24 Zarev
My body aches in ways it hasn’t for years. The incessant chatter around me slowly becomes clear but it doesn’t lessen the tension I feel. There’s pain all along my body, reminding me of being crushed beneath the stones, but this is a different type of weight that’s settling over me. Less physical, more emotional.
My eyes snap open, glaring up at Legs and Margo and their voices quiet in an instant. And all at once, I sense something is wrong. There’s no Golden Princess in sight.
Sitting up, the two of them back away from me in my rush. My eyes look all around for Rapunzel, but there’s no sign of her. Licking my lips for the final time, I meet Legs’ gaze. It’s resigned, and I already know I’m going to hate what she has to say.
I stand without assistance although a blinding headache rips through my skull. My mouth feels like sandpaper and there’s a heaviness in my chest. None of that stops me from snatching up the scythe and staring down my old friends. “Where is Rapunzel?”
The look they exchange isn’t promising, and I growl before Legs holds up her hands. “She left.”
I hiss, pressing a hand to my chest where it aches. “Left where ?”
“Tressa. In the direction we believe the spirits are going.”
My eyes widen, slamming the butt of my scythe down against the earth. That makes no sense. “Why did you let her go alone? Her father is going to be furious, and-”
“And all of the spirits in Mystica seem to be heading there,” Margo cuts in, glaring at me. I always did like her even if she’s grating on my nerves right now. Like Legs, her hair is pin straight and slicked to her head, the auburn contrasting the red in her wings. Her caramel eyes narrow on me, and I know it’s for challenging Legs. I get that she’s protecting her lover. But so am I.
“I’m sure you’ve sensed the unrest,” Margo snaps, continuing on. “Something to the southeast is calling the spirits. Tressa is the only viable place they would go. Camelot is too far north, and Swan Lake is on the opposite side. Your friends called, claiming the spirits were heading that way. Not to mention, Rapunzel is determined. She would have found her way home whether you liked it or not. If she’s running home to face her parents, you need to follow her.”
I clench my jaw. “Rapunzel knows nothing about survival. She could die out there, nevermind if she can pass The Barrens-”
“Zarev,” Legs interrupts, closing her eyes. “She left another way.”
Dread settles over me. “What?”
“Come,” she says, and Margo lifts her into her arms. “There isn’t much time. She’s already been gone for a few hours.”
After giving me one of the worst recaps I’ve ever heard, Legs makes me take off my shirt so she can inspect the gold that’s digging into my skin. I’m ready to push the both of them aside and go after Rapunzel, but they are insistent that this must happen first. I’ve ground the end of my scythe so far into the ground I’m creating a hole.
I know Rapunzel is strong. But she hasn’t mastered anything when it comes to fighting, and her skills with her hair and burning hands are pure luck at best. Someone trained and ruthless like Midas will make quick work of her, even if he hesitates at first because she’s his daughter. He’s the type that won’t allow himself to be bested.
“What difference does a bit of gold make?” I snarl. “Midas will not touch me again. I’ll let him see the monster come to reap his soul from this world.”
Legs shakes her head at me. She’s in the process of digging the gold out with a gardening pick since it seems the princess took my sickle. The pain is there, but it’s nothing compared to what could be happening to her. “Midas controls gold. Stop being an overprotective dickhead and focus for a moment.”
I blink, because I don’t think Legs has ever been so blunt to me before, and she’s pretty direct to begin with. Dickhead is definitely a new one from her.
“Rapunzel has magic hair and magic hands,” she goes on, and while I’m distracted she digs a chunk of gold from my chest. I hiss, knowing in a few hours it will be back and this will be pointless. “I told you the story of the Phoenix Roses. If she’s wise, she can hold her own.”
“With absolutely no combat training?”
Legs purses her lips, ripping another piece out of me before she looks up. “You should know, young Reaper. The wolf in you knew how to survive at any cost.”
I take a step back. We never talk about that. “That’s a low blow.”
“Oh, you took your sweet time sharing the truth with her from what I’ve heard. ,” she snaps, ripping another chunk of gold out without warning. That one hurt. “This girl is powerful, and her life is built on betrayals. People knew you as a beast, and you carried your legacy into the afterlife. She still cares for the monsters who make her life hell.”
“Her parents?” I haven’t asked her this whole time how she feels about them. I know betrayal and disgust run strong, but she has a relationship with them no matter how corrupt they may be. In the end, it’s hard to turn away from the ones who were there, even if they were in the wrong.
“Midas and Dorah might be deplorable, but they raised her. They have a great many things to answer for, and she’s going to demand the explanations. But never telling her about Little Red?” Legs lips screw up to one side, and I think she debates stabbing me with the pick on principle. “Don’t let her turn into another tragedy.”
I growl. “Red betrayed me, sold me out. Rapunzel isn’t going to do that.”
“Not knowingly,” Legs agrees. “But we do mistake things in the heat of the moment. Give her grace when you next see her. Tressa will soon crumble, either beneath the destruction of other lands seizing control or Midas standing his ground and defending the land. Either way, there will be casualties.”
I clench my jaw. “Even if Midas falls, Tressa still has a princess. The land wouldn’t be left to the victor alone.”
“Then you must be with her,” Legs snaps, pushing hard on my shoulder. “Because Arthur of Camelot thirsts for a Queen, and if the Mad Queen wants to sweep in behind his army and take the win, her soldiers will be full of bloodlust. Rapunzel is passionate, but that’s a lot of death and suffering.”
“The dead don’t rise in Tressa,” I grumble, remembering the problem that started this mess. “They shouldn't be called to the land. I don’t understand why they are all racing back.”
She shrugs, and Margo looks just as uncertain. “Who knows. You’ll probably find the reason when you get to Tressa.”
“Then hurry up,” I growl, and Legs eyes lift angrily to mine. “Rapunzel left how long ago? She might need my help already.”
“She could still be searching a kingdom in turmoil to figure out what to do. Relax, Zarev. You will leave in a moment. Having magical gold lodged in your chest could give Midas the upperhand. Don’t give him the chance.”
My jaw clenches. “I need her to still be alive when I reach Tressa, I won’t reap her.”
“She will be,” Legs replies, ripping out more gold to glare at me. “Now, this is only a temporary fix. It should help draw the cursed gold from you and remove the essence of it that’s sticking to your skin. The gold resonates as part of Raunzel’s magic, and it works against her when she tries to heal you. She couldn’t tear the gold from your body and heal you at the same time. She doesn’t know how to do that yet. Midas’ touch should be deadly, but your half-alive soul kept this from being fatal.”
“I’m aware.”
Legs pulls hard on the last chunk, and I know she did that on purpose. She hands off the plate to Margo, who covers it with a glass container and sets it inside a cabinet. As she does this, Legs rubs what looks and feels like mud onto my chest, into the fresh wounds, and all I can picture is infection.
“This will draw out the magic, Zarev, so you’re at your best to help her defeat her parents and stand against whatever Arthur has planned. You need to be cautious. We have no way of knowing if Tressa is really at fault, if Arthur is involved in this, or if it’s something else. It’s just a gut feeling and Rapunzel ran with it. Killing Midas in front of her might leave scars you cannot heal. Tread lightly when you see the King and Queen. There are answers she still desperately wants.”
I purse my lips. “Like the mention that she could have a twin?”
“Yes. Some answers can only come from the people at fault.”
Shaking my head, I look away as Legs finishes her application. What are we supposed to do? No one in Tressa knows anything about Rapunzel, and half the kingdom doesn’t know what she looks like. If she miraculously gets the people’s attention, they still might not care about her words.
Staying in Tressa would’ve been the optimal choice, and now we’re going back with too many holes in the story. Midas has control of the dead, the kingdom could already be under siege, there’s that issue Midas mentioned with the water -
I blink, thinking that over. It was so long ago I’d nearly forgotten. As Legs places a wrap around my torso to hold the weird mud application against my skin, I catch her arm. “Do you think the Golden King could do something to the water in Tressa?”
She cocks her head as she finishes, leaning back with crossed arms. “Anything is possible. Water is life giving. Everyone would need it, so it would be the simplest method of control.”
“I know. But what could he do with gold?”
Legs pauses, before shaking a finger at me and turning to Margo. “Remember that book I gave you about the fountain?”
She stares. “The Fountain of Youth?”
“Yes. Grab it. Now.”
She pivots back to me, grabbing one of my hands. “When Lady Tremaine came through here, she struck me with my own book. Into the Looking Glass. It’s something I swiped from the Queen’s collection when I still lived in the Red Court. She never knew I had it.”
Shaking a finger, she starts looking all around the room. “Tremaine had too much to carry, or at least I assume so, because she left another book in its place. She tossed it in the river that runs through the garden, so I doubt she wanted me to find it. But Margo found it a few days later, and although there’s water damage, we still managed to read it.”
I almost lose it. They want to get into the details of a book, right now?
Margo reappears, and I cannot imagine this damaged book holds anything of value. The pages are badly warped from water and the colored cover bled onto the page edges. This is a mess, and if anyone but Legs had it, it would be riddled with mold. I’m sure she did something to preserve the pages with one of her magical plants, but I don’t bother asking.
Throwing open the book, she starts frantically searching the tabbed pages. “Where is it, where is it…”
My brow twitches, and I stand to look out the grand window towards the front of the house. Rapunzel is back home, and she needs me more than this blasted book does.
“A-ha!”
Legs snags my arm, and I look down where she’s pointing at the page. There’s a blurred picture that’s too hard to distinguish, and it was probably a nice painting at some point. But the text is still legible:
…the most common myth is the Fountain of Youth. Much like the alleged Holy Grail, the Fountain of Youth can give back the years stolen by time. A truly magical phenomenon occurs where the water in the fountain glows with a golden hue. This grants the fountain its unique qualities, including restoring youth.”
I do a double take, reading that passage again.
The legend says the fountain is lodged somewhere in southern Mystica, in the forest of Sherwood deep where no one is willing to travel. Once powerful, the elements interfere with the fountain’s properties, and it is said that the magic within has its limits.
Many believe the famed Golden Hand lives in this area as well. As the story goes, the God Dionysus granted a wish to a beggar boy. He lost his hand struggling through the wilds, and when he drank the wine of the God, he was granted a single wish.
The boy asked for anything he touched to turn to gold, so he would never again know famine or hunger or struggle. The severed hand was replaced with one of mighty gold.
It is said the Fountain of Youth still hides in the forest, presenting only to those pure of heart. Eternal life is a gift, not a promise, and the powerful often believe they can live forever.
The boy with the golden hand passed on from the fountain. With a golden touch, he could do anything. And if Dionysus granted the gift, he is long gone from this world and would never see the outcome.
Many believe the fountain is still there, bleeding into the waters in the southern lands and gifting those who drink it with eternal life. But magic comes at a price. If ever the water were tampered with, the fountains properties could change.
Investigating again to see if the power of the fountain remains in the lands would be imperative. The golden boy could change fate if given the chance, and with a touch of gold he could have the power to do it.
This is why magic should be reserved. Only the shadows should choose when the stories end, and when we play God, we chance changing Fate’s design.
I will return in one year to see if the fountain is still intact, and the boy is still the same. I saw him rushing off. My brother even gave him an apple he gobbled down.
His name was Midas. He may forever change the way things run in Mystica.
Grimm
I stare hard, trying to read the name before Grimm but it’s too blurred by water damage. Another smudge below was once likely a date. It’s all distorted now, and there’s no way I’ll be able to make sense of it.
Looking at Legs, I shake my head. “Grimm.”
She nods, eyes wide. “Yes. One of a few.”
“Legs, do you mean the Brothers Grimm? Those travelers who told wondrous stories some years ago? The ones that disappeared?”
She shrugs. “All storytellers have a time to speak. The Grimm did their part while they traveled in Mystica.”
“I made a joke to Rapunzel about not being a Grimm when she found out I was a Reaper,” I grumble.
She cracks a smile, patting my hand. “I haven’t thought of this in a long time. Many of the pages are unreadable, even with the attempts I made to salvage it. Perhaps that’s why Tremaine came to the gardens to begin with. Had she thrown the book into the right stream, it would’ve been eaten by the ravenous fish here and turned to nothing, fading into oblivion when the fish died, disappearing without a trace.”
I vaguely know what she’s talking about. Everything in Wonderland comes with a twist. The stream is no exception. The fish in there fade in and out of existence, and even as a Reaper there’s no way for me to control them.
Fire leaves traces, and I can see the previous damage left behind on some of the pages. If Tremaine brought and threw the book away, she left behind a clue. “Why would she take your book in exchange for this?”
Legs shrugs. “The book I read dealt with the looking glass in Wonderland. She came from Tressa, so perhaps she felt she didn’t need a book about her home.”
All the better for me. I stare at the text another moment, wondering what the chances were that I would ever read something like this. “Can I take this?”
She gives me a sad nod. “Yes. You may need it. If the fountain once lay in the land of Tressa, and Midas gained his golden touch from a God, he could touch water. A few specks might not damage the taste or turn the water to a pure river of gold. The water in Tressa must come from someplace besides the sea.”
And if the water is at all manipulated by Midas, that could be how he controls the dead.
Shoving the thick book into my bag, I nod to her. I can puzzle out the mysteries of this another time. “Thank you. Now, show me this magical flower that can teleport me to the other side of Mystica.”
Legs grins, gesturing to my shirt as she chuckles at the skepticism in my voice. It all sounds unbelievable. “Come along, grab that. We need to move quickly in case the castle panics and tries to hack up the plant in the courtyard. We have no way of knowing if someone saw Rapunzel’s arrival.”
I jump up, tossing on the shirt and grasping my cloak. Traveling this way sounds like a joke, and the dirt smear on my chest smells weird. I trust Legs, but some of her practices are beyond me.
She points to a plant when we reach it, and I think she’s nuts if she believes that thing can hold me. But she’s insistent, so I step in and hold up my hands.
There’s no chant or rhyme, and I’m almost disappointed how streamline the solution is. One moment I’m staring at the two butterflies, debating my next move and where Rapunzel would run to first. Next, I’m falling out of a flower in the garden, and I half expect to step into the middle of a war. But nothing that interesting is happening on the other side of the flowers. When I step through, I find several swords pointed in my direction.
Whether they sensed me coming, or were paranoid enough that they were watching for something to happen, I have no idea. But their eyes widen at the sight of me, and I almost wish I’d hidden in the shadows.
But where’s the fun in that?
The sudden terror on their faces is like a reward, and I pulse the shadows in my hands before letting them shoot out and all around me. In the next instant I slip behind them, watching as the guards who were observing the flower panic at how quickly I disappeared.
That should give them a fright.
One keeps snapping his head around. “Theo, he’s gone.”
“I see that, Michael,” a burly guard replies, sheathing his swords again. I shadow hop out of the circle, away from their threat, and watch as they continue to look around for me. It gives me an instant to take in the space.
These are the courtyard gardens Rapunzel took me through when we ran from the castle. It was dark and I was wholly uninterested in whatever grew on the palace grounds. Had I known there would be a fantastical flower that worked as a portal, I would’ve stopped to smell the roses.
But the guards turn back to the flower, staring at the spread petals. “Should we cut it?”
“You want to snip the King’s prized rose?” Theo asks, sounding appalled. He drops his voice, leaning in so, I assume, that I can’t hear but all I do is drift closer in the shadows. “He’ll send you to the Mad Queen himself for that one.”
Interesting.
“But I thought the Mad Queen was furious with him,” the guard insists. “For hiding the flower here.”
“Well she would never know that if Arthur’s men didn’t sneak around until they found something spectacular. Why do you think Modred tried to frighten the princess? She needed to bend to Arthur’s whims. He needs a Queen to stand in solidarity against Wonderland, and he thought he had enough leverage against the King to do it.”
“And Midas,” another guard points out. My brow furrows, wondering why and how these men know so much of the inner workings when this should be top secret information. “We still awaiting orders, Theo?”
“Aye. When it’s time, we’ll attack too. Midas will never know what’s coming until his head hangs from the highest tower.”
My eyes widen. These guards have too much knowledge, and they seem to be against the Golden King, not for him.
No one likes a tyrant ruler.
They mumble for a few more minutes about nothing pressing, and I glance around trying to see where Rapunzel has gone. If she was captured, I imagine the gossiping guards would have had something to say about that. But she doesn’t even come up, and after a few moments something new catches my attention.
I dig my teeth into my lip to keep from groaning. It’s that bewildering noise again, the sounds of the wailing dead that overwhelmed me when they started pulsing towards Tressa.
Maybe Midas does have some sort of control over the dead. He didn’t see me until I allowed it and didn’t appear to notice Modred at all. So what does that make him?
There’s an echoing bang that ricochets across the courtyard, and my eyes glance towards the glowing wall. The sounds are coming from outside the wall, and if spirits can pass through it, they certainly aren’t right now. But traveling over the wall should be just as easy for a ghost, yet they do no such thing. They never have.
One of the guards hisses. “Do you think they can do it?”
“Arthur does,” Theo replies quietly. “He said that the sins of our past follow us through time. Midas has a great many sins. Stealing souls is one of them. The dead are enraged now, and enough spiritual energy can fight against the force of the wall.”
Another guard swallows before speaking as he looks around, terror in his eyes. “If all those spirits break through the wall, are they coming for us?”
Theo shakes his head. “Midas is the target. He’s outlived his usefulness to the Queen, so she gifted him a stone in the last delivery from Camelot. Arthur thinks he’s brought something to kill the King, but it’s just a beacon to call the souls home.”
“I thought Reapers did that,” another breathes.
“Who believes in Reapers?” the first snaps.
“Didn’t see the man who attacked Midas the night the princess died, did you? He came from shadows, and he disappeared in them too. If that isn’t a man of the dead, I don’t know what is.”
An alarm goes off, cutting through whatever else the guards might say. Tressa really is an oddity, and I’ve not heard such a resonating noise in any other Kingdoms I’ve visited. This must be another of Midas’ designs, but it helps to briefly drown out the wailing cries behind the wall.
The guards scatter, leaving only two by the plant, and I can’t help wondering if they were always there, hidden in the garden.
I watch for another moment, waiting to see if they spill any more info but the men go silent, and with a sigh I turn, looking for a stream of golden hair. It’s time to find my princess, and reap the evil here.