“Just over a fortnight?” she gasped. “How old will the child be by then?”
“Every day Medea will get a year older until she reaches the age of eighteen.”
“How is that possible?” asked Rapunzel. “Is it because of that potion you give her?”
“Nay. The potion is just to give her the strength she needs while growing so quickly. She is the product of powerful magic and, as I’ve told you, special. I knew as soon as she was conceived she was going to be very powerful in more ways than one. This quick progression of growth only happens to one in a million offspring of powerful witches and warlocks.”
“You were trapped with my father for over a year,” said Rapunzel. “So, are you saying Medea took over a year to be born, and now she’s making up for it?”
“Get up and get dressed, Rapunzel,” said Hecuba. “And don’t even think of trying to escape again. Medea will tell me if you try to deceive me. She will call me, and I will hear and be back here before your feet hit the ground. Do you understand?”
“I hardly think a one-year-old girl is going to tell you anything,” Rapunzel scoffed.
“I will, Mommy.”
Rapunzel almost fell over when the little girl started talking.
“That’s a good girl,” said Hecuba, patting Medea on the head. Then she cackled like an old hen and disappeared, surrounded by a green fog.
Rapunzel’s heart thumped wildly in her chest. Dressed only in her shift, she backed up against the wall as the little girl moved toward her.
“Get away,” she said, holding out her hand. Fear coursed through her body. She knew this was magic, but it was nothing she was used to at all. Her father, Lucio, was a warlock but kept it a secret from her and her siblings for many years.
“Rapunzel,” the little girl said, grinning.
“I don’t like you,” Rapunzel admitted, scared out of her mind. But at the same time, she was determined not to let a child get the best of her.
“Rapunzel,” came a voice from outside. Rapunzel rushed across the room and stuck her head out the window. Marco stood there with his hands to his mouth, calling for her. “Rapunzel, let down your hair.”
“What?” she asked, thinking she’d heard him wrong.
“I don’t see my rope and grappling hook.”
“The witch must have taken them,” she called back.
“Is Hecuba there now?”
“Nay. She just left. Hold on and I’ll get my –”
She turned around to see the toddler gripping the end of the severed braid that Rapunzel had used to escape the tower the first time. Her eyes interlocked with Medea’s. What was she doing? She was about to demand the little girl hand it to her when Medea reached up and gave it to her. Then her lips turned up into a smile.
“Thank you,” said Rapunzel, hurrying over and tying one end to the bedpost. She hurried across the room and threw the braid out the window. “Can you reach it?” she asked.
“Nay,” Marco called back. He jumped and tried to reach it, but it was too short.
“Get on your horse,” she told him. “Try that.”
“Good idea.”
While he went for his horse, Rapunzel ran to the other side of the room and donned her gown. When she got back to the window, Marco was on his horse. But he still couldn’t reach the end of the braid.
“Let me try standing on the horse’s back instead of sitting,” he suggested.
“Be careful,” she called down to him, worried for his safety. She wasn’t at all sure he wasn’t injured from Hecuba’s blast.
“I still can’t reach it,” he called out to her.
Rapunzel wrung her hands, wanting more than anything to talk to Marco right now. She missed him. She needed to be with someone other than her freak of a sister who was scaring the wits out of her. “I’ll try to find something else,” she called out. Turning on her heel, she stopped in her tracks when she saw Medea putting her hands on the braid.
“Let go of that,” she scolded. She reached for the girl. When she did, Medea ran her hands along the braid, making it longer.
“That’s good,” she heard Marco shout. It was only a minute before Marco pulled himself in through the open window and fell to the floor.
“Good morning,” said Marco, getting to his knees.
“Marco!” cried out Medea, rushing across the room and throwing herself against him. They both went crashing to the floor.
“And who have we got here?” asked Marco, laughing. He got up, picking up the little girl and cradling her in his arms.
“That’s my half-sister, Medea,” said Rapunzel. She was expecting Marco to throw the child down and back away, reacting the same way she had when she first saw her half-sister this morning.
“It is?” He looked at her closer and smiled. “My, you have grown,” he said with a chuckle.
Medea laughed and reached up and pulled at his hair.
“Ow!” he said, closing his eyes and making a face. “You are so strong that you are going to pull the hair right out of my head if you don’t stop that.”
Medea giggled, sounding like a normal child. Rapunzel shook her head, trying to grasp the fact that Medea’s appearance didn’t seem to bother Marco at all.
“Doesn’t it surprise you that Medea aged an entire year overnight?” asked Rapunzel.
“Well, she is the child of a very powerful witch. Nothing surprises me where magic is concerned.” He bounced Medea in his arms, getting a squeal of delight from the child in return.
Medea reached out and ran her hand over the ring on Marco’s finger that looked like the eye of a dragon. Sparks flew, and a buzzing noise filled the air. Medea pulled back her hand and started to cry.
“There, there, now,” said Marco, trying to calm her. “You’re not hurt, are you?” He took the girl’s hand in his and kissed it. Immediately, she stopped crying. He put her down on the ground.
“Medea, go drink the potion your mother left you,” Rapunzel told her. “I need to talk to Marco.”
“No!” Medea crossed her arms over her chest and pouted.
“Now, is that any way to talk to your big sister?” asked Marco, lowering his head and raising his eyebrows.
“Aye.”
“What? Medea that is not nice” scolded Marco. “You should be happy to have a sister. Did Rapunzel tell you that you have another sister as well as five brothers?”
Medea seemed interested in what he had to say.
“I am an only child,” he told her. “I only wish I would have had siblings growing up. Now, tell Rapunzel you are sorry and try to be nicer to her.”
“Sorry,” said Medea.
“Good. Now go drink your potion so I can talk to your big sister.”
Smiling, the little girl held on to things and made her way to the table to get her cup. As soon as she left, Rapunzel pulled Marco into the corner to talk to him privately.
“You’ve got to get me out of here and away from this demon child,” she whispered.
“Demon child?” He looked over at Medea, smiling and waggling his fingers in the air. Medea giggled.
Rapunzel grabbed his hand and pulled it down. “What is the matter with you? Can’t you see she is full of dark magic?”
“I don’t know about that. I think she is kind of cute.”
“Why are you even here?” she asked. “I thought after what Hecuba did to you yesterday, you’d be smart enough not to risk your life by coming back for more.”
“Excuse me, but unless you missed it, I was able to fend off Hecuba’s first blow by powers of my own.”
“You fool, that was Medea who did that, not you.”
“It was?” He frowned, looking very disappointed. “I thought it had something to do with the ring.” He held up his hand to admire the stone. “I wonder why it sparked when Medea touched it?”
“We can figure all that out later. Right now, I need you to go to Slapton and get word to my brothers and father about what is going on here. Can
you do that?”
“I suppose so. However, I need to make a stop along the way to check on my father.”
“Marco, please. This is important.”
“My father has been alone for days now. He is unable to hunt for himself since he is lame and can barely walk. I need to make sure he’s eaten, or he might die.”
“Then hurry,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Medea. “I don’t want to be alone with the child any longer than I have to. She’s evil, I tell you. Mayhap even more so than Hecuba.”
“Nay, you’re wrong.”
“Medea doesn’t like me.”
“Then you need to be a little nicer to her and mayhap she will.”
“How am I going to do that?”
“I don’t know. Try treating her like you would a full-fledged sister. Mayhap, show her what you do. Teach her how to be a lady.”
Rapunzel sighed and shook her head in frustration. “I’m trapped in a tower with hair that keeps me from moving across the room without difficulty. What am I supposed to teach her?”
“Since you know all about hair, teach her how to braid her hair or something. I don’t know. Just be nice to her. Do you think you can do that?”
Rapunzel crossed her arms over her chest, surveying Medea at the table as the girl drank from her cup. She didn’t seem nearly as threatening anymore. “I suppose so. But please, Marco, hurry.”
“I will,” he said, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. “I will hurry because I can’t stand to be without your kisses for very long.” He kissed her hard and deep as if he were claiming her, and she liked it. Then, to her surprise, his tongue slipped between her lips and entered her mouth. That spiral of heat rose from her core again, making her wonder what it would be like to have Marco as a lover. His hands skimmed over her shoulders and down her arms, brushing against the swells of her breasts. Her breathing deepened, and her eyes fluttered closed for a second. When she opened them, she spotted Medea across the room staring right through her. The heat within her instantly turned cold.
“You’d better go,” she told Marco, motioning to the child with a slight nod.
“How careless of me,” said Marco. “I didn’t mean to do that in front of her.” He turned and looked at the girl. “Goodbye, Medea. Be good for your sister, Rapunzel. Try to be nice to her, will you?”
Medea smiled and nodded before going back to drinking the blue liquid from the cup.
As Rapunzel watched Marco lower his body out the window and ride away on his horse, her heart ached. Her hair tugged at her, keeping her from going closer to the window. She wanted nothing more than to escape this prison and get back to her family where she belonged.
Medea made a small noise from the other side of the room. Rapunzel turned around to see her waddling over toward the fire burning in the hearth.
“Nay!” she said, shooting across the room and grabbing the little girl just before she put her hand into the fire. “That’s hot,” Rapunzel scolded.
Medea looked up at her, seeming frightened. She whimpered and clung to Rapunzel for protection. Rapunzel liked the feeling of it. She’d never been a big sister before, and neither had anyone ever needed her until now.
“Don’t touch the fire or you will be burned,” she explained. Thinking of what Marco had told her to do, she decided to give it a try. “Why don’t we brush your hair?” she asked, gaining a smile from the girl. She sat down and pulled Medea up onto her lap.
Perhaps if she tried harder, Medea would like her as much as she did Marco. After all, as trapped as she was in this tower, Rapunzel had someone with her now. That is, someone with the same blood. Medea was her little sister, like it or not. Rapunzel would need to work with this thought, trying to forget that the child had Hecuba’s blood running through her as well.
Just like Marco told her, she needed to teach Medea things – things she needed to learn from an older sister. Perhaps she shouldn’t feel so alone locked in this tower anymore. After all, as hard as it was for her to accept it, Medea was family.
Chapter 5
Marco rode like the wind, making his way back to the hovel he shared with his father that was their home. He couldn’t get his mind off of Rapunzel and the kisses they’d shared. She had asked him several times now to find and tell her family where the witch was keeping her captive. He could deny her no longer. No matter what it took, he would save Rapunzel from Hecuba’s wicked curse.
By the time he arrived home, it was already nightfall. The tower was only an hour’s ride from his home just outside of Guildford. But his continued hunt for the criminal with the bounty on his head had taken him far. He tied up his horse, running to the small cottage, eager to tell his father all about Rapunzel. The wooden hut that served as their home had a slanted roof that was covered with moss and angled down, almost touching the ground. It only had two rooms and was more of a home for peasants, not nobles. Marco had once lived in a grand castle in Italy, although that was long ago and he barely remembered it anymore.
“Marco, where the hell have you been?” His father leaned on a cane, standing in the doorway. A scowl darkened his face. “You should have been back days ago. Did you collect the bounty so we can buy food?”
“Nay, Father. My bounty got away,” Marco said, walking up to greet him. “But I found something so extraordinary, that I must tell you about it.”
“Unless you’ve got a pouch full of coins or some food in your travel bag, I don’t want to hear it. I knew you wouldn’t come through. I should have taken care of it myself,” his father grumbled, heading back into the house.
Marco hated disappointing his father. He also hated when his father said he could have done things better. They both knew it wasn’t true with his bad leg. All Marco wanted was to take care of him and make him happy again. He longed for the days when he was a child, and his father was a proud lord and knight. When Marco’s mother was still alive, at least she was able to make his father smile once in a while. He was such a pathetic, broken man now that Marco started to think lately that there was no future for either of them.
“I met a beautiful lady with long, blond hair,” he told his father excitedly, following him into the house.
“God’s eyes, I should have known you were out sowing your oats. You probably spent our last shilling on a whore. How could you?” His father sank atop a bench, leaning over to poke at the dying embers of the fire with an iron rod.
“Nay, it’s not like that, Father. This girl is a prisoner of an old witch and trapped in a tower.”
“If you’re going to be saving damsels in distress, I hope there’s a reward involved.” His father continued to poke at the ashes, not looking at Marco when he spoke.
“Her name is Rapunzel de Bar, and she is cursed.” Marco sat on the table.
“Get off the table or have you no manners?” snapped his father. “If your mother knew the way you were acting, she’d turn in her grave right now.”
“Her hair keeps growing, and can even wrap around tree trunks on its own to keep her from escaping.”
“I’m in no mood for one of your tall tales, Marco. You are three and twenty years old now. Haven’t you outgrown that by now? You’re a man, so start acting like one.”
“It’s not a tale,” he tried to convince his father, sliding off the table. “The witch had a baby and the little girl ages one year for every day.”
“I’ve had enough!” His father threw down the iron rod and pushed up to a standing position, holding on to the edge of the table to maintain balance. “You either stop with the stories, or I’ll – where did you get that?” His father’s eyes focused on Marco’s ring. His face turned pale.
Marco quickly hid his hand behind his back, cursing himself for forgetting to remove it so his father wouldn’t see it.
“It’s nothing,” he said, heading over to stoke the fire. His father’s hand shot out and clamped around Marco’s wrist.
“Let me see that.” As his father pulled his hand clos
er, Marco tried to pull out of the man’s grip. In the process, the stone in his ring that looked like an eye started to glow.
“Bid the devil!” His father released his wrist and jumped back, stumbling and falling to the bench.
“Father, let me help you.” Marco reached for him, but the man held up a halting hand.
“Do not touch me or even come near me,” he warned.
“Why not?” asked Marco, not understanding why his father was acting this way.
“Where did you get that ring?” he asked again.
“If you must know, Mother gave it to me on her deathbed,” he explained. “She said you threw it into the lake and it took her months to find it. She wanted me to have it, but made me promise not to let you see me wearing it.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing. Take it off, now!” It started to glow again.
“Father, look at it,” said Marco, holding out his hand. “It’s glowing.”
His father’s eyes opened wide, and he maintained his distance. “Marco, you have no idea what might happen. Remove it, and get rid of it, quickly.”
“This was once your ring, wasn’t it?” Marco stroked his thumb over the stone as he spoke. “I remember you used to wear this when I was a child. I was always fascinated by the stone that looks like an eye of the dragon. Why did you stop wearing it and why did you throw it away?”
His father sighed and ran a weary hand over his face. “Sit down, Son. I guess it is time I told you everything.”
Marco sat on the bench next to his father, transporting back to a time long ago as he listened to his father’s words.
“Father, I’m riding a dragon!” Six-year-old Marco sat with his legs wrapped around the scaly dragon with his father holding him from behind. Marco’s arms lifted up over his head as the dragon flew through the clouds. He closed his eyes, feeling powerful as the wind washed over his sun-kissed face.
“You are the son of a Dragon Lord,” his father told him, sounding very proud. “In time, you will be able to control a dragon, but you are too young yet. Now, hold on before you fall off. It is a long way down.”
Lady in the Tower_Rapunzel (Tangled Tales Book 5) Page 4