“Yes. These are Varlocke’s men.”
“But… why?”
“Because they cannot enter the tower, so they’re attempting to destroy it instead. Varlocke no longer cares for the life of his daughter, but because of the spell, he cannot enter the tower. The tower’s magic keeps it safe from the fire for now, but it cannot last much longer.”
“How is that possible? He never had any trouble entering the tower before.”
“No, but you cast a spell on Rapunzel, did you not?”
“It was only a sleeping spell.”
“It was more than that. It was the spell given from one kindred spirit to another. Plus, you used your own life’s blood in the potion, didn’t you?”
I nodded.
“That spell was more powerful than you realized. It not only affected Rapunzel, but the tower itself, and the forest surrounding it. Even the plants and stones will protect Rapunzel now. The high sorcerer knows this, which is why he’s burning the forest to get to her. He believes he can no longer let her live. If she were to marry, her husband would be able to take his place as ruler. He will kill his only offspring to make sure that never happens.”
“We have to do something.”
“Yes, you must get to the tower as soon as possible, use the shears to cut the princess’s hair, and free her from the tower before it’s destroyed.”
“But what about the foretelling of the prince saving the princess and killing the witch. That’s me, isn’t it?”
“True, it is you. Don’t worry. Avoiding a foretelling is easier than you think. You only need to alter the people it speaks of. You must simply kill the prince before he kills you.”
I choked. “Kill him? I could never do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a good person.”
Her eyes darkened. “There is no such thing as a good person. Everyone has darkness inside. You’d do well to learn that. Once he frees Rapunzel, you must kill him without hesitation or he will kill you.”
“I refuse to do that.”
She eyed me, her gaze calculating. “Have you grown fond of this prince?”
“I…” My cheeks grew red.
“You have, haven’t you?”
I took a deep breath. “I suppose there’s no point in denying it, though to be truthful, I don’t know what love is. I’m sure I don’t love him, not the way you loved Father.”
“Well, this does complicate matters, doesn’t it? Do not worry over foretellings, child. I may not be a believer in the goodness of our kind, but I do believe in kindness and love. If you are meant to be with him, old soothsayings will never stand in your way. Be brave. You will survive if the goddess wills it.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, about the business of these shears. I will do what I can to help, although not all will turn out as you like.”
“Why?”
She shook her head. “I can tell you no more than that.” Voices came from overhead. “We must hurry,” she said.
I followed her back up the stairs. My friends waited at the top, and their eyes widened as they spotted my mother walking along with me.
“Who is this?” Raj demanded.
“This is Aethel. My mother,” I answered.
“You said she was dead.”
“Yes, she died but was reborn.”
“How does such a thing happen?” Drekken asked.
“Because I am a fey creature of magic,” Mother said. “My body indeed died in Varlocke’s castle, but I was restored in this place. Unfortunately, I can never leave. But I can help you.”
“What reason do you have for helping us?” Raj asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “Because I hate Varlocke. I will do whatever it takes to see him dead.”
Yes, this was my mother. There was no denying it now.
“How will you help us?” Raj asked.
“For starters, I will give you these.” She held her hands out, palms up. A white glow encompassed her skin, and a narrow object formed, sparkling with golden light. When the brilliance faded, I stared in awe at a pair of golden shears sitting atop my mother’s outstretched hands.
“I can’t believe it,” I gasped. “Are these really the magical shears?”
“Yes, the very ones. But I will warn you—my sisters will know as soon you remove these from this archive. Escaping with this talisman will not be easy.”
“Can’t you help us?”
“I will do what I can, though my powers are not as strong as my sisters’.”
I stepped closer to my mom and ran my hands over the magic-crafted metal. They looked no different than an ordinary pair of shears, and even had a bit of rust around the tips of the blades, but a faint golden glow warmed my hands as I touched the metal.
“This is an ancient object—created at the time of our world’s birth, an object used by the gods themselves.”
“As long as they cut Rapunzel’s hair, I don’t care who made them,” I muttered.
Mother raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply as she handed the shears to me. “Treat them with care.”
I took them from her. They felt surprisingly light in my hands, and the metal warmed my skin. Quickly, I stuffed them into my bag.
“Now we’ve got to escape,” Odette said. “And we’ll have to do it quickly.”
“I understand,” Mother said. “I can show you a secret passageway, but there is no guarantee we’ll make it out unscathed.”
We followed my mother through the archive room and to a small wooden door. She turned the latch and opened the door, and we followed her into a narrow hallway.
We stopped inside a large, open tower that led us to a crystal staircase. Our footsteps reverberated as we paced down the stairs. On the bottom floor, we entered a domed room with ice sculptures crowding the floor. All kinds of beasts had been carved from the ice, and I worried walking so near them would make them wake. But perhaps I’d been reading too many of my mother’s fairy stories.
It amazed me that she was here—alive. I had trouble realizing it was really her. Perhaps I should have been more excited, but her
