Page 11 of Down from the Tower

“You said Death before.”

He chuckles again, nodding as he paces the room. I watch as he observes my lone window more than once, eyeing the bars like he disapproves as much as I do.

But he’s out of my personal space. Without the suffocation of those unnatural shadows, I can breathe again.

“The lands are screaming for help, Princess,” he says, spinning on a heel to study me. He’s across the room, near my paints and books, and for some reason a protective instinct flares up. If he spitefully destroys those it’ll take ages to convince Dorah or Midas that I truly need more. Last time I had to withhold the magic to get replacements after Anastasia spitefully threw handfuls of my paints out the window, and I once punched Priscilla in the head for tearing apart one of my books when a guard thought he had a shot at me over her.

Those sisters… they are always so bitter to me. Of the attendants in the castle, they are two close to my age who I get to see fairly often. But their hatred of me is too deep to ever consider something as simple as friendship.

“Mystica is dying,” he continues, and my gaze snaps back to meet his. I got so distracted for a moment, I almost forgot what we were in the middle of discussing. “And Death is calling.”

“Mystica,” I mutter, glancing at my map. It takes a moment to wrap my head around his words. “What do I care for the troubles of the mainland? Tressa has no reason to deal with your problems.”

He stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, peering between me and the map on my wall several times. “What do you mean the mainland, Princess?”

I jab a finger over my shoulder. “The mainland, of course. Occasionally ships come to port from there. I assume you arrived on a tradeship sometime this past week-”

“No,” he snaps, crossing his arms. “I rushed through the forest and over the wall that hides Tressa. I came here on foot, from the land that hides on the other side of the wall. You must know that Tressa is only a kingdom, not an island nation.”

I stare at him, looking back at my map. Is he that bad at geography? “You must be confused. Mystica can only be reached by ship-”

“Or by passing through the wall,” he interrupts. “Though, Midas has made that a little difficult since he infused the wall with his own powers,”

He’s speaking nonsense. “No. Mystica is the mainland. Tressa is an island. Stop messing with my head.”

“They truly have you under their control,” he says, shaking his head. “You have no idea the lies you’ve been told.”

“They aren’t lies! Mystica is too far for me to travel when the kingdom needs me-”

“Mystica is less than a half day's walk from the castle,” he growls. “Your map misses some key details. Where’s the Red Woods or Thornton Palace? What about the Frostlands? Wonderland? You’re missing great kingdoms on this fake map.”

None of those names mean anything to me. The mainland is too far to travel, and the King would never risk taking me that far outside the palace walls. Going outside the city is simply out of the question, so learning about the other kingdoms never makes it into my lessons. I know a little about Camelot, only because Arthur is our most frequent guest.

“You’re a liar,” I say, pushing his questions away. I don’t know those places, and I won’t get to visit either while my father is still alive.

But he doesn't back down, and maybe I should be more mindful of a man who doesn’t bleed and lets his shadow magic play with me. I clear my throat at his silence, crossing my arms. I won’t back down from this either. He doesn’t belong in the castle and I won’t be made to feel like a fool for not knowing the names of places in the great unknown. “I’m trapped here on the island of Tressa. We all are. Don’t pretend that we could all escape!”

His brow twitches, and I fear I’ve said too much. I can’t divulge the King and Queens worries like that to a stranger, but he’s getting under my skin far too easily.

Escaping my tower is always on my mind. I don’t have any skills outside of the magic cursed into my hair, and as the only person who can wield it, Midas isn’t looking to bid me farewell anytime soon. The fact that the magic fades when it is no longer attached to me makes my abilities that much stranger.

Shadow man breaks his silence, his words cutting right through me. “The only place you’re trapped right now princess is in the confines of your own mind.”

“No, I’m trapped in this tower!”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at me. “Fine, Princess. Keep believing their lies. Your ignorance makes no difference to me.”

He does something, I’m not quite sure what, but the shadows wash over him. Maybe it’s to hide him further, but I can still make out all of the same details. He shoots me a wink, and my jaw drops when he literally fades to nothing but shadows, making me gasp.

The shadows dart across the floor of my room, and I almost miss them in the dark. I hurry after the inky blurr, watching as it disappears through the bars of my window. I grasp them, like the prisoner I am, and he suddenly appears on the other side of the window.

Floating. He can float.

“Enjoy the prison, Princess. One lonely tower doesn’t feel like living. Continue buying into their lies, and you’ll forever believe them.”

He’s nothing but shadow again before I can respond, the blackness gliding across the shingles of the roof until it fades from sight. I watch for many moments, trying to make sense of all this.

Who was that man, and why do I want to listen to his tricks?

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