13 Rapunzel
When the world brightens outside of the cave, I think we might start over and not be so hostile as we travel. Unfortunately, he’s in an awful mood first thing in the morning. After tossing the water pouch at me, he puts out the fire and gets us ready to travel.
But he is out of his mind if he thinks I’m going to keep stripping off the layers. I gave up the bottom few inches of my skirts just fine, but the corset is another matter.
His brow twitches as he watches me, using part of the fabric of my dress to bind his chest where Midas’ gold struck him. He’s partially cleaned our mixed blood off his skin, the spades on his hands as strange as ever to observe. He doesn’t exactly look better in the morning light, but he doesn’t look worse, either.
Well, he doesn’t at first. But when the light catches his tanned skin, bits of gold shine beneath the bandage. My jaw falls open, realizing the gold he was working at last night is back, and it looks like the same amount of marks are in his skin again.
It doesn’t make a lot of sense. I saw him digging out the gold, forcing the black blood to bubble up as he did it. I’ve already tried to offer to heal him, but he’s resistant. I need to eat something, and we have a lot of walking ahead to wherever he’s planning on taking me. My energy is down, and as much as I’d like to help, he’s against it. I have the whole day to try and change his mind, but avoiding my help out of stubbornness is a little ridiculous.
“You need to be free to move while walking through the forest,” he snaps, brushing his dark hair from his face. It snaps me out of my thoughts and back to the current problem. His red-orange eyes are more alive today, somewhat reminding me of last night when he jumped awake and attacked me. His shirt is gone, shredded from the gold, and I’m not sure if he tried to salvage any fabric or not. The cloak partially covers him, but he’s still mostly bare from the waist up aside from the bad binding across his pecs.
And now he wants me to remove my corset. People will get wild ideas if they see us walking around. Or worse, if they just see me. I’ve already started walking around barefoot, and I can hear my mother's judgmental voice for every little move I make.
“You know people will think I’ve gone mad,” I argue, crossing my arms over the bodice. I can’t remove it on my own as is, and letting Zarev undress me feels like kicking the line of decency completely off a cliff. It makes me think all too much about his hands grabbing the front and ripping it open. “I can’t run through the forest-”
“Sherwood-”
“-through Sherwood half naked!”
His eyes rake over me, making my blush, and my legs snap together. The breeze is nice when it blows beneath my skirt, cooling my legs considerably, but it’s going to work against me when night comes. At least my feet don’t hurt anymore since Zarev suggested I heal them with my new gift.
Or my old gift. I suppose it depends how you look at it.
“You’re still dressed modestly enough,” he replies with a shrug. “This isn’t your father’s castle, and the woods aren’t as strict as a Kingdom. You will blend in fine. Better, in fact, since you won’t be flaunting your wealth with that golden top.”
I glance down. The material is soft gold, not a curse from Midas but simply thread spun into the gold. I eye it before glancing at the gauzy layers beneath.
I know I’ll breathe better if I take it off, it’s just so far out of my comfort zone…
He’s already pinned me down, and I liked it. I need hard lines to keep my head on straight.
Zarev waits, crossing his arms as he taps his foot. I bite my lip, eyeing him before clutching the dress again. “I don’t want to look… easy out here.”
“Princess, people can see me too. All I have to do is not hide behind the shadows.You won’t look out of place in Sherwood. There’s killer flowers, mimics, beastly wolves and shifters, not to mention the ogres. You fit in fine. Even if someone did try something with you, I imagine you could melt another face off and get away.”
I flinch at the reminder, but he does have a point. I don’t really know how to control it, but maybe if I felt like I was in danger I could activate these powers again.
Modred’s been missing all morning. When I woke up Zarev was already putting out the fire and collecting his things, but he denied sending the spirit on into the afterlife. I’m not sure how that works, but I imagine it’s something I’d notice since I can apparently see the dead.
That’s another thing that’s too freaky to think about. I never noticed that people were dead before, but now I don’t know what to make of it.
Swallowing, I give a sharp nod. “Okay, fine. You may have a point. But you need to undo the corset.”
He twirls a finger. “Spin around.”
My hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, and I distract myself by combining my fingers through the tangles to work on a braid. It works for all of a minute before I feel Zarev’s touch on my back.
My spine stiffens, then arches at the touch. His hands are still warm, something I’m beginning to think never changes with him. His touch is strong as I feel his palms glide down my back before the straps of the corset pull tighter, making me drop my hair with a gasp.
“I have to undo the tie to loosen this,” he explains, his breath on my ear. It sends shivers down my spine, and it finally snaps into place that I’m letting this man undress me in the woods.
All alone.
He’s back to pulling on the corset, and my mind scatters. There’s another moment of tension before it loosens, and I take a deep breath when my ribs no longer feel like they are being squeezed to death.
He makes quick work of the rest of it, deftly pulling the straps and loosening it up. When it’s loose enough to pull free from me he grabs both sides before pulling it from my skin, and on instinct my hands reach up to cover my chest. He’s at my back, and there’s fabric in the way to keep him from seeing everything, but I still can’t help the embarrassment.
His chuckle is deep, and when his chin brushes against my shoulder I gasp. “No hiding now, Princess. You’ll need those hands at the ready in case something jumps out.”
His heat lingers at my back, and before I can overthink it I step back into his embrace. He doesn’t pull away, the stubble along his jaw scraping lightly over my skin. It makes my breath hitch, my hands clenching over my chest.
I feel his tongue dart out, licking the sweat along my neck, and I whimper at his touch. “You’re wound so tight, Princess. This isn’t your father’s court. We aren’t playing games for the masses. You have a freedom out here in the world that you wouldn’t find in Tressa. Enjoy it.”
My heart slams in my chest, his words sounding all too real. He has a point that none of this could happen back home, even in the tower. Here I’ll find freedom to be myself, no matter how short lived my time out here is.
I don’t know if I’ll go back to my tower, or even Tressa, but right now, there’s a world of choices around us.
And my first choice is to give into Zarev, because I need to feel his frightening touch again.
Arching back, he hisses against my skin. I swallow my fears, letting a carefree version of myself blossom. This could be my only chance while I’m outside the walls. “You teased me with your shadows once. Show me that again.”
All at once, I feel the ghostly grip as the shadows bloom from nowhere, the gray-black wisps twisting around in front of me. They brush along my thighs, some buckling over my feet to pin me in place. I gasp when they wrap around my middle, spinning me much too fast to face him, the shadows at my feet twisting to allow me to bend to his whim.
Facing him, our closeness is all too real. I gasp when he leans in, forehead pressed to mine, his shadows tightening all around me. “Last chance to take that back, Princess.”
I grit my teeth, willing my hands to heat and remind him that I have power too. But at the last moment, Modred’s melting face pops into my head and I grab my braid and throw it around his waist instead.
I don’t expect much, not with how loose my head feels today. But my hair is strong, and it whips around Zarev fast enough that I can grasp it on the other side, and I drag him closer to me until there’s no space left.
He growls, his lips brushing mine when he speaks. “I knew you had a dark side to that sunshine.”
His lips slant against mine, and I fight to lift onto my toes and deeper the kiss. He tastes like smoke does when it brushes your lips, the scent of the woods a part of him as we kiss.
While I have to keep my hands in place, the shadows let him explore. One of his real hands fists around my throat, and I moan against his mouth at the pressure, his other arm moving to grab my leg, pulling us backward into the nearest tree. My back hits first, the shadows shifting to cushion the feel of bark behind me, and his hips snap into mine.
My head flies back, a gruntle moan slipping from my lips. Zarev is so different from the two men I’ve bedded before, and it makes me want more of him.
His lips find my throat, biting and kissing at the skin. I feel little pokes as he devours me, and I think of the razor-sharp teeth I saw last night.
I should pull back and use some common sense. But he feels too good, and my pussy is wet enough I’m sure he could take me right here and I’d gladly bend over. I’m not usually this free, but when Death is ready to fuck you, there isn’t a whole lot to fear finding you.
The soft, sinful feel of the shadows skates up my legs, like being caressed by darkness itself. I gasp when I feel them brushing at the apex of my thighs, one long wisp brushing over my center when Zarev grinds against me.
He chuckles darkly in my ear, making my body throb with need. “You know the benefit of playing with the dark, Golden Girl? The shadows let me fill any hole I want.”
I shriek, his lips finding mine to swallow the noise when I feel his shadow magic pulling my legs further apart, one daring shadow shifting to feel more like a cock, and the strange, exhilarating pressure pushes inside me.
It pulses, opening me wider, and I scrape my nails up and down his arms, forgetting all about holding him in place with my hair.
He releases my lips again to speak. “If you think I can’t fill every hole of yours to watch you fuck my shadows, you’re in for a surprise, Princess.”
My eyes widen at the thought, and when he grins, those teeth are sharpened again. I want them back on my skin, to feel the thrill of what he could do to me, the dangerous game I want to play with the embodiment of death -
Zarev’s shadows stop pulsing inside me, his neck snapping to one side, his hand coming to slam over my lips. His red-orange eyes glance all around us, and I can’t help wondering what he senses that I can’t.
I look past him, hoping to get some idea of what’s going on, when my eyes land on the missing spirit from last night. I clamp my leg tighter to Zarev when I realize Modred is watching us in the trees, but the Reaper's attention is focused elsewhere.
Squirming, it takes several more moments for Zarev to unfreeze. The shadows teasing me pull back, the one pulsing inside me leaving me unsatisfied as he abandons the task. Zarev sets me down without acknowledging Modred, tugging at the neckline of my shift and smoothing out my hair.
“It’s not safe to play here,” he grumbles, still looking out into the dense trees over my head. “It’s too easy to be attacked here. We must move.”
He sets me down, pushing my dress in place before releasing me. His eyes snap to Modred, who only looks angry as he watches. He adjusts my top again, refusing to look away from the spirit.
“He’s being a creep,” Zarev says, shaking his head as he turns back to grasp my chin to tilt my gaze upward. I meet his eyes, and they are oddly stormy. “Do not be embarrassed around me, Princess, or by what others think when they watch you. You’re safe so long as we stay together in Sherwood.”
I lick my lips, trying to push all my depraved thoughts from my mind. He’s worked me up, and I can feel the hardness of his cock through his clothes. I hate that he’s stopping because of me, but if there is something out in the woods, getting killed isn’t going to help us.
“We should get moving then,” I say briskly, sliding out from beneath his arm. I smooth my skirts, trying to seem unaffected by the sudden shift. “You should tell me what to watch for out here. I wouldn’t want to be misled.”
Zarev raises a brow, and I’m sure he catches my underlying meaning. With a roll of his eyes he adjusts his pants, kicking my corset away with his boot. I scowl at that, glaring up at him. “Everything.”
“That’s too vague. Give me things to watch out for.”
He looks towards Modred again, but the spirit isn’t coming any closer and my Reaper doesn’t seem interested in going to get him. “Flowers that are too tall. People who act strange. Everything, Princess. There’s a lot of thieving and horror that takes place in Sherwood close to the border of Ravens Wood, and the further north you travel towards The Barrens and the Red Woods, the paths become more and more dangerous.”
“I don’t know those places,” I remind him, just as he begins to walk. I sigh and stoop down, unwilling to part with my corset in case I need it later, and snag my shoes as Zarev passes them.
“Just stay with me. Lots of monsters travel through Sherwood, and trying to describe all of them to you will just get confusing. Hopefully we can manage to stay together for two days without separating.”
There it is, the question of what to do next floating in the air between us. “Where are you taking me?”
“The Missing Shoe, of course,” he replies, raising a brow as we walk. I wouldn’t call this a path, but it’s a bit clearer than some of the openings between the trees. “It’s a tavern that Dahlia owns. You’ll meet her, she’s a kind woman. Her children help her run the place. It’s a common stop for refugees and travelers alike. The place is pretty much always full.”
“And you think it’s a good idea for me to go there,” I ask, surprised. “Won’t I stick out?”
“How,” he replies, his blade appearing in his hand. It wasn’t on him when he was playing with me at the tree, and I assume his shadow magic lets him call it back to his person when needed. “No one knows what the princess of Tressa looks like. You’re rumored at best. Keep that hair tied up, don’t make it glow and you’ll blend right in.”
“And what should I do after that?” I breathe, unsure where this is going. “I’m not a member of Sherwood. I don’t know who to speak with or what to do outside of the tower. You can’t just leave me there.”
“No one said I was leaving you. Dahlia is an old friend of mine. Her son and I are very close. He’s another Reaper.”
My footsteps falter. “He is?”
“Yes, Raymundo. He might meet us in about a day and a half. He’s traveling faster than we are, but he was out working when I spoke to him last night. If he arrives we can shadow hop the rest of the way to the tavern and avoid running into anyone else.”
“Shadow hop?”
He nods. “I can’t with this damnable gold in my chest. It returned even though I carved it out, which means it was already deeper inside me than I realized. It’s keeping me from healing fast, so I don’t have enough magic right now to zip us over there. If anything happens, I need to be able to fight. Shadow hopping will sap my energy and we could both be badly hurt.”
I swallow. “And… Modred?”
“His soul can keep stalking us until I’m able to reap him. Or if he’s loitering once Ray arrives, he can deal with it. For now, Modred is harmless.”
“How do you know when he’s dangerous?”
Zarev raises an eyebrow, and I almost regret the question. “Well, you killed him, didn’t you? Once hate manifests, he’ll try to kill the person who ended him. Once that happens, I’ll have to reap his soul no matter what. We can’t have a spirit killing the girl who gifts life, now can we?”
Zarev can last a lot longer than I can without nourishment. I drink down most of our water again, and I still don’t know when we had time to fill it up since last night. When my stomach growls barely an hour after we started walking, he shoots me a sideways glance. “We can pick some berries soon.”
I glance at him. We’ve walked all morning, the rocks and sticks making the soles of my feet ache again. If they didn’t make me bleed I would just shove the shoes back on. I’m sweating as we move, and Zarev adamantly refuses to carry the corset or shoes that I refused to leave behind. It’s not a lot to carry, but I’m feeling fatigued far too soon for us to make a lot of progress.
The only time he helped was when I braided my hair. It’s a little easier to deal this way, but the dress fabric doesn't make the greatest tie and I’ll need to redo it again soon. Messing around with Zarev left it even more tangled, and I would give almost anything for a sturdy comb and brush set right now.
We haven’t talked about Modred, much less whatever is building between us. The one time I tried to mention either subject to Zarev he grunted and said nothing. I haven’t bothered to try again. Maybe again later in the day.
I lick my lips, finding them chapped and dry after walking for the whole morning. “I’ll need more than berries at this rate. I’m starving.”
He raises a brow. “Are you willing to wait while I hunt and skin something then?”
Oh, I forgot he’d need to go through each step to cook something. The chefs always handled that back in the castle, and the cook prepared my meals most nights. I slowly shake my head, deciding I can’t watch Zarev kill an animal to eat right now.
He shrugs. “Berries it is.”
We stop walking a few minutes later, Zarev’s hand landing on my arm. “Here. We can pick these. The blue and the bright red are good. Dark red and purple are poisonous.”
I look at him like he’s grown a second head. They all look vaguely similar to me.
He sighs, reaching down to grab the edge of my skirt. I raise a brow as he lifts the hem before shoving it into my hands with a smirk, watching as my items tumble yet again. “Use the skirt to collect them. Gather some up and we’ll eat as we walk.”
It sounds reasonable enough, even if I glare at him as I adjust, grab my things, and narrow my eyes when I stand again. He really isn’t helping, but I suppose he’s toting along a blade the size of me and the gold still stuck in his chest.
Zarev picks a couple berries, dropping them into my skirt when he’s satisfied. “Like those. Pick the berries like those. Just bring them back over here before you eat them.” He points over his shoulder. “I’ll start this way. Just pick from the bushes along the path. We don’t need to go too far in. The deeper you go into Sherwood the more likely you are to meet a monster.”
Monsters. We haven’t encountered one of those yet, unless you consider Zarev one. I suppose Modred could be one by his own right too, though I haven’t seen the spirit since he tried watching us.
It seriously ruined the mood for me.
I decide to take Zarev’s suggestion, hurrying off with my shoes and corset clasped in one hand while I hold the skirt, picking berries with my other as I walk. I can clearly see Zarev as I walk picking berries on his side of the path, his strange eyes occasionally looking across the landscape. He’s been tense since last night, and it makes me worry about what we might run into out here.
Although the forest is beautiful, with trees taller than I’ve ever seen and colorful birds all over the place, I have to remember it’s deadly too. I don’t know what’s hiding in the bushes, or what I would do if something jumped out at me.
“Have you decided to fix me yet?”
I glance up to find Zarev shaking his head, Modred’s ghostly form floating nearby. He somehow looks more like a ghost than he did before, which is strange to say. He’s more wispy, and really floating instead of trying to touch the ground with his feet. He gets in Zarev’s face, who uses the scythe to turn him into a breeze.
When Modred reappears, he’s standing beside Zarev instead on the opposite side of the berry bush. “You owe me. Princess Murder over there killed me and you don’t even have the grace to send me onward.”
“I need magic to do so,” Zarev replies, staring at Modred. For the first time he has to look up because Modred’s decided to float. “I’m healing. It should be okay to do so by tonight. I’m not using my magic to stay invisible while we travel, so it’s not sapping my energy. Be patient. Had you not pushed her we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Modred sneers, glancing in my direction. “You’ve already made her indecent. She barely looks like royalty now. How the mighty have fallen. Stop wasting your time on the princess and fix me!”
Zarev stops picking, turning to face the spirit. “You’re letting your soul get angry. If I had enough magic I would send you on and be done with it.. But things are different right now. You act like you understand death so well for someone newly dead. You’ll be out of this land soon enough, and what happens to your soul next is out of my hands.”
I frown, listening to his words. Zarev doesn’t explain much about himself, and whether he’s a death bringer or just someone cursed, I want to know what makes him so hostile.
The Reaper’s eyes lift to mine, and Modred’s head twists unnaturally on his body. I step back as his neck twists until he’s looking at me backwards, his body still in place.
It occurs to me I’ve not seen Zarev reap anything over the weeks I’ve come to know him. I guess that’s largely because of the dead problem in Tressa, but out here I hoped he’d send Modred on so I could witness his full power. The gold is putting a damper on that, but to say I’m anxious is an understatement. When Zarev reaps, and acts like a true Reaper, I think I’ll have an idea of his full power.
Right now, I’m in the dark. He’s seen some of what I can do, and even I don’t know what my limits are. But Zarev is more comfortable in his skin, aware of his own boundaries, and I’m eager to see how far that extends.
There’s more to him than the shadowy darkness. The occasionally sharp teeth, the red orange eyes, the unique senses…
I’d almost call him a wolf, but that’s absurd. Wolf shifters are the stuff of legends. Hunters killed them off decades ago, or at least that’s the tale Dorah spun when she bothered to try and warn me away from things as a little girl. Big, bad wolves that devoured young girls for dinner were one of her favorite tales.
Shaking the thought away, I try to focus. Modred’s voice rises along with Zarev’s, and they are arguing about the same thing again.
I should defend myself, but the words lodge in my throat. Modred already unsettles me enough this way. Raising my voice, I try to be heard over the bickering. “I’ll just pick some berries over here for a few minutes.”
There’s no immediate protest, so I spin and rush off further down the berry path. I don’t plan on going far, but I need some peace for a moment. Although there are no walls, it’s like I can’t be alone.
Since coming over the wall, I’ve spent every second with Zarev. Modred is occasionally there more than I like too, but I’m used to hours and sometimes days of solitude. No one ever chooses to spend this much time in my company, and it’s a little unsettling.
I bet Zarev sees a puzzle, something interesting to figure out. I’m a burden in his eyes, not a friend or companion. Maybe someone fun to sleep with, but that’s as far as it goes.
I at least consider him to be a friend. My list of those is nonexistent, and it’s kind of nice to add my first to the list, unless you want to count Cheshie.
Eating at the berries as I walk, I ignore Zarev’s warning to let him check what I pick. I’m being careful, matching the berries to his examples as closely as I can. Once I have enough I can turn back and cut into whatever argument those two have next.
I take another step as I round a bend, and suddenly my feet come out from under me. I slide down the side of a dirt hill, gasping at the sudden drop. Everything in my hands goes flying, and I roll down the rest of the way, my body crushing berries and twigs as I go.
I think I scream, I’m not sure. But when I stop rolling I groan, wrapping my arms around myself. There’s hair in my mouth, and the makeshift braid is torn apart again. I cough, shoving away the long locks and twigs that tangled in my fall.
Sitting up with a groan, I find smashed berries along my legs and feet, staining the white underskirt and shift. It’s torn to one side, creating an uneven divet in the top that makes me look sloppy. At least it distracts from the richness of the fabric.
“Miss! You alright there?”
I jump, scrambling to my feet. A young boy from the trees, hair a light brown and tied at his nape. My eyes widen as he approaches, carrying a basket with him. He doesn’t appear to have much else, a loose green shirt and worn green trousers with holes at the knee showing tanned skin.
Blinking, I realize he’s barefoot like me too. That’s a unique fashion choice for someone who doesn’t have to walk around like this. My feet feel cut up again from the fall.
He pauses in front of me, a big smile stretched across his face. “I saw your fall.”
Blinking, I wait for him to continue, but that’s all he has to say. I’m sure Zarev heard me too, and he’ll be along at any moment. “Oh, yes. I must’ve slipped. I was just picking berries…”
My voice trails off when I turn, finding a steep hill behind me. When we stopped at the bushes I don’t recall seeing a slope like this, and I doubt Zarev would’ve missed it. Or maybe he didn’t care.
I shake my head, wondering where that negativity came from. He hasn’t left me to die yet. I should have a little more faith in him.
“Long way to fall,” the stranger goes on, his grin staying unusually wide. “Can’t say you will have an easy time climbing back up.”
Slowly I nod, glancing down at myself. The stranger seems to have no issue with how I’m dressed. In fact, I don’t think he’s even noticed. His startling green eyes stay fixed on my face, and he cocks his head to the side without blinking. Chills dance down my spine at his sharp, curious look. “Are you hungry, maiden?”
I may not meet a lot of people, and people in the forest is a whole new world to me, but this kid creeps me out more than Modred as a man or as a ghost. I give him a tight smile, his wording a little off. “I’m just waiting for my friend. He’ll be looking for me by now.”
That better be true too.
He points at me, not seeming to mean anywhere in particular. “You’re stained in berry juice. You’re hungry, aren’t you? My granny makes the best pies. She’s just down the road. Surely you could come and wait in our house or on the porch? It’s not far from here. Your friend can find you easily there.”
I raise a brow. Kid gets right to the point. “I’d rather just wait here.”
“But you’ll get hungry,” he pouts. He looks so sad it’s bizarre. “And gran loves to have guests over. Oh, she makes such wonderful sweets! Cakes and cookies and gingerbread houses…”
His voice trails off and my traitorous stomach growls. I am hungry, and the most filling thing Zarev offered so far is something we have to kill and skin. The berries were fine until I dropped them as I rolled. Looking back to the slope once more, I note my corset and shoes are pretty high up and my feet ache at the thought of going up there. My body already protests standing so straight after rolling down the hill.
I bite my lip. This is a terrible idea.
“Look!” he goes on, digging into his basket. He pulls out a cookie, one beautifully done with the skill of one of the cooks in the kitchens of Tressa, the frosting perfectly rounded on the top of the snack. “I have one more on me. You can have it if you like, Miss. Might be enough until your friend comes along.”
I cross my arms. “Sir, I’m sure you’re very kind, but I’m not eating a sweet from a stranger in the woods.”
He bursts out laughing, tossing the basket over his arm before grabbing the cookie to break it in two. “There’s no danger, Miss, honest. Just a wee bit of a snack. Gran runs a… uh…”
His voice trails off, and he pinches his nose for a moment. “A tavern!”
I perk up at that. Isn’t that where Zarev said we’re going? “Is that the shoe tavern?”
He blinks, before a slow smile spreads across his lips. “The very same.”
“Oh.” I smile, wondering why Zarev talked about it like it’s so far away. I could swear he claimed two days, but perhaps it’s just because he’s injured. He can’t even send Modred on, after all. “I think we planned to arrive here. Do you know Zarev?”
Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone in an instant. “Of course I know Zarev! We’ve been expecting you. Come, why don’t we go and wait for him at the tavern?”
He takes a bite of the cookie, handing me the other half as he chews. I wait to see if something happens, but he only turns and heads off in the direction he came.
I glance back over my shoulder, but I see no way back up the steep hill. I’m impressed I’m not more cut up from the fall, but other than mild scrapes and wild hair I seem to be fine.
I jog to catch up to him, taking a bite of the cookie. “What did you say your name was?”
He chuckles. “Hansel, of course. I’m just passing through but I always stop in to see Gran.”
It occurs to me this kid might be familiar with Sherwood, and there’s a few people I know sitting in Tressa who likely spent a lot of time in the forest. Maybe I can try and relate to someone. “Oh, maybe you know Robin the Brave?”
His steps slow. “Robin the Brave?”
“Yes.” I wince, realizing it might not be common knowledge how Robin Hood died. “He, uh, I heard he went over the wall to Tressa.”
His eyes flash, and after a beat he smiles and turns back to the road again. “Ah, I heard that, Miss. Terrible place, Tressa. I’ve heard the False King and his heathen daughter kill anyone who enters the Kingdom.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I shove the rest of the cookie into my mouth to keep from responding. These are the rumors circling through Mystica about me? I glance over my shoulder, feeling self-conscious with this man who clearly despises my home, but there’s still no sign of Zarev. He’s really wrapped up in his argument with Modred.
“But don’t fret on that,” Hansel says after a moment, and soon we round the corner to a quaint house up ahead. It doesn’t necessarily scream tavern, but I’ve never been to one either. “Gran can whip you up something delicious to fill your belly while we wait for Zarev. He’s a quick one. I bet he’ll be here soon.”
“You know him well?”
“Oh, I know him enough. What was your name, dear?”
“Ra-” I cough, realizing that after his hate filled speech about Tressa he probably won’t like my name. “Uh, Zelle. I’m Zelle.”
“Zelle,” he mutters, looking at me again. “Such an odd name.”
“Oh, it goes with my odd personality.”
Smooth Rapunzel, real smooth.
As we approach, the door to the place opens and a burly woman walks out, her rounded body wide enough it grazes both sides of the doors. She’s got on an oversized chef’s hat and her cheeks are so red I’d believe they are painted on. Curls of white hair peep from her hat, and she’s got a radiant smile. Her face looks freckled, and she’s unusually tall.
“There you are my boy! And look, you brought a guest.”
“This is Zelle,” Hansel tells her, beaming. “She’s going to join us for a snack. She’s bringing Zarev. He’ll be here soon.”
“Zarev,” the old woman breathes, her eyes narrowing. “Well, this is a special day. Come along, dearie, let Gran fix you something good to eat. Would you enjoy a slice of pie?”
I shrug, trying to figure out what to say. That cookie was unusually filling, and my stomach feels like lead as I reach the porch.
“Oh, I might just wait until Zarev gets here,” I reply, forcing a smile. “That snack was more than enough, Hansel. I’ll just sit here on the steps until he arrives.”
“Oh, nonsense dear,” Gran argues, tugging on my arm. Her grip is powerful for a portly old woman. “You look a little peckish. Why don’t we find her a slice of pie or cake to pass the time, Hansel? Go on, find her a big one.”
“That’s not-”
“No dearie, listen to your gran. You want to be nice and full before you go stomping through these woods again.” Her hands bat at me, over my arms and at my legs. “My, you’re a thin little thing! Make that two slices, Hansel! This one’s all skin and bones.”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t worry about that, dear. Helps Hansel pick the best slice. Now, in you go, in you go. Let’s get you settled down while we wait on Zarev, hmm?”
“H-how do you know him?” I ask, struggling against her grip. She’s inhumanly strong.
“Oh, old friends in passing. He travels through from time to time.”
She manages to pull me through the door, and I stumble into the house. It’s a little hard to walk, the floor feeling a bit spongy when I step in, and I note that the walls in here are the same color of gingerbread brown as outside.
It’s sweltering inside. I’m sweating almost immediately, and I’m not wearing very much.
“Come, Zelle, sit down. Gran’s going to make you the best pie ever.”
“I-”
She shoves me to sit down, and I fall into a chair near the door. Hansel shoves a platter of baked goods in my direction, along with two plates laden with thick slices of pie. There’s no way I could eat all of that.
“You’ll enjoy it,” Hansel continues, flashing me his teeth again. There’s something wrong though. They look pointy. Like Zarev’s, but somehow worse. “It’s so good, you’ll positively die.”