Page 65 of Down from the Tower

But I don’t know where. I’ve only just learned about the rest of Mystica, and Zarev is busy turning my brain to mush with all the details he’s decided to share. It takes me a few moments of going over the timeline again before I can figure out what to say next.

“You were born before the Rise of the Reapers?” I try to remember everything that page said. The entry stuck out to me, since Zarev constantly calls himself a Reaper of Death.

He nods. “I was a child when I was bit by the wolf, and a halfbreed for twenty years after that. I died sometime after my thirtieth birthday, but again, time was blending together by that point. I think I was thirty-three before then. It’s hard to remember exactly how old I was before death.”

I stare down again, my hands fisting the fabric of my dress. “And… do you know how long ago that was?”

“Hmm… about a decade. I haven’t aged, like the rest of the Reapers, but those around us do. Why do you think Ray has sixteen siblings? He’s a little younger than I am, about thirty when he died, but Thomas is thirty-one now.”

My eyes widen, thinking of Dahlia. “But, his mom doesn’t look-”

“Dahlia lives an interesting life,” he interrupts. “She operates one of the most popular taverns in the land. People give you things when they like what you offer, and the care and service at The Missing Shoe is unmatched.”

I try to take it all in, but I know I’m going to quickly start forgetting things. Scrubbing a hand over my eyes, I groan. “I can’t even remember what started this. I know I didn’t ask if you were a wolf-”

“Werewolf,” he interrupts, shrugging when I peek out behind my fingers. “If you want to be technical. But then I died, and the bloodlust more or less vanished with it. I don’t have to hunt, I rarely eat. Death changes things.”

Yes, I suppose it does. “You were telling me about… the Flowerborne.”

“Ah. They come from the Butterfly Garden, it’s labeled that way on most maps. But really, it’s Leg’s Garden, since she’s the head gardener and no one across Mystia will question her care for the plants.”

“Even these Flowerborne?” My time in that gingerbread house feels so long ago, and being in Tressa even longer. It’s amazing how different I feel now that I’m not suffocating beneath my parents' scrutiny.

“The Flowerborne are the way they are because of the poisoned earth,” he reminds me. “The gardener's job is to craft the prettiest flowers, specifically roses, for the Queen’s gardens in court. She tends to them in the gardens of the Red Woods, and they are transferred to the court when the Queen demands something new. The Flowerborne continue to happen because Legs the gardener can’t stop working for the Queen. She chooses to live over controlling wild plants that run out of the Red Woods anyway. It’s difficult when most of the Flowerborne would like to escape. The two we met in the woods were an anomaly. Most can’t adapt the way they did, and cooking up people to eat the bits they deem worthy is a unique approach. I haven’t seen a plant masquerading as a witch before.”

I nod, my brain going numb. I don’t think I can take in much more at this point.

Like he can sense my confusion, Zarev nods and beckons someone over. It’s Elsie, who looks between us with knitted brows. “Get her another drink. Mead.”

She scoffs. “Am I going to get yelled at for getting the princess drunk?”

“No,” he replies sternly, and after shooting me an unreadable look, Elsie turns back towards the kitchens.

I finger the book again, exhaustion creeping over me. My world isn’t just unraveling, it’s being torn apart. Things that I thought were always real are being thrown into question.

Zarev pats my hand, drawing my gaze once more. “Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to learn a lifetime of history in one night.”

17 Rapunzel

A full week at the tavern makes me think I’ve never really lived. I’m selfishly holding Zarev hostage in the room each night so we can tease in that maddening way, and Dahlia shoots us a bemused grin each time she sees us in the morning. She doesn’t ask anything about our nights together, but I do know that she seems elated that Zarev’s attached himself to anyone.

People know what we’re up to. Zarev unhelpfully told me how thin the walls are, and the shadows don’t block out sound when he’s using them to fill me. I’m embarrassed the first two days when Ray and half his siblings make little jokes about it, but they all quickly taper off. By the end of the first week, there’s a pattern to each day that Zarev and I follow. It’s almost… comforting.

I haven’t seen Modred since I woke, and according to my Reaper he has no idea where the spirit went. I can’t say I’m sad, and maybe when Raymundo took care of reaping the souls from the gingerbread house he got rid of Modred as well. But Zarev was there, and I think he’d recall that detail.

A week bleeds into two. I wait for there to be news at the tavern about Tressa, but the kingdom is oddly silent. I haven’t seen the guards I expected, or heard about any retaliation from Camelot for killing the King’s nephew.

It’s like it never happened, or the royals are trying to keep it that way.

Zarev gets antsy the longer we are here. Apparently two Reapers staying in the same place for so long can cause problems, and while I get where he is coming from I’m not really sure what he wants me to do about it. I have no idea what to do from here, and everytime someone asks if I’m returning to Tressa, I blanch.

What should I say? My father likely accused me of starting a fire and killing Modred and whoever else? I ran off with a Reaper who stood against Midas and now I might be an enemy of the crown? All options sound bad and until I absolutely have to decide, I’m putting it off.

I just don’t know what to say. I don’t have the answers people seek.

The time at The Missing Shoe lets me read the entirety of the traveler’s book. No one needs it for the time being, though Dahlia occasionally asks if I have questions. She’s a kindly older woman, and I wish my mother was half this loving. She checks on me more than anyone in the castle did, except perhaps my poor cat.

I really hope Cheshie is okay. If carrying a palace cat through Mystica wasn’t such a cumbersome idea, I would’ve tried to bring my feline. But that could’ve caused a number of issues, and Cheshie was always good about hiding in the castle.

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