Page 110 of Down from the Tower

Back in his feline form my cat says nothing, sitting near a tree on the far side of the clearing. He's too far off to try and read his eyes, but the small, feline head tilts to one side as he observes. When she speaks again, her eerie voice filling the clearing, she snags my full attention once more. “The taste of Death is rich in the air.”

Theo, typically proud, is now genuflecting deeply, his head bowed to the ground. Midas reacts in an opposite manner, standing tall and maintaining eye contact. “My Queen.”

She huffs, glaring down her nose at him as she stamps her foot. It seems such a childish reaction, something a Queen wouldn't do, I almost think I made it up. When she does it a second time I realize it’s real.

Instead of recognizing Midas, the Mad Queen turns her gaze to the man on the ground. Theo doesn’t lift his head, which is probably a wise choice. “Rabbit. I see you still have no concept of time anymore.”

He whimpers on the ground, and she shakes her head and looks past him before clapping her hands, looking oddly joyful. “And Cyrus! Still a pussy I see.”

My cat hisses back, causing her to laugh. “The two of you, you’ve been such bad boys! I’ll deal with you in just a moment.”

The Queen’s eyes skate over the clearing, and for a moment they pause where we are hiding before moving on. Zarev lets out an audible breath.

Finally her gaze turns to Midas, who makes the most noise of everyone in the clearing. Despite being the King, he’s reduced to a beggar at this moment, his tunic soaked and hands wet as he uses both his cursed and his normal hand to scoop handfuls of water into his mouth, the excess dribbling out to soak his beard.

He doesn’t stop, despite the people that rose from the fountain. His golden crown sits at an angle on his head and the grays in his golden hair appear more prominent than ever before. Never in my life have I seen my father like this. He’s usually regal and refined, keeping his nose turned up to most everyone and refusing to ever look a fool. When Arthur would come to port, he always ensured everyone put on the best front they could to make Tressa seem like an untouched gem.

There doesn't appear to be a shred of the cruel king left. He’s drinking from the fountain like a madman, and his standards are nowhere to be found.

“Midas!” She booms, jumping up and down as she cries out his name. I’m surprised how loud her voice gets, flinching at the tone. Zarev tenses, and I almost worry that he’s going to drag us to safety before we learn anything at all. “Oh, Midas!”

My father still refuses to stop, continuing to drink from his hands. There’s a frenzied air to his movements, like drinking the water is a compulsion, and he continues to ignore her.

The Mad Queen scoffs. “Arthur did say that you’re out of touch these days. The Golden King in his Golden Age! How about this: I’ll give you a golden grave!”

Midas pauses long enough to try and catch his breath, and when his eyes turn to her I swear his expression speaks of nothing but true terror. “Arthur is a traitor.”

“Oh, you finally realized that, did you,” she coos, beginning to pace around the space. I expect her to treat this meeting like my father would, cordial and cold until she gets what she wants, controlling the whole exchange. “All heads roll in favor of the Queen! Arthur wants to keep his head on his scrawny neck so, off with the Golden King’s head!”

Every time I think the Queen is going to say something reasonable and normal, she spins it on its head. Her way of talking is bizarre, but I can’t stop listening either.

Midas’ hands shake, but he doesn’t return to drinking. “You think you can best me? I have the power of an unbreakable element on my side. You have no power here.”

The Queen snorts, turning to raise her brows at him. “I don’t, do I? Is that the reason I can enter through the looking glass so easily, despite you trying to cover the connection all these years?” She jumps on those tall heels, her balance never faltering as she continues to move around the clearing. “Oh no! You have an unbreakable element! It’s almost like I can control your heart…”

Her voice trails off as she shakes a finger, and Zarev shifts forward as he hisses a breath. It’s like he’s waiting to see something, but the Queen doesn’t actually show anything in her hands. My rage simmers just below the surface, but like my Reaper I hesitate to do anything.

If Zarev fears the Mad Queen, he also appears just as curious as I am about her, and I can’t help wondering if it’s insanity or evil that keeps him fixated. Since she killed him, I expect fear, but my Reaper doesn’t even flinch as he stares, his grip remaining firm on my arm to keep me from rushing into the clearing.

Midas snarls, fisting his hands as I look over again. “I have done everything to keep my Kingdom free of your reign.”

“Like poisoning the water? That’s creative, Midas, I’ll give you that. But adding bits of gold to the water that nourishes your people? It’s so morbid I’m surprised I didn’t think of that! Sucking your people dry for your own needs is such a Wonderland thing to do! I’m almost proud of you, Golden King.”

She laughs, throwing her head back as she continues to pace around the clearing, and it’s enough to send Theo’s cowardly self back to the ground, his whole form trying to disappear into the earth as he cowers. The four men who traveled through with her take up positions around the clearing, and Cyrus darts away before the one with a diamond reaches him. The man doesn’t move to follow, but another with the clover stands beside Theo and kicks him in the side.

The Queen doesn’t even acknowledge the attack. “It really is twisted, dear Midas. Killing all the citizens of your kingdom just to give yourself more power and a feeble chance to live? That’s cruel.”

He bares his teeth, and her words bang around in my head. There can’t possibly be truth to them. My father is insane, but killing everyone is Tressa is simply impossible.

“It will be worth the sacrifice.”

“To watch them die?” she asks, flashing him a grin. “Selfish choices feel the best, don’t they? The magic surge is everything, Midas! Everything! Souls make the sweetest treat when you steal them, hmm?”

Growling, Midas stands. My father’s never looked weak before, but with a wet shirt and his crown crooked on his head he looks pathetic against the large-as-life queen standing opposite him. “I do what I must to protect my family.”

“Family,” she mocks, cocking her head. “The family you pieced together? One living princess with hair so gold that is chasing a Reaper of old! Oh, Midas. Your family is as broken as your mind.”

“Rapunzel knows her place,” he says confidently, and I bristle at the certainty in his words. “She will come home once she sees that Tressa reigns supreme. She might be wandering, but soon we will all be together again.”

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