by Laura Kenyon
Rapunzel tapped her glass. Part of her wanted to jump on this tangent, while another wanted to exhaust the subject of Grethel’s cancer until they brainstormed a cure. Finally, Grethel made the decision for her.
“The universe—or the ancestors, or the powers that be, or whatever you want to call it—considers every spell individually. Restoring Ethan’s sight didn’t count as a curse, I guess, because it was done to right my wrong. So I still have plenty of magic remaining. As long as I’m alive, Ethan will see as if I never threw him from this tower to begin with.”
“Oh, that’s great news,” Rapunzel said, feeling vindicated to hear that Grethel’s threat was empty the entire time. “Because I need to ask you a favor and was afraid you’d have to take his sight away in order to—” She stopped, five of Grethel’s words coming back to haunt her. “Wait. What do you mean as long as you’re alive?”
Grethel took a deep breath and looked at Rapunzel. Her eyes said it all. When she died—whether from cancer or skydiving on her one-hundredth birthday—all of her magic would fade with her. “I’ve been trying to find a way to keep Ethan’s spell going,” she said, rubbing her locket again. “I have the charm all ready, but my powers aren’t strong enough to enchant it. I haven’t given up though. I won’t give up. Promise.” She let go of the necklace and gave Rapunzel’s hand a one-two tap. “Now about this favor…”
It took a few seconds for the question to break through Rapunzel’s mental fog. “Oh. Right. Favor. You see, I—”
“I’ll do it,” Grethel interrupted.
“You’ll do what? I haven’t even said what it is.”
Grethel eyed a five-inch thick binder she’d brought down from her office. It was overflowing with newspaper clippings and candid photos from Rapunzel’s post-tower life. “If you want me to be a part of Ruby’s triad in the hopes of saving your friends,” she said, “I’ll do it.”
“How did you know about Ruby’s—”
“Like I said,” Grethel replied with a smirk, “I’ve been everywhere. You just haven’t seen me.”
Rapunzel then went over all the details, most of which Grethel already seemed to know.
“There’s only one problem,” the fairy said when she finished. “I can be in Marestam in the blink of an eye if time is of the essence, but it’s going to take more than a day for you all to get there. Unfortunately, my powers don’t accommodate any passengers when I evaporate.”
“Well,” a gruff voice sounded from the doorway. Donner was standing there with his arms crossed, a silver flask in his hand, and Ethan behind him. “It’s a good thing I’m here then.”
Rapunzel rolled her eyes but didn’t turn around. “What are you talking about?” she said, not in the mood for his games. “You’re not a pureblood. The only way you’re going to disappear is if you fling yourself into the ocean.”
He crossed the room in three quick steps. “I don’t have to be a pureblood,” he said, grabbing hold of Rapunzel’s wrist—and the bracelet wrapped around it. “This has a one-way connection to Belle. And it can take two of us.”
“Two?” Rapunzel blurted as Donner unclasped the bracelet and stuffed it in his fist. “But what about—”
“Sorry mate,” Donner interrupted, tossing his flask to Ethan. “Take this and look for my plane at Hangar 5D in that podunk town with the red lake.”
Ethan stared back, panning between Donner and Rapunzel with his mouth agape. He held the flask out as if to return it, but Donner insisted. “Trust me, you’ll need it more than I will. Long day of travel ahead of you.”
“Now,” Donner said, wrapping his hand around Rapunzel’s wrist again and giving her a wink. “Shall we?”
Rapunzel’s mouth sprang open to protest, but before her vocal chords even began to tremble, she found herself careening through some sort of mind-altering vortex, flying past doors and through beams of light. Her brain felt like it was going to squeeze out between her eyeballs, and her stomach was just about to explode when her body collapsed against the cold, hard ground. She heard the pre-sunrise call of a barn owl, felt grass and dirt between her fingers and saw … oh no. Snow White’s cottage. The bracelet had taken them straight to Tantalise. It had taken them straight to Rye.
Chapter Twenty-One
DONNER
Donner was on guard the moment his feet hit the ground. He didn’t know what he expected to see, exactly. A home nurse, perhaps. Mountains of flowers urging a speedy recovery. Belle, mortified and lunging for the nearest sharp, hard object.
But instead, he saw towering shadows against a dark periwinkle sky. He heard crickets chirping in every direction, a few birds summoning the sunrise, and a lone barn owl. He smelled dirt and grass and an herb garden that made him wonder whether Belle had taken up residence at a Marestam fraternity house.
Then he squinted at the roofline in the distance, and noticed the veiled square of light on the second floor.
“Are we on Tantalise?” he asked, leaning down to pick up the quivering figure by his feet.
Rapunzel responded with a quick punch to his chest and a deafening reprimand.
“Shhh!” he commanded, ducking as if her words could turn into flying bullets at any moment. “I don’t want to wake anyone up. Do you know where we are? Is this Tantalise?”
Reluctantly, Rapunzel wiped her thighs and wobbled around a few times. “Yeah,” she said, patting the white fence with her hands. “This is Tantalise all right. Home of the world’s most understated palace and two monarchs who decide royal policy by consulting the stars. Why did you bring us here?”
Donner struck that iconic one-leg-bent, arms-crossed in confusion stance and dug into his thick, dark waves. The sound of his nails scratching along his scalp was amplified out here.
“She must be inside,” he said, suddenly pitching forward and wrenching the gate open.
Rapunzel scurried after him. “Who? Belle?” She somehow managed to squirrel her way between him and the front door. “This is Snow and Griffin’s house,” she said, forcing an exasperated smile that he could see right through. “Why would Belle be here? If she left the hospital, she’d be at my place with Beast. I’m sure of it.”
Donner leered at her. The ring, or now the bracelet, didn’t take wrong turns. “She has to be here,” he growled, reaching beneath her arm to grab the doorknob.
Rapunzel stuttered for a moment, as if her thoughts were working on a delay—or struggling to make up a story. “But … but she can’t be here. Why would she go here? She’d want to be close to the hospital, and the inn, and—”
She bit her tongue. Donner stopped short and loomed over her. “And what?” he said, though he knew exactly what she was about to say. And him. Gray, as if that was even a name. Gray the degenerate, disingenuous groundskeeper. Gray the reformed gang member attempting to steal his wife and child. But that’s not why he was here now. He was here to swallow his pride. He was here to show Belle how sorry—how truly, gut-twistingly ashamed—he was for what happened. He was here to hoist the white flag and give up ninety percent of what he wanted . . . in hopes of salvaging the most important part.
Rapunzel rubbed her foot into the flagstone and gave a distracting smile. Donner knew instantly that waiting for her to continue would just be a waste of time. She was just trying to keep him from reaching that illuminated window up there.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shoving her aside and pushing through the door. Figures the Whites would leave it unlocked. They probably didn’t even use locks. They probably didn’t believe in them.
The house was tiny and the glow from beneath the stove vent lit his path straight to the stairs. Donner took them three by three, pounding onto the landing in four strides. There was a linen closet to the left, a half bathroom to the right, and a narrow hallway that rolled out a few feet and then curved. He inched down slowly, even though he could hear Rapunzel pounding along the floor below him.
When he reached the end, the pounding was replaced by humming. No, singi
ng.
Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Mama’s gonna catch you a mockingbird.
And if that mockingbird don’t sing, Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.
Donner held his breath. That was definitely Belle’s voice. What was she doing?
And if that diamond ring turns brass, Mama’s gonna give you a looking glass.
His hands felt blindly for the doorframe, even though there was enough light to guide him, and clamped down.
And if that looking glass gets broke, Mama’s gonna build you a sailing boat.
When he peered in, Belle was facing the other way. She was pacing the tiny room—the tiny nursery—with what looked like a child-size pillow and a bundle of blankets in her arms. Was she practicing for motherhood? Had his rampage caused damage to her brain?
And if that sailing boat turns over, Mama’s gonna find you a four leaf clover.
Just as Rapunzel raced up behind him, his throat clapped shut and his breath stopped. The pillow in Belle’s arms moved. He looked at Rapunzel to confirm. The expression of defeat and worry said it all. Belle wasn’t practicing her midnight feedings for when the baby arrived. She was actually caring for a baby. But whose baby was it? He was so paralyzed with fear, wonder, and awe, that he barely noticed she was beginning to sway in a circle, rotating from the far wall to the curtained window to the doorway.
And if that four-leaf clover turns brown, you’ll still be the sweetest lit—
She screamed. The baby jerked in her arms and then howled. Two more sets of feet pounded up the stairs. Griffin and Snow froze two feet away from the pileup, the latter waving a bat in her hands.
“What on earth is going on?” Snow shrieked. Her raven black hair looked like a raven black sheep’s coat after a hurricane.
“Donner? Rapunzel? What are you doing here?” Griffin demanded, edging behind his wife.
At that moment, Donner recalled hearing something about the Whites finally adopting a baby. Belle must have been helping them. But this early in the morning?
“Donner?” Belle said, shielding the baby from his view as Rapunzel rushed to her side and whispered something into her far ear.
Donner saw her glance at the bracelet still clutched in his fist. He immediately opened his hand and extended it as if he was surrendering a dagger. “I was supposed to give this to you on Friday.”
Belle shook her head and flicked her palm up towards him. “Please don’t,” she said. “I don’t want jewelry from you.”
Donner’s jaw opened to explain that it wasn’t just jewelry—it was his freedom. He was giving her the stone that sat in the middle of the ring that had been passed to the firstborn men in his family for generations. He was giving her the ability to go anywhere she wanted in the blink of an eye, just by touching this bracelet and clearing her mind for a moment. He was giving up his ability to disappear to Avalon … to avoid prison … to pop in on his kid even if Belle refused to give him visitation—since now, custody was undoubtedly out of the question.
“I also wanted to apologize,” he said, inching forward. He felt his throat tightening up all over again, but in a different way. “I’m so, so sorry.” His hands fell together, but he didn’t want to fall to his knees. He didn’t want her to worry that his anguish was anything but genuine. He didn’t want her to think he could be putting on a show, because he wasn’t.
The truth is he hadn’t slept for days. And it wasn’t just the frigid cinderblock walls or the patronizing taunts of his neighbors that had kept him awake. It was the shame. Everything he’d told Rapunzel back in that tower was true—he and Belle had never been each other’s true love. By the time she came around, Donner’s heart was shattered beyond repair. And though Belle had done a spectacular job of gluing it together, there was just no way she could replace his Karen.
Yes, she’d been married to someone else, but that man was a monster—a real monster—and her love for Donner was true. He should have begged her to leave him. He should have promised to make her a queen no matter what society said. He should have pissed on social convention and royal propriety and followed his heart. Had he done that, the love of his life wouldn’t have become a decomposing corpse in her murderous husband’s attic. Blue Beardsley. Blue mother-fucking Beardsley. Serial killing husband who deserved to be hung inside out from the rafters at Marestam Central Prison, not preserved there.
But none of that was Belle’s fault. Donner had been wrong to try and change her. He’d been wrong to use her like a paper doll over which he could drape some remnants of his Karen—not that she hadn’t done the same with him, in her own way. As soon as all the excitement from their fairy tale wedding faded, he could see the disappointment start to settle in. He had come with the right exterior, the right accessories, and the right bank account. But contrary to all the stories she’d read as a child, he wasn’t the man of her dreams. Even before they started having problems making children, he could see that.
But he never intended to hurt her. If he couldn’t have Karen, there was no one else he wanted more than Belle. She’d saved him in every way a flawed man like him could possibly be saved. He owed her everything. Standing here now, he couldn’t believe the way he’d behaved with her sister. He couldn’t believe he’d acted so terribly to her—more so than he’d ever acted under his original curse. It was almost as if he’d spent those months under some sort of drug-induced fog, intent on destroying everything that held him up and everyone who tried to help him stop.
“Rapunzel?” he heard Belle say, pushing the baby into her arms. She was giving him a strange look, watching curiously as his fingers tore at his right eyebrow—a nervous habit he thought he’d broken years ago. He pulled his hand down as her eyes widened. “Can you … can you take him downstairs with Snow and Griffin? I want to talk with Donner alone.”
Rapunzel gawked back at her.
“It’s okay,” Belle insisted, nudging her toward the door. “I’ll be fine.”
After another minute and a few more hushed assurances, the audience retreated and Belle shut the door behind them. Donner didn’t want to speak until Belle addressed him directly, so he picked a spot beside the crib, clasped the top rung, and stood there like a child waiting to be punished.
Her first move was toward the glider, where she bent over to pick up three picture books and place them on the built-ins. Then she gathered an empty bottle and two tiny blankets, which she carefully folded into squares. He watched as she did this, thinking she looked radiant but extremely tired. All of her chestnut waves were pulled over her left shoulder and secured with a tortoise shell clip. Her blouse was unusually disheveled, and one of the buttons was undone. Her mascara was slightly smudged, which probably contributed to the perception that she had sideways crescents etched beneath her eyes. This was not the overly made-up Belle he’d lived with for the last five years. This was the organic Belle he’d always wanted but suppressed by holding on so tightly to his first love. He saw that now.
Watching now as she took a transitional breath and floated toward the window, Donner had an overwhelming desire to march forward, wrap his arms around her, and hold on tight. He wanted to just stand there as she nestled her head safely beneath his chin. He wanted to feel her heart thump from her chest into his. He wanted to undo everything he’d done to her over the last week … six months … five years.
But he wasn’t brave, or presumptuous, enough to do it.
Finally, she spoke. “What happened?” The words were soft, as if not actually meant for his ears. “I keep playing the pieces back in my head,” she said, still staring at the curtain with her back to him. “I don’t understand.”
Donner’s fingers fell from the crib. He took two steps across the room, then stopped. Was she talking about the Phoenix—or their marriage?
“Even when you were cursed—I mean the first time—I never saw you like that. I could always get through to you. What was different this time?”
Donner shook his head as he tried to
come up with the words. “I … I don’t know.”
The curtains shifted as Belle let out a puff of disapproval, as if he’d just given the wrong answer on a midterm. As if he wasn’t trying hard enough to answer the question. Though perhaps he wasn’t.
“Belle,” he said, pressing his palms together. “I didn’t go to the Phoenix that night intending for anything bad to happen. I swear. I was determined to be a new man for you and our baby. I was thrilled that somehow, the universe was giving me a second chance. After all I’d done. I should have known that was too good to be true. I didn’t deserve it.”
Belle shook her head and spun around. She pointed an angry index finger towards the carpet.
“Then what happened?” she demanded, beating her finger at the last two words. “Why did you go from hopeful, soon-to-be father, to raging, homicidal maniac? Forget about me, you could have killed our child—your child. You know, if it wasn’t for—” She bit her lip as if contemplating whether to continue. “If it wasn’t for your curse, you actually would have. He actually would have died.” Donner’s head jerked up. “That’s not an exaggeration, or a guess. That’s a certainty. The curse is the only reason he was strong enough to—”
“Wait. He?” Donner stumbled in place, as if poked by the sudden flicker of light inside his chest. But just as quickly as it ignited, however, it dimmed again. Belle was glaring at him.
“Rapunzel told me you know about the curse,” she said. “I just assumed Matilda Holt used a pronoun here or there when she broke the news.”
“No,” he said, staring at the floor. Rapunzel had called their child “he” back on the island, but Donner hadn’t thought anything of it. Now, the news made him feel simultaneously elated and devastated. He looked at her belly—the belly that should have been such a huge part of his life now. The belly that should have been his favorite thing to touch and talk to over the past few months. It somehow looked a little smaller than the last time he saw her. Then again, she’d been in a wheelchair. That must have been why.
