The Witch's Tower by Tamara Grantham (uplifting novels .txt) 📖

to keep up with the conversation. I huddled under my cloak as the smell of wood smoke filled the air. Flames crackled as Drekken pulled out his lute and began playing.

He plucked a tune, a melancholy sound that conjured images of my past. Varlocke killing my mother. Standing over her broken, bloody body, her too-cold hands pressed between mine, not accepting that she was really gone.

Later, my sadness had grown to anger. Why had she been so petty? If she’d escaped him and left Rapunzel alone, she would’ve lived, and I wouldn’t have been an orphan, forced to protect the person she’d cursed.

“Are you going to sleep?” Raj asked, jarring me out of my thoughts. I glanced around the room. Drekken had stopped playing and now lay sleeping on his bed roll. The wolf also slept curled in a ball near the fire.

“Sorry,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I stood and grabbed my pack, untied my bed roll, and placed it on the floor. I wished I could’ve found an actual bed to sleep in, but there wasn’t one in the room. There weren’t many things I missed about the tower, but my soft feather mattress was one of them.

I laid atop the worn blanket and pulled the woolen coverlet over me. Raj lay not far away, closer to the fire, and I tried to ignore the way the firelight reflected on his smooth, bronzed skin. I failed, and my heart gave its usual flutter. He laid on his back, and I gazed at his profile: a broad forehead, straight nose, and strong chin.

He rolled to face me, and his eyes opened. I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. Had he seen me looking at him?

“You’re awake?” he whispered.

“Yes,” I answered, looking intently at the thatch and wooden planks comprising the ceiling. I wouldn’t dare glance his way again.

He scooted closer to me, and I froze.

I wanted nothing to do with Raj being close to me or with the tingling feeling that prickled my skin as he drew nearer. No. I wanted to go to the other side of the room, but for the life of me, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“Gothel,” he said, his voice quiet, almost seductive.

“Yes?”

“Tell me, what do you know of the destruction of Al-Maar?”

“Al-Maar… the Outlander city? Don’t you know?”

“I know how it happened, but I don’t know why. They say the high sorcerer’s father had good relations with our people. He visited King Bajar often. They got along. But his son… No one knew why Varlocke hated our people when his father didn’t. Now, we travel those lands again, and since you lived in Varlocke’s castle, I wondered if you knew the answer.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I think I know. It may have been because of his father.”

“What do you mean?”

“He hated him. Varlocke confessed many things to my mother, and some of those things I overheard. One time, I remember Varlocke sitting in my mother’s chamber. He spoke quietly, so naturally, I snuck toward the door and listened. I was young. Seven, maybe, but I remember he said that when he was a child, his father had taken all his possessions and sold them to the Outlanders for Al-Maarian ore and spiced wine. Everything. His toys, his pony, even their stores from the kitchens. He had nothing to eat for days at a time. The kingdom suffered because of the king’s obsession, and Varlocke hated his father for it.”

Raj rubbed his eyes, as if trying to erase his memories. “If it’s true, then that’s a petty, sorry reason to destroy an entire nation of people. I lost loved ones in his wars, Gothel. My baby sister and my uncle and all his family. I can never get them back again. I can never get my home back again.”

I pondered his words. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice reserved, and I felt my words did nothing to give him comfort.

“That’s not all true,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“He took your sister and uncle, and all his family, yes, that’s true. But he didn’t take your home.”

“He burned nearly every building in Al-Maar.”

“Yes, but they’re just buildings. They can be replaced. You can find your home again.”

“Find it again? Do you not understand what my people went through?”

“I understand, but I also know you need to move forward. You can’t hold on to the past forever.”

Anger simmered in his eyes. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he said, “I have to kill Varlocke first.”

I watched his face, the clenching of his jaw, the anger that I saw so rarely.

“You really mean to kill him?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Is that what this quest is all about? Not to save the prince and free Rapunzel, but to take your revenge on Varlocke by killing him?”

“I thought that was intuitive. If we succeed and free the prince, Varlocke will have to be dead for the prince to marry Rapunzel and take the throne.”

“So much of what you just said bothers me. Killing and forced marriages? Is that really what we want?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?”

He couldn’t answer, so I rolled away from him. The fire crackled, and my heart squeezed painfully tight. I didn’t like arguing with Raj, but I also didn’t like the idea of killing Varlocke. Yes, he was misguided and evil, but I’d known him as a real person who loved his daughter. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of killing him.

“Have I upset you?” Raj whispered, his breath warm on my cheeks.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I always have a way of upsetting you. I’m sorry.”

He trailed his finger along my cheek. Tingles spread across my skin. Did he have any idea what that did to me?

I rolled toward him, intent on asking him to politely shove off, when his eyes met mine. Dark and exotic, with a hint of wildness about him, I couldn’t make my mouth work. The scent of curry and amber lingered on his skin. My heart could have pounded out of my chest.

“Don’t push me away this time,” he said, his words soft, and his eyes pleading.

“But…”

“No.” He pressed his finger to my lips. “Will you let me kiss you?”

My mouth went dry. How did I answer? “I don’t know.”

“Please.”

A tightness grew in my chest. He’d told me before that if he married, he wanted an Outlander wife. I was nothing. A nobody. If he wanted to kiss me, it meant he only wanted to use me. But that didn’t seem like Raj, did it? He’d been nothing but honorable to a fault.

I pressed my hand to his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath my fingers.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” he asked.

“I’ve been locked in a tower for five years, remember?”

“Right.”

He licked his lips, and my eyes went to his mouth. What would it feel like to kiss him? Maybe I should just do it and get it over with. It was only a kiss, after all.

I leaned toward him, and he brushed his lips over mine.

A fire ignited within me. I could hardly think, hardly move. He held me in his arms and deepened the kiss. His lips felt soft and warm against mine. Kissing him was better than I’d ever imagined. Stars danced in my vision as he pulled away.

“Well,” I said breathlessly. “So that’s a kiss.”

“Yes.” He smiled, and I couldn’t mistake the devilish look in his eyes. “That’s a kiss.”