Chapter 49
ELLA
MAIER MANOR
The cage swings from the tree bough, creaking as I work at the lock scrunched within the bars of my cage.
A pile of broken hairpins lay scattered at my knees.
None work. My fingers ache, blood dripping from them as I poke myself with the pins.
My throat burns from the lack of water, and I blink back frustrated tears.
I need to escape. It’s only a matter of time before Marianne returns.
Last night, when I landed at the hazel tree and transformed into human form, my stepmother and stepsisters were there, waiting for me. Before I could process what was happening, Marianne tied me up and the three dragged me to Marianne’s secret garden, locking me in this cage.
“Flee, Ella!” a dove calls from the cage beside mine. “Flee! She comes!”
“I’m trying,” I say. “I can’t—”
My words stick in my throat as the tall mirror in the garden’s center wavers and Marianne steps through. Glee fills her eyes as she strides to my cage.
“Good morning, sweet sister,” she says pleasantly as if we’re having tea and cake.
“You’re no sister of mine,” I say in a menacing tone. “And I’ll never tell you where your book is.”
“I didn’t expect you to turn so wild so quickly. No matter. I’ve got wonderful news. The prince’s retinue just arrived in search of the girl who dropped her slipper at the ball. Whoever it fits will be his wife and live in the castle. Isn’t that just wonderful?”
“Then I suppose you'd better cross your fingers you have the same shoe size as that girl.” I flash her a wicked smile. We both know my feet are significantly smaller than hers.
“Cross fingers? What kind of witch do you take me for? I leave nothing to fate or whimsical wishes.”
She pulls out a skeleton key and slips it into the lock of the dove’s cage. With a twist, it clicks open, and she reaches her hands around the dove. “Come here, you pretty thing,” she coos and holds the bird up. Her face is enraptured despite the bird’s cries.
“Let the bird go,” I demand, fear chilling me.
“Oh, don’t worry. I will.”
She pockets her key and then presses on the bird. Its pure-white feathers darken to gray. I scream, shaking at my bars, demanding she stop. The bird screeches, and then its body crumbles into ashes in her palms.
“Why?” Tears stream down my face. “You horrible, horrible witch!”
“Don’t worry, sister. The bird’s life still clings to these ashes.”
She cups her palms to her mouth and pours the ashes down her throat. I choke in horror. Instantly, her hair deepens in richer shades of brown, and her skin smooths out, glistening like she was drenched in diamonds. She’s utterly enchanting. I clench the bars of my cage, fury raging through me.
“I will end you,” I promise.
“There. Now the prince won’t be able to resist me. There’s just one more thing I must do before I meet him. A precaution, because you can never be too prepared.”
She withdraws a pair of shears from her pocket and slips it through the bars. “Cut off your hair.”
I snort. “I’m not doing a thing for you.”
“Then I’ll have your father chop down that rotten hazel tree and capture every bird on the property and bring them to me. So, do we have a deal?”
I suck in a horrifying breath. This isn’t a deal.
That’s when I realize this is just the beginning of her control over me until there’s nothing left except my ashes.
I scowl but take the scissors. In a few brief seconds, I chop off my long golden curls.
Then I drop them on the floor, my final act of defiance.
Greedily, she scoops up my hair and drops it into a pouch.
“By the way,” she says, pausing before slipping through her mirror. “Your Jacob Grimm is here. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he never bothers you again.”
Jacob’s alive!
But my joy is swallowed by fear. Gripping the cage bars, I push down the panic edging at my nerves. What’s she going to do with my hair? Will she use it to hurt Jacob? And I can’t let her marry the prince and rule the land. I need to get out of this cage now.