Grounded: The Adventures of Rapunzel

by Megan Morrison

  “How did you kill them — the old chieftain and chieftainess?”

  “I sent their carriage over the edge of a deep quarry.”

  “Who else was hurt?”

  “The driver was killed. The chieftain’s son was also with them, and the boy’s legs were ruined. They had to be cut off.”

  Rapunzel gasped, horrified, and Witch’s wrinkled mouth grew more wizened as she spoke.

  “Rapunzel, this won’t work,” she said. “No matter what I tell you, there is too much you haven’t seen and felt. I cannot destroy your innocence by talking.”

  Rapunzel ignored her. “Who else did you kill?”

  “Warriors of the Redlands.”

  “Why?”

  “I already told you why. To stop Chieftain Fleet from persuading you to trust him. Unlike your other visitors, I believe the chieftain understood that I posed a great threat to his nation. He was so persistent. The Red fairies must have warned him that if he did not separate you from me, then his fortress would be vulnerable. So he acted, and I killed his warriors to frighten him into a full retreat. His conscience will not let him send more of his people to reckon with me.”

  Rapunzel’s stomach hurt. But as Witch spoke of the terrible things she had done, her skin grew more translucent, and her hair grew visibly thinner. Chunks of it fell out upon her shoulders.

  Rapunzel continued the assault.

  “What about Amelia?”

  “I didn’t kill Amelia,” said Witch instantly. “That was an accident.”

  “Who else have you killed, then?”

  “Rapunzel, you may as well relent. This interrogation will not serve you.”

  “Who else?”

  “I haven’t killed anyone else.”

  “But I thought you were old. How old are you really?”

  “I am one hundred and seventy-one.”

  “Didn’t you have to eat a lot of babies to get that old? Aren’t the babies all dead?”

  “I have never,” said Witch, her voice so strong that it was almost youthful again, “ever eaten anyone. How absolutely vile.”

  “But I thought that witches —”

  “Inelegant witches. Beastly witches.” Witch looked proud. “I have imagination. I found methods no other witch had discovered. I had regular sources of innocence at every time, except during the life of Phillip’s wife. And she lived a long life.” Witch’s expression turned sour. “I hid myself in the caves of Violet, and I aged.”

  “And then what?”

  “When I was sixty-seven years old, that miserable woman finally died,” said Witch. “I was free to explore my power. I had had a great deal of time to plan. I went to Crimson, which was being reclaimed by the Pink Empire. The entire Crimson Realm was in chaos — armies were slaughtered, children were orphaned. Some of those children were injured and sick. I opened a home for those who were mortally afflicted, and I cared for them as they died.”

  Rapunzel was aghast. “You used dying children to get power?”

  “Yes. Would you rather I had eaten them?”

  “No, but —”

  “But? These children were orphans of war, starving and thirsty and suffering. I gave them peace. They died in comfort, in security. None of them was the worse for helping me.”

  “Is that where you got Amelia? You rescued her from soldiers.”

  Witch rubbed her head. “The Woodmother was generous with details,” she said. “Yes, Amelia lived in the sick house with the other children. Unlike the others, she made a full recovery. She shouldn’t have. She was close to death. But I nursed her with … particular care, perhaps. When she returned to health, I asked her if she wanted to come to live with me in a tower, high up and far away from everything terrible, and have every lovely thing that she could think of. She said yes. So I built a tower for her, and we went to it.”

  “What happened then?”

  “You already know.”

  “Describe it. Tell me everything you remember.”

  Witch closed her eyes with a pained look, as though she had a strong headache. And then she spoke about the two years she had spent with Amelia in another tower, in the Violet Peaks, caring for her and trying to cultivate what remained of her innocence.

  “It was during this time that I learned how powerful I might become with a child who truly belonged to me. Amelia was grateful to me for saving her, and she loved the way I spoiled her. But her first love was for the parents she remembered. She was never fully mine.

  “Still, with her as my constant companion, I was strengthened. Even though she was not a pure innocent by any means, as she attached herself to me, I became more powerful than I had yet been. How much stronger I would be, I realized, if I could only convince her to forget the evils she had experienced. Then she would be not only innocent, but able to bond with me fully — she would remember no one else — and she would no longer feel trapped. I knew then that I had found the perfect method, not only for sustaining my power but for discovering its deepest potential.”

  “Did you like Amelia?” Rapunzel asked grimly. “As a person?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “She had spirit. She had the intelligence of a child of the streets, yet a gentleness, even after all she had seen and suffered.”

  “But you were willing to get rid of her mind to make yourself more powerful.”

  “I thought Amelia would want to forget,” said Witch. “She had terrible memories. Monstrous things had happened in her life, atrocities that you cannot imagine. It seemed a solution that allowed us both to thrive. But I was wrong.”

  “She died rather than give her memories to you.”

  “She didn’t mean to die.”

  “And were you sorry? Do you still think of her?”

  “Yes.” Witch leaned back in the rocking chair. She closed her eyes and yawned, again revealing her rotten teeth. A few were now missing. “I’m tired,” she said.

  “Stay awake,” said Rapunzel, who herself was weary. But there was no time for sleep now. They could sleep after Witch had erased her memories. She planted herself in front of Witch and spoke loudly. “How many other children were there?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There was Justice, and then Amelia. After Amelia, how many more children did you put in towers?”

  “Just you.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I cannot lie. After Amelia, there was only one tower.”

  “What did you do with all those years between her and me?”

  “I moved from place to place, opening homes for children of war. Until recently, there was no shortage of war in Tyme. But the innocence I gained from them was impure. Those children had seen too much violence and felt too much grief and pain to be of significant use to me from a magical perspective.”

  “So what did you do? How did you get me?”

  “Don’t you know the tale?”

  “You tell it.”

  Witch did so as she rocked. “Your mother was pregnant with you,” she said. “Very pregnant, and not in good condition — she could barely sit up. Your parents had just moved down to Yellow Country from Green. It was a long journey that a woman in late pregnancy should never have undertaken. She arrived weak and feverish and could not leave her bed — which made my part easy. Your father felt responsible for your mother’s discomfort. I knew he would want to satisfy her every wish. I waited until I heard her say that she craved rampion, and then I moved that plant up onto the little hill at the back of my garden, where your father would see it over the top of the fence.”

  “And then he stole it.”

  Witch nodded. “When I caught him, I offered him a choice. He could die, or he could give you to me.”

  Rapunzel knew what her father had chosen. “And he didn’t tell my mother?”

  “No.” Witch opened her eyes. “Remoulade was a coward. I knew it the moment I met him. The perfect tenant for my bait house.”

  “Bait hous
e?”

  “After Amelia, I built houses in several places and rented them only to couples who were pregnant. I kept the rent low to attract them. And then I tempted them with whatever I thought might cause them to steal from me, to get them into a bargain.”

  “To get an infant?”

  “To get an infant. It could not be a kidnapping — I had made that mistake. It would have to be a solid bargain. It took great patience, but in the end, it paid off. I got you.”

  “And what happens when I die?”

  “I will get another infant.”

  “Do you have bait houses right now, in case I die or run away?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is anybody living in them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pregnant women?” Rapunzel asked shrilly. “Mothers with children inside them? Didn’t my mother scream when you took me away from her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t you feel sorry?”

  “No.”

  “Why? How could you do it? She looked so happy in the picture where I was inside her — she wanted me, Witch. Why didn’t you let her keep me?”

  “I needed you. And Natalie was a fool — you were better off with me.”

  “But my mother would have let me run outside, and learn to swim, and read real books, and have a pet frog, and meet new people, and so many other things that you’ve never let me do.”

  Witch closed her eyes again. She rocked in the chair.

  “She was going to name me Charlotte,” said Rapunzel. “Did you know that?”

  Witch snorted. “No.”

  “Your mother named you Envearia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did she name you that?”

  “Because it was her name.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me to call you Envearia?”

  “I never liked my mother’s name,” said Witch. “I didn’t care to hear it anymore.”

  “Then why not have me call you Mother? Why tell me to call you Witch?”

  “Because that is what I am.”

  Rapunzel stopped. Every answer Witch gave her led to more questions she had not known existed. She studied Witch, who now looked dangerously frail in her chair by the dying blue fire. The light made shadows in her gash-like wrinkles and illuminated the deep circles beneath her sunken eyes and cheeks. Bits of hair drifted from her head like white feathers.

  The bargain was killing her.

  Rapunzel looked into the fire. It was one thing to know that Witch ought to die, to feel that it was only fair to kill her. Taking memories, Rapunzel thought, was a kind of killing too. But to bring death down on Witch deliberately …

  She glanced back at Witch’s ruined face again, then closed her eyes and tried to call to mind the Witch she remembered, the Witch she had left behind, whom she had so completely trusted, and who had betrayed her. She pictured their last night together in this tower, the night before her birthday. Witch’s face swam into view in Rapunzel’s memory. Her hazel eyes sparkled, her hair fell in lovely dark waves, her cheeks glowed as she told Rapunzel what a wonderful present she was going to give her — not a toy, she had said, and ever so much better than a snack….

  “You were going to give me something wonderful for my birthday,” Rapunzel said abruptly. “You said it was more wonderful than I could guess. What was it?”

  Witch stopped rocking and gazed up at her. “The Redlands,” she said.

  Rapunzel’s mouth dropped open. “The Redlands? The whole Redlands?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I don’t understand. How?”

  “I planned to seize the Fortress of Bole.” Witch closed one bony fist as though crushing something within it. “What you don’t realize, Rapunzel, is that until you ran away, I was the most powerful witch who ever lived. No witch in history has ever had a source of innocence like you, constant and perfect. You allowed my power to grow unmitigated. Chieftain Fleet has done everything he can to fortify his position, but it would not have been enough to keep me from getting through. I was unstoppable.”

  “Then why hadn’t you already seized the fortress?”

  “Glyph.”

  “So you poisoned her with your roses,” said Rapunzel, remembering how they had cracked through the very sky of the fairy glade, darkening that world.

  “She had to be dealt with, and so did her clan. Even I could not easily wipe out an entire race of fairies. I have been working to crush the Red Glade for over a decade.”

  “Is that what you were doing whenever you weren’t with me?”

  “Mostly.”

  “And then Glyph came here to ask for my help, but she broke her wing. Why didn’t she come before? If you were hurting them for so long, why didn’t she visit me earlier?”

  “For a long time, the Red fairies did not know what I was doing. When they discovered it, they thought that they could fight me without assistance. By the time they realized they were wrong, their magic had been all but strangled, while, thanks to you, my powers had grown to unprecedented heights. I buried their glade, and there was nothing they could do.”

  “Why didn’t they move somewhere else?”

  “They abide near the Fortress of Bole. They have a duty to guard it.”

  It made sense now that Rune had been desperate to protect his mate, and his clan, and their home. Rapunzel understood why the fairies hated her.

  “Glyph fought me until her own powers were nearly decimated,” Witch continued. “She came to this tower out of desperation and threw herself away in the attempt, clearing the road for me at last. I was ready to take the fortress that night. But before I could begin, you climbed down from the tower, and with your departure, my power ebbed. Not completely, but enough. I was forced to wait.”

  “Then Glyph didn’t throw herself away,” Rapunzel said. “Her plan worked. I left the tower. I found the Woodmother, and she showed me the truth about you. Everyone else tried to tell me — they tried and tried, but I wouldn’t listen. Glyph knew I wouldn’t. She knew I had to see it for myself, so she made me go with Jack to the First Wood, and I’m glad she did.”

  Witch did not comment.

  “Are the Red fairies powerful again, now that you’re weak?”

  “No,” said Witch. “It will be a long time before they fully recover.”

  “So once you’ve taken my memories, you’ll attack them again?”

  “I did not toil for so long to be defeated on the doorstep of success.”

  Rapunzel wished that she had thought to include something about the safety of the Red fairies in her bargain, but it was too late. The Redlands would be seized. The Red fairies would be defeated. Glyph would probably be killed. And it was Rapunzel’s fault, for coming back to the tower.

  She put her head in her hands.

  She was a fool.

  “Why do you even want the Redlands?” she asked, her voice muffled. “Is it really a gift for me? Am I going to be allowed to run around outside?”

  “No.”

  “So it’s for you. What are you going to do with it?”

  “I want the ground on which the Fortress of Bole is built.”

  “Why?”

  “I cannot fully explain. There is some power hidden beneath the castle there. I don’t pretend to understand it yet, but I will discover what it is, and I will use it.”

  “But Witch” — Rapunzel lifted her head, bewildered — “why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want power at all? What do you do with it?”

  “I keep myself alive,” said Witch. “Beyond that, I do whatever I wish. Power is power. Without power, others make your choices for you. With power, your life is your own. I will not suffer myself to be controlled by anyone. Never again.”

  Rapunzel thought of the disturbing way Witch had sat up when her mother had told her to. Like she’d been pulled by strings. Her life hadn’t been her own then — and it wasn’t now either. Not really.

  “You’re sti
ll controlled,” Rapunzel said. “The White Fairy gets you when you die.”

  Witch shrank back. “Then I will not die,” she said, but her eyes darted toward the ceiling.

  “What if I went to Geguul and White-hatched?” Rapunzel asked. “I bet I could get out of this bargain if I did. I bet the White Fairy could help me. How do I get there?”

  Witch looked petrified. “Rapunzel, listen to me.” She reached out and gripped Rapunzel’s wrist. “Don’t go to Geguul. I forbid it.”

  “You sound like your mother,” said Rapunzel, and Witch snatched her hand away. Rapunzel rubbed her wrist where Witch’s fingers had dug into it.

  “I can tell you how to go to the White,” Witch said, trembling. “But Rapunzel, if you trade your mortality to her, you cannot ever take it back.”

  “Do you want to take it back?”

  Witch keened softly and leaned over her knees, hiding her face in her thin, wrinkled hands. Rapunzel crouched before her chair.

  “Witch? If you could be mortal again, would you?”

  Witch nodded.

  “Are you afraid of Geguul?”

  “Yes.” The word was barely a whisper.

  The sunlight in the tower was the rich orange of sunset. It fell in long, broad beams through the window and the balcony doors, lighting the fleecy carpets beneath Rapunzel’s feet as she regarded Witch. For the first time since they had arrived at the tower, she felt compassion. Witch had White-hatched to punish Phillip, and now she was trapped. She didn’t want to belong to Geguul. Just like Jack’s giantess. Rapunzel wondered how many witches felt the same.

  The wind rustled in the woods. It passed through the tower windows, lifted the curtains, and blew across the ceiling garden. No petals fell. Rapunzel looked up and realized that there were no roses left.

  The fire had gone out too.

  “Light,” Rapunzel said, knowing that it wouldn’t. The fireplace stayed dark. Witch’s powers were so depleted that she could not even make a simple flame. “Is there any wood here?” she asked. “I know how to make a fire. It’ll be dark soon; we should have one.”

  “No, there isn’t any wood.”

  “There’s paper, though, and there’s my furniture.”