by Mila Young
Told you to be careful.
“Shut up!” I didn’t need snarky remarks from myself right now.
Broken chairs and a shattered bookshelf surrounded me. Books lay scattered across the enormous room. They had found their way to the foot of my double bed, near the unlit fireplace, and into the small exercise section to keep my body moving, and my head sane. The whole place was an oversized room with all necessary amenities, and food that replicated the moment I removed it from the pantry. The wood-fire did the same, and even hot water magically ran from the bathroom and kitchen taps. Everything I could want while I rotted my life away. The witch didn’t intend for me to starve or die… She needed to keep me alive for a reason I didn’t understand.
Who the fuck knows why?
Was it to punish my father for stealing her wig made of real gold strands? Clear as day, I remembered the witch ordering her henchman to take my dad into the woods. I screamed for him to stop, to leave him alone. Moments later, the white-haired monster had returned, holding my poor father’s head. I’d fallen to my knees, and my world had shredded. Grief surged through every expelled breath, tears never stopped, and all I could picture for weeks afterward was his decapitated head. His lifeless, open eyes, and how I hadn’t been able do a thing to save him. The hole in my heart would never heal, but instead of grief, I now craved revenge.
So why had the witch offered me a comfortable life? Was it guilt for making an eight-year-old child see her dad’s decapitated head? All because he stole her gold wig. That couldn’t be worth a person’s life.
Was that why she had cursed my hair? As a lesson? It kept growing and was impossible to cut. I suspected it was meant to slow me down from running away.
But unlike my previous escape attempts, this time I’d brought something back. I slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out the magic bag from Vanore. Thankfully, my injuries hadn’t been in vain. I prayed Vanore still lived.
Now I needed an animal for the spell and knew where to find one. So I dragged myself backward on my ass to the open, arched window. Groaning, I rolled onto my knees, grasping the windowsill with a death grip, and propped myself up on one foot, letting the wall hold my weight. I gasped for air, waiting for the waves of throbbing in my foot to subside.
Outside, woods surrounded the clearing. The place I called home. Below were old remnants of a castle… a wall, an arched doorway… the floor plan still visible from up here despite the weeds and flowers that now swallowed the landscape.
These woods had apparently once been home to the first human kingdom established in Darkwoods after Haven Realm had split into seven territories. That had been long ago—ancient times—and this location reeked of history. My books explained the land had once been grand and blossoming with vegetation, the most beautiful flowers. Castle walls dripped with precious crystals, gold. Except the royal lords had been greedy and overworked their staff with no compensation, despite having rooms piled high with jewels. When everyone rebelled, the family was attacked by enemies frantic to take their place. So this kingdom had housed the first royal family to fall. The remains were evidence of the price paid for corruption.
Some books stated the youngest son of the royal family had escaped death and ended up marrying a fae princess. So maybe the fae regal families weren’t as pure as they insisted. I smirked. Snobs, the lot of them.
The skies were a patchwork of clouds. Birds flew overhead, but down below not a creature stirred. Once night came, my little furry friend would arrive. I’d bring the little furball into the tower and do Vanore’s spell.
Now to clean and bandage myself. Determination plowed through me because tonight I’d eradicate the gargoyle problem once and for all. Even if I had to drag my leg behind me. That monster would never lay a hand on me again.
The partial moon hung low in the tapestry of stars overhead, but my gaze lowered to the base of the tower. I had to be close to fifty feet off the ground, and most nights, I dropped food to the ground for the only friend who visited me. And tonight, I was going fishing.
Sitting on a seat to help with my foot, I wore so many bandages, barely an inch of my skin was left exposed. The bowl of water and herbs from Vanore’s brew sat on a small stool nearby beneath the moon’s light.
How do you know this will work? What if you’re using the herbs wrong?
“Zip it. I may not know what I’m doing, but I’m not sitting here feeling sorry for myself anymore. I’ll try anything.” Plus, Vanore had said the herbs and water were to be used by both the animal and me. So we either splash ourselves or drink it.
I hung half out the window with my hair dangling over the edge. It didn’t reach the bottom, so I’d knotted a longer strip of linen with a fish tied to the end of my hair. The food was stinky enough to bring out most critters in the woods, but also delicious served with tomatoes and bread.
Bait set, I slouched forward, elbows resting against the windowsill, and waited. I had all the time in the world and could both laugh and cry at how pathetic that sounded. My thoughts flew to Vanore. She hadn’t given me all the instructions on casting the spell or what to do with the watery concoction and animal. No killing, that was clear. I’d spent the afternoon reading, but my books didn’t reveal a thing about spells cast with herbs. Since I used them for cooking, I was going with the theory of eating them.
You sure about this?
“Yes! No time for your doubts.”
Staring out into the darkness, the cypress and oaks swayed in the wind, as they had hundreds of times I’d studied them and I wished someone… anyone would visit the ruins and defeat the gargoyle.
Rustling came from below, and I glanced down at the ginger cat with three legs rubbing herself against a nearby shrub. She must have lost one of her front legs at birth or in a fight, but it didn’t stop her from attacking lizards and bugs. The first time she’d appeared, she’d been skin and bones, so I’d fed her every night, and now she was plump and healthy. Luckily, she wasn’t noisy and never grabbed the gargoyle’s attention.
“Hello, princess. Look what I have for you. Yummy fish.” I jiggled my hair. I figured it was easier to capture her this way then go down there and chase her without the gargoyle noticing. Plus, with my injured foot, I wasn’t sure I had it in me to climb down the tower.
The cat lifted her head and sniffed the air, then pounced on the snack. I jerked my locks upward, but she missed, as I’d pulled up too fast.
Take your time.
I lowered the bait once more. She prowled closer, crouched low in hunting mode. Perfect.
A quick shake of the morsel.
The cat leaped after her meal, and I lifted my hair. She captured the treat with a claw, getting caught in the fabric, and I held my breath.
Yes.
I wrenched my hair up, one arm after the next, drawing her up into the tower. But halfway up, she bucked and fell into the bushes.
“No!”
She stood there amid the bushes, chewing on something. The fish. I’d never tried getting the cat in the tower before because I’d had no reason to, so maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d hoped.
“You dirty scoundrel.” With a sigh, I drew my hair up and tied another piece of fish to the end, then dropped the tresses out the window again. She’d eat all night if I continued to feed her.
Once again, I shook the offering. She attacked the swinging meal, and right when she jumped for it, I towed her up fast. This time, she panicked, but her claws were caught, entangled in my hair. She kicked and thrashed, twisting herself around my tresses like a fishnet capturing a mermaid.
“Don’t struggle. I won’t hurt you.” In haste, I pulled her toward me. She fought and hissed. I beamed with excitement because part one of my plan was falling into place. Now I just prayed to the heavens the rest worked out as easily.
“Come on, princess. I have something delicious for you to drink if you come inside.”
You sound creepy when you say it like that.
; “Oh, keep quiet.”
The feline hissed, and I drew her through the window without hesitation. Her claw swiped the air, catching me on the arm. I flinched, dropping her. She crouched there, stomach flat to the floor, her eyes round discs peering out from the tangle of my golden hair. Blood bubbled on my arm, with the flesh itching already.
In haste, I shut the wooden shutters. The room glowed from the candles I’d lit up across the fireplace mantel.
The furball screeched and tossed about in my hair. I leaned closer to release her from the tangled mess, but she burst free and spun to face me. Her ears peeled back and her lips curled over her fangs. Her menacing yowl echoed through the tower.
“Looks, I’m sorry for taking you, but it’s just a temporary thing. All right, I’m lying, as I’m not sure how this will go, but I need your help. Please. And in exchange, I will feed you and you can live here. I’ll build a ladder so you have a spot to stay when it rains.” I clutched at straws, guilt pulsing through me for drawing a poor cat into my problems, but we weren’t that different. Both alone, imperfect, and desperate for survival.
“I won’t harm you. How about I get you some food?” I shifted toward the kitchen, but she recoiled against the chair holding the bowl of herbal water. At that exact moment, the bowl rocked forward, and the contents splashed toward the cat, who glanced up with her mouth open, mid-meow.
The concoction hit her face and fell into her gaping mouth. I lunged toward it, arms stretched outward, catching the bowl with half the spell remaining. “Shit!”
The cat darted under the bed, and my heart beat rapidly.
Drink it now too, or you’ll waste the opportunity.
I gulped the water. Grittiness assaulted my tongue and tiny bits got stuck in my teeth. But I swallowed the briny, soil-tasting drink, and held back the gagging reflex.
Smacking my chest, I spat out a chunk that clung to my throat. A tiny piece of… What is that? Please don’t let it be a bone. I inspected the thin stem near the candle and heaved a sigh of relief. Only a twig. I stumbled onto the chair, my foot pinching with pain, and my stomach gurgling.
From beneath the bed came popping and noisy sniffing… not sounds a tiny feline should have made.
“Are you okay under there?”
A piercing ache stabbed me in the gut, and I clasped my arms around my middle. Panic swirled in my chest. I’d drank the spell without a second thought. What if I’d done the incantation wrong? My scalp itched as I tore at my head, unable to stop. The insatiability had me gritting my teeth.
“Hell!”
The orange furball scrambled out from under the bed, screeching as she crazily scratched herself. She clawed behind an ear with such vigor, she fell onto her side. It was then that I realized “Princess” wasn’t a girl at all. Geez, he had huge, round… I gawked and looked away. Not that it mattered when we resembled chimpanzees doing the itchy dance.
She… He meowed and glared at me with a look of what-have-you-done-to-me?
“Sorry, this is new for me too.” I raked my nails across the back of my head, relief lasting mere seconds. Heat bubbled in my chest, and I sweated like a beast, so I flipped open the window shutters. The cool breeze did little to help, but when a tingle started at my spine and climbed upward, I froze.
I exchanged glances with the ginger cat when golden sparks danced across his back. And at once, a lightning bolt zapped in from the heavens and struck us both in the chest.
Thrown to the ground, I writhed and screamed as my vision darkened. What the fuck was the spell doing?
Continue Reading Entangled Here.
About Mila Young
Mila Young tackles everything with the zeal and bravado of the fairytale heroes she grew up reading about. She slays monsters, real and imaginary, like there's no tomorrow. By day she rocks a keyboard as a marketing extraordinaire. At night she battles with her might pen-sword, creating fairytale retellings, and sexy ever after tales. In her spare time, she loves pretending she's a mighty warrior, walks on the beach with her dogs, cuddling up with her cats, and devouring every fantasy tale she can get her pinkies on.
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