Page 124 of Down from the Tower

“They’ll be back soon,” Genny says, coming to sit beside me. Her mother has been awfully busy the last few days, between the soldiers stomping through and the rush of people either running towards Tressa or away. I’ve watched too many people pass through, only a portion of them even realizing who I am.

Some ask for a wish like I’m a genie. Others run in fear, and Zarev usually glares at them until they leave the tavern entirely. One tried to cut some of my hair the first morning we were here, and Zarev sent him through the wall. He got the pleasure of helping Thomas and Ray replace it afterwards.

For all the power they wield, the Reapers live normal lives. When I asked him about Ban and Lucius yesterday, his gaze darkened.

“I told you. Ban is usually northwest, in the Frostlands. He doesn’t reach out often. Lucius has his own troubles in the Palace of Thorns. He can’t leave, and yet he has villagers who depend on the charity of his family. His parents have long since passed. The kingdom lies in his care. He has the smallest domain since the Mad Court and Wonderland are just north of his Kingdom. Unless we go on a long journey, we won’t see them for a while.”

I caught his wrist, my eyes pleading with him. “The Palace of Thorns. I’m guessing that’s near the Field of Thorns?”

“It is.”

“Like the one the Mad Queen mentioned?”

He blew out a breath. “I don’t know if it’s the same place, or if everything she said was a lie. I haven’t been to the Palace of Thorns since the thorn hedge grew so tall and strong it became impenetrable. You can only access it if you sail from the harbor or fly over. But I never saw a girl who looked like you, or heard Lucius mention someone being brought to the castle.”

“But she said-”

“We’ll go to the palace someday soon and see for ourselves,” he says tiredly, and it does nothing to stifle my curiosity. “For now, I need to deal with Tressa. And you should grieve.”

His reprimand still burns. I don’t need to grieve. My parents were monsters who couldn’t see their errors in judgment for the betrayals they really were. I’m burning in rage, trying to sort out my feelings. I’m not simpering around the tavern, crying to anyone who listens. I’d rather keep my lips sealed.

“They better be,” I say after a moment, and Genny glances my way. Her fingers twist, her brow pinched in concentration, and a small spiral of air dances across her fingertips. She’s trying to gain more control of her gift.

I hope it works for her. She will be truly stunning when she figures out how to make the air bend to her whim.

“You’ll get used to the Reapers,” she goes on, propping her chin against her hand. “My brother is gone so often, I’m used to just seeing him in short spurts. Did you know he was up towards the Frostlands not long ago? And he went to The Barrens just before we met you, casing the perimeter.”

I rub at my brows, trying to remember all the things Zarev told me about Mystica. “Raymundo… he’s supposed to take care of the west?”

“Southwest,” Genny replies. “Mostly Ravens Wood and Swan Lake. The King and Queen there are kind, but I’ve heard they have a lot of problems.”

She taps her other hand nervously against the table, and I raise a brow at her. I could use some boring Mystica gossip to tide me over until Zarev is back this evening. “What kind of problems?”

Pressing her lips together, she hesitates a moment before leaning forward, dropping her hand and dispelling the air. Her red-brown hair falls forward around her face, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, the princess? They say she was bitten by a beast.”

“A beast,” I reply, frowning. “What kind of beast?”

“Well, Zarev told you about the Flowerborne, didn’t he?” When I nod she places her hands on the tabletop, leaning in closer. “See, when animals eat the Flowerborne it can curse them. The dark magic twists their insides until they become something entirely new. That happened a lot, I guess, some years ago, especially when no one really knew what a Flowerborne was. They got more popular when the flowers were escaping the Red Woods, and people killed them at random. You’re supposed to burn the bodies, too, so if something does try to eat them, the magic is gone.”

I blink. Zarev didn’t explain that part, but it was inconsequential when I was more curious about his reaping abilities and Modred. “That’s… morbid.”

Genny nods her head eagerly. “Well, the King and Queen down in Swan Lake were very kind to their daughter. They allowed her to interact with the townspeople and she learned about her land. There’s a story that one day the princess went out with a potential suitor, and they strayed from the path. Something attacked them in Ravens Wood, killing her suitor and injuring the princess.”

My eyes widen, and I scoot a little closer. “So is it true?”

“Hard to say,” she admits. “The princess went into hiding after that. Not your type of hiding, but three moons passed before anyone saw her again. She was a teenager by then, ripe for a marriage, and she should’ve seen more suitors. But the royals closed their doors and she stopped seeing potential husbands. When she did come back out, she had thick bangs that hung over one eye and she wore these pretty dresses, with billowy sleeves and a hem that swept the ground. It covered most of her skin, even in summer.”

That sounded horrendous. Midas and Dorah made me presentable, but other than Arthur’s bold attempt, I never really saw anyone who proposed marriage. Midas wanted to keep me in the castle by his side, where I was easiest to control. Marriage would have changed that. “And now?”

“Now,” Genny continues, folding her hands. “She still wears the dresses. Her father, King Leonadro? Ray knows him fairly well since they’re in his domain. He sort of knows the princess, too, but even though she isn’t locked in a tower like you were, she doesn’t go outside much.”

A memory flashes through my mind of the great white swan crashing into us in the forest, Zarev trying to call out to the creature as it fled. He called it Odette. “Does she have mismatched eyes?”

Genny blinks. “I have no idea. No one has ever really mentioned her eyes. She has these big, thick layers in her hair and long bangs. The only thing Ray ever said about her eyes was she acted like she was trying not to see.”

I nod, slipping the detail away.

“There’s another secret, too,” she whispers, her voice so soft that I almost can’t hear her. “About Swan Lake.”

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