Page 61 of Turret

She shoved me aside so forcefully I stumbled to the hard ground with a thud, landing on some of the broken shards. They cut me in several places and my blood pooled, the pain sharp. I only spared a moment to extract the sharp pieces before I scrambled back to my feet.

Mother had already returned her hand to the wall, but the tower had barely begun quivering again when I once more pushed her draining powers away. Her expression hardened.

“Gemma.” Her tone was like ice. “You will stand aside. I will not tolerate your interference.”

“I refuse to stand by and allow you to steal what’s not yours in order to create destruction.” Despite my attempt to be brave, my voice shook.

Her responding laugh was humorless. “I cut off my magic when you stood in my way simply because you’re my daughter, but if you don’t back down, I won’t allow such a thing to stop me should you continue to intentionally get in my way.” Her eyes narrowed. “Consider this a warning, Gemmadear: if you insist on thwarting my attempts to drain the tower of its magic, then I will be left with no other choice but to drain you as well. Have I made myself clear?”

My breath caught. What would happen if Mother turned her powers on me? For a moment I stood numb, paralyzed with fear. Yet my terror didn’t change the fact that I was a princess. I knew what I had to do.

I gathered my bravery close, armor for the battle ahead. “I cannot allow you to do this. It is my duty as a princess of Malvagaria to do all in my power to help my subjects and those beyond our borders…no matter the personal cost.”

For a long moment she simply stared at me in disbelief, for I’d never lived up to my full strength as a princess or possessed enough courage or strength of will to stand up to her…until now.

Eventually her shock faded and she shrugged. “Very well, if that is your choice.”

She lifted her hand, but when I remained unmoving she hesitated, as if giving me another chance to escape. I remained in front of the tower wall, my gaze level with hers. After another moment, determination eclipsed her uncertainty. She cradled her scarlet magic and rested her hand on the tower wall next to me.

I felt its power the moment she touched the stones I stood in front like a shield—an invasive draining power that immediately left me exhausted as it robbed me of my energy. But I barely had a moment to register its effect before the tower suddenly quivered to life.

At first I thought the feeling was evidence that Mother had succeeded in bringing the tower’s buried magic to the surface to more easily steal it, but this sensation was different, stronger. It vibrated not only through the wall I stood in front of but throughout the room. It rippled over every surface, pulsing with life and power, as if awakening from a very deep sleep. The stronger it grew, the less I felt my energy slipping away.

Suddenly a light, brighter than the sun, appeared to enfold me in an embrace before surrounding the room. Mother let out a cry as her powers deflected from this force, bouncing off the broken mirrors and scattered glass shards to hit her, drain her…and yet she didn’t withdraw her magic, whether out of foolish determination or because she was unable to, I wasn’t sure.

What was happening? As if being surrounded by the tower’s glistening power connected me to its thoughts, I’d no sooner wondered this than I understood: Mother really had enchanted the tower to protect me…and the moment her magic had turned against me, she’d triggered this protective spell, which shielded me from her magic to deflect back onto her.

She was being defeated by her own spell.

As if finally this herself, Mother at last cut off her magic and collapsed, and the light gradually slipped away. Mother lay curled on the floor, breathing hard, before turning her disbelieving fury onto me.

I stared. Her cold beauty had faded, leaving wrinkles marring her previously youthful skin and grey streaking her black hair. Her powers had likely been sustaining her youth and beauty, and without them…she was left as she really was.

“What—how—” She could barely speak through her exhausted, frustrated breaths.

“The tower is enchanted to protect me,” I said. “Surely you remember. After all, it was your own spell.” One that I had no doubt had become strengthened the deeper my relationship with the tower had grown. “The moment your magic began to drain me, the protective enchantment acted as a shield to deflect the magic…onto you.”

She heaved a frustrated growl, but her defeat was short-lived before her smirk returned. “The tower might have drained my reserves…but this isn’t all the power in my possession. There is more within my garden back at the palace.” She shakily stood, groping for the wall to steady herself. “I have just enough to return the tower home,” she panted, “where I’ll have access to all my plants, which will allow me to resume my plans without further hinderance.”

“I thought that secret garden was always locked,” I stuttered. “Without the key—”

Her cold laugh cut me off. “Gemma, darling, surely you realize that with my powers, nothing is locked to me. As the dowager queen, I merely have to command the gate to open. I merely kept it locked to keep it from prying eyes.”

She lifted her hands and the tower immediately shook, and with each one I sensed it moving a vast distance. The force caused me to stumble and fall to the glass-covered floor.

My fear returned, crowding out the peace that had come from the tower’s protection. I’d heard many whispers about Mother’s secret garden over the years, where all sorts of dark plants grew—it was buried deep within the palace’s enchanted grounds. If she accessed them…surely nothing would stop her.

The tower eventually stilled and Mother slumped, exhausted. Whereas before her hair and face had only been streaked with age, now it was almost entirely grey, her back hunched, and her face wrinkled, as if she were quite elderly. Moving the tower had required a steep price. But though she was clearly drained, her dark eyes held a gleam of anticipated triumph, as if she’d already won.

She stood as upright as she could and turned…only to stop short with a horrified gasp as she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the broken mirrors. She shrieked and her hands flew to her wrinkled face. “My beauty? Where has it gone?” She swiveled to face me. “You!You did this! But you haven’t won yet.”

She lifted her hand, now shriveled with age, and the door reappeared at her touch. She exited the room, brushing past Quinn and Melina, who stood just outside, undoubtedly attempting to find a way into the room to rescue me.

I had no chance to follow Mother before I was swept into Quinn’s tight, almost suffocating embrace. “Gemma! Are you alright? What happened?”

Now was definitely not the time to explain. “My mother—”

Quinn’s unseeing gaze snapped in the direction of her receding footsteps, no longer the confident click of her heels I was used to but a much slower pace, weak yet still purposeful. He swore. “That vile, horrible—”

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