26 Zarev
The castle shakes.
I’m traveling through the shadows, stalking some guards towards the King keeping an eye out for Rapunzel when it happens. The ground quakes, the walls tremble, and there’s a great explosion from someplace above.
“We’re under attack,” a guard yells, and the troops scatter. “Get to the royal wing!”
“The spirits got over the walls,” another voice cries, sinking to his knees. “We’re all damned!”
Obviously, these are troops who never had a reason to fight. Tressa’s golden wall offers false protection, and now faced with real danger, they’re crumbling. I dash over the ground in shadows, making quick work to travel upwards.
On the third floor, there are two maids scrambling to get away. I phase past them, moving to find the destruction that must have to do with Rapunzel.
I’m just not sure if she’s the attacker, or the one being attacked.
It’s no surprise the destruction is in the royals’ rooms. But the pink and purple feline that paces in front of the doors is, and he hisses at me when I try to shift past.
“Away, cat,” I grumble, trying to shoo him with the handle of my scythe. I don’t need this right now when she needs me.
The cat is incessant, no matter how much I try to push him away. He hisses again and I can’t believe I’m being blocked by a damn housecat.
He spits again, tilting his head high. The little pendant I’ve seen him wearing around a fat neck shines in the light, and I’m about to go lock him in another room someplace -
I slip from the shadows, bending to grab the pendant swinging from his throat. “Goddamnit.”
It’s the Queen’s emblem, a rose with a knife cutting through. I’ve seen it a few times on some of the larger pets she keeps but never a housecat. And Rapunzel cuddles this thing like a best friend, so I wasn’t about to get too close.
I rip the tag free, tag the collar with. “If you’re one of those shifters, Cheshie, now would be the time to change.”
Rapunzel screams before I get the answer and I can hear the pain in her voice.
Down the steps of the hidden room in the royals’ home, I see the chaos my princess has reaped.
The room is trashed. Any furniture that may once have graced the area is in splinters. The heat is appalling as I step further in, and I see again what happens when Rapunzel is pushed.
Her golden hair flows from her body like a shield, wafting in the air all around her in long, golden ropes. Her hands burn with untapped power and Dorah is gasping on the other side of the room. Zarev can see the Queen hasn’t escaped unharmed.
“You never gave her a chance,” Rapunzel snarls, and I shift into the room behind her. There’s a large gash in Dorah’s head bleeding freely and there are burn marks on her arms where the material of her gown has been burned away. “You didn’t even care!”
“She wasn’t strong enough,” Dorah breathes, her voice strained but still powerful. Her eyes never leave the princess, however. It’s obvious the Queen is afraid of her daughter now and rightfully so. “Her body couldn’t handle the gift. So she succumbed to death.”
“She was an infant! She didn’t have the ability to fight a gift!”
Zarev realized they were talking about Rapunzel’s twin and he’s shocked to feel a twinge of heartache for his princess.
“Your body was strong enough,” Dorah continues, holding out her hands. “You… you could handle the gift. Forcing the tea down your throat the first time was difficult, and you did get quite sick for a number of days, but you thrived, my flower! You were meant for the magical gift!”
“I was meant to have a sister,” Rapunzel says more quietly.
“Details.” Dorah rolls her eyes when suddenly her gaze lands on me. She throws her hands out in front of her, trying to distract her daughter. “There, Rapunzel! That’s who you need to strike! He’s the one who took you from us! It’s his fault that you have lost your way.”
She doesn’t turn but instead raises her hands. The subhuman glow is bright enough to illuminate the cracks and grime in the walls of this old room. Her hair follows suit until the light it provides is like standing outside during midday. “No. My Reaper showed me the way.”
I half expect her to rush the Queen, slam her hands into her and bake her alive. Instead Rapunzel claps her palms together and the wild hair floating around us surges like snakes, moving to strike the Queen.
Dorah’s screams echo through the room, blood spraying across the walls where the hair strikes, breaks, and pulls at her limbs. I raise my brows as I watch Rapunzel’s rage take form, literally pulling her mother apart.
That hair can do more than snap a neck. It can take a life piece by piece.
The princess falls to her knees as Dorah screams, her shrieks pitching off the roof before Rapunzel’s hair drops the Queen’s limbs. Collapsing, her heated hands fall to the floor, and her handprints burn into the stone as she gasps.
I’m at her side in an instant. Some of her hair brushes against me and my clothing sizzles at the contact. She’s hot enough that she’s roasting.
Dorah continues to shriek, her limbs torn, burned, and snapped at odd angles. It’s clear that Rapunzel acted clearly on emotion. The Queen is bleeding profusely from the spots where limbs were severed and the blood soaks the floor and tattered gown beneath.
Breathing heavy, she stands again and screams down at her mother, her hair shining to life once more. But I tighten my grip on her arm, causing her to pause. She blinks when she sees me, looking as if she just came out of a trance.
Eyes so pretty, blue rimmed in shining gold. It’s the most I’ve ever seen of that golden ring, and it shines as bright as her hair.
She gasps, focusing on me. “Z-Zarev?” Her hands fall slowly to her side, the power fading.
I glance at Dorah, who’s screeching cries dwindle to pained sobs. I can feel the pull of her spirit, and know she will only last a few minutes more before succumbing to the sweet release of Death. I have no idea if her spirit will linger like Modred’s now that the spirits are being called here, but she isn’t someone I care to send on.
I run my fingers up her arm to grip her shoulder. “Ask her your questions, Princess. She’s already on the verge of passing.”
Some of the rage in her eyes disappears, and I watch as her hair calms from violent whips to calmer, subdued waves, like she’s caught up in the wind. Breathing heavily, she blows out several breaths before she can speak. “She killed Rosen.”
“Who?”
Rapunzel lifts her gaze, and I see the pain behind her rage. “My sister. They gave her to the Mad Queen.”
She drops, her knees forward on her hands again, but the stone doesn’t burn this time. Panting, she takes several breaths, and I glance up at what’s left of Dorah.
Tears streak her cheeks and I’m sure it’s from the pain. Her lips move, but she looks like she’s in shock. The faster the pain registers, the quicker she will go.
Clearly her throat, she coughs on blood as it clings in her mouth, her eyelids sagging. “I - I made the right choice.”
Rapunzel’s head snaps up, and I think she’s going to go at the Queen with her bare hands. “By choosing me?”
Her lip twitches, like the Queen is trying to smile. “T - the tea did its job. So much p - power.” Dorah’s voice is scratchy and becoming weaker. “You’re magnificent, daughter. You bear the Golden Curse well.”
Rapunzel screams in frustration, her voice echoing throughout the chamber. When she calms down, she asks, “What did the tea do?”
Dorah starts to chuckle, but it rolls into another cough. The pull of her soul is stronger, and I know she’s slipping. “Gold throughout, princess. L - little bit of Phoenix Rose and some gold infused w - water did the trick.”
Gold infused water, just like the book said.
She coughs, the sound turning to a gurgle. Blood leaks from between her lips, her eyes turning glassy. I grip Rapunzel’s arm when she lurches, looking like she’s ready to ask more questions. “She’s not going to answer.”
Dorah takes a shuddering breath, and slowly Rapunzel’s flying locks calm down enough to hang limply around her body again. She shakes off my hand to stand and I lean back on my heels as she approaches the Queen.
I expected a blowout, but the last two people who died at Rapunzel’s hands brought her to tears. She’s crying now, but it doesn’t appear that she’s sad.
Taking another shuddering breath, Dorah’s fingers twitch towards her daughter. Rapunzel kicks her hand back; the Queen is too weak to fight back.
“My… golden… flower-”
Her breathing is ragged, and the next breath is her last. I finger the handle of my scythe, watching as the Queen’s soul leaves her body, cool wisps of soul floating up to form the ghostly outside of the dead ruler.
Dorah’s wispy form looks down at her body in disbelief, saying nothing.
And Rapunzel, for all her grace, moves forward and swipes her hands through the ghost, making her disappear. Dorah appears again a moment later to glare at her.
“That’s what you get,” the princess growls, turning from her. “You lived your whole life as a heartless creature. Congratulations, you’ve finally become one.”
Rapunzel ignores the voice of her mother as she paces the room. “We need to go find Midas.”
I lift a brow, looking her over. Without the spectacle of her hair, I can see she’s burned off half of her dress, and there’s blood splattered on her cheeks and chest from ripping apart the Queen. Dorah is blissfully quiet for the time being, probably in shock over her violent death to say much of anything to her daughter.
“You need to take a breath,” I tell her, and she turns those enraged eyes on me. “I’m not saying we won't deal with the Golden King the same way. But you’re shaking, and a wired fighter is liable to make a mistake. Breathe.”
She looks one step away from stabbing me with something, but instead she whirls away and begins to pace again. She should sit down for a moment, or at the very least leave the room, but she’s burning in her hatred and won’t settle down.
This goes on for a few minutes, and she moves to kick open the book on the ground. I glance down at it, its spine completely broken, and wonder if she even looked at the title.
Not that I think she cares.
Her hands tremble as she moves around the room, and I notice that she avoids walking directly next to Dorah’s lifeless body although her hair is now long enough that the ends drag through the blood.
At length, she moves to the closest piece of furniture - one of the covered cribs - and takes a shuddering breath.
“You set fire to your crib at three months,” Dorah says, and I snap my neck around to glare at her. The hard edge her eyes held in life is gone, and she looks traumatized by her death. Not all spirits bounce back like Modred did. “That one. By the wall. We transferred you to Rosen’s crib after that.”
Rapunzel snarls, and I shake my head at the dead Queen. “I would stop talking.”
But she doesn’t listen, going on as her eyes look down hopelessly. “The tea we gave you helped to control the outbursts. After you drank the golden tea, we only used the leaves of the Phoenix Rose to keep you from losing control. You were so… powerful. Too powerful for an infant.”
“At least my parents didn’t throw me away to a Mad Queen,” she growls back.
But Dorah is ignorant to Rapunzel’s rage, and I’ve seen this before. Souls cope differently with death, and hers is regretful. “People began gossiping through the kingdom because you had hair to your shoulders that gleamed gold by barely a month old. It was unholy to have a child like you when the rumors were rampant about Rosen’s death.”
“You didn’t give her a chance. She was an infant,” Rapunzel snaps.
“She was weak ,” Dorah snarls, her sadness morphing to anger. “And now you’ve brought the same kind of weakness to our kingdom again. Do you know what we got from the Mad Queen for gifting her a child touched by gold, dead or not? She didn’t come knocking on the walls, demanding we stand with her kingdom. She’s already in the ears of people from Thornton, Camelot, and Swan Lake. She’s everywhere. But she let us be because we had enough bartering chips.”
“Rosen never mattered to you at all,” she whispers. “And if I’m not useful, neither do I.”
Dorah shrugs, staring down at her transparent hands. For a parent who could kill she’s adjusting poorly to being dead. “We’ve gotten rid of those who stand to hurt Tressa.”
“Or the royal family.” My fingers close over the blade, staring down. I need to pull it, and I know I could heal at least some with it still embedded in me. Once I make a move, Dorah will be on me. “Like Gothel Tremaine.”
“Gothel?” Dorah says, lifting her gaze. “Who told you about Gothel!?”
Rapunzel grins, but it isn’t a kind look. “Does it matter? She accomplished her task, got that flower from the garden in the Red Woods, and you had her killed. I always thought my father's mistress died rather suddenly. I never realized you continued to make her children serve the family that destroyed them.”
Dorah sneers. “They stayed because the poor don’t have a choice. It was either this or the streets. And if children go to the streets, they are likely to end up dead. Their souls would become property of the King.”
I narrow my eyes, but Rapunzel speaks first. “What are you talking about?”
She starts laughing, the sinister side of the Queen shining through. When she looks back at us, her forehead is wrinkled and her smile is pulling too high at the corners. Even as a spirit, she cannot hide her true form.
Rapunzel gasps. “Harpy.”
“Well, some rumors are true,” she says dismissively, waving a hand. “The dead in Tressa serve a different purpose than those outside the wall. Midas fought to keep his power intact. The Golden Touch is taxing, Rapunzel. It takes a great amount of work to control. The people of Tressa are blessed by a King who keeps the outside horrors at bay. In turn, when their spirits pass on, they go to Midas.”
“That’s not how it works,” I interrupt, and Dorah’s distorted face twists towards me. “Souls belong to themselves in death. Tortured, pained, or accepting, their only purpose is to pass on. Using spiritual energy for anything else plays at being God, and neither of you are powerful enough to claim that title.”
Dorah bares her teeth at me, but it’s nothing in this form. “Shows what you know, Reaper. Midas was given a great gift. By a God. He carries the power in his hand.”
This woman is stark raving mad. “The Golden Touch is a curse he carries, with pros and cons. It doesn’t give him the all-consuming power of a God. He’s a false King masquerading as something more.”
She flies towards me, and I tilt the blade to keep her back. She stops short, cowering from the point. “You do not speak ill of my King!”
“He’s not your anything,” I remind her. “You’re dead.”
Dorah shakes her head. “You don’t get it. Neither of you do. The King is powerful because he has a failsafe in place. Hurt him?” She laughs, the noise a little hysterical as her soul tries to reason with us. “You can’t! He has the souls to rely on! Try to stab him? It’s okay! The water gives him control of the spirits to crush them out of existence.”
“That doesn’t make sense!” Rapunzel snarls.
But it does. Thinking of the notes I read from Grimm, and what I know about the King, the pieces slide together. “There’s gold in the water, and Midas controls the gold. People drink water constantly, and that in turn becomes bits of them. When they die, the soul is contaminated with bits of gold…”
My voice trails off, and Dorah’s soul seems to jump for joy, clapping her hands. “Yes!”
Slowly, Rapunzel’s eyes lift to her mother. “The people consume Midas’ magic unknowingly. It calls their souls to the magic’s source when they die.”
“That’s why the dead in Tressa don’t rise,” I continue, watching the dead Queen. “They do, but Midas’ pull draws them to his Golden Touch when they die. I’ve always heard that his touch is just as powerful now as it was years before. His magic doesn’t dwindle with age, because his daughter has life altering magic, and every person who dies in the Kingdom goes to fuel his magic.”
Dorah gives us a feral grin. “Now you see the big picture. There is no stopping the King!”
Rapunzel steps back, her repulsion clear. “And giving me the tea…”
“You have the Golden Touch,” Dorah replies. “You always have. Midas’ magic transferred to his daughters before birth, and Rosen died when she couldn’t handle the booster. You thrived, but your magic, partnered with the Phoenix Roses, was too great. You need to be controlled to be able to manage it.”
She gestures down to her dead body, to the chaos of the room. “See what happens when you aren’t handled properly? You must take your tea. That’ll put the powers back under control.”
“You mean suppress them,” she says, her voice deadly quiet. The venom that leaks into her tone is enough to make Dorah’s ghostly brow furrow. “I killed Modred because I missed one cup of the tea and melted off his face.”
Rapunzel holds out her hands and they glow, heating the sweltering room up further. “I have… what, fire? Heat? It must be from the Phoenix Rose if Midas has no power of heat or flame.”
Dorah shrugs. “Who knows. It worked to keep your hair from moving with a mind of its own, and hid everything else.”
“Like healing,” she growls.
“Well, that was necessary. The rhyme Midas taught you would channel your powers so you didn’t become too much to handle.” Dorah crossed her arms, trying to look down on her daughter. She doesn’t know how to float yet, still adjusting so soon after passing, and the effect is lost. “We tried to do right by you, Rapunzel. Watching the Golden Princess. Protecting the Golden Princess. We even let you keep that stupid cat as a friend. But you always wanted more, and we couldn’t chance anything happening with the Mad Queen or Arthur or any of our other allies.”
“Because I was a pawn,” she snaps. “You used tea to control how much of my magic I could access, you lied to me about my whole life, and you got rid of my twin sister to further your ambitions.”
“You make it sound so awful,” Dorah snaps. “We did what we did to keep Tressa safe and you protected. Be grateful we cared so much!”
“You didn’t,” she replies, shifting back on her heels. “If you did, my sister would still be alive and you would never have suppressed my real powers. If you hadn’t hid them from me, Mother , if I had known even once that I could do more, I would’ve focused on learning all I could about myself. Before I knew about the other side of the wall, I would’ve offered my help to you both. I would have supported you both because I loved you!”
Now she steps backward, shaking her head as she reaches the door. “But that would never be enough. Not for the two of you. Playing with people's souls, killing your own child? There’s no love lost between either of you. You’ve become monsters of your own making. And… and I’m glad I killed you, Mother. It’s what you deserved.”
Dorah roars, but my eyes stay on the princess. She looks back at me, her eyes tired as she reaches to tug on her hair, the ends caked with drying blood. “Can you send her away, Zarev?”
“Reap her?”
“I don’t care if you disintegrate her soul,” she snaps. “It’s just not fair her spirit is here and Rosen’s isn’t. Just… just do it.”
I nod, and when I turn back Dorah is closer to me, her distorted face leaning into mine. “What are you going to do, shadow man? My soul is bound to Midas.”
“I see you haven’t disappeared to his side,” I remind her, and Dorah’s face twists with confusion. “Midas is doing something to call the souls to Tressa, isn’t he? That’s why they’re traveling across the lands to the wall. If he were all powerful as you say, you wouldn't be here talking to us. But spirits are my gift, my curse, and your soul can’t differentiate between his power and my draw. Reapers turn you to the afterlife. Midas has no such power. If he gets ahold of your soul, he’ll destroy it.”
I almost think it’s more fitting. Why let her go into the next life at all? She’s destroyed so many in this one, and if she was heartless enough to let an infant suffer there’s no good in her.
“Reaper-”
“The Knights of Camelot are coming,” I interrupt, raising a brow. “And Death bleeds across the kingdom. Midas must be afraid of the attack, or he wouldn’t take such drastic measures.”
“You know nothing!” Dorah moves, trying to leave the space, but her soul turns back to me. She hasn’t made it halfway across the room. “Why can’t I go,” she asks, fear in her voice as her brow furrows.
“Because I’m the only Reaper in the Kingdom, and your soul wants to pass on. Midas is playing with death, but his Golden Touch has no power over an angel of Death.”
Rapzunel’s head snaps around but I resist the urge to look at her. I’ve never talked about it that way before, and I can’t waste time at this moment. As I twirl the scythe, Dorah backs up.
“No,” she growls, shaking her head. “I won’t go!”
“You don’t have a choice,” I tell her. “There’s pressure all throughout the kingdom from the energy Midas is trying to control. It will corrupt him and eat him alive. He’s still among the living, for now, but a living person cannot control so many dead. That’s why you haven’t walked off yet. His presence is weakened by trying to handle magic his living body can’t withstand. Even if you drank the water in this kingdom for years, too many spirits are being called to him. The pull per soul is weak, so your instinct is to stay here with me.”
“No!”
“It’s alright, Dorah,” I say with ease, twisting the blade so it hangs high in the air, “I’ll enjoy sending your soul into nothing.”
Dragging the blade downward, the rift opens. The Queen’s eyes widen, her ghostly figure shifting backwards before she’s tugged forwards. “No! I won’t go!”
“You don’t have a choice,” I reply. “It’s my job to send on the dead. I will reap you even if I have to use the blade to send bits of your soul through, piece by piece. And when I find the King, I’m hacking him to pieces before he goes.”
She growls, but struggles against the pull. “I won’t go in there!”
“Oh, Dorah, the dead don’t get to choose. When the Reaper chooses you, there’s nothing you can do.”
Sweeping the blade wide, I feel the pull of energy around us. Dorah’s spirit wails, but that isn’t unusual for those clinging to life. There’s little resistance, and since she died just a few minutes ago her spirit isn’t solidified enough to be much of a problem.
The blade catches her in an arc, pushing her into the tear. I don’t waste any time, bringing the blade down hard into her and making her spirit scatter.
Using my hand, I push the shadows at her. Dorah turns back into a transparent spirit just before tumbling into the void, manic eyes turning towards the princess.
“You did this to me!”