Page 106 of Down from the Tower

Stepping back, I offer Zarev a soft smile. “Let’s finish this.”

The halls of the castle are silent. Eerily so. In all the years I’ve lived here, pained moans and cries filled the hallways closest to the throne room and the royals bedrooms. There should be a symphony of noise with everything going on.

But as we walk down the halls, hidden by Zarev’s shadows, I see and hear nothing. My nails dig into his arms, needing to feel his strength beneath my hands before my mind runs away from me. All my thoughts are both in overdrive and stuttering to a stop at the same time, and nothing is processing anymore. I can see my end goal, the need to stop Midas before he destroys the lives of many, but I can’t mentally handle it.

Maybe I’m still numb to Dorah. When the fallout comes, it’ll be heavy.

“Rapunzel.”

I start at Zarev’s voice, whipping my head around so quickly that he accidentally chokes on my hair. I expect to see guards, Midas, anyone, but the halls are silent and empty.

From this direction we pass the parlor where Midas introduced me to guests. There should be half dead people in this hallway, but it’s silent.

We’re right beside the door where Robin the Brave lived in torment. Now the gold is completely covering his body. I blink, stepping towards the man.

I’ve talked to Robin briefly many times over the years. He was one of Midas’ favorites to torment. Now gold covers every part of him, frozen in time where he suffered in pain. The hurt is etched on his golden face along with the resignation that he died here.

Blinking, I stare down the hall. Everyone who Midas tortured is turned completely to gold, leaving not a single soul in the hallway. Somehow, this is sadder than when they were living.

They couldn’t escape the gold without death, but knowing that Midas decided to silence them forever during his spiral makes my heart hurt.

“He killed them,” I mutter, stepping from the safety of the shadows. I feel them slipping away and for once Zarev doesn’t attempt to draw me back in. “He loves his torture. Why end them?”

“He’s looking for souls,” Zarev replies. “He’s calling spirits to Tressa. It makes sense he would want to steal the ones already here.”

The wind catches my hair, and I glance towards the open windows. It’s cooler than it was back at Legs’ Garden, or even when I came through the flowers. Staring outside, I realize how dark it is.

I rush to the window, looking out. I haven’t had a chance to gaze down at the lights in Tressa since returning, and when I look out the window the friendly glow I always dreamed of visiting is gone.

There are some lights, but not enough for how many buildings pepper the land. Not like the nights I’ve always known when I stared down from my tower.

Pursing my lips, I look back at Zarev as the dread washes over me again. “Do you sense anyone down there?”

“That’s not how it works,” he mutters, and I know I’m asking for things beyond his reach. But a sickening feeling settles in my stomach, and I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

We stand there for many minutes, staring down at the town. I try to will the night to spark to life, for the people who work nights to make noise, or just for the panic that should be within the kingdom to rise up. But things continue on in silence and a reality I can’t face washes over me.

“Do you… do you think they’re dead?”

“Killing an entire kingdom is a lot for one man,” Zarev says slowly, but he doesn’t deny it either. There’s resignation in his eyes when I turn to meet his gaze.

“He has guards and soldiers,” I reply quietly. “The King… my father… wouldn't risk being utterly defenseless before an attack. He has to have a plan to stand against Arthur. The men we saw running earlier must be close to here.”

“And there’s a fleet coming for the crown from Camelot. Midas is a fool if he left the city defenseless for his own selfish needs.”

“Would you be surprised?” I mutter, and Zarev shakes his head. I blow out a breath, staring down at the quiet kingdom for another moment, before turning away. Zarev follows, a constant shadow to my light.

“You’re glowing,” he says again after a moment, and I glance down, taking stock of my body. My hands are warm, and my head feels hot; I thought it was just the rush of tonight but apparently I’m ready for battle.

“We’re going to kill my father. My mother is dead. I can’t calm down.”

And it's true. If the King and Queen both die, Tressa will be without a ruler. The weight should fall to me, but I have no training in running a kingdom and the people don’t know me. There’s a strong chance I wouldn’t be respected or accepted as the next ruler of Tressa. Killing the King might lead to the dissolution of the Kingdom.

As much as I despise the idea, it must be done. We cannot continue this way.

Turning, I resign myself to facing my father head on. I’ve only shifted towards the direction of the throne room when footsteps catch my attention, and panicked, I glance over my shoulder at Zarev.

He touches my shoulder, and we disappear into the dark just as the person rounds the corner. At first I think I’m hearing things because it doesn’t sound like someone in a hurry

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