Page 9 of Down from the Tower

The two men glance at each other, and I can feel their judgment from here. The older man tries again. “Do you need us to go get one of your parents-”

“That’ll be all,” she says, forcing a smile. “Thank you, Theo, Michael.” She nods to them in turn, and they exchange a glance.

“Of course, your majesty,” the old one, Theo, says. Michael doesn’t speak, turning briskly on his heel. There’s a girl waiting in the hall, peeking from behind the door as she tries to smooth down her messy hair.

“Priscilla,” he breathes, but the two disappear too quickly to listen more.

Theo stays a moment, studying Rapunzel. “Are you sure everything is alright?”

Her eyes dart to me and away again, and Theo tracks the movement. “Yes. I just got a little worked up while dreaming.”

He nods slowly. “I will let your parents know today was too much for you.”

“No,” she squeaks. “No, it’s perfectly alright. No need to trouble the King and Queen.”

“But Princess,” he says, his voice turning from concern to mockery, “it’s my job.”

He spins, slamming the door behind him. I listen as bolts slide back into place, effectively locking the princess inside again.

I saw them when I came up to the tower, but I didn’t think it was all that serious. I wanted to observe the setup for Tressa’s golden flower, but they keep her under lock and key.

She growls, turning to slam the brush into the dresser. It’s ornate, and the brush head breaks off, leaving a jagged point. “You, shadow man, you’re going to make me insane.”

Spinning without warning, she charges me. I lift my brows, watching as she charges with determination in her eyes, her long hair flying all around her.

Rapunzel slams into me, the broken point of the brush sliding into my chest. I can’t really feel it, but I watch as the jagged glass pierces my chest, breaking through my tunic and puncturing the skin.

It sinks, deeper than it would on a normal man. The determination in her eyes morphs from anger to surprise to fear as the makeshift shank continues to sink into me.

When her fist touches my chest, I reach out to grip her arm. The fear turns to terror, and the little color she has in her cheeks vanishes. I lean into her space, watching her nose crinkle as she looks between me and the broken stake.

“Princess, you can’t kill Death.”

3 Rapunzel

I stabbed a man.

I’m still stabbing a man.

Why isn’t the man I stabbed bleeding?

His words wash over me, confusing and troubling. His hand is surprisingly warm despite the coldness in his eyes, and it takes several moments to register his words.

“Did… did you say Death?”

He nods, tugging my arm back. I feel the resistance of his skin give, watching in horror as the makeshift stake withdraws from him -

It comes out tipped in black. Not red like blood but black like…

Like shadows.

I yelp, dropping the shard as the black tipped wood vibrates before the inky black lifts off the stake, floating midair. My jaw falls open, watching as the black - as the shadows - morph back into the darkness that surrounds him.

This is no ordinary man. I’m not certain he’s a man at all. Tearing my arm from him, he lets go without a fight. I grip over the spot his hand touched, scrambling back and nearly tripping over my own hair.

He watches wordlessly, those hypnotic red-orange eyes watching my every move. He’s terrifying and interesting at the same time, which means he’s twice as dangerous.

I narrow my eyes, forcing my chin up even when I feel my body starting to tremble. “Leave, or I’ll yell for the guards again.”

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