her!” said Rapunzel. “Do you know where she is?”

  Princess Daigh cocked her head to one side. “Do you remember the Bardwyrm ballad from Origins of Tyme class?” she asked her brother. And she recited:

  “The first wood and the last wood

  Memory of Tyme

  Roots that anchor not in soil

  Whom she seeks, she finds.”

  “My dad used to say that,” said Jack slowly. “I’d forgotten it. He sang it when I was a kid. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? We can’t seek the Woodmother — she has to seek us. Glyph said something about that, remember, Rapunzel? She said the Woodmother would sense you.”

  Prince Mick shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re on a hopeless quest,” he said. “I’ve never heard of anyone actually meeting the Splinterwood. The old story’s just an old story.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second,” said Princess Daigh. “The Splinterwood is real.”

  “You don’t know that, Daigh.”

  “I’d bet my royal rear end on it. The myths of the Dissolution are all based on truths. It’s just a matter of knowing which angle to look at. There was a first tree, after all. One of the trees in Tyme had to be first.”

  “Which proves nothing,” said Prince Mick. “That tree might be, and probably is, long dead.”

  “Or she might be alive,” countered Princess Daigh. “And she might hold the memory of Tyme — imagine that. What if there is a tree, alive in the world, that remembers everything?”

  “You’ll have to pardon my sister,” said Prince Mick. “She’s what we call a romantic historian.”

  “Harsh words!” cried Princess Daigh. “If there’s no Splinterwood, then explain all this snow to me, would you? It’s not even winter, and we’re too far south.”

  Jack sat up straight. “Of course!” he cried. “I remember — it’s a legend, isn’t it? The First Wood brings winter with her wherever she goes. That means we must be really close now — closer than we thought.”

  “You speak like an educated man,” said Daigh approvingly to Jack. “I’d heard there were no decent schools in the Peaks. I’m glad to know that’s not the case.”

  “Oh, it’s the case,” said Jack. “There was no school anywhere near my village.”

  “No school at all!” She looked horrified. “What, not even a bad one?”

  “My dad said a bad school’s worse than no school,” said Jack. “He taught me everything himself. How to read and write and do sums, history and geography, all of it.”

  “And how did he come by his education?”

  “He was raised in Crimson. Had to hide in the Peaks because of bad debts. They weren’t his,” Jack added hastily. “He never did anything. But one of the Crimson royals decided to go after him —”

  “Enough said.” Daigh rolled her eyes. “The Crimson Realm is a political nightmare. I’d prefer to live in the Peaks, if it came right down to it.”

  Jack looked as though he doubted this but was too polite to say anything.

  “Well, I hope you find what you’re searching for,” said Prince Mick. “And now, Daigh, if you don’t mind a change of subject?” He paused, and his eyes twinkled. “It’s come to my attention that our young friend Rapunzel has never heard of the Hundred-Year Day.”

  “Sundragons!” Princess Daigh shot to her feet.

  “Now you’re in for it,” said Prince Mick, laughing. “The least I can do is make sure you’re fed while she talks.” He beckoned to his attendants.

  “Have you really never heard?” Princess Daigh fairly flew to Rapunzel’s side, and she perched beside her next to the fire. “I can tell you everything — everything,” she said. “I’ll start with the bit I think you might like best. In New Pink — the Pink Empire, as was — there’s a princess in a tower in an enchanted sleep.”

  “In a tower?” said Rapunzel with interest. “Really? Does a witch take care of her?”

  “No,” said Princess Daigh. “She’s been asleep for nearly ninety-nine years. Her name is Rose.”

  Fascinated, Rapunzel hung on Princess Daigh’s every word as she told the story of an ancient family, great wars, terrible fairies, and a princess who had inherited a legacy of blood.

  They were a long time by the fire, eating a fine supper and listening to Daigh’s tales. Afterward, Rapunzel went to sleep in a gold-and-orange tent, and dreamed, for once, of a tower not her own — a tower of resplendent beauty, trapped behind a wall of briars, where a princess slept unknowing.

  AT dawn, Rapunzel was roused by gentle servants and given a warm washcloth and a hot brea
kfast. When she emerged from the tent, she blinked around at the beauty of the early morning. The snow reflected the sky, making everything glow pale pink. The world was still but for the movement of the icy wind; Rapunzel pulled her cloak tightly around her and put up the hood to ward off the chill. Jack emerged from his tent a moment later, and they made their way across camp to the Ubiquitous sled. The ghostly dogs stood at the ready, stretching and pawing the snow.

  When they reached the sled, Rapunzel and Jack were amazed to find it now full of provisions both for nourishment and comfort — food and drink, lanterns, firewood, soft but heavy blankets, and splendid cushions to sit on. There was even a small wooden trunk with several holes the size of fingertips bored through the wood. Prince Frog fit perfectly inside it, along with a little nest of hair to keep him warm, which Jack cut from the severed lock of Rapunzel’s braid.

  “I hope this makes your quest a little more comfortable!”

  Rapunzel turned to find Princess Daigh striding toward them in the dawn light, the copper threads in her long cloak glinting. She carried a little book covered in leather as white and freckled as her own skin.

  “Oh good,” she said, nodding at the little wooden trunk. “You found it. Did you put your frog inside? My brother bored the holes last night, so the frog will get plenty of air. I hope it’s all right.”

  “It’s perfect,” said Rapunzel. “Thank you both so much.”

  “You’re too generous, your highness,” said Jack, bowing. “How can we repay you?”

  “You can validate my theory.” Princess Daigh grinned. “Visit me in Orange after the Splinterwood finds you, and tell me everything you learn. I’d rather you traveled with us so that I can see it happen, but it’s my theory that she won’t seek you out while you’re in a big group.”

  “Then you really think we’ll find her?” asked Rapunzel.

  “I do.” Princess Daigh flipped open the little leather-bound book. “Rapunzel is spelled Z-E-L, right? Not Z-L-E.”

  Rapunzel peeked into the journal and saw her name scrawled there, along with much else. “That’s right,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

  “Posterity,” said Princess Daigh, snapping the journal shut. “I’ll want to record our meeting for the university archives.” She held out two little sparkly things, one to Rapunzel and the other to Jack. “Take these,” she said. “They mark you as royal messengers. Orange is a friend to nearly every country. Say that you’re in my service and you’ll usually find assistance. Food, shelter, horses — whatever you need.”

  Rapunzel inspected the sparkly thing, which was an orange jewel half the size of her pinky fingernail, attached to a long copper pin. She saw that Jack had already affixed his to his cloak, so she did the same, admiring the way it twinkled when she moved. “It’s so pretty,” she said. “And you’ve given us so much. I wish I had something to give you.”

  Princess Daigh glanced at the long lock of hair that Jack still held in his hand, left over from the frog’s nest. “Well,” she said slowly, “if you’re willing to part with a little of your hair, it would be a tremendous gift to the university museum….” She bit her lip. “Sorry, I realize that’s an intimate request, but —”

  “Take it,” said Rapunzel.

  “Really? The whole thing?”

  Rapunzel nodded, and Princess Daigh collected the ruined lock, coiling it into big loops over her arm to get it out of the snow. “May the sun shine upon you both,” she said. “Farewell, Rapunzel — farewell, Jack!”

  They climbed into the Ubiquitous dogsled, and Jack took the whip into his hand. When he cracked it, the dogs leapt into motion and hurtled northward. As they fled across the snowy plain, the gold-and-orange tents of the Orange camp became smaller and smaller until they vanished altogether into the red glow of sunrise. Rapunzel turned from the view with a great sigh and settled down into the soft blankets that now lined the sled.

  At lunchtime, Jack stopped the dogs. They said little as they ate from the stores that Princess Daigh and Prince Mick had given them.

  “I’m so tired,” said Rapunzel, yawning. “I don’t know why. We haven’t walked all day.”

  “So am I,” said Jack, and he looked it. His face was drawn, and there were circles under his eyes. Rapunzel realized that although she had been traveling for over a fortnight, Jack had been traveling far longer — for almost sixty days now. No wonder he was exhausted.

  “This snow has to mean we’re close to the First Wood,” said Jack, folding up the map. “Maybe we’ll even get lucky and find it today.”

  “I hope so,” said Rapunzel, and she looked at the silvery dogs, who seemed to be enjoying sniffing one another and licking their own fur. “Don’t crash,” she warned them. She very much appreciated not having to walk.

  But although the dogs did carry them for far longer than twenty-four hours, at sunset, the sled crashed with a POP so loud and unexpected that Rapunzel screamed and Jack gave a frightened yelp. The dogs vanished before them, the sled disappeared below, and there was a series of muffled thuds as the two of them, with all their belongings, flew forward onto the soft snow.

  “Prince Frog,” said Rapunzel at once, and she crawled to the wooden trunk. Once she had checked it and found Prince Frog safe, she helped Jack pile their things in the wagon again. But they had too many things now to fit, and items kept sliding off the heap.

  “I hate to leave the cushions,” said Jack, “but we don’t need them if we’re not on the sled.”

  “I’ll carry my braid, and then they’ll fit,” said Rapunzel, taking up the wheel.

  “It’s heavy, though,” said Jack. “You won’t be able to walk far, will you?”

  “I can walk,” said Rapunzel. “Anyway, if we’re riding back on the other sled, we’ll need the cushions then, right?”

  “Well, we won’t need them,” said Jack. “But it’d be nice to have them. If your hair gets too heavy, just say so, all right?”

  “I will,” said Rapunzel. “Let’s go.”

  In the falling twilight, they continued their march toward Independence, and Rapunzel realized that walking in snow was more difficult than other kinds of walking. Even walking uphill was not as hard as this. She had to pick up her feet higher than usual with each step, and she sank into the snow as soon as she put her foot down. It wasn’t even half an hour before she felt ready to sit down and quit. But she had said she could do it, and she didn’t want to take it back, so she made herself keep moving.

  “Wish we had skis,” said Jack, perhaps an hour into their walk. “Or snowshoes. I should have thought of that earlier — oh well.”

  “We can play — the happiness game,” Rapunzel said, panting as she pulled her boot out of the snow. “I’m happy Prince Frog is alive.”

  Jack shrugged one shoulder. “Me too,” he said. “But I don’t want to play this.”

  “Because it makes you think about Tess?”

  He was quiet.

  “She’s going to be all right,” said Rapunzel. “She is, Jack. You found the Red fairies, and they’ll fix it with the giantess. Glyph said she’d help you no matter what, as long as you stay with me and answer my questions — and you have. You’re going to save Tess, I know it.”

  Jack nodded and stopped walking. “Thanks,” he said, his voice low. “I appreciate that. Want to camp here?”

  They found a patch of ground that was higher than the rest and not entirely covered in snow. Rapunzel shrugged off her wheel and loosened her hair from it, then helped Jack clear away rocks to make room for a sleeping area. They made a fire with one of the bundles of wood that had been given to them, but it was still a cold night, and Rapunzel missed the company of the Ubiquitous dogs. There had been something very comforting about them, even if they hadn’t been real.

  “Maybe we can get new dogs,” she said as they set up their beds. “What do you think?”

  “What, for the journey back? We’ve already got some, remember? We bought two Ubiquitous Instant Dogsleds.”


  “No, not Ubiquitous ones. I mean to keep,” said Rapunzel. “Like Prince Mick with Trusty. We could get a friendly dog too, couldn’t we?”

  “To keep where? In your tower?”

  “No, I mean …” Rapunzel stopped. She wasn’t sure what she meant. “I guess you could keep the dog with you,” she said. “While I spend some time with Witch. And then when I come down again, we could take it traveling with us.”

  “Traveling? With us?” Jack, who had been laying out the blankets, now sat back on his heels and looked at her. “Are you saying you want to keep traveling with me even when we’re done finding the Woodmother?”

  Rapunzel looked around, taking in the night. The sky had grown dark, with the pale violet stars scattering light across the blackness. The snow was blue in the darkness, and the wind whistled quietly around them. Firelight played on Jack’s face and made all their belongings glow, and the wood crackled as it burned, giving off a pungent smell that stoked Rapunzel’s appetite and made her want to cook things. She never would have known a night like this in her tower. And it was beautiful.

  “I do want to travel,” she said. “After I go home and make sure Witch is all right, I want to go back to Purl’s house, and then I want to see all the places you’ve told me about — the Tranquil Sea, and the Olive Isles, and everything. We’re invited to Orange too, so we should go there. And I’m supposed to compete in the jacks championship, so I’ll need to go back to Yellow Country next summer, won’t I?”

  Jack said nothing. He only looked at her.