But I’d told Rapunzel to be brave. Perhaps I should take my own advice.
“I’m going to prepare the potion,” I said. “It will take some time.”
I stood and made my way to the massive bookshelf cluttered with journals, jars, and potions. Most of them had belonged to my mother. She’d collected every possible spellcasting item on the planet.
I searched the leather-bound journals lining the stacks until I found the one I needed. Pulling out my mother’s chronicle of spells, I carried the thin book to the table and placed it on the wooden top. After opening it, I leafed through the inked pages. The smell of the well-worn paper brought back memories of my mother, who’d written on these pages as I’d stood clutching her skirts, listening to the scratching of the quilled pen.
When I found the spell I needed, I perused the ingredients. Water from a Nymph’s pool, dried thyme and rosemary, ground bones from a viper, dragon eye, the gallbladder of a horned mountain frog, oil of lilac, and a drop of the potion maker’s blood. A scrawled note stood out at the bottom of the page, but the ink had blurred, and reading it was impossible. Despite that, the ingredients were common enough, and I was fairly certain I had them all. Scanning the shelves, I searched for the items. Glass jars clinked as I rifled through them, then placed the bottles and jars on the table.
Grabbing my mortar and pestle, I began adding the dried herbs.
Raj sat on Rapunzel’s bed, telling her a story of the Outerlands, which included a starving dog, a skinny boy—which I assumed was himself—and a leg of lamb. Rapunzel actually laughed as he got to the punchline, surprising me. I hadn’t heard her genuinely laugh in ages.
I crushed dried thyme and rosemary, then poured it into a beaker filled with ground bones. After adding a pinch of lilac, I grabbed the jar of dragon eyes.
Behind me, Raj unsheathed his sword and let Rapunzel hold it. Her eyes lit up as she touched the blade.
“Careful,” I called over my shoulder.
“She won’t stab me,” Raj called. “Will you, Rapunzel?”
“It’s a real sword?” she asked
“Very real. I’ve vanquished many foes with it.”
“You killed people?”
“Only the ones who tried to kill me first.”
“Killing is bad,” she said.
“Yes. It’s very bad.” His voice held a hint of sadness, almost undetectable, but I heard it. How many people had died in his life? It dawned on me that it must have been a lot—there weren’t many Outlanders left in the world. How had he managed to survive? I was curious to know how he’d left his lands to become the prince’s squire, but those were questions I didn’t feel comfortable asking.
I didn’t feel comfortable with a lot of things around him. He made me feel self-conscious, and made my stomach feel flighty. It wasn’t a bad feeling—I rather liked it—but how would I feel questing with him—sleeping, eating, and changing clothes. Bathing.
Bother. This was going to be a difficult quest.
Turning back to my potions, I concentrated on adding the last ingredient—my blood. I pricked my finger with a needle, squeezed it, then allowed a drop of blood to drip into the concoction.
The liquid fizzed as my blood interacted with it, causing a cloud of blue magic to emanate from the potion. Lavender, iron, and less pleasant smells wafted from the bowl. I would have worried about the taste, but this was Rapunzel drinking it. Couldn’t be worse than eating rats. I grabbed a wooden tumbler from the cabinet and poured the potion inside.
Carefully, I lifted the tumbler and walked toward the bed. When I reached her side, she took it from me, sniffed it, and wrinkled her nose.
“You’re sure that won’t kill her?” Raj asked.
“Positive.” I hoped.
She took a small sip.
“Bleh,” she whispered, then drained it. She sat looking at me and Raj, her eyes wide and dark. I was reminded of the girl she used to be, intelligent and beautiful, so much potential.
“When I wake,” she whispered, “I will be fixed? My mind…” She blinked slowly. “My mind will be well?”
“Yes.” I took the tumbler from her, then squeezed her hand. “You will be well. Once you wake up, you’ll be yourself again.”
Magic gathered around her as the spell worked through her veins. Her eyes closed.
“You promise?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“I promise,” I said, praying it wasn’t a lie.
4
Rapunzel slept, the magic creating a bluish glow around her body. With her face relaxed, she looked at peace. I hadn’t seen her that way in ages.
“Will she be okay?” Raj asked.
“She should be. The spell will keep her from starving. Technically, she could sleep for a hundred years and be okay.”
“Let’s hope she doesn’t have to.”
Raj looked from Rapunzel to the prince, who still lay atop a coil of hair. “What about him?”
I stood and crossed to the prince. “This spell is different from the sleeping potion. He’ll last two weeks—three weeks tops.”
My cat, Jester, jumped down from the top of the bookshelf, startling me. The cat had a habit of scaring me. He meowed as Raj and I stood over the prince. His sleek black coat resembled a panther. Yellow eyes peered up at us. He yawned, then walked to the prince, sniffed him, and sat on his chest.
“Will you watch over Rapunzel and the prince while we’re gone?”
Raj shot me a confused glance. “You’re asking the cat to guard them?”
“Jester is very protective.” I knelt and scratched the cat’s ears, hoping the animal got the hint.
“You won’t do anything stupid, right?” My whispered voice hissed through my teeth. Jester was an idiot. If they survived, it would be a miracle, but Raj didn’t need to know that.
Purring, Jester nudged my hand, and I felt obligated to pet him. Maybe he’d understood me; maybe he would watch over the prince and Rapunzel like I’d asked. Sure, he was only a cat,
