The Witch's Daughter Read online

  “Yes, Rapunzel is your treasure,” I said soothingly, slowly backing towards the mouth of the cave. “I will go to Rapunzel now.” I wove a hint of magic into my voice, mesmerizing, calming. If my mother’s mind had not started to go, she would have noticed what I was doing at once. Instead, she just stared blankly at me as I retreated. For just a moment, I thought I saw her back straighten and a glimpse of brown in her snow white hair.

  “Stop.” The voice halted me in my tracks before I could edge out of the cavern and back up the tunnel. It was full of overtones, echoing without the help of the cave walls. “Who told you to come here? Did they send you?” Mogra seemed to grow larger, her disguise flickering in and out. I saw glimpses of my mother’s young face before the torn patches of the spell repaired themselves. She was caught between two different shapes, unsure which she wanted to take.

  We both moved in the same moment. I ducked back into the tunnel as Mogra lifted her hand, cradling a crackling ball of flame in her palm that was much larger than my tiny globe of light had been. Too startled and frightened to shield myself, I turned and ran for the surface as fast as I could, stumbling up the steep slope of tunnel and bursting out into the forest.

  The sun had set while I was underground, leaving everything dark, but I continued running, not stopping to see if Mogra had actually thrown the ball of burning magic after me. I suspected she had not. Perhaps part of her still recognized me as her daughter. I knew one thing for certain – it was too dangerous for me to stay near her any longer.

  …

  Chapter Ten:

  Feet pounding over the uneven forest floor, I crashed blindly through the darkness, hurrying towards the tower where Rapunzel slept. I threw my arms out like the wings of a bird, trying desperately to keep my balance. Several times I thought I was running in the wrong direction, but miraculously my legs had memorized the path. My pulse hammered wildly like the heartbeat of a frightened mouse hiding from a night owl.

  I needed to leave. Mogra had become too dangerous, too unpredictable to deal with. Although I had managed to escape this time, I might not be so lucky again. Trapped in her high tower without any magical powers, Rapunzel was no threat, but Mogra could turn on me at any time if she felt paranoid.

  Painful lances of guilt pierced my stomach, making me flinch and forcing me to slow my run to a jog. It was easier to think of my mother as Mogra now, easier to separate myself from her. My mother, the same beautiful woman who had thrown me in the air so that I could pretend to fly. The woman who had taught me which herbs restored health and which caused sickness. The woman who had given me Rapunzel.

  Despite our long estrangement, I had still loved her when she locked Rapunzel away. Even now, a small part of me could not help but love her. Or, at least, it loved what she had once been to me. I had no love for the madwoman that I had just seen in the cave. She was not my mother. She was someone else, something else.

  I stopped short as I came upon the tower. It loomed up out of the dark, its silhouette impossible to miss even at night. The night-sounds of the forest were loud here, not like the eerie silence that had surrounded Mogra’s cave. The view was familiar. I released some of the tension from my muscles, clinging to the semblance of normalcy.

  Staring up at the high balcony, I wondered if Rapunzel was asleep. I rarely came to visit her in the middle of the night, although I often shared her bed. She was probably asleep already, curled up in a tight little ball under the covers, rolling from one end of the four-posted canopy bed to the other because I was not there to hold her still. I felt terrible for disturbing her, but I was frightened.

  I glanced at the slender ash trees that grew around the tower. Mogra had picked them deliberately, stating that they would not carry a man’s weight, but what about the weight of a young woman?

  Deciding to try my theory, I hooked my elbow over the lowest branch of the nearest ash. It groaned, swaying a little as I lifted my feet off the ground and began to scale its trunk, but did not bend and fall. Holding my breath, I carefully navigated the thin branches, locking my muscles whenever the tree began to move beneath me.

  Hoping to end the climb before I lost my balance, I shoved myself through the rest of the dying fall leaves and snatched at the balcony railing, holding on for dear life. For a moment, my damp fingers slipped, but I fixed my grip and tugged myself up and over the balcony wall, landing on the soft soles of my shoes and listening intently to make sure that Rapunzel was still asleep. The last thing I wanted to do was startle her. I already came bearing bad news.

  The door to the inner chamber had been left ajar to let in the breeze, and I crept inside the room without making a sound. “Rapunzel,” I whispered as I approached the bed, keeping my voice soft. I could just make out her form beneath the sheets. She looked beautiful in the silver-gray moonlight streaming in from outside, although perhaps I was biased. Her impossibly long braid was coiled above her head like a great golden snake, piled in strange curved patterns over her pillows. “Rapunzel,” I repeated, louder than before.

  This time, her lashes fluttered and I watched her stretch her jaw, rubbing at one eye with a tired hand. “Ailynn? Wha– why are you here?” she asked, her voice breaking with sleepiness.

  “Shh… I had to come see you…”

  “Something is wrong,” Rapunzel guessed immediately, reading the emotions in my voice since she could not see my face in the darkness. Reaching out blindly, she groped for the candle and match on her bedside table. After a few moments, faint light filled our corner of the room.

  Rapunzel gasped as the light fell on my face, illuminating the hard set of my lips and the uncomfortable stiffness in my jaw. I bore no visible injuries from my encounter with Mogra, but the fear and disappointment were just as easy for her to see. Rapunzel had a gift for judging people’s actions and responses, especially mine. This puzzled me, because she had been isolated for most of her life with little chance to develop these skills.

  I tried to speak, to explain why I had climbed up to her bedroom in the middle of the night, but I could not find the words. Her small, soft hand reached out, two fingertips caressing my cheek in a half-circle. “Don’t leave me, Ailynn… please don’t leave me here with her.”

  “She attacked me today,” I said, forcing my voice past the tight ball in my throat until it cracked. “She is completely insane now. I think she’s conducting some kind of experiment in the secret cave she hides in.”

  “She attacked you?” Pulling me frantically onto the bed, Rapunzel began pushing aside my clothes to search for bruises or cuts. “Did she hurt you?” For once, her touch did not make my heart pound and my hands tremble. I could only remember that I was leaving. Who knew when I would get the chance to feel Rapunzel’s touch again?

  Do not think like that, I ordered myself. I buried all of my negative thoughts, afraid that Rapunzel would sense them and worry even more.

  “I have to leave,” I said, not able to meet my love’s eyes. I stared at the headboard of her bed instead, following the patterns in the grain of the wood. The flickering candlelight gave the illusion of movement. “I have been through every book in the library twice. With moth- Mogra… gone… there is no reason to stay.”

  Rapunzel’s hands lingered for a moment, and then fell away. The loss of her touch left a gaping hole somewhere in the middle of my chest. I felt as though part of my soul had been sucked out. Instead of looking surprised, she seemed resigned. Rapunzel was never one to indulge in self-pity or hysteria. I admired her inner strength, but part of me wished that she would burst into tears or start screaming at me, ball her fists and beat my chest, something. Selfishly, I wanted her to prove that she was as consumed by love as I was.

  “I will wait for you,” she promised instead, the edge of her leg just barely pressing against mine. She leaned closer, allowing our shoulders to brush as well. “I will wait for you if you promise to come back.”

  For a fraction of a second, I sensed her fear. I could not see it in
her face, but it radiated from her body in one short, sharp pulse, so strong that I could almost smell it. She was terrified that I would leave her here to rot, that I would forget about her.

  Slowly, careful not to startle her, I pulled Rapunzel into my arms, sighing as our bodies met and recognized each other. “I promise,” I whispered against the crown of her head, placing a kiss on top of her golden hair. She squeezed tighter. “It would be impossible for me to forget you. I have to come back.” She murmured something, only a few words, but I could not make them out because her face was partially buried in my shoulder. “What was that?”

  “I love you,” she murmured. A soft, hesitant kiss brushed against the dip in my throat where it ran into my shoulder. I knew that she could feel my heart speed up and my breath catch. “Stay with me tonight…”

  “I will stay with you forever, if you let me.” I blushed, hoping that the candle was not bright enough to illuminate my red face. Rapunzel began to draw away from me, but I held tighter, not wanting to let her go. “I love you, too,” I said, pleased when my words came out stronger, more confident. I believed in those words with all my heart. “We are two-souls, Tuathe. When I come back, I want you to marry me.”

  Something wet seeped through the material of my dress and I realized that Rapunzel was crying. “No, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you…”

  “Is it silly that this is one of the happiest nights of my life, even though you’re leaving in the morning?” Slowly lifting her chin, Rapunzel loosened our embrace enough to look up at me, her brown eyes glistening with tears. Before I could process the change, two gentle hands cupped my face and brought our lips together.

  I had kissed Rapunzel with joy before, with love, and even with restrained desire. But until that moment, I had never tasted sadness in another person’s lips. When she pulled away, only an inch, I was not sure if the kiss had left my heart empty or full. It was not enough, so I kissed her again. She opened her mouth against mine, allowing my tongue to stroke hers as her hand curled around my hip.

  Both of us knew that we could not go any further. Not tonight. I wanted the memories to be beautiful, not the beginning of a painful goodbye. Without asking, I sensed that Rapunzel felt the same. Neither of us slept much that night. We spent most of the long, dark hours crying, kissing, and listening to each other’s breathing. Even while we held each other close, loneliness, love’s companion, began to creep over us like a thick gray fog.

  The next morning was dark, a reflection of my mood. Birds sang outside nonetheless, not discouraged by the sickly gray pallor of the sky. I had hardly slept at all during the night, but Rapunzel, at least, got a few hours of fitful sleep beside me. I was content to hold her, trying to memorize how she felt in my arms, just in case… just in case I never got the chance again.

  Carefully peeling myself from her tight embrace, I crept out of bed without disturbing her. When her empty arms reached out for me, I eased a pillow into the empty space. It must have carried my scent, because she buried her face in the fabric and pulled it closer to her chest.

  My insides tied themselves in slippery knots, the nauseating feeling of fear growing stronger by the second. For several minutes, I could only stare at my love as she slept, guilt tearing at my soul. Even though I knew that Mogra would not allow me to stay, even though I knew that I had to find a way to release Rapunzel from the enchantment that kept her prisoner, I felt like a coward. What kind of protector and provider was I, running away like a frightened child?

  As I forced myself to turn away from Rapunzel’s sleeping form, the room’s colors seemed to fade right before my eyes, fading back into dull browns and grays. I realized that I did not know how to say goodbye to her. Perhaps it would be easier to leave before she woke up. Maybe it would be less painful for both of us.

  Creeping quietly over to her small writing desk, I searched for a piece of paper and an inkbottle. Choosing a quill, I ran the soft edge of the feather along my cheek, searching for the right words. Eventually, I gave up. There is no good way to say goodbye to someone you love.

  Rapunzel,

  I love you. I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you, and that love has only grown with you. Sometimes, the depth of this love frightens me. I have never felt anything so strongly before in my life.

  It seems that most of my memories are of waiting – waiting to tell you my feelings, waiting for you to become a woman, waiting for you to be free so that we can begin a life together. I would wait until the end of the world for you, but the time for waiting is done. You deserve to be free and reclaim the world for your own.

  This separation will not be forever. Soon, we will walk away from this place together, and I will hold your hand. Please do not hate me for leaving you behind. I promise that I will always come back to you. I pray that you will still love and want me when I return. You are my life’s greatest blessing and my one true joy.

  Wait for me. Please. I know that I do not deserve someone as wonderful as you, someone with such beauty inside of them. But even though I am unworthy of the gift of your love, I am asking for it anyway. Wait for me. I will find a way to free you, no matter how long it takes.

  Forgive me.

  I did not sign the letter, too ashamed of myself to put my signature on it. She would know that I had written it. Sick with the knowledge of what I was about to do, I carefully folded the letter and set it beside the guttering candle on her night table. Before I left the tower, I took one final look at my sleeping love, my Tuathe.

  I moistened my fingertips with my tongue and put the candle out.

  …

  Part Two:

  Recorded by Lady Eleanor Baxstresse, taken from the verbal accounts of Ailynn, the Witch’s daughter

  …

  Chapter One:

  One year. Twelve torturous, lonely months apart from my beloved.

  I do not like to think of that year. Like the seemingly endless plains, the villages I stayed in and the people I interacted with blurred together. I missed Rapunzel terribly. A year of my life – our life together – was gone, and I grieved its passing. Although the search was a part of my life, it was never a part of my story.

  My memories of that time are gray, colorless recollections of little importance. They did impart one important lesson to me, though, and it was one that I never forgot. Living without Rapunzel was not really living at all. I existed, I breathed and slept like any other person, but I did not feel the full spectrum of emotions. I was a cracked, brittle shell of myself.

  Alone for the first time in my life, I sank into a deep depression. Only thoughts of my waiting love kept me from complete despair. I refused to give up hope that I would find the spell I needed to free Rapunzel. I became a wanderer, traveling across the central part of the kingdom, seeking out everyone who studied magic. Someone, I knew, would be able to help me. I could not bear to think of the alternative.

  But the Kingdom was changing.

  There were whispers of black sorcery rising up from the darkness to consume the white-cliffed city of Kalmarin. A proclamation was issued, and it was so startling that even I, in my haze of pain and loneliness, took notice. Amendyr had a new Queen. The King had died under mysterious circumstances, and his second wife (whom most of Amendyr had not even known about since the marriage was so recent and so sudden) took over his duties to the crown.

  Then, strange things began to happen. Tales of weird, twisted creatures began to spread. Giant, demonic dogs with eyes of green fire were attacking villages. No one had ever seen their like before, but they quickly earned themselves a name – the Shadowkin.

  The Shadowkin did not hunt alone. Sleek, brown creatures made from mud and dust and human ashes accompanied them. They were the Kerak, a much more ancient creature, but just as deadly. They were almost human, but their limbs were stretched grotesquely and they could run on all fours. Their hands bore scythe-like claws perfect for ripping open the abdominal cavity or slitting throats.


  There was talk of rebellion. Everyone was sure that the Queen was behind the terrible massacres that were happening across Amendyr. She did not bother to hide it. Wherever I went, I saw able-bodied men leaving their wives and children behind to head for the Rengast Mountains where the rebels made their camp.

  Fear blanketed each city and village that I visited. As I traveled along the border of the forest and over the flat plains at the heart of the kingdom, I felt its choking grip settle over my shoulders like a heavy cape. Fear has a taste; a dry, bitter taste that clogs the nose and throat and cuts off the breath.

  Three times, fate chose the town I was passing through for its next cruel blow. The first time, I barely escaped with my life. I awoke to the unforgettable scent of burning flesh and the coppery smell of blood. My heart jerked in my chest and it took me a moment to remember to breathe. Scared and confused, I looked out the window to see what was happening. When I opened it, the smell crashed over me in a powerful wave, almost sending me to my knees. Then I heard the screams.

  The shouts and cries of men, women, and children blended together into an inescapable wall of sound accompanied by the crackling of flames and the roaring of great beasts. I was beyond fear now – I was panicked and terrified.

  But I had not been raised a fool. I was smart enough and quick enough to realize that they – whoever they were – wanted everything burned to the ground. It would only be a matter of time until they got to the boarding house where I was staying.

  I used a Word of Power, almost putting too much magical energy behind it because of my fear. My skin began to flicker and shift, bending to the shadows. I opened the door to my room, not bothering to be quiet because of the loud, unbearable noises coming from outside. It was a difficult spell, one that required a good deal of focus and life force, and I hoped that I would not have to use much more magic.