The Witch's Tower - Tamara Grantham (e reader books .TXT) 📗
- Author: Tamara Grantham
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As he prepared the spell, his grip around my neck loosened. Breathing deeply, I focused on his magic—powers that felt strangely like my own. He’d learned to morph his own body and control others. Was it possible I could do something similar? Could I make his powers become mine?
I called on his magic, drawing it to me. It resisted at first, but as I prodded, the enchantment gained substance until my father’s magic gathered painfully tight in my chest. He gasped as the magic left him.
“What are you doing?” he breathed. “Are you taking my magic?”
“Yes.”
“H-How?” he stuttered. “Stop this now!”
“I can’t do that. I can’t let you hurt anyone else. I’m sorry, Varlocke.” I’d used his formal name because I refused to call him father. He never was one to me.
I released his own magic against him. Electric power crackled around me, through my skin, and into the strands of my hair that glowed brightly. A thunderous boom shook the entire tower as the magic blasted outward. The high sorcerer lost his grip around my waist. The force flung him backward. He flew off the ledge, screaming as he tumbled through the air, shrieking with an inhuman wail as his body hit the ground with an echoing thump—and then all became silent.
Gasping for breath, I stood looking over the ledge. Clutching the worn stones, I focused in horror and relief at the broken body lying at the foot of the tower.
The others gathered around me. We stood unspeaking, looking toward the horizon as the sky lightened beyond the forest. Most of the fires had died out, leaving only thin trails of smoke that snaked upward.
The gathered armies had stopped fighting. Perhaps they’d seen the high sorcerer’s body fall from the tower.
“Are you okay?” Raj asked.
I lightly touched my neck where he’d stabbed me. The blood had grown cold and sticky and no longer trickled free. “Yes.”
“I am so sorry—”
“No.” I pressed my finger to his lips. “You weren’t under your own power. Varlocke did this. Not you. Don’t apologize. Please.”
He smiled—that brilliant expression that stole my breath. “Fine,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I won’t apologize. How about I congratulate you instead. You did it. You defeated the high sorcerer.”
“Yes.” I wasn’t sure killing my own father was something I could be proud of, yet relief replaced my panic—relief that not only I would live, but that everyone else would live as well.
We stood in the immense, crowded courtyard of King Duc’Line’s castle. A month had passed since we’d killed the high sorcerer. I’d experienced my fair share of guilt for killing him, yet as the weeks wore on, and the kingdom repaired the damage he’d done—and prepared for a special wedding—my guilt faded.
Raj held my hand as he walked beside me. He flashed his charming grin, the one that had made me weak in the knees from the beginning. Curse that smile. It brought nothing but trouble, though I had to admit, I liked it.
Odette and the wolf also walked beside us. The dragon woman chatted as she went, and the wolf walked with a lolling tongue and wagging tail. The sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky beyond the towers. After we’d defeated Varlocke, I’d talked to Odette about going back to the witch’s castle to rescue Drekken. She’d agreed but wanted to wait until after the wedding. She had a difficult choice ahead of her: to trade herself for Drekken’s freedom, and I didn’t envy her. But for now, I only wanted to enjoy the day, and I didn’t worry too much about Drekken. He had his flask of ale, after all.
We walked under a wide archway into the palace. Vines with tiny yellow flowers grew up the impressively tall pillars leading to a ceiling with an elaborate mural of a garden. The scent of honeysuckle filled the air. Fairy homes that resembled birdhouses had been constructed atop poles jutting from pillars. Fairies flitted in and out. The soft light emitted from their bodies lit the room in a pale white glow.
At the front of the room sat a wide dais with two ornate thrones sitting atop it. I could hardly believe I was here at Rapunzel’s wedding. Only a month ago, I wasn’t even sure if she’d live long enough to be married. I’d also worried that she would hate the prince and be forced into a loveless relationship, but to my surprise, she’d fallen hopelessly in love with him the moment he’d woken in her tower, and nothing in the world could dissuade her from marrying him now.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so happy for her. She was finally free from the tower, here in this beautiful place, marrying someone she loved and starting a new life.
At the edge of the crowd, I spotted her, and left my friends to walk to her. She smiled as I approached, and I had to blink to make sure it was indeed Rapunzel. She wore a silky golden gown trimmed in pearls around the neckline. The full skirt fanned out around her and swished as she walked. Her hair fell loosely to her shoulders. No longer impossibly tangled and weighing her down, light, wispy strands fell around her face. She was still thin, but her face had filled out a bit, and her rosy cheeks looked nothing like the gaunt skeleton I was so used to seeing.
“Gothel!” Her face lit up as I approached. She hugged me so tightly, I had trouble breathing.
“Rapunzel,” I said as she pulled away. “You look like a different person. You seem so happy.”
She squeezed my hand. “That’s because I am. I’ve never felt happier. To be honest, the past five years spent in the tower seem like a dark blur. I hardly remember any of it.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Yes, I know. But what about you? What will you do now that you’re not guarding me?”
“I don’t know yet.” I didn’t want to let my disappointment show. I certainly didn’t have the possibility of a future like hers, where I would attend balls, eat feasts every day, and dress in fine clothes. “I might go back to the village and set up a shop. I could sell herbs, tinctures, and such. It would be a quiet life, which would suit me well after all the commotion I’ve been through. I’ll have Jester with me for company, after all. He’s been staying here in the castle temporarily, but he hates being confined. I have to admit—I do as well. Life in the village will work out well, I think.”
“Yes, that sounds lovely. I will visit as often as I can.”
I smiled. “I would like that.” Though in truth, I couldn’t imagine she’d have much time to travel to a remote village to chat with a lowly cat lady.
Prince Merek walked toward us, and Rapunzel smiled so brightly, her face transformed. No, this was no longer the sickly, half-sane girl I’d known in the tower. She’d broken free from her cocoon and transformed. She was a princess walking on clouds, and a tiny pang of jealousy pricked me.
He took her hand and kissed it, and I had to admit, with his sandy, wind-swept hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, and finely woven clothing, he was every bit of the prince I’d read about in fairy tales. Rapunzel was getting her happy ending—and I was returning to the village to live alone once again.
Unless…
Was it wishful thinking for me to hope I might have a different future? One where Raj was a part of it? Since we’d defeated Varlocke, he hadn’t said anything about a possible future between us. Granted, he’d been Prince Merek’s most trusted confidant, and they’d been busy redrawing borders and making negotiations with outlying kingdoms. We’d barely seen one another, and the idea had struck me that perhaps I had no place in his life now. But now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for myself, or to pine over what might have been.
Trumpets blared, announcing the arrival of King Duc’Line and the queen as they walked onto the dais. The room quieted.
“This is a new day,” the king said. “No longer will our lands be massacred by a tyrant, for today, we celebrate the union between my son and the heir to High Sorcerer Varlocke’s throne, Rapunzel!”
Cheers erupted as Rapunzel and Prince Merek climbed the dais to stand beside the king and queen. The king continued his speech, and my mind wandered. Something about being reunited and destroying evil for the good of all the land. I did pay attention when he described the defeat of the high sorcerer, which relied much more heavily on his son’s sword and his unshakable bravery. My name was mentioned in passing, which I supposed I couldn’t expect much more than that, as I was the illegitimate daughter of the high sorcerer—a witch who had been a servant to Varlocke.
By the time the ceremony and feasting came to an end, I was thoroughly exhausted, and after a brief goodbye to Rapunzel—which I had to fight through the crowds to give—I headed by myself out of the castle and to a quiet hill overlooking a valley, away from the throngs of people.
I stood under a tree as I looked out over the steep gorge, watching the sun as it made its final descent into night, streaking the sky in shades of purple and lavender. A sense of calmness came over me, and
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