Rapunzel (Faerie Tale Collection), Page 2

  She screamed and almost did not see the same fate that had befallen her mother until she heard the shout coming from the queen. Rapunzel looked up just in time to watch her mother, in an act of coming to her husband’s aide, harden before her eyes near the king’s throne.

  “No!” Rapunzel stepped toward her father, her mind whirling in a mass of horrid jumbles. Just before she knelt in her court gown near the granite man, her mind became fuzzy, and all went black.

  Her last thought was of the oddness of dark fog that seemed to carry her gently to the floor.

  PRINCE JONATHAN RODE HARD as he made his way into the village of Ellyania. It was late, the darkness long settled in, and it was probably excessively rude to come at such a time, but he did not care. He had to surprise his Rapunzel. It had been much too long away at school and it was still her birthday, if only for an hour. “Come on, Brute,” he encouraged the horse as his heels dug in. “We are almost there, boy.” It had been a tedious ride from the school in the nether region to here, but he made good time. Just two days, instead of the typical three his father was certain it would take.

  He grinned as they rounded the last corner of the small village and began to ascend their way up the well-worn path to the castle.

  Once at Ellyania, he jumped off his horse and whistled for a stable hand to help. When none came, a small fissure of concern washed over him, but he quickly pushed it away. No doubt the men had made themselves merry in the festivities celebrating Rapunzel’s birthday. After all, no one was expecting him. He glanced around the empty courtyard. However, surely someone heard his arrival. “Hello? Is someone there?” Slowly he made his way into the stables. The Ellyanian horses whinnied at his entrance as he made his way to an empty stall, but all else was eerily quiet.

  Was something wrong?

  His heart froze and he glanced up at the large castle through the window nearest him. There were lights on in the east wing. Good. Someone was awake.

  “Prince Jonathan!”

  He turned and saw a man rushing toward him through the door. “Finally! Ronald, good to see you.” He grinned at the now-grown boy who used to accompany him and Rapunzel on their countless rides around the kingdom.

  “Am I glad to see you!” Ronald broke all protocol and hugged him. Tightly.

  “Whoa!” Jonathan chuckled as he removed himself from the stripling’s grasp. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Forgive me. There has been great trouble. And we are all worried.”

  “Trouble?” His heart froze again. “With the family?”

  Ronald nodded, but did not speak. His face scrunched as though he were repelling emotions—fear.

  “My word! What has happened? Tell me everything.”

  Ronald shook his head and took the reins. “I will take care of the horse. It is best you go up and see for yourself.”

  Jonathan grabbed his arm. “Tell me, is it Rapunzel? Is she well?”

  He looked away.

  “Speak to me! What has happened?”

  He glanced briefly at him and then away again. “I cannot say. No one knows for certain. But she is gone.”

  “What?”

  “Go! Go see for yourself.”

  Frustrated and apprehensive, Jonathan did not need another bit of encouragement. He rushed from the stables, and just as he left, he heard Ronald shout behind him.

  “Save them!”

  That was all it took. He sprinted the rest of the way up to the doors, and instead of banging down the front, he went around through the side servants’ entrance he and Rapunzel had always used. “Hello?” he shouted as he headed down the empty corridors.

  Where was everyone?

  As he came into the main hall, he could hear murmuring. A maid scurried from his sight. “You there, halt!” He followed her retreating form. Though she did not stop to acknowledge him, she did lead him toward the throne rooms. He slowed down as she entered the great gold filigreed doors and slipped in behind her. Then he gasped.

  It would seem the whole of the castle was there. As he pushed through the mass of workers and servants, they parted and made way for him. “Prince Jonathan! Is it you? Have you come to save us?”

  “What is the meaning of this?” he asked. “Why are you all in here? And where in the world is Jeffries?”

  “I am here, Your Highness!” The old butler came through the crowd. His hair was askew, clothes rumpled, and the lines on his face were well worn. Jonathan had never before seen the man look a fraction less than perfection. Things were bad indeed.

  He walked over and put an arm around Jeffries’ frail shoulders. “What has happened to Rapunzel?”

  The man shook his head. “I do not know. No one knows where the witch took her.”

  Jonathan paused. “Witch?”

  “That is not the worst—it is not by far the worst. Come, and I will show you. And then I promise to explain everything I can.”

  The man led him to the throne area and then pointed at a stone statue upon the ground. “What is this?” Jonathan asked as he knelt, wondering where in the world the thing came from and why it was lying on its side. “Who brought this here?”

  “Look at it, Your Highness.”

  He studied the features a moment, and his heart went cold. “It looks like the king is in great distress. But why have such an unflattering statue made? I do not understand.” And then it hit him. “Of all that glories! This cannot be! It is the king, is it not? This is what you are showing me! He has been turned to stone.”

  “Yes. And look.” The man pointed up toward the thrones.

  Jonathan choked when he saw the queen. He stood and grasped Jeffries. “Rapunzel! What has happened to her? Is she stone as well?”

  He shook his head. “No, she took her. The witch took her. “

  “You have spoken of this witch. Who is she? What has happened? Out with it, man!”

  “I know only the barest of facts, I assure you. If any of us knew more, we would have given it.” He began to weep. “I will tell you all. All of it. But tomorrow, there are guests arriving for Her Royal Highness’s coming-out ball and our distress shall shortly be known throughout the land. What are we to do? We have no princess. We have no king and queen. Please help us!”

  Jonathan led the butler to a quiet corner and they discussed at great length everything he had managed to gather from the servants who were in attendance at the time it had happened—the witch who was owed a debt that no one had spoken of, where she hailed from, even down to Rapunzel’s name—the name of the plant her father had stolen. It was a sad mess indeed. But one thing was for certain—Jonathan had to get his Rapunzel back, as quickly and as safely as possible.

  “Do you know in which direction the witch left? Has anyone attempted to follow her?”

  “Nay, Your Highness. She simply vanished from this room, taking the sleeping princess with her.”

  Jonathan nodded, barely keeping his rising irritation and fear in check. “Then I will speak to every gardener, stable hand, or outside worker you have. Surely she did not poof into existence when she came. She must have brought some sort of carriage with her. Would she not have wanted to keep her power secreted for as long as possible?”

  “Yes, she did. She came with a carriage and horses, but they disappeared as well.”

  “Then I shall start with her home and see what can be found there, though I doubt she has kept Rapunzel so very close. At least it is somewhere to begin. Until my return, watch over the kingdom, cancel the ball, and tell those who come not to stay here—mention that the royal family has fallen ill. That should do the trick and keep them all away until we can sort this mess out. Meanwhile, please have someone write to my father. Let him know all that has happened and where I am off to. I will write when I can. But have him send reinforcements here—we could use them. As soon as I am ready, I will send for your army’s captain to attend me and anyone my father has sent as well. We will bring her back.” He glanced at the king and queen. “Hopef
ully, there is a way to break their spell as well.” He touched the man’s shoulder. “Do not give up hope. All shall be fine.”

  “Thank you.” The older man brushed at his tears, stood up straight, and fixed his attire. “It is time for me to put on a brave front also. This castle needs me. I will not fail you, Your Highness.”

  Jeffries had always been the greatest of men, but it was not until that moment that Jonathan realized just how truly valiant and loyal a servant could be. “Thank you. Stay strong. I do not lose. Ever.”

  With that, he rushed from the castle into the stables. Collecting Brute, he made his way back into the night, with only a twinge of guilt that his steed had not had much rest. It could not be helped. He had to find her! Now.

  RAPUNZEL’S HEAD BOBBED AS she blinked awake. She moaned and rubbed her temples, and then wondered at the intense cold in the room. Did someone not keep the coals alive during the night? She sat up and winced, wishing she had not risen quite so quickly. A grunt escaped her lips as she attempted to open her eyes again. Good heavens, she had not felt this dreadful for ages. Perhaps she was ill.

  Finally her lids obeyed her and she felt a jolt as she took in the scene of the little room. Where was she? A shot of panic coursed through her. Blinking in confusion, she stared at the beautiful, but small, bed where she lay as if she had been set there on top of the blankets. She shivered and quickly snatched up the folded afghan at the foot of the bed. She placed it around her shoulders like a shawl. There was an elegant table with a washbasin on it, and a small fireplace with a chimney, plenty big to keep the room warm, but no coals. The odd room looked to be smallish and round, but finely decorated.

  Glancing behind her, she found her own personal trunks. She scrambled off the bed and rushed to the smallest one on top. Clutching her shawl closer, she opened the case and was amazed to find her clothes inside. When did she have these packed? What had happened?

  Why was she here?

  Everything seemed fuzzy and so confusing. She placed the first trunk on the ground and quickly opened the second. How did they get here? She could have sworn she had never seen this room before, but it all seemed so familiar, and she was not certain.

  Was she alone? Had she always lived here?

  Why could she not think? Why was everything so frustratingly blank?

  Rapunzel. Her name was Rapunzel.

  These were her clothes.

  She glanced around the little room, and yet she could not remember anything else.

  “Rapunzel!” shouted a voice outside.

  Her eyes traveled to a window she had not noticed before in the only flat-walled area of the room. She opened it and stepped out onto a curved balcony. It was beautiful, and the views to the forest around her were vast and breathtaking. Until she looked down.

  Oh!

  Never had she been so high in her life. She stepped back a few paces and attempted to calm her pattering heart.

  “Rapunzel!”

  She heard the voice again and cautiously made her way to the ledge and looked down, her hands clutching the balcony railing. There below her was Lady Vactryne.

  The witch!

  All at once, everything came flooding back to her mind. Her parents’ turning to stone, the woman coming to get her, the terror, the confusion—everything. She screamed and stumbled backward. Racing around the little room, she searched frantically for a door to get out, and could not find one.

  “Rapunzel! Come here this instant!” the woman shouted.

  “No!”

  She felt her hair yank and pull her back through the opening to the edge of the balcony. “Ow!” she cried and tugged against the hair to relieve the pressure on her scalp, but could not as she was dragged all the way over to peer down at the woman below. “What do you want from me?”

  Her hair lifted and began to unravel itself from its extensive braid. It jerked against her head as it unfurled and straightened in the air above her. Tears stung Rapunzel’s eyes as the sharp pain pierced her tender skin.

  Finally the hair had completely unwound and began to drop about five feet below the window. Then all at once, Rapunzel watched it begin to grow and lengthen until it puddled on the grass at the woman’s feet. Rapunzel could not hold her head up under the new weight. Her eyes were inches from the stone railing as she leaned over the edge and braced herself on the railing. Her hair had always been long, but my goodness! Had anyone ever had hair that reached what looked to be forty feet or so?

  It was so heavy, her head began to throb.

  But the spell was not done. The new, longer hair began to twist and braid itself into a strong rope. “Ahhh!” More tears erupted as she felt the wrenching mass transform beneath her. She had to clutch the balustrade to keep from toppling over.

  Once the rope was formed, the witch shouted, “Put your hair on the hook next to you!”

  “What?” She tried to lift her head, but the bulk of the hair was too strong. “Put it on a hook?” Did she hear that right?

  “Yes! Next to you. Look to your side. It will take the heaviness away so you can stand up straight.”

  Rapunzel slowly craned her neck to first her left side, then her right. The witch was correct. There was indeed a large iron hook protruding from the wall. It was a little above her, about shoulder height, and right where the curved balcony met the tower.

  She slowly began to heave up the hair in sections to lie over the barrier and on the balcony floor near her feet. Once she had gathered enough to make it easier to lift, she secured the braided hair on the hook.

  “Now throw the rest of the rope down to me,” shouted the witch, “so that I may climb up there.”

  Oh, no! What had she done? “No!” Rapunzel snatched the remaining hair and began to drag it up over the balcony, but the witch was faster. With a tug, the whole lot fell back down again, and Lady Vactryne began to climb up.

  Frantically, Rapunzel looked around for something to cut the rope with, something to guarantee that the woman could not make it to her. Her movements were limited to just a few feet forward and backward with her hair on the hook, and there was nothing she could make out within her reach. She even attempted to remove one of the tower stones nearest her in a mad try to protect herself, but none were loose.

  Then, all at once, she caught sight of the washbasin sitting upon the little dresser just out of her reach. Straining with all her might, and yanking a few hardy strands of hair in the process, she barely managed to stretch and wrap her fingers around the handle of the pitcher. In the next instant, her hand was clutching the pretty jug as she allowed her hair to pull her back to the balcony and peered over at the witch making her way up the rope. She was probably only ten feet from the top.

  Without a moment to lose, Rapunzel threw the pitcher. Lady Vactryne shrieked and nearly lost her grip as it hit her face and bounced off to shatter on the ground below.

  In a rage, the woman practically flew up the last of the rope and lunged at Rapunzel. The girl was still trapped, her hair anchored by the hook, as the witch beat her forcefully with her hands.

  “You will never strike me again. Do you understand, Princess?” She spat in Rapunzel’s face as her words hurled out of her livid lips. “You will remember that I own you now! This is your new life, and I will not tolerate insolence again!”

  Rapunzel cowered and attempted to shield herself from the blows of the witch, but it was too much. They were too fast. She muffled her whimpers and prayed the horror would end soon.

  Finally, the fury died down. Rapunzel could hear the woman panting from exertion, but Rapunzel remained curled up, sitting in a ball, her hair stretched tight.

  Lady Vactryne lifted her to her feet and then removed the rope from the hook. She whipped her around to face the hook and said very quietly, “If you so much as attempt to anger me in such a way again, I will place your neck on that hook.”

  Rapunzel swallowed and nodded, her face stinging from the blows. “Forgive me,” she whispered.


  THE WITCH LEFT RAPUNZEL, stepped into the circular room, and sighed. “I do not have to be so angry all the time. We can certainly get along, you and I.”

  Rapunzel backed closer to the wall and watched the woman walk around the place.

  “If you are good, you and I will be good. If you are bad, you and I shall be—” Lady Vactryne looked back and raised a brow. “Very bad. Do you comprehend?”

  Rapunzel nodded her head, but still would not speak.

  “Very well. As long as we understand each other.” She then walked to the fireplace, and with a snap of her fingers, it roared to life with a fresh log. A kettle hung from the brick just a few inches above the flames. The witch turned and snapped her fingers again. The empty area near the bed poofed into a kitchen cupboard brimming with accessories, food, and a charming little table with two chairs nestled near it.

  The room itself seemed to expand to allow for the added items, remaining large and cozy enough for comfort.

  “What do you like to do?” asked the witch.

  “I beg your pardon?” Rapunzel was confused at the sudden change in the woman’s demeanor.

  Lady Vactryne placed a long-fingered hand on her hip. “Do? What is it you like to do? How do you occupy your time?”

  “Oh! Um . . .” Rapunzel glanced around the room, not certain why this was a necessary question, but afraid to anger the woman. “I love to ride my horse and explore and enjoy the outdoors.”

  The witch snarled. “Inside. What do you prefer to do on rainy days when you cannot explore?”

  Rapunzel blinked. She loved riding out on rainy days as well. “Uh, read, I suppose. I love to read. And play simple games, watercolor, sew a bit.” She shrugged. Those were all things her mother wished she would do more, but apart from reading, there were too many other fascinating things to do elsewhere.

  “Very well.” The woman nodded. “What do you like to read?”

  “Oh, anything. Facts, adventures, history, science.”