Page 98 of Down from the Tower

Catching myself on my hands as I fall forward, I gasp for breath and will myself to stop dry heaving as the world spins. The journey leaves my head ringing, almost worse than when the spirits started screaming.

I need to get up. If someone spots me I won’t be able to sneak in anywhere to talk to Dorah or Midas. And if I see them together, they will back each other’s lies. I’m sure of it.

I will myself to listen to reason, dragging myself away from the flowers and over to the hidden shadows behind a tree. I’m sure Zarev would complain that I didn’t cover my tracks, but the fact that I haven’t been sick yet is a good sign. I don’t know if I’ll ever be used to traveling like that.

Shadow hopping is one thing, but I’m not sure I can stomach doing that again.

Groaning, I listen through the trees and try to get a hold of myself. I’m not sure how long I lay there trying to figure out the next step, but a soft meowing makes me jump.

I look around, trying to pick apart shapes in the shadows, before soft fur brushes against me. My shoulders relax as I sit up, running my hand over his back. “Cheshie.”

My cat purrs, and guilt builds in my chest over my abandonment of him. I hope he had free reign to come outside while I was locked away, and they didn’t cast him out because I was missing. Grabbing him around the middle, I hold him close and bury my face into his pink and purple fur.

A sob tries to escape, and I swallow it down as he continues to curl against me. Of everyone in the castle, he’s the only one that would truly miss me for me. When I’m finished here, I can’t leave him again. I should’ve brought him with me all along. Even if he stayed back at the tavern in Sherwood, I’d be less afraid of someone hurting him there than I am of one of my parents getting tired of him prowling around.

He scratches at the back of my hand, making me hiss and I set him down again. He glances back and darts across the garden, leaving me in the dark. I blink, watching as he pauses across the way in the dimming light, looking back at me.

Cheshie’s never cared if I followed him or not. Most days I think he prefers to spend his time alone. In all these years I’ve never seen him wait for me to follow.

I’m reading into this way too much, but flowery mimics did try to eat me the other day. It’s no weirder that my cat wants to show me something. At worst, he just plans to meander until he finds a spot to nap, and I can get back to it.

In the back of my mind as I chase him across the yard, I know I’m stalling.

He’s fast for how lazy he acts, darting from the lawn towards the castle. The first thing I think I’m going to change about myself when I have time to breathe is to forgo dresses. I’m close to tearing off the skirts as I labor behind him.

Who in their right mind decided women on epic quests don’t deserve pants?

I never intended on going back to the castle like this, especially not without Zarev. But waiting could have taken too long, and as much as I’ve learned to despise my parents, the kingdom doesn’t deserve to suffer for their poor, selfish choices.

Cheshie slips through a propped open door and I slow my steps, my hair wrapped around my arm so it doesn’t snag as I move. Rushing around is leaving me winded, and I miss the ease of hopping through shadows with Zarev.

My cat is having the first athletic moment of his life, and I almost start to think this is payback for leaving him. Or maybe I’m just avoiding my problems by playing with Cheshie. We climb three long flights of stairs to my parents' floor before I simply can’t go on, leaning heavily against the wall.

“Cheshie,” I gasp, panting as I slide down to sit. I can’t risk being here long, but there’s little spots in my vision so I need to take a breather. “I’m glad you’ve got your own personal workout routine, but I can’t keep running.”

He meows, pouncing backward to look at me. I scratch his head as he leans into me, purring contentedly. I’ve successfully run around the castle like a loon, avoiding the guards who are probably with Midas preparing for the onslaught of spirits approaching the kingdom, but I’ve accomplished nothing.

Sharp footsteps startle me and, panicked, I reach blindly behind me for the nearest door. The only good thing about living in a castle this size is there are many unused rooms. The door clicks and I scramble backward, hiding inside and shutting the door as quickly as I can.

I realize I’ve picked a closet when I reach back and hit the wall. Cheshie is quiet in my arms, and I shift around to kneel.

“I can’t believe you haven’t located her yet. Midas says he can feel her presence so Rapunzel is in the castle. Stop wasting time and find my daughter!”

“Of course, my Queen.” Two voices answer simultaneously and I’m surprised to realize that I recognize them. It’s Anastaia and Priscilla. Even without seeing them I recognize the lack of care in their voices, the monotone tempo that they both always speak in.

“If the city wasn’t under siege I would send the two of you to the gallows like that wicked stepsister of yours,” she growls, and there’s poison in Mother’s voice that I thought was only reserved for me.

My thoughts drift to Legs’ story and I clench my hands together. My mother did some wicked things and I have no question in my mind that whoever Cindy was, she died just like Gothel Tremaine.

“I expect the two of you to be able to corral her without incident,” Mother continues.

“What about her hair,” Priscilla asks, her voice a little more naselly than Anastasia’s. “Or that new burning power? I don’t want my face burned off.”

The echoing slap resonates with me, and I can hear Anastasia gasping just after. “Speak back to me again, wench, and I’ll hit your baby sister harder.”

I scowl. She’s smacking Anastasia around for Priscilla being herself. That sounds exactly like what I expect from the Queen.

There’s a bit of shuffling, then the sounds of retreating footsteps before the sharp clip of heels on the stone floor returns to me. I wait until the sound fades into the distance, Cheshie squeezed to my chest, and hold my breath when I peek out.

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