Prince of the Tower (Wings and Whispers Book 1)

1. Go Camping, They Said…

If there was one thing I hated on this stupid planet, it was spiders. Actually, as of last night, I hated two things; spiders and camping. As luck would have it, those two seemed to go hand in hand.

Squinting, I peered into the shadowy depths of the cave, nerves jangling in anticipation of a many-legged, hairy monstrosity crawling out of the depths of hell. Nothing stirred, but that was no guarantee. Where spiders were concerned, it was always wise to play it safe.

As for camping, it had seemed a good idea at the time; a fun way to spend a weekend with friends, relaxing and drinking away the stresses of the last few weeks of university. And, best of all, cheap. I’d spent the last five years counting pennies as I slogged my way through veterinary school, but now, it was finally over. Graduation loomed, and then I’d be able to get a real job, earn real money, and take a real holiday. Until then, roughing it in a field was the best I could do, and with every passing hour, I regretted that decision more and more.

After a horrendous night of flapping canvas and freezing damp, followed by a brutally early start and several hours of hiking, my darkest fears were realised. The so-called Fairy Glen, the apparent highlight of our trip, was nothing more than a stagnant pond and a few dark, smelly caves. Judging by the stench of piss radiating from one damp side cavern, the glen was also home to a local tramp.

I toyed with my necklace, rubbing the pad of my thumb over the sharp point of the golden initial. A sideways A for Aliza. A character from my favourite show had worn one just like it, and for the first time in my life, I’d been glad of the unique spelling of my name when Mum and Dad had bought me the very same necklace for my twenty-first birthday. I wore it every day. Not only was it pretty and unusual, but it gave me something to fiddle with when I was nervous, like now.

“I bet you wish you were still in the tent, moisturising all that leg,” my best friend Abby drawled from where she perched on a large rock, glancing at my tanned legs which were barely covered by my scandalously skimpy denim shorts.

She knew me well enough to know I’d actually rather drain a dog’s anal glands without gloves than go into that cave. I knew her well enough to know she felt the same, even if she had chosen a different discipline and would never suffer the stench of a dog’s bottom. She would suffer the stench of the cave though. If I had to go in, I wouldn’t go alone.

Missing the point entirely, Isobel said, “She had to make sure she looked gorgeous for the fairy prince. The legend says that he’ll marry the woman who wakes him.”

My smile became fixed. If Abby was my favourite of our group of friends, Isobel was the one I barely tolerated. She was okay most of the time; a bit over-enthusiastic, a bit weird, maybe, but okay. Even if she did believe in things the rest of the population gave up around the age of seven. This weekend, she was a firm believer in fairies, which was why I’d been roped into going on this hike, to visit some magical glen. She’d spent the weekend talking non-stop about some fairy prince trapped under a sleeping curse, and that was why I could only bare my teeth at her.

“Since when have I ever done anything to impress a man, prince or not?” Never. That was the answer, unless you counted my dad, and I knew he’d be far from pleased if he could see the tiny shorts I was wearing.

I had no hope of impressing anyone today. Not even imaginary men. Not even with my long legs displayed in all their glory.

Abby hauled herself to her feet, groaning. “I reckon you’ll meet a nice man in your new practice, and then you’ll change your tune.”

“No chance,” I said with confidence, tossing my ponytail over my shoulder in a whirl of colour. Most men didn’t like my hair, bleached and dyed to an ombre rainbow of pastel shades. I happened to like my hair better than I liked the idea of a serious relationship. “I’ve got better things to think about, like my next holiday, which will absolutely not be in a field in the middle of nowhere.”

“You mean you’re not enjoying getting blisters and sweating your tits off?” Abby whispered slyly, so only I could hear.

My answering grimace told her all she needed to know, and she gave a wicked chuckle. She always laughed like a villain, which was ironic, because she was five foot nothing and the least scary person I knew. She looked as though a strong breeze might blow her away. I always felt like a hulking beast next to her, a full foot taller, and far from delicate, but when we’d met on our first day in high school, we’d clicked immediately, and been best friends ever since. If it hadn’t been for her, I might have loaded myself up into my battered old car and driven home at two this morning, rather than spend another minute in the wild. I’d been seriously tempted, but Abby and I were sharing a blow-up bed, and she’d have been terrified on her own. Besides, her regular jokes and dry comments through the long hours of survival had made it worthwhile. Almost.

Isobel had already disappeared into the largest cave, staring around in awe as she faded into the dark. Abby and I hovered at the mouth of the cave. Her expression was a picture of disgust and apprehension; I guessed it was a mirror to my own face.

“Are we going in, or not?” she muttered in an uncharacteristically small voice. My friend was usually loud, the life of the party. Maybe she shared my concerns about the whole thing crashing down on our heads and burying us alive, second only to my fear of getting a spider in my hair.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said optimistically, as though I needed talking out of it.

What I could see of the cave floor was basically one giant puddle, and the air radiating from within was stale and stinking. At least this one didn’t smell of piss, only mould and damp. I lifted my eyes to the cave roof. There wasn’t much to see, dark as it was, but I was willing to bet my life there were spiders up there. The overall effect was unappealing. Had we really walked all this way to see this? I glanced at my watch. It was way past lunchtime, and the falafel wrap in my backpack was calling my name. My stomach grumbled. The sooner we went in, the sooner we’d be back in the sunshine, sprawled on the grass, stuffing our faces.

I heaved a sigh. “Come on, let’s get it over with. If we don’t go in, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

I had no doubt that Isobel would set up camp in the cave, refusing to come out until each of us had been suitably awed and expressed our burning desire to wed the fairy prince. The longer we waited outside, the longer we dragged out our own suffering.

Abby went first, the brave little soul. I followed her wine-red ponytail, grimacing as the soles of my boots sank into what I hoped, with every atom of my being, was only water. Before the summer was out, I’d be dealing with all manner of bodily fluids, but that didn’t mean I wanted to wade through human piss while I was on my holidays.

Our sloshing footsteps echoed around the cave walls, but other than that, neither of us made a sound as we followed the narrowing walls deeper into the cave. My eyes remained fixed firmly on Abby. The last thing I wanted to see was a spider creeping down the wall or dangling from a thread. My skin prickled at the thought, warning me to back out into the sunshine before I was assaulted by a hideous beast, but Isobel wasn’t far ahead.

I could do this.

No doubt alerted by our wet footsteps, she called, “Isn’t it amazing? It makes you wonder, doesn’t it? How many people have been here before us, looking for the doorway in the legend?”

“I don’t know,” Abby replied doubtfully. “I was thinking more along the lines of what must have inspired the story in the first place. I mean, this place doesn’t exactly scream fairyland. I can’t imagine fairies living here.”

“They didn’t live here,” Isobel explained. “This is just the gateway. They live on the other side.”

“Personally,” I cut in, raising my voice enough to carry as we closed the remaining distance, “I can’t imagine fairies living anywhere. You know, because they don’t exist?”

A beam of light whipped in my direction, scorching my retinas.

“Oh! Sorry, Aliza,” Isobel chuckled. “You scared me.”

She lowered her torch, leaving me blind and blinking. The urge to snatch it from her hands, throw it to the ground and stamp on it repeatedly was almost overwhelming. God, I needed sleep. And food. I usually had enough patience to tolerate her, but today, I was struggling. I took a few deep breaths of air fragranced with stagnant water, and forced a smile onto my face, just in case anyone was watching.

“Found anything interesting?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Isobel proved me wrong, though. Apparently, she’d seen all kinds of mystical crap. I should have known better. I let her words wash over me and retrieved my own torch from my bag. It was darker than expected inside this god-forsaken hole, and the last thing I needed was to slip and have to walk back to the site covered in cave slime. The campsite showers were simply not up to such tasks. I’d even avoided washing my hair, instead dousing my pride and joy in dry shampoo and tying the pastel lengths into a ponytail.

Isobel was still waffling on about nonsense when I flicked my torch to life, directing the beam carefully at the floor. I didn’t want to see what lurked above my head. Ignorance was bliss. Sadly, there was no ignoring Isobel’s outfit. My torch illuminated scuffed boots, similar to my own, but clearly well used, whereas mine were fresh out of the box, an extravagance I couldn’t really afford. That wasn’t the worst of it. She wore khaki green waterproof trousers, if that was the right word for such shapeless sacks of cloth, and a bobbled, zip-up fleece in the most hideous shade of orange I’d ever seen. She looked like someone who enjoyed this sort of outdoorsy stuff. A crazy person, which was exactly what she was. There was no other explanation for this horrendous trip, which had been her bright idea. Apparently, she came from a family of avid campers. I was no human doctor, but I didn’t think there was a cure for that.

Unable to stand another moment of such a crime against fashion, I set off deeper into the cave, leaving Isobel and her orange fleece behind. I picked my way between the puddles, avoiding a particularly nasty patch of uneven rock. The dark stone stretched ahead of me, beyond my little sphere of light. With every step, I was convinced the back wall of the caves would emerge from the shadows, but it never did. How big was this place? And was it my imagination, or was the ground beginning to slant down? The last thing I wanted was to end up lost in some underground cavern. In fact, I didn’t want any of this. I wanted to be back outside, with the breeze stirring my ponytail and the mild sunshine warming my skin. What better accessory for my graduation gown than a good tan? My belly flipped in apprehension and excitement at the thought. I was going to be a vet. Even after five years of study, I still couldn’t quite believe it. I couldn’t wait for Mum and Dad to see me graduate. As an only child, the responsibility of making them proud fell squarely on my shoulders. It had seemed like a burden at times, one I wasn’t strong or clever enough to carry, but now, I was glad that I would have all the glory. It would be worth all the work and stress to see their faces on the day, if nothing else.

Maybe it was some strange desire to be the first to find the end of this god-forsaken warren, or maybe I wasn’t as clever as I thought I was, but I didn’t turn back. My wet footsteps echoed off the cave walls as I took step after step after step. The voices of my friends grew fainter, an indiscernible murmur. The air grew cold. I shivered in the chill, and as I did, my torch flickered.

Weird. It was borrowed from my dad, and he’d ensured it was in full working order before I’d left, dithering and fussing over every tent peg and battery pack.

The beam sputtered again. I gave it a whack against my palm, and light flared bright again. Maybe a battery was loose.

I continued my walk of madness. The walls pressed in closer, the cave growing narrower the deeper in I went. I’d have to give up soon. I had no desire to become wedged and have to be cut free by the fire brigade. Most of the firefighters I’d seen were getting on in years and balding. They never lived up to the fantasy, and frankly, it just wasn’t worth the humiliation or horror.

My skin prickled again, and I paused to sweep my hand over my itching neck. I would not think about spiders.

My torch gave out, plunging me into pitch darkness.

“Shit,” I hissed, slapping it again. Nothing happened, not even a flicker of light. Not even a spark.

I whacked it harder, my sense of panic building rapidly. How was I supposed to find my way out if I couldn’t even see my own body? If I shouted for the others, would I cause the ceiling to collapse on top of me?

Whack, whack, whack. My palm began to sting. My heart began to race. What was I thinking? Why had I ventured so far in, alone? I didn’t even want to be here. I had to get out. My eyes stretched wide in an attempt to drink in any scrap of light, but the darkness was complete, pressing against my eyeballs. My breath grew louder, my chest rising and falling in a rapid dance.

My first blind step was faltering, unsteady. Spiders be damned. They were the least of my concerns. I stretched my hand out, reaching for the walls I couldn’t see. My fingers found nothing. That was a good thing, or so I told myself. The passage was narrow and I’d turned around, so as long as I didn’t hit a wall, I had to be going in the right direction.

My lungs sucked in shallow, noisy breaths. My muscles tensed up, telling me to run. I fought against all of it, determined to keep my head. If I gave in to fear, I’d break my ankle, and then I’d be stuck in here for hours. That couldn’t happen. I couldn’t be trapped here in the dark with unseen spiders inching closer.

I concentrated on my feet, on placing one in front of the other, carefully navigating the hidden, uneven rock. A puddle seeped into my boot, soaking my sock, but I didn’t care. I’d walk home barefoot if that was what it took. The sound of rushing water echoed on the cave walls, and it occurred to me that I couldn’t hear anything but that and my own breathing. No voices, muffled or otherwise. Not even Isobel’s droning. I fell still, my already straining eyes beginning to sting. A warm wet tear spilled down my cheek.

“Abby?” I called, as loudly as I dared. My voice shook and squeaked. “Isobel?”

There was no answer. My knees began to quake.

“Hello?” A hysterical note worked itself into my voice. “Abby? Where are you?”

Nothing. Only silence, and my rasping breath, growing more desperate with every passing second.

Fuck it all.

I stumbled into a run, my boots slipping on wet stone. Rock thudded against my shoulder, sending me careening off course. My feet fought to steady me, scrambling and sliding, but all at once, they whipped out from under me. A yelp burst from my throat as my bottom collided with cold, unforgiving rock, but I didn’t stop there. The ground swept downwards, a slick, sharp slide into blind darkness. Stone skinned the backs of my bare legs and cracked against my elbows as my arms flailed, searching for purchase. My screams echoed back to me, as though a hundred idiots were falling into the same pit. Somehow, I flipped onto my belly, accelerating rapidly, feet first. My nails cracked and tore as I scrambled for a hold. Something sliced my chin, clacking my teeth together hard enough to vibrate through my skull.

The unyielding rock beneath me disappeared as suddenly as it had crashed into me, and with the roar of running water filling my ears, I was in freefall. There was nothing but rushing air on all sides. I flailed in the empty air, but even then, I knew it was hopeless. Any moment now I would splatter on the rocks.

I didn’t want to die in these horrible caves. I didn’t want to die at all.

With my ears full of my own deafening screams, I plunged into icy water. It engulfed me, rushing down my throat, swallowing me whole in its awful, crushing dark.