Fantasy
Read books online » Fantasy » The Witch's Tower by Tamara Grantham (uplifting novels .txt) 📖

Book online «The Witch's Tower by Tamara Grantham (uplifting novels .txt) 📖». Author Tamara Grantham



1 ... 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 ... 47
Go to page:
this forest, though it seemed an unfamiliar place now.

“Wait,” Raj said, reaching out to stop me. We stood on the edge of the forest. Trees burned around us as we faced the clearing. War raged not far from where we stood, though we had a straight line of sight to the tower.

“If we try to make it across the clearing, they’ll spot us for sure,” Raj said.

“I can use a spell to cloak us, but it will only last a few minutes.”

“That’s good enough.”

After I took my pack off my shoulder, I searched inside until a small glass bottle brushed my fingertips. I removed it and inspected the label under the glow of the firelight, barely able to read the handwriting. Rosalind oil. When I uncorked it, the scent of roses filled the air.

“Hold out your hand,” I said.

He did as I said, and I rubbed a small amount of the oil into his palm. As I did, his image blurred, blending with the trees. I did the same to my own hand until I felt its tingling seep into my skin, making me camouflaged.

“That’s impressive,” Raj said, holding up his hand and inspecting it. I could only see an outline of his form, as if he were a shadow.

“It won’t last long,” I said. “We need to get to the tower quickly.”

“I agree. But we can’t go just yet. I need to make sure it hasn’t been infiltrated.” He pulled his dagger from its sheath. Its rubies glinted deep red in the firelight. He took off through the trees, dodging the fires, until he disappeared completely.

I stood waiting, holding my breath, counting the seconds as they ticked by. It was hard not to let my mind go to that place it went, where I imagined the worst.

Raj would be okay.

He was a good fighter. Plus, he had my spell to help him. Tree branches creaked, and I rounded, startled, to find the blurred image of Raj behind me. If I hadn’t known it was him behind that shadowy spell, I would have been frightened out of my wits.

“It’s me,” Raj said.

“Good. What did you find?”

“The high sorcerer’s army hasn’t breached the tower yet. Duc’Line’s men are holding them back for now, but I don’t know how much longer that will last. We’ve got to get inside now and escape with the prince and princess. You have the shears ready?”

“Yes, in my pack.”

“Good, let’s go.”

We neared the edge of the forest and stared out over the clearing. Milky moonlight turned the grass to blades of silver. A gentle breeze rushed past, stirring the tree limbs. Swords clanging and men screaming roared through the forest. It was only a matter of time before they spotted us.

We darted across the field. I glanced across the forest only briefly, catching glimpses of fighting warriors, their armor reflecting the raging fires. The tower rose over us, an imposing structure of weathered stones and mortar. We stopped at the bottom, looking up at the only window. It seemed so much taller than I remembered.

I feared calling out the spell. Magically glowing hair hanging from the tower’s only window was sure to draw attention to us, which was something we didn’t need.

“If I use the spell, it would alert the army. Should we chance it?”

“No. We’ll have to find another way. Can you use some other spell that would be less noticeable?”

“Possibly. I have some enchanted seeds in my bag. I could use them to grow into vines.”

“Would they glow?”

“No. I won’t use any natural magic. They won’t glow.”

“Then let’s try it.”

I reached into my bag, searching for the bottle of seeds. My fingers snagged a small, cylindrical bottle. I pulled it out, then knelt on the ground and dumped the seeds on the grass. Placing my hand atop the seeds, they grew warm, and I stepped away.

Small shoots, barely visible, peeked from the ground, then grew into vines that snaked up the tower until they reached the window. Raj grabbed one of the vines and I grasped another. My hands burned as I climbed up, but all the traveling on horseback had toughened my legs, and I used that to my advantage. As I climbed, sweat slicked my palms, making it difficult to get a good grip. I held on as best as I could, my breathing labored, picturing Rapunzel’s face, wondering how she would react once I told her we were sisters—thinking of how close she was to being set free. Those thoughts kept me moving until I finally reached the window and grabbed the ledge.

Raj climbed beside me. We both breathed heavily as we collapsed inside the tower.

“We made it,” I whispered.

“Yes, I just hope we’re not too late.”

Darkness shrouded the room, and only a few objects stood out in the moonlight. I spotted the white coverlet on Rapunzel’s bed and crept toward it. As I moved through the tower, I walked without stumbling over the piles of hair.

Seeing anything was hard to do, but as I searched, I didn’t spot any hair anywhere.

My heart raced. Had someone taken her already?

When I got to the bed, my fears were confirmed. I pressed my hand to the empty bed sheets, shocked.

I turned to Raj who stood behind me.

“She’s gone,” I whispered frantically.

“How is that possible? I thought she couldn’t leave the tower.”

“I thought so, too, but my father must’ve found a way around the spell. He must’ve taken her already.”

“If that’s so, then why are they still fighting outside?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Let’s search the tower. Maybe she’s still here.”

Something rubbed against my legs, and I darted back, afraid it was a spider or something worse, when I spotted the sleek black fur of a cat.

“Jester!” I hissed, frightened and relieved at the same time. I knelt and patted his head. “You scared me, you silly beast.”

He mewled, and I rubbed his back. “Where is Rapunzel?”

Knocking came from somewhere, echoing with hollow thuds. I stood, pacing the room, searching for the sound.

“Over here,” Raj said, walking to the well.

Jester followed me as I crept toward the raised ring of stones. The knocking came again, louder this time.

A wooden lid sat atop the opening, and Raj pried it off. Tangled loops of hair spilled out, smelling of dampness, and the bone white visage of Rapunzel’s face smiled up at us.

“You found me,” she said, her voice hoarse and cracking.

“Rapunzel, what are you doing in the well?”

“I had to hide somewhere. The troops were coming.”

“But how did you break my sleeping spell?”

She smiled but didn’t answer.

“Where’s the prince?” Raj asked.

“He’s in here, too, and he’s very uncomfortable to sit upon.”

“How did you even get in there?” I asked, reaching for one arm as Raj grabbed the other. We pulled her free, though removing the long ropy hair took another five minutes. When we pulled the last of her hair from the well, the strands uncoiled to reveal the prince.

His body thumped limply to the floor.

“Is he dead?” Raj asked, his voice panicked.

I knelt by the prince, hearing the faint sounds of breathing exhaling from his mouth. “No, he’s alive. If we cut Rapunzel’s hair and remove the spell now, he’ll make it.”

I turned to Rapunzel, who lay in a heap haphazardly on the ground, her legs bent awkwardly beneath her, revealing her bony knees, both scraped and bleeding.

She smiled as I knelt by her.

“I got the shears.” I patted her shoulder. “Everything’s going to be made right now. You’ll see.” I opened my bag. When the cool metal met my hands, I grabbed the handles and pulled them out. The golden glow radiated around the room.

She shied away. “No.”

“What’s the matter?”

She breathed shallowly, her eyes fixated on the shears. “What if it hurts like the other times?”

“It won’t. These aren’t like the other shears. They’re magic. They’re the only ones ever created that can’t hurt you.”

“I don’t know.”

“Gothel,” Raj interrupted. “Listen.”

Outside, shouts grew closer. The sound of rustling vines came from the window. Raj unsheathed his dagger and crept toward the window.

“I’ll cut the vines,” he said.

I turned back to Rapunzel. “We don’t have time. I’m going to cut your hair now, okay?”

“You’re sure about this?” Her eyes were wide and dark, and they glimmered in the moonlight. The protruding bones in her cheeks made her face look skeletal.

“I’m sure,” I said.

“But what about the magic?”

“What do you mean?”

“The magic in my hair. Will that be gone, too?”

“I don’t understand. There isn’t any magic in your hair. There’s only the spell my mother put on you, and once we cut your hair, the spell will be gone.”

“You’re wrong. There is magic inside my hair.

1 ... 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 ... 47
Go to page:

Free ebook «The Witch's Tower by Tamara Grantham (uplifting novels .txt) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment