Page 104 of Down from the Tower

Dorah bares her teeth at me, but it’s nothing in this form. “Shows what you know, Reaper. Midas was given a great gift. By a God. He carries the power in his hand.”

This woman is stark raving mad. “The Golden Touch is a curse he carries, with pros and cons. It doesn’t give him the all-consuming power of a God. He’s a false King masquerading as something more.”

She flies towards me, and I tilt the blade to keep her back. She stops short, cowering from the point. “You do not speak ill of my King!”

“He’s not your anything,” I remind her. “You’re dead.”

Dorah shakes her head. “You don’t get it. Neither of you do. The King is powerful because he has a failsafe in place. Hurt him?” She laughs, the noise a little hysterical as her soul tries to reason with us. “You can’t! He has the souls to rely on! Try to stab him? It’s okay! The water gives him control of the spirits to crush them out of existence.”

“That doesn’t make sense!” Rapunzel snarls.

But it does. Thinking of the notes I read from Grimm, and what I know about the King, the pieces slide together. “There’s gold in the water, and Midas controls the gold. People drink water constantly, and that in turn becomes bits of them. When they die, the soul is contaminated with bits of gold…”

My voice trails off, and Dorah’s soul seems to jump for joy, clapping her hands. “Yes!”

Slowly, Rapunzel’s eyes lift to her mother. “The people consume Midas’ magic unknowingly. It calls their souls to the magic’s source when they die.”

“That’s why the dead in Tressa don’t rise,” I continue, watching the dead Queen. “They do, but Midas’ pull draws them to his Golden Touch when they die. I’ve always heard that his touch is just as powerful now as it was years before. His magic doesn’t dwindle with age, because his daughter has life altering magic, and every person who dies in the Kingdom goes to fuel his magic.”

Dorah gives us a feral grin. “Now you see the big picture. There is no stopping the King!”

Rapunzel steps back, her repulsion clear. “And giving me the tea…”

“You have the Golden Touch,” Dorah replies. “You always have. Midas’ magic transferred to his daughters before birth, and Rosen died when she couldn’t handle the booster. You thrived, but your magic, partnered with the Phoenix Roses, was too great. You need to be controlled to be able to manage it.”

She gestures down to her dead body, to the chaos of the room. “See what happens when you aren’t handled properly? You must take your tea. That’ll put the powers back under control.”

“You mean suppress them,” she says, her voice deadly quiet. The venom that leaks into her tone is enough to make Dorah’s ghostly brow furrow. “I killed Modred because I missed one cup of the tea and melted off his face.”

Rapunzel holds out her hands and they glow, heating the sweltering room up further. “I have… what, fire? Heat? It must be from the Phoenix Rose if Midas has no power of heat or flame.”

Dorah shrugs. “Who knows. It worked to keep your hair from moving with a mind of its own, and hid everything else.”

“Like healing,” she growls.

“Well, that was necessary. The rhyme Midas taught you would channel your powers so you didn’t become too much to handle.” Dorah crossed her arms, trying to look down on her daughter. She doesn’t know how to float yet, still adjusting so soon after passing, and the effect is lost. “We tried to do right by you, Rapunzel. Watching the Golden Princess. Protecting the Golden Princess. We even let you keep that stupid cat as a friend. But you always wanted more, and we couldn’t chance anything happening with the Mad Queen or Arthur or any of our other allies.”

“Because I was a pawn,” she snaps. “You used tea to control how much of my magic I could access, you lied to me about my whole life, and you got rid of my twin sister to further your ambitions.”

“You make it sound so awful,” Dorah snaps. “We did what we did to keep Tressa safe and you protected. Be grateful we cared so much!”

“You didn’t,” she replies, shifting back on her heels. “If you did, my sister would still be alive and you would never have suppressed my real powers. If you hadn’t hid them from me, Mother, if I had known even once that I could do more, I would’ve focused on learning all I could about myself. Before I knew about the other side of the wall, I would’ve offered my help to you both. I would have supported you both because I loved you!”

Now she steps backward, shaking her head as she reaches the door. “But that would never be enough. Not for the two of you. Playing with people's souls, killing your own child? There’s no love lost between either of you. You’ve become monsters of your own making. And… and I’m glad I killed you, Mother. It’s what you deserved.”

Dorah roars, but my eyes stay on the princess. She looks back at me, her eyes tired as she reaches to tug on her hair, the ends caked with drying blood. “Can you send her away, Zarev?”

“Reap her?”

“I don’t care if you disintegrate her soul,” she snaps. “It’s just not fair her spirit is here and Rosen’s isn’t. Just… just do it.”

I nod, and when I turn back Dorah is closer to me, her distorted face leaning into mine. “What are you going to do, shadow man? My soul is bound to Midas.”

“I see you haven’t disappeared to his side,” I remind her, and Dorah’s face twists with confusion. “Midas is doing something to call the souls to Tressa, isn’t he? That’s why they’re traveling across the lands to the wall. If he were all powerful as you say, you wouldn't be here talking to us. But spirits are my gift, my curse, and your soul can’t differentiate between his power and my draw. Reapers turn you to the afterlife. Midas has no such power. If he gets ahold of your soul, he’ll destroy it.”

I almost think it’s more fitting. Why let her go into the next life at all? She’s destroyed so many in this one, and if she was heartless enough to let an infant suffer there’s no good in her.

“Reaper-”

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