“We are going to have to judge by feel,” Andrew whispers, reaching out his hand and unfurling the ends of one of the rolls before going on to the next.
I start on a different shelf, rubbing one material after the other between my fingers. I can recognize the rough ones like wool or leather, but the rest feel the same to me.
“We don’t have time for this,” I tell him. “Just pick one that you think is strong enough, and let’s get out of here.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, hurriedly testing two or three by yanking on them in both directions. “I think this is the right one.” He pulls at a roll, and I help him bring it down from the shelf.
“We should only take what we need so that no one gets suspicious,” I tell him.
He picks up the lamp and shines it around the room. I follow him to a table with some cutting shears. Starting at opposite ends, we cut the material into thick strips until I think we have enough to cover the distance. I put the rest of the roll away and we hurry to rejoin Elkin, who is sitting outside the doorway, sound asleep! Andrew closes the door behind us, and Elkin wakes up with a start. “Mommy?” he says, rubbing his eyes. “Have you come to tuck me in?”
Andrew and I have to stuff our fists in our mouths to keep from screaming with laughter and waking the whole castle.
When the witch comes this morning, I have to remind myself to look downcast and despondent. It isn’t too hard, considering all the practice I have gotten this past fortnight. Usually she leaves as soon as she brings my food, but of course she chooses today to hang around. She has one of those huge flying bugs circling her hair, the first I have seen of them since that day in Father’s garden. It makes me think of Steven and how I hope he made it to a secure hiding place.
I am hungry so, not knowing what else to do, I start eating the potatoes and beets that she brought me. She watches me eat, seemingly fascinated. I glance up for a second and I swear her wart wobbles of its own accord. I think I may toss up my food. I keep my head down after that.
Eventually she speaks. “I do not blame you for what you and that … that underground cave creature tried to do. I understand why you wanted to escape.”
I do not respond.
“You might think that life is better out there, but you are wrong. I know what is best for a growing girl. You will learn that I am right.”
It takes all my willpower not to scream that I will not be learning ANYTHING from her, because soon enough I shall never be laying eyes on her again. She finally leaves, and I hurry to tidy up the place before the prince comes. There is not much to tidy. I push the chair under the table and straighten the blanket on the “bed.” I tuck in the wisps of hair that have come loose from the braid. My scrapes have all healed, and I am pimple free. There is nothing I can do about the sorry state of my dress, though. I will be leaving the trunk behind, so I pull out the few things I will bring with me — the spoon and, even though it is nearly ruined, the shawl Mother knitted for me. Sir Kitty will be coming, too, of course. The rest the witch is welcome to.
Finally I hear the call from below and hurry to the window. I pray it is not the witch returned to tell me again that she knows what is best for me. Thankfully, it is the prince! He reaches into his satchel and holds up a big pile of purple silk.
I grin down at him and toss out the braid. He climbs faster this time, but he is still much slower than the witch.
“Was it any problem getting the silk?” I ask him when he climbs in.
He shakes his head and smiles. “Nah. I’ve got people on the inside.” He turns the satchel upside down, and we both get busy tying the ends together to make one long rope. It moves quickly, and when we are done, he asks, “Shall we test it?”
I nod and we go to the window. The prince ties one end to the old hinge and lets the rest drop. We both squeeze into the window frame to watch.
“Huh,” he says.
“Hmm,” I say.
“Not quite long enough, is it?”
I shake my head. “I think it would’ve been, had we not needed to tie all those knots.”
“I think you’re right. I had not taken that into consideration. I shall get the rest tonight, and we leave tomorrow for certain. I’ll take this piece with me and finish the job at the castle.”
I nod and tell him that will be wonderful, but truly I want to cry. “Will you take Sir Kitty back with you today as well? Then at least I’ll know she is safe.”
“Of course,” he says. I can tell he feels bad, too.
I pick Sir Kitty up from where she has been sunning herself on the floor and kiss her on the nose. “Don’t stir up any trouble in the castle, Sir Kitty. These are good people.” She puts her paw on my chin and I feel like crying again. Before I embarrass myself further, I hand the cat to Prince Benjamin and he puts her gently into his now empty satchel and secures it over his chest.
“Do not worry,” he says as I lower my hair for his descent. “You shall see her before you know it.”
I nod, unable to trust myself not to burst into tears if I say anything further.
Elkin has promised to stay awake this time. Just to be sure, we have instructed him to stand with one leg raised at all times. That should keep him focused. I feel very stupid for not considering how much the silk ladder would shrink once the pieces were tied together. It barely reached halfway to the ground. Rapunzel put on a brave face, but I know she was disappointed. I have set up Sir Kitty in the royal pet room, where she will get cared for and fed at all hours of the day and night. I told the royal animal handler that I am watching her for a friend and to keep a special eye on her. He bowed and asked no questions. I gave him an excellent head-bob, if I do say so myself.
Andrew is grabbing at the rolls of material, muttering, “Where is it? It was right here last night!”
I hold the lamp up so he can see better. The purple roll is definitely not on the shelf where I stashed it. “You’ll have to search on your own,” I tell him. “I have to get down to the sitting room to meet Mum. Do you know what she wants to talk to me about?”
Andrew shakes his head. “You go on — I’ll find it.”
I hurry out, saluting Elkin as I pass him. Good to his word, he is balancing on one leg. I run through the castle to the sitting room. Mum is waiting in front of the fire, her knitting needles flashing so quickly, my eye can barely follow. Annabelle is spinning a top at her feet. Does the child not have a bedtime?
“Have a seat, Benjamin,” Mum says, gesturing with her elbow to the seat beside her.
Could she have found out about my trips to the tower? I do not see how. Something is going on, though. She rarely asks to speak to me in such a formal manner. “Is something troubling you, Mum?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Quite the opposite. I have good news. You are now engaged to be married, Benjamin. We have selected your future bride, a lovely princess who lives three kingdoms away. The wedding will take place on your seventeenth birthday.”
Annabelle pops her head up and squeals, “I engaged, too, Benjy! We bof engaged!”
I should be stunned by this news. Flabbergasted and appalled. However, I have just noticed the beautiful purple silk robe that Mum is wearing.
“May I be excused?” I ask her.
She nods.
I jump out of the chair and run back down the twisting hallways to the workroom. In my brief absence, Elkin has switched to the other foot. Andrew has made a mess of the place and is still muttering to himself. “No silk, no silk anywhere!”
“You can stop your search,” I announce. “Mum is WEARING it! Oh, and I am now engaged.”
At that, Elkin comes running into the room, and Andrew hurries over to me, knocking aside one of the dressmaker’s mannequins.
“You are engaged?” Elkin asks, eyes wide.
Hearing him say it, Mum’s words finally sink in. “I am engaged,” I repeat, sinking to my knees. “How can I be engaged? I just met the first girl I have ever liked.”
LATER EVE
NING
I refuse to focus on Mum’s announcement. I cannot let it distract me from the issue at hand. I must get that robe. I cannot let Rapunzel down again. I make Elkin and Andrew take an oath not to mention the engagement either to me or amongst themselves.
“Our goal tonight is to get that robe. Mum will be going to sleep soon, and then we shall have to whisk it from her room.”
“Can’t we just use another piece of fabric?” Elkin asks.
Andrew shakes his head. “Nothing else is strong enough. The next shipment is not in for a week.”
Two hours later, Mum is finally snoring in her bed. Father is downstairs in his throne room arguing with his bailiff over some kingly matter involving a goat and a stash of potatoes. Mum’s lady-in-waiting, Cassandra, has settled into her room next door. Unless she is kept occupied, she will certainly hear us. “You’re on, Andrew,” I tell him, pushing him down the hall after her.
“But what if Cassandra doesn’t want to talk to me?”
“She has fancied you for years,” I assure him. “Just whisper sweet nothings for five minutes.”
“Fine,” Andrew says grudgingly. “But you owe me.”
“You can be the ring bearer at his wedding!” Elkin calls softly after him.
I give him a little shove. “You promised!”
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “I could not resist.”
I point to his left leg. He rolls his eyes but lifts his leg as he moves to his post at the side of the door. Luckily Mum’s door is well oiled and opens silently. The glow of the lamp on the wall is enough to light my way. I scan the room, and do not see it at first. The door to her wardrobe is open and there must be twenty identical-looking robes hanging on wooden hangers. I pick out the new one and silently slip it off the hanger and over my shoulder. Then right before I turn to go, I grab the hanger. There is a better chance that she’ll notice its absence if she sees an empty hanger. The other hangers bump into one another as I pull it out and I hold my breath. Mum’s snoring remains steady so I tiptoe from the room, glad that I listened to Andrew and took off my heavy boots.
Tomorrow I will finish the job of rescuing Rapunzel, and will tell Mum that I am not marrying the princess from three kingdoms away.
Well, I’m sure I can do the first part. The second part will take more courage.
Up before dawn, I am counting the seconds until the witch calls to me from below. The sooner she arrives, the sooner she will leave. Then Prince Benjamin will arrive to TAKE ME OUT OF THIS PLACE.
It seems like time is moving backward this morning. If I did not know better, I would say even the blackbirds are circling just a little bit slower than usual. Finally the witch calls out, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” for what will be the last time. I cannot lower my hair fast enough. It seems to take her forever to reach the top.
She has only one leg over the window ledge when I cannot help but mutter, “Honestly, you’d think you were the prince, it took you so long.”
She stops climbing. If I thought time was going slowly before, now it has certainly stopped. I cannot breathe. Did I truly say that out loud? After what feels like an eternity, the witch climbs the rest of the way in and sets the bowl of food on the table. I am still holding my breath. Perhaps she did not hear me? Or thought I said something else?
No such luck. In a flash, she grabs my shoulders. I have seen her angry before, but nothing like this. Her frizzled hair stands on end, and her eyes practically bug out of her face. I am too angry with myself to be scared.
“You want to see what life is like on your own so badly? Well, here is your chance.”
For a second I think she is going to just let me go. But no. She whips out a pair of shears, which makes me wonder what else she’s got stored in that long black coat of hers. She yanks my braid in though the window until it is coiled at my feet. Then she turns me around so she is directly behind me. I hear the blades of the shears open, and in one cut, she snips off my entire braid and walks toward the window with it. At first I am stunned, then my hands fly up to my head. I can feel the air on the back of my neck for the first time since I was a small babe. I feel so much lighter.
I don’t have any time to enjoy the new feeling, however. The witch drags me to the window, and I see she has tied my braid to the hinge. She grabs me under her arm the same way she did when she took me from my home originally. Then she climbs out the window, with me still under her arm. We slide down the braid. If I were not already my own worst enemy, I would be hitting myself right now. I cannot BELIEVE that I did not think of cutting off my braid and escaping this way. I could have just told the prince to bring me a pair of shears instead of trying to make a silk ladder, and I would have been home by now. I may be too stupid to live. Perhaps my parents were right to trade me.
The witch undoes the harness of a horse on her carriage. She throws herself onto its bare back and lifts me up in front of her. She holds me so tight, I cannot breathe. We wind in and out of trees, across brooks, and over fallen logs until I have completely lost my way. By the time we stop, I am ready to fall over.
She lifts me off the horse and tosses me (TOSSES ME!) into the middle of a circle of tall bushes. “Good luck making it through the night,” she says, and takes off without a backward glance.
On my knees on the damp grass, I do not know what to feel. All my hopes dashed yet again. I look around me. The bushes are thick with thorns. The overhanging branches of the trees provide good protection from the heat of the morning sun, but I know they will also make it very cold at night. I am quite hidden in here. I am ever so thankful the prince took Sir Kitty. She would be so scared in this place.
I gasp aloud. The prince! He is going to show up at the tower and I will not be there! He will never know what has become of me. He will think I have spurned his kindness and left! Perhaps I dreamed the whole thing and there never was a prince. Or a cat. Perhaps the witch put a spell on me to make me believe all those things. My strength has fully left me and the hunger floods in. I crawl over to the nearest bush and pluck a handful of berries. I chew them listlessly, then curl up in a tight ball and try to pretend today never happened.
MIDDAY
I have tried all day, but I cannot sleep out here on the forest floor. It is altogether different down here from what I had imagined from the tower window. First off, it is noisy. Bugs and birds and animals making all sorts of squawks and calls and yelps. It is wet from the dew that gets trapped by the tree cover. I have been bitten at least three times, and stung at least once. I stand up to stretch my legs, and the ease with which I stand surprises me. Something is different. My hair! I have not had a chance to think about what the witch did. She finally gave me my birthday haircut! How long ago my birthday seems now. I am so much older now than I was then, and this short hair suits me.
I take stock of the situation. I have nothing but berries to eat, and nothing but whatever dew I can collect on the leaves that carpet the forest floor. If I tried to squeeze through the prickly bushes, I would eventually reach the other side, but I would be bloodied up quite badly. Even my limited schooling taught me that blood draws animals. At least, I am somewhat protected from them inside the circle.
I close my eyes and take a long, deep breath. I am done planning. What will happen will happen. I should have trusted Steven’s words all along. I can do only one thing now.
I can sing.
I ride Snowflake right up to the base of the tower and hop off. I grab my satchel and call up, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” Then to be clever I add, “So I can get you out of there!” Ah, good poetry never goes out of style.
Rapunzel lowers her braid and I climb up faster this time than before. It figures: I find the one physical activity I am not half bad at, and this will be the last time I ever do it. I hop in the window and can’t wait to show her the ladder that I finished in the wee hours of the morn. But there is no girl at the end of the braid. There is only an ugly, angry, scary witch. I
frantically search the room, but Rapunzel is nowhere in sight.
“What have you done with her?” I demand. I stand straight and tall and give her my most royal glare. She is not impressed. With one swing of her arm, she knocks me clear to the wall. My ears ring from the blow, and my glasses are knocked all the way across the room.
“Do you think that just because you are a prince you can do whatever you like?”
Her words sound fuzzy to me. All I can hear are prince and whatever. Do I nod or shake my head? I do not know what will bring her wrath. Nodding is the easier solution because my chin is already resting on my chest from the blow. So I lift it slightly and nod once. That apparently was the wrong answer, because the next thing I know, I am flying through the air. The witch has tossed me out the window!
I grab blindly for the braid as I fall, but when I catch hold of it, the force rips it from the hinge and it falls right along with me. It is true what they say about your life passing before your eyes when you are about to die. There I am at two, taking my first steps across the Great Lawn (I was a late bloomer). There I am at seven at my birthday party. I choose Andrew to sit next to me, instead of Elkin. Interesting. Perhaps Elkin was right and I did not treat him well. I shall have to apologize. In the next life, that is. There I am at ten, the day the midwife showed me Annabelle for the first time and she grabbed my thumb and wouldn’t let go. And finally, there is Rapunzel with her glowing eyes and bright smile. My last thought shall be of her, and how I have let her down.
I fully expect to break my back as I hit the ground, but to my astonishment, I find myself upright in my saddle. I cannot believe it! Snowflake has broken my fall! The witch is screaming something from the window, but it just sounds like noise to my ears. I can make out Snowflake’s neck, but without my glasses, I might as well have my eyes closed. “It is up to you, old friend, to take us home. It would probably be a good idea to move quickly before the witch decides to put a curse on us.”