Page 24

CHAPTER 24

I paced my bedroom in a frenzy. How was I supposed to escape? How could I notify Pollox in time? If he came flying in, he would be shot without a second thought. I wouldn’t be there to help remove the arrow, and he would be just as vulnerable as any man, but without the coordination of someone who had spent all their time on two legs.

Would he be recognized as a man? He had joked about coming in disguised as a dragon tamer. Would he actually carry it out? If only we had a way to communicate.

“Your Highness?” It was my handmaiden Beatrix, who was speaking so quietly I didn’t hear her at first. She was making a spectacle of setting out my meal, arranging the tiny vase of flowers and ensuring that the utensils were perfectly parallel. “Can you hear me?” she breathed, barely audible as her gaze flicked toward the guard at the door.

I nodded, wondering why she had suddenly become so secretive.

“Did the dragon really help that orphanage?” She locked eyes with me.

“He did.” I kept my voice at her same, low volume.

“Do you trust him?”

“Yes.”

Beatrix raised her voice. “Do you need help changing for your midday meal, Princess?” Her eyebrows jumped up and she inclined her head ever so slightly toward the guard again. Understanding clicked into place.

“Yes,” I answered more loudly. “I really want to wear my red gown. You know, that one with the full corset and all those tiny gold buttons up the back.”

“Close the door, Jaxxon; the princess will be changing,” Beatrix called.

The guard obeyed, snapping the door closed with a gruff “Make it quick.”

“My sister works at an orphanage near the border,” Beatrix said in a rush, helping me get changed just as quickly as she spoke. “She told me that ever since the dragon took charge, things have been better for the children. They have food and clothing and even toys. They are saying that the dragon wants to lay claim to the entire kingdom.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t harm?—”

For the first time in my memory, Beatrix interrupted me. “You misunderstand me. At this point, the people prefer keeping the dragon to your father.”

I stared at her reflection in the mirror. Was she being serious? Or was this another of Griffin’s tests?

“What do you mean, exactly?”

She cinched my corset and began fastening the multitude of buttons that ran up my back. “Meaning that that dragon has done more for the people of Rookwyn than King Harrigan ever has. Even with his recent change of heart, it is too little too late. If you are willing to rule without threatening the dragon, you will have a great deal more support from the people. Some people say he was holding you captive, but…” She shot me a shrewd look. “I think you stayed on purpose. Rumors have been spreading.”

“Why would you say that?”

Beatrix smoothed out my skirt and stood. “I’ve been caring for you since you were too young to remember. I know you well, princess, and I think you have a soft spot for that dragon. Based on what my sister told me, he has a sweet spot for you as well.” She smiled at me. “I always did say that no man could handle you. But a dragon may have a chance.”

“Can you contact your sister and have her pass the message to Pollox that I’m being kept here? They won’t let me out.”

“I already did. Word travels fast.”

“And tell him that they have more dragonsbane.”

“I don’t know if I can get a message to him in time, but I can?—”

A rapping came from the door and Beatrix broke off her sentence. “Are you finished yet?” the guard called out.

“Yes, we just finished,” She called back, crossing to leave then turning back. “Enjoy your meal, princess.” She added in a whisper, “I’ll try to get the message to him, but I’m not sure how long it will take.”

* * *

When Beatrix came late that night, she didn’t linger. She only said, “Enjoy your pudding,” and left promptly, without a single word of information about Pollox or her sister at the orphanage or anything. I glared at the creamy pudding, topped with glazed strawberries and a chocolate drizzle. What, was I supposed to sit here and eat sweets while everyone assumed I was a madwoman?

I picked up the pudding, tempted to throw it off my balcony, but spotted a small folded paper beneath the dainty bowl.

I instantly felt lighter. Pollox was coming for me! But just as quickly as it had risen, my heart dropped. Griffin said he had dragonsbane. Would he have the time to get it and shoot Pollox before he rescued me? He had succeeded once before; he very well could deal a fatal shot this time. Had Beatrix been able to warn Pollox in time?

For the following hours, I stayed rooted to the balcony, staring up at the sky as stars emerged and twinkled down on me. I had so many questions that were unanswered. How would I ever be able to stop Father before he truly was assassinated? Would Griffin take the throne no matter what? What would Pollox say when he discovered that Griffin and I were legally married? Once Griffin was made king, would he have any reason to keep me alive? If Pollox were shot, could he make it back to the forest before he transformed, or would his secret be revealed? If he failed to get to me the first time, would he try again?

It felt like a year before a dark shape rose up from near the village and soared toward the castle. Almost immediately, the alarm was raised and soldiers shouted warnings. I waved the torch, hoping Pollox would be attracted to the heat and light.

It worked. My heart leapt with joy as he plummeted out of the sky, gripped me securely in his claws, and pumped the air again to bear me heavenward.

“They have dragonsbane arrows!” I shouted. “Be careful!”

“Hold on, then,” he called back, going into a dizzying barrel roll that set my stomach to churning.

There were several twang s as the soldiers released arrows, all of which zipped past us as Pollox zigzagged through the air, spiraling his way away from the castle.

“We did it,” Pollox gloated. “We?—”

Thwack . From somewhere on the battlements, there was the ugly sound of a catapult launching its payload into the air.

Smack. A thick, glutinous paste splattered against Pollox’s wing.

“What was that?” I called, wishing dawn would hurry up so I could see better. The faint streaks of light in the distance were painfully slow at brightening the sky.

“It felt like a cannonball’s worth of jam,” Pollox laughed, winging his way over the forest. “How childish.” Two thirds of the way to the tower, he began hissing and increasing in temperature, just as he’d done before the first time he transformed.

“What’s wrong?”

His flight pattern became more erratic, as did his breathing. “I think whatever they hit me with was laced with dragonsbane. It feels like it’s burning away at my wing.”

“Land, then! We need to get you cleaned up.”

“No, we’re nearly there. We’ll be safer at the tower. It’s closer than the cave.”

I stared up ahead at the turret looming closer. Each time Pollox groaned and twisted, we would drop several feet. I nearly cricked my neck trying to look around to examine his wing, but couldn’t see anything from my position.

Pollox barely made it to the tower and scrabbled at the roof, trying to hold on while gently lowering me to the balcony and simultaneously roaring in agony.

“Show me your wing,” I ordered the moment I was steady.

It wasn’t pretty. The violently purple gel-like substance plastered against his wing was slowly eating away at the flesh. I used my skirts to wipe off what I could, but each time I touched him, he bellowed in pain again.

“Transform! Burn it out,” I told him, panicking at how much gel was on his wing. Would it kill him?

“A roof really isn’t the best place to transform,” he grumbled, but began to shimmer all the same, twisting in upon himself and shifting. But halfway through his transformation, he gave a shout of pain and slipped.

“No!” I screamed, trying to grab at him as he fell.

I was too slow. Pollox plunged to the ground—with only half-sprouted wings open to slow his descent—and landed in the very same bramble bush that Drake and I had fallen into.

“Pollox!” I screamed, staring over the edge. He had finished transforming but was lying spread-eagled in the bush. My heart attempted to break through my ribs as I watched him. Oh, scales, was he dead? “Pollox!”

He slowly raised a hand and dropped it again. Was that a good sign? Or a bad one? I stared at him, trying to determine if his chest was rising and falling at an appropriate rate, but from this height, I couldn’t tell.

Griffin must know that he had a limited window of time to arrive and kill Pollox. I had to get down and help him. If he was unable to fly me down, I would need to tie together bed sheets or something. But to my dismay, when I turned around, I saw the room’s luxurious interior slowly dissolving, shimmering until it finally faded from view.

“No,” I whispered, staring at the desolate chamber. Only a few random things remained—a couple books, a solitary shoe on the floor, and the gauzy ladder hanging from the trapdoor, much too short to get me all the way down the tower.

A thin, threadbare rug lay musty and dirty on the stone floor beside the empty fireplace. The wardrobe still stood in place, but the air was stale with neglect and wood rot, and it gave the impression of a once beautiful piece of furniture that had fallen into disrepair. No paintings adorned the walls, and all of the windows were so filthy that it was impossible to look out of them.

I pulled open the door to the wardrobe, and a tiny tingle rang through my body, a ghost of the magic that I had felt my first time opening the doors. I flung the doors wide and found…nothing. No beautiful dresses were hung, no shoes littered the floor of the wardrobe. I wrenched open drawer after drawer, desperate for anything that would help me. The only thing to see were cobwebs and dead cockroaches, their legs shriveled up and stuck into the air. If the room’s magic was fading along with Pollox, it couldn’t provide me the rope I needed, couldn’t make blankets appear that I would be able to tear into strips and braid into rope to descend.

Finally, in the last drawer, my hand brushed against something other than dust. The fine-toothed comb inlaid with jewels felt icy under my freezing fingers. I pulled it out and sank to the floor, staring at it. How long would it last before it faded too, just like the final vestiges of Pollox’s life? There was nothing I could do, no way to get down the tower without Pollox to help me.

Idly, I pulled the comb through the hair that spilled into my lap and watched as the strands lengthened. Something in the back of my mind niggled at my thoughts, trying to tell me something…but what? The comb dug into my hair again, and once again, my hair extended nearly a foot.

When the realization hit me, I jumped into the air and began digging the comb into my hair over and over. My blonde hair piled up around my feet, and I had several yards before I began twisting it into a long rope. It was a long way down, I kept reminding myself as I tugged the enchanted comb through my hair repeatedly. Frequently, I had to pause and twist my hair, tying knots where I could to help the strands stay together and strengthen each other. If this didn’t work… I didn’t want to think about the alternative.

After I had a haystack size of twisted and knotted hair, I dragged the pile to the window. Hair weighed a lot more than I expected, and I had to struggle to get it to move at all. My head felt weighed down just by the hair that stretched from my scalp to the floor, never mind the piles dragging through the dust and dirt.

Just as I prepared to shove my hair over, I paused. As intelligent as I considered myself to be, I lacked in the area of depth perception. With all the coiled hair, I had no way to measure if this much hair would be adequate or not, and the mass weighed several times what I did. If I shoved it over, I would be taken down with it. Or if I had gauged the distance correctly, the weight of my hair would be far more than what I would be able to hold up, especially with only my head. My neck would be snapped faster than Pollox could gobble up an ox.

Frustrated, I sat on the mound of golden hair, which felt far softer than any haystack, but which I sank into, my posterior dropping right down to the floor with my feet and arms still stuck up in the air and my nose jammed into my knees.

With difficulty, I extricated myself, squirming until I wiggled out of the hairy prison. I sat on the ground and studied the hair. It wasn’t enough to simply extend my hair the length of the tower. I could tie the end of my hair to the balcony railing and lower myself down, but what would happen if I had miscalculated and ran out of hair halfway down? Griffin had accurately predicted how much rope to use, curse him.

Anxiously, I brought up the comb several more times and twisted more hair. Preventing an untimely death was reason enough to ensure that I had ample amounts of my makeshift rope. Once the balcony was entirely full, I glanced over the side again. Pollox was still down below, but it seemed that he had at least rolled off the bush and was lying on the grass. How much time had passed? Well over an hour since he fell, I was sure.

I wound the end of my hair around the balcony railing, quadruply looping it around to ensure my safety, then heaving on the hair to make sure it would hold. I approached the edge. The towering height still made my head spin when I looked down, and I crouched back down, breathing deeply to slow my heart rate. There was no knight to hang onto, and no harness like before. I was entirely on my own.

After spending several minutes lecturing myself that getting scared would get me nowhere, I held tightly to the hair closest to the balcony, where it was tied. But still, my fear of falling to my death held me at bay. The short fall with Drake near the bottom had been bad enough; I could only imagine how much pain Pollox was in. He had likely broken many bones. I ground my teeth, frustrated at my cowardice. Every time I tried to build up my courage and begin my descent, my feet and hands refused to obey my instructions, and my stomach lurched back toward the room as if desperate to get me as far away from the balcony edge as possible.

In the distance, two horses with riders went galloping across the narrow stretch of dried riverbed, only momentarily visible before they vanished from view again. Had Father sent soldiers? Dragon hunters? They must know that Pollox was injured after his erratic flying. What if it was Griffin?

Anger clouded my vision. If it was Griffin, I would make him pay dearly for what he did.

Using his climbing technique as inspiration, I wrapped my left foot around the hair rope and stepped on it with my right shoe, creating a makeshift foothold so that I didn’t have to hold up the entirety of my body weight with my thin arms.

I lowered myself hand over hand as I periodically released the pressure on the hair wound around my foot and let the hair rope slide up. At least going down was much easier than ascending the rope.

How long did I have before the riders arrived? If only I’d paid more attention during my astronomy classes when the instructor had taught about tracking time based on the sun’s arc across the sky. As quickly as I could without feeling like I was in imminent danger of falling to my death, I made my way down to Pollox. The weight of the comb in my pocket reassured me. If I had miscalculated, I could always use it to continue to lengthen my hair.

Such a fear was unwarranted. My hair wasn’t quite long enough, but I had descended close enough to Pollox that I was able to release my hold on the hair and drop the last few feet to the ground. “Pollox, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, blearily opening his eyes, then furrowing his brow in confusion as he stared at the hair still connected to the tower. “Oh, scales.”

An odd sensation tugged at my scalp, and I looked aloft. The rest of my hair had begun to fall, slowly at first, but faster and faster as it went slithering through where I looped it through the balcony’s railing and came raining down upon me and Pollox.

I hadn’t planned for this part. The hair hit me with the force of an avalanche, knocking me to the ground alongside Pollox and covering us both with a blonde cascade.

“What the—” Pollox groaned. I felt him try to push the hair away.

“Sorry, I couldn’t get down otherwise,” I told him, also fighting to free us. “How are you?”

“You keep asking me that question at terrible times. I was just hit with a catapult’s poisoned projectile and fell off a tower. I’ve had better days.” He managed to claw his way up to pop his head out of the hair, and I quickly copied him. “If you wait, I can transform back and burn away all this hair.”

I looked toward the forest. No one had appeared, but it was only a matter of time. “Well, not to rush you or anything, but there are people headed this way who could be here any minute.”

He stared at me from across the puddle of golden, knotted tresses. “Well, this certainly turned into a hairy situation.”

“With all the near-death experiences we’ve had today, I don’t think this is the time for jokes.” Despite all my fear for Pollox, I couldn’t resist smiling. “So don’t tangle with me. Is anything broken?”

“Dragon bones don’t break.” He struggled to his feet, wincing from time to time. “I hadn’t finished transforming by the time I hit the ground. I have a walloping headache though. The dragonsbane didn’t get to my bloodstream, so I should be able to shift soon, but not quite yet.”

“Rapunzel!” Father’s voice called out. Looking around, I saw him and another rider emerging from the forest across the meadow.

“Quick,” I hissed to Pollox. “You can enchant wood, right? Enchant the comb to be sharper so I can cut this off. I’d rather not have a hundred-foot hair train following me.” I handed him the comb from my pocket, and Pollox stared at it, focusing intently as it began to shimmer.

“It’s more difficult when I look human,” Pollox grumbled, still watching as the comb’s edge began to sharpen and elongate.

“I like when you look human,” I told him, watching as Father and his helmeted companion came closer. “It makes kissing much easier, so I won’t complain.”

Finally finished with the comb, Pollox smiled and returned it to me. “There is that benefit.”

I used the sharpened edge to hack through my hair just above elbow-length, and the last bit fell to the ground as the two riders came and dismounted.

“Rapunzel, thank goodness we found you,” Father said, eyeing Pollox.

“Father, this is Pollox,” I said, hesitantly introducing them. Would he remember his name from when I’d blurted it out before? “Pollox, this is my father, King Harrigan, and…”

“Griffin.” The other man had removed his helmet to reveal the face I loathed more than any other. “And that’s my wife.”

I automatically moved toward Pollox for protection, who wrapped his arm around my waist without hesitation. I’d expected that Pollox would take a step back after Griffin’s claim, but he did nothing of the sort.

“I’m not your wife,” I spat at him.

“Now, now Rapunzel,” Father began in a placating tone. “The rest of the troop is coming right behind us as backup in case the dragon returns. We’ve been through this, remember? You’re confused.”

“I’m not! You’re the one who signed a marriage license on my behalf without my consent.” My muscles were all tensing. In his human form, Pollox was completely untrained in battle and couldn’t even run correctly, and I was equally useless in combat and had nothing other than a small, sharpened comb for protection. If it came down to a match between Pollox and me against Griffin and my father, both of whom were competent fighters, we didn’t stand a chance.

“It’s the dragon fever,” Griffin said, eyeing Pollox up and down and taking a step forward.

Pollox calmly pulled me back, placing himself between me and Griffin. “There’s no such thing,” he said. “And I advise that you stay away from her.”

Griffin narrowed his eyes. “Are you an expert on dragons?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. I’m a dragon hunter, and this woman promised that she would marry me more than a month ago.” Pollox spoke so confidently that both Father and Griffin paused. “I’ve come to collect on her promise. Whatever you recently signed would be invalidated as this woman obviously didn’t give her consent to you, but I have a claim on her, as she does on me.”

Understanding blazed in Griffin’s eyes as he drew his sword. “You!”

“Me,” Pollox answered calmly. “And if you try to steal from my hoard, I won’t hesitate to protect it. Now back away. I won’t ask again.”

Griffin stared around at Father. “Don’t you see?! He’s the dragon! If we kill him and take his heart, we’ll both be invincible!”

“No!” I screamed at them. “I forbid you from harming this man.”

Pollox smiled wickedly, looking more like a roguish highwayman than ever. “I’m no man. I’m a dragon.”

Both Griffin and Father drew their swords, and Pollox shunted me backward to keep himself between me and the weapons.

“Papa!” I screamed at my father, using my childhood name for him. “If you ever loved me at all, at any point in your life, listen to me!”

Father paused, and I saw a flicker of the man I used to know.

“I refuse to marry Griffin. I ran away before, and I’ll do it again. I need you to listen.”

“Don’t pay attention to her!” Griffin shouted in rage. “Just think, Your Majesty, we will have everything we ever dreamed of if we kill the dragon.”

“I was never kidnapped,” I told Father. “I escaped so I wouldn’t have to marry someone I didn’t choose, and I found Pollox. I love him.”

Father’s sword lowered slightly, a pained expression crossing his face. “You ran away from me? You’d rather stay with a dragon than your own father?”

“Pollox helps those in need, as I’ve wanted to do. All the ransoms we’ve collected? We’ve been redistributing it to the people who need it most.”

“It’s true,” Pollox added. “We’ve been leaving gold on the offering altars around the kingdom.”

“Dragons don’t share their hoards,” Father said, doubt in every syllable.

“No, dragons protect their hoards,” Pollox corrected. “And if Rapunzel’s hoard includes all of Rookwyn, then I will defend her right to it.”

Father’s sword point dropped to the ground.

“Don’t listen to them!” Griffin bellowed, his grip tensing on the sword. “They’re lying!”

Father fixed him with a glowering stare. “I am still king, and no one orders me around.”

Griffin locked his jaw. “Fine,” he hissed. “Fine. If you don’t want a dragon’s heart, you don’t have to have it. But I won’t give up invincibility.”

I sensed what he was about to do a split second before it happened. Griffin whirled about and thrust his sword at Pollox’s middle.

“No!” I screamed, shoving Pollox out of the way. He fell, but I was left open, completely vulnerable to the descending blade.

I watched, as if in slow motion, as the sword sliced through the air toward me. Father paled and Pollox fought to transform, but there was no time for either to save me. There wasn’t even enough time for me to save myself. I closed my eyes, knowing that my life had reached an end. I wasn’t invincible like dragons were. The enormity of my human frailty struck terror into the very depths of my soul and I scrunched my eyes closed, prepared for what I knew was to come.

A jarring blow crashed against my ribs so I was thrown back several paces, and a scream automatically tore through my throat. I prepared myself for the waves of pain that would consume me and lead me into death’s waiting arms…but they never came. My eyes flew open. Pollox had finished transforming, and I stared down at where my dress was ripped, but the blade hadn’t penetrated my skin at all.

“What?” Griffin muttered, drawing the sword back in confusion, but then he leapt as a jet of flame licked at his feet.

“She’s invincible. She already earned my heart some time ago.” Pollox’s eyes flamed bright orange as he placed his massive body between me and Griffin. “But you, squire, are entirely vulnerable.”

“And just attempted to murder the heir to the throne,” Father added, stepping forward, prepared to intercept any additional attempt the squire might have made to repeat the action. “It’s over, Griffin.”

A clatter came from across the meadow as Father’s backup soldiers came crashing into view, all breathing heavily as they ran, weighed down by their armor.

“The dragon!” they shouted in alarm, all drawing their weapons.

“The dragon is no longer a threat. Apprehend this man immediately,” Father boomed, nodding at Griffin, “for high treason and attempted murder.”

The men immediately obeyed, casting anxious glances at Pollox as they did so. His tail flicked slightly from side to side, but he gave no sign of aggression.

“Let go of me!” Griffin screamed. “It’s them, they’re the ones?—”

“He has dragon fever,” I said sadly, shaking my head sympathetically. “It’s quite unfortunate, really.”

“He said that you…” one of the men began hesitantly, never taking his eyes off Pollox.

“A misunderstanding. You see, I’ve tamed this dragon. Watch.” I turned to Pollox. “Sit.”

He fixed me with a glower that could have set the grass beneath me on fire. I’ll make it up to you later , I mouthed to where only he could see. I promise.

Pollox dropped his back haunches to the earth so the ground beneath our feet shuddered.

The men let out a gasp of surprise. Other than shooting me a curious expression, Father did nothing to refute my story.

“Can I pet it?” one of the men asked, edging closer.

A deep growl sounded deep within Pollox’s throat.

“I wouldn’t recommend it if you value your hand,” I answered. “He only allows me to touch him.” To demonstrate, I placed my hand on his leg.

Father, who hadn’t shown any desire to approach the dragon, waved his hand at Griffin, who was seething. “Take that bit of vermin out of here. I want him to stand trial within the week.”

“Shall we stay for your protection, sire?” the captain asked, hand still flexing on his sword’s hilt.

“That isn’t necessary, Captain. I’d like to discuss a few things with my daughter. Privately,” he added. “I have more than a few questions for her and her”—he looked up at Pollox—“pet.”