Page 89 of Down from the Tower

My eyes widen, looking towards the broken wings once more.

“They were already damaged, and she laughed when I screamed. Margo was out working, too far to help. I kept trying to send the magic to attack her, the flowers coming to my aid, and she picked up my book I’d left outside and whacked me in the head with it. By the time I came to, she was gone.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say immediately, reaching out to touch her hand. She’s cool to the touch, tilting her head at our joined hands. I pull back just as quickly, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s perfectly alright. But most are disturbed by my features, and they grow uncomfortable touching my clammy skin or seeing my lost legs and broken wings. Their insecurities become my problem, even if I’m confident with myself.”

I nod, trying to find comfort in her words. But there’s no comfort to be found right now, not with my mind running wild. “So she - Gothel - stole the flowers and took them back to Tressa?”

“It appears so,” she replies, lifting her hand to the top of my head. “And to see the power transferred to a person is truly remarkable. Probably inhumane, but remarkable.”

“Why inhumane?”

“People who are born without magic aren’t always meant to come into it,” she explains. “Magic is an extension of ourselves and with such a powerful parent, sometimes the genes skip the next generation. I believe Midas wanted absolute certainty that his offspring would carry some type of gift. Although, I must agree with you. I’ve only heard rumors of the one princess in Tressa. I’ve never heard of two.”

But Gothel had, and she seemed to envy the fact. “I haven’t either.”

She pats my hand, smiling wider when I don’t flinch. “Some questions cannot be answered by an outside source. The only people who can give you answers about your heritage are the people who birthed you. If you did have a sibling once, they’ve gone someplace you can’t find in the years since.”

I don’t want to think about it. There’s enough change in my life lately and adding a lost sibling is out of the question. Licking my lips, I take another sip of tea and relish in the familiar taste. Her blend isn’t as heavy as the one Dorah favors, and I can’t quite put my finger on the difference. “Do you think my magic is rejuvenated by the tea?”

Legs shrugs. “Perhaps. If it came from something to do with the leaves it’s possible.”

“This tastes familiar,” I continue, following the train of thought before I forget all about it. “I’ve learned my magic reaches farther than I ever knew. I was always taught that my gift could reverse age, but when I met Zarev I learned I can burn and melt things too. My hair glows whenever I use my magic, warming my scalp, but my hands are starting to heat up too. I can heal, not just reverse someone’s age. I keep trying to get Zarev to let me heal these wounds in his chest, but he claims it’s a lost cause.”

“This is new?”

I shrug. “I never knew about it before.”

She purses her lips thoughtfully. “The flowers were stolen. Midas may not know the extent of what the magic can do. But healing and burning are on the opposite ends of the spectrum. It would be hard on your body to handle great surges of either power.”

“I have noticed that,” I admit. “I get tired if I use too much magic, and I have a much better handle on reversing age than I do anything else. I only learned of the healing magic because I tried on Zarev when Midas shot in with gold.”

Legs slams her hands on the table, startling me. “He was shot?!”

I hold up my hands. “An attack from my father. It was directed at me and Zarev got in the way. The gold embedded in his skin. I’ve tried to heal him but the gold returns every time. It’s suppressing his magic. Maybe I don’t have the skill to heal him fully.”

But Legs shakes her head, leaning back in the chair. “No. Zarev is half-alive. He heals remarkably well. If he’s still suffering from the injury, it’s not a normal one. Midas has a supernatural touch, and his powers might not know what to do with a body that feels pain but heals on its own.”

Too many questions still swirl in my head. “So, Gothel went back to the tavern at some point after dropping off the flowers?”

“It would seem so. Do you know anything about her daughters? If she’s missing-”

“No,” I interrupt, “she’s dead. I heard the sisters talking about it from time to time. I remember the name Gothel. I never knew she was my father’s mistress back then.”

Even as I say the words, I can’t help wondering if Midas did it. He didn’t return her feelings, so removing her as a problem might be the simplest solution. I almost feel bad for Anastasia and Priscilla, but they’ve never been kind to me. Maybe that’s why.

Legs reaches over, giving my wrist a squeeze. “Did you really come here all the way across the lands to talk to me about flowers?”

“We came because of the letters. Zarev says there are more Flowerborne around, and there were troops of Arthur’s walking in Sherwood towards Tressa. Something is happening and we’re in the dark. I needed answers on these letters and how they connect to me, and learning that you believe these magical roses are responsible for my hair is a good thing. I’ve never had anything to pinpoint the cause to.”

“It would be more than that,” she says gently. “I’m drinking the tea and won’t have any of your abilities after this. You’re something special, Rapunzel. You can’t attribute all of that to a flower.”

I frown. She has a point, but I don’t think Midas’ powers are hereditary. Dorah doesn’t have magic as far as I can tell, so wherever these abilities came from has to be because of the plant.

But there’s still pieces of the puzzle missing. There’s a missing heir to Tressa in the wind, and I need to know if the child ever existed, and what happened back then.

She offers me a soft smile as my thoughts mix together. “Remember, Princess, you’re on this side of the wall now. Midas built that wall decades ago, and I’m willing to bet only he can break it down. Just because troops are moving across Mystica doesn’t guarantee that your kingdom will be sieged. Do you plan on going back?”

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