by Anita Valle
In my terror, I don’t know how much time passes. Possibly, a few minutes but it feels like hours. The shaking stops, the rumbling stops. Everything becomes quiet again. But I don’t come out from under my blanket.
Then I hear a low, cutting voice right in front of me. “What did you do?”
I throw the blanket off my head. Godnutter stands in front of me, just behind the footboard. She glows like a giant flame in the dark bedroom. I lift an arm to shield myself, nearly blinded from her brilliance. Her eyes are wide open, bulging with rage.
I cower back on the bed. “I didn’t know!”
“NO!” She points her pipe at me. “You knew exactly what you were doing! You knew her real birthday!”
“Why didn’t she?” I cry.
“Because I didn’t know it!” Godnutter shouts. “I was away when Cinderella gave birth, the stupid fairies had called me in! I wasn’t sure of the exact day. I celebrated Beauty’s birthday on the day I brought her home. Why do you think I was in such a rush to have her crowned? I knew her real birthday was sooner than she thought, I knew there was danger. I just didn’t expect it to come from you!”
“I hated her!” I cry. “She ruined everything!”
“If you weren’t Cinderella’s other child, I would kill you right now for this. She was your sister! My child! I raised her myself!”
“And you did a lousy job! She was a nasty brat!”
“You’re no treat yourself, tootsie,” Godnutter snaps. “Mark my words, you will suffer for this! In every way I can think of. I won’t take your life but I’ll start with…” her eyes fall to my braid lying in loops around me on the bed “…your hair.”
I grab at my braid with both hands. “No!”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is it special to you? Well, that’s what Beauty was to me. My little Beauty, that’s what I always called her. That’s how she got her name. I was proud of her, she reminded me of her mother. And now you’ve curse her! Goodness only knows how long she’s going to lie there-”
As she says these last words, she turns and gestures in the direction of Beauty’s room. Her turned back gives me a moment of opportunity and I take it. My hands still cling to my hair, with a loose section of five or six feet bridged between them. When Godnutter turns her head, I fling the braid up and out, looping it around her neck. She spins back to me but I yank the braid down, hard as I can, throwing all of my weight into it. Godnutter’s head jerks downward and her forehead strikes the footboard with a solid CRACK! She topples out of sight behind the bed.
~*~ 41 ~*~
I wait, breathless, every muscle tensed and ready. I hear nothing. I slide off the bed, towing my hair with me, and rush forward. I feel like I’m going to pass out from fear.
Godnutter is on the floor. She lies on her back, one knee up, wings spread beneath her. Her eyes are shut and a dark lump is forming on her forehead. One arm rests on her chest, the other at her side, and by this arm I see, in the folds of her dress, the pipe lying free.
With shaky breaths, I crouch and pick up the pipe. Is she dead? I can’t tell and don’t want to find out. I leave the room as fast as I can. I have to get away from here in case she wakes up.
I’m in the hall when I see the first two bodies. Lying within a few feet of my door, barely noticeable in the dark - my two servant ladies. On the floor, one slumped over the other. Were they coming to check on me? Why are they both passed out?
I hurry down a set of stairs to the floor below. And I find another one. A servant man, who I’ve noticed goes around the palace at night, dousing all the candles. He’s lying on the floor with the snuffer still in his fingers.
I don’t understand. Ready to panic, I rush upstairs and search out Melodie’s room. I enter without knock-ing, hoping to find her in bed. But she’s not, she’s over by the window… on the floor.
I throw myself down beside her. “Melodie! Melodie!” I shake her shoulder, desperate for any response. But I get nothing. I pull back, feeling like I’m going to throw up. Is she dead? Are they all dead? Did the earthquake kill them? Suddenly, she draws a sigh in her sleep and I gasp with relief. All right. Not dead, at least.
My eyes rise to the window and I gasp again. There are vines, thick, twisted vines pressed against the glass. Only small bits of moonlight glow between them. I rise, knowing this is something new, and step closer. It’s a tangle of dense, ugly vines with hooked thorns. Growing way up here, many floors above the ground.
I wander around the palace to confirm my fears. As I guessed, everyone is unconscious and those horrible vines cover every window. That must have been what caused the crunching and shaking, the vines breaking through the earth and rising to cover the palace. It hap-pened the moment Beauty pricked her finger, so it must be part of the curse. But why vines? What do they do?
And what about me? Why am I the only one awake? Everyone is under the same curse, I’ve figured that out by now. But somehow, I was spared. Oh wait! Ohhh…. I remember Hunter tapping me with his magic wand. Giving me a protection spell that would last a few days. Oh my blood and bones. I guess it worked.
Kay! What happened to Kay? I fly down to the first floor, hoping with all my strength that he’s still awake. I left him on the stairs, outside the palace. Maybe only the people inside were affected.
One of the main doors to the palace stands ajar, as I left it when I rushed in here to curse Beauty. Within seconds, I can see it’s useless to get out. The vines have crawled in the gap and twisted around the door, choking all the space. I push on one of the vines but it’s thicker than my leg and doesn’t budge. “KAY!” I yell through the dense, green jungle. No answer. Am I actually trapped inside the palace? With all of these unconscious people?
I press a hand to my mouth because I think I’m going to scream, and if I do, I know I won’t stop. My breaths rush in and out of my nose. I need to calm down. I need something to calm me. I need to find something that will calm me down.
Instinctively, I go for the only object of comfort I can think of: the organ in my father’s room. As I creep in, I observe the wide window on the opposite wall. Like all the rest, it’s grown over with vines. But my eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness and enough moon-light sneaks in to help me find my way around. I stare at the organ for several minutes, wondering why it doesn’t work. Then I notice it has two broad pedals at the base, instead of the log rods I’m used to.
Oh, wait - I get it! This organ isn’t like the one in my tower, which has its wind supplied through valves in the wall. Those two pedals are the bellows, I’ll have to pump the air into it as I play. I haven’t tried this before but I’ve read about it. Shouldn’t be too hard.
I sit on the stool and lay Godnutter’s pipe in my lap. My hands find their positions as naturally as birds returning to their nests. I pump the pedals a few times to start the air flowing and then I press the keys with my fingers. The organ groans into life, the sound swell-ing through the room.
I play a harsh, angry piece I learned earlier this year. It’s complicated and I have to concentrate as the notes tumble up and down. My heart begins to settle and my thoughts stop crashing around. I know it’s crazy to be playing the organ right now but I’ve missed it so much. It’s the only thing keeping me from total panic.
I play maybe fifteen minutes without stopping. And then pause to rest my arms. My head feels quieter. All right, calmly now. I need to think of a way to get out of here. Maybe I can find a large knife in the kitchen and cut through the vines.
I hear the floor creak behind me and the soft whine of hinges. I spin around on the stool. The door to this room is opening, though I can’t see what’s behind it. I stiffen and seize the pipe, thinking it’s Godnutter. My nose fills with a thick, musky smell and I hear a low growl that freezes my blood. In the darkness, a massive, black shape moves into the room. Taller than me, sort of hunched, and covered in fur.
The Beast has found me.
I jump up from the stool, gasping. The black form shift
s and I catch the shimmer of two dark eyes upon me. With a high shriek, I dart to the other side of the room, where the window is. I hear a rough snort and the thump of heavy paws. I feel weight land behind me, a swipe across my back, and suddenly I’m burning with horrible pain. Screaming, I leap onto the window ledge, not knowing where else to go, oddly aware that I feel many pounds lighter. I throw myself against the glass and scream again. Claws like knives sink into my back, a growl thunders inside my head, and I’m crushed on the glass beneath the warm, hairy mass if its body.
And then the glass bursts.
I feel cool air first. The sensation of falling. And then I hit the vines, losing the air from my lungs, getting smacked and struck as I topple my way down. Flares of pain light up in my arms and legs as the thorns slice me open and then – MY EYES! MY EYES ARE ON FIRE! I scream like I’ve never screamed before. And that’s all I remember.
~*~ 42 ~*~
I don’t wake up until daylight. And I’m only aware of it by the glow on my eyelids. When I try to open them, they burn like fire and I scream. My eyes! What happened to my eyes? Did I lose them? With shaking hands, I gently touch the upper lids. No, I feel the bulge of each eyeball, I still have them. They must be badly scratched.
I can’t open them. After a few minutes, I roll onto my knees. Whimpering, I reach behind to check my lower back. It’s sticky, indicating blood, and too raw to touch. Open wounds, I think. Four slashes across my back.
And then something brushes my elbow - the rough ends of my hair. I sweep it to the front of my shoulder, grip it and slide my hand down. Just above my waist, my hand falls into empty air.
It’s gone. My beautiful hair that took a lifetime to grow has been cut off. It must’ve happened when the Beast sliced at my back. Where is the Beast? I don’t think it fell with me. Why didn’t it come down here and finish me off? I’m starting to wish it had.
With my eyes still shut, I begin to crawl. And immediately bump my head on those horrible vines. What on earth are they for? I reach out with one hand and feel around until I find a space. I manage to squeeze through but my back is searing with pain and I gain new scratches from the thorns.
I seem to be in a forest of vines, with little room to wriggle between them. But slowly, slowly, I grope my way through. At one point, my hand comes down on an object and with a gasp, I realize I’ve found Godnutter’s pipe. I didn’t know it fell with me. I stuff it inside my dress and keep crawling.
It feels like hours before I put out my hand and don’t find any vines. I must be past them. I try to stand but my splitting back won’t let me. I try to open my eyes, but it’s like hot blades jabbing into them. The worst part is that for the brief second they’re open, I can’t see anything. Nothing but white.
So I crawl, without any idea where I’m going. It’s more horrible than you can imagine. My nose tells me I’m in the rose garden. I crawl until I can’t smell the blossoms anymore. That must mean I’m out of it. I feel soft dirt beneath my hands and weeds still mushy from melted snow. And then gravel. It pokes into my knees but I can’t stand up. I grit my teeth and just try to get across it. And then my hand bumps into something solid and warm.
I gasp. My hand seizes the thing and gropes around to understand. It’s a leg! As I search for more, I find an arm and a chest, propped up against the edges of stairs. I gasp again. Is this Kay? My hands slide over his face. A squarish jaw. Short hair, a bit course. Is it him? I lean into his chest and sniff deeply. Yes, it’s Kay. Under the curse, like everyone else.
I crouch over him and take into my hands his face that I cannot see. For several minutes, I sob over him and my tears fall freely. I’m so sorry, Kay! I didn’t know this would happen! I just wanted you to be my friend. And now I’ve lost you. The wetness of my tears soothes my eyes a little but does nothing to cure my injury. They don’t work on me, they’ve never worked on me.
I can’t bear it. I crawl away from him. The sharp gravel pierces my knees and I force myself, gasping, into a partial stand. Bent like an old woman, I hobble away from the palace, one hand stretched out to feel my way.
~*~ 43 ~*~
I think night has fallen. It’s hard to tell. I’ve been walking – well, hobbling – for a long time. I know I’m in The Wood, I’ve bumped into enough trees. I carry on, with a vague idea of going back to Snowy. But I don’t know which way. About two hours ago, I tripped over another unconscious person. So, the curse has struck even those outside the palace. Does that mean Snowy too? It probably does.
Here and there, I try to use the pipe. When I flick it with my wrist, it gives a shudder and something bursts from the other end. Moments later, I smell a tree burning. That seems to be all I can do but it’s a start. And I still have the blue roses in the bag on my wrist. I didn’t lose them in the fall. Maybe if I eat them, I’ll forget what happened to me.
I can’t… see. I’m blind. All my life, I have hated blindness, feared it more than anything. All my life, I just wanted to escape my tower and see the world. There are so many things I have never seen. And now I never will.
I have tried, several times, to open my eyes. It makes me squeal every time. Little by little, I’m able to assess my vision. It’s like trying to look through a window that’s been frosted over with snow. A few patches of color get through but it’s all very pale and shapeless. The loss of my sight – and my hair – is too much for me. I understand, now, why Snowy threw herself from that tower.
My nose picks up a familiar smell. Ah… I’m close to the cottage where Barker lives. Wood smoke and stewed beef. I trace the smell until my feet find the flagstones leading up to the door. It opens when I push it. And immediately, the musky smell of the Beast fills my head.
My stomach constricts but I understand now. This is where they were keeping it. I heard its footsteps above me the day I was here. Barker must have been told to guard it. Where is he? Probably passed out somewhere, either inside or out back, where my poor mother lies in her box. I’ll never see her again, either.
Lunilla let the Beast out, I’m sure of it. I think that’s what she did yesterday. Came here, released the Beast, then fled to a far-off place with her husband and child, trusting the Beast to kill us all. Did she think it would kill Godnutter as well? That seems a stretch. Although, I’ve discovered a fairy can be hurt.
The Beast was there last night when I spoke to Kay in the garden. I smelled it but didn’t realize. It must’ve gotten into the palace when everyone – guards and all – fell under the curse. Just before the vines began to grow. And then I stupidly played the organ and led it right to me. That fact that it hasn’t chased me out here means – I think – that it’s still inside the palace. Could it not get past the vines? Or are there enough sleeping bodies lying around that it didn’t need me as its next meal?
I doubt it’s coming back, now that it has a whole palace to run around in. But I shudder to think of those people – and my two servant ladies – lying unprotected. Even so, I have to stay here. I’m lucky I found this place at all, I could’ve wandered until I starved to death. I’m starving already but there must be food here. Probably nothing fancy. I would kill for a loaf of gingerbread.
I hobble into the cottage, groping my way along the walls. My foot bumps something hard and I feel out the shape of a rocking chair. I lower myself in, moaning and whimpering at the pain in my back. A tear drops along the side of my nose.
I catch the tear with my finger. Then I lift the pipe with my other hand. Carefully, I scrape my forefinger across the edge of the bowl, until I feel fairly certain the tear has fallen inside it. I thought about this a short while ago, adding my magic to Godnutter’s. Maybe then, the pipe will work better for me.
A brush of air hits my face – I left the front door open. I can feel the direction it came from. I point the pipe that way, wish for the door to close, and give a flick of my wrist. I feel a burst of energy from the tip of the pipe. Two seconds later, I hear the door snap shut.
I smile though I
don’t feel a drop of happiness. All the kingdom sleeps, except me. But the curse won’t last forever, Hunter said so. I’ll use this time to learn magic, to make myself powerful. So powerful, they will fear me even more than they feared Snowy. I don’t have to be the queen or live at the palace. This cottage is so much smaller and simpler, better for me in my new condition. I’ll find a way to protect the cottage, make it so fearful, no one will ever come near it.
I may be blind but I found my magic. No longer am I the innocent child, trapped inside my tower. No longer am I the lonely girl, desperate to find a friend. No longer am I the pathetic princess, unwanted as the next queen. Oh no. Those silly girls are dead. I know who I am now.
I am the Witch of The Wood.
Coming Next:
Bad Beauty
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About the Author
I always thought the original story of Rapunzel started well and ended strangely. I loved the idea of the tower and the long hair and the prince climbing up to visit her. But then the witch cuts off Rapunzel’s hair and banishes her to the desert, and the heartbroken prince throws himself from the tower and gets blinded by thorns. He wanders around, sad and alone, for a few years until Rapunzel finds him and cures him by crying magic tears into his eyes. Um, what? You never said she had magic tears! Not once in the whole story!
I liked the idea of making Rapunzel’s tears more of a thing. It showed she had magic within her, which was handy for this series in which they all need a little bit of it. I also really enjoyed bringing back Lunilla as the new queen! She’s such a loud character. The challenge of this book was to blend together the stories of Rapunzel, Snow White, and poor Cinderella still asleep in her box. I’m kind of like Godnutter (minus the pipe). I love my poor, broken Cindy.