“Sir, Trusty must have run farther than usual,” said one of them. “We haven’t seen him yet. But we’ll split up to cover more ground, and I’m sure we’ll have him back at camp in no time.”
“Thank you,” said Prince Mick, and though he appeared a bit anxious, he turned a smile upon Rapunzel. “Now. What’s the matter?”
Rapunzel only sniffled. She didn’t care about princes. She didn’t care about anything.
Prince Mick crouched down beside her and lowered his voice. “I came this way partly to search for Trusty, and partly because I heard you crying,” he said. “Were you attacked? Are you in trouble?”
Rapunzel looked down at Prince Frog in her hand. “It’s my frog,” she said. “He’s … he’s …” But her voice broke and she could not say it.
“Dead,” Jack supplied.
“Ah,” said Prince Mick. “And this frog was a friend?”
Rapunzel nodded.
“I’ve lost friends like that,” said Prince Mick. “I had a beautiful russet hound who died when I was eight, and I still think of him every day. What happened to your frog?”
“H-he froze. In my pocket.”
Prince Mick held out his large, freckled hand. “May I hold him?”
“Can you save him?”
“No — I’m sorry.”
Sorry again. Rapunzel was beginning to hate the word.
“But I can give him a royal burial,” said Prince Mick. “Stay in the Orange camp tonight, both of you, as my guests. We’ll celebrate and mourn your friend together. You ought to come with me in any case — it’s much safer to camp in a group than out here on your own.”
“No,” said Rapunzel, keeping hold of Prince Frog and staring into the fire again.
“You can’t say no,” Jack whispered. “He’s a prince.”
“I don’t care.”
“I understand your feelings,” said Prince Mick. “I wish I could help, but it’s beyond my power. Although, maybe …” He paused. “Hmm. But it’s best not to interrupt.”
Rapunzel looked swiftly up at him. “Interrupt who?” she said. “Is there someone who can help him?”
“The Exalted Council has a camp nearby,” said Prince Mick, frowning. “If healing the frog is possible, one of them would know how to do it. However, he does seem to be past hope, and the Exalted are very —”
“Let’s go,” said Rapunzel, already on her feet. She pressed Prince Frog into Jack’s hands, strapped on her hair, and snatched Prince Frog again. “Take me to the Exalted.”
“You can’t command royalty,” whispered Jack.
“It’s fine,” said Prince Mick, scratching the orange stubble that lined his jaw. “Well. If we’re going to go, we might as well be quick!” He gestured to the small company of servants who had joined him, and they put out Rapunzel’s fire, packed the wagon into the sled, and led the sled dogs back toward the Orange camp.
Rapunzel and Jack followed Prince Mick into the darkness in another direction, their footsteps crunching on the snow.
“Why are the Exalted camped around here, your highness?” asked Jack, struggling to keep up with Prince Mick’s massive strides. “Has there been some kind of trouble?”
“No trouble,” replied Prince Mick. “Commonwealth Green is about to celebrate the seventy-fifth anniversary of their independence from the Pink Empire. People from all over Tyme will meet in the capital to celebrate with Green and support them as they prepare for the Hundred-Year Day.”
“Hundred-Year Day?” asked Rapunzel, out of habit. She stroked Prince Frog’s unresponsive little body with her thumbs, growing more agitated with every step.
“I’ll let my sister tell you all about it,” said the prince. “She’ll be beside herself with joy to have an audience. Ah — this must be it.”
There was nothing before them but darkness and snow and a pair of cloaked figures standing a short distance ahead. Rapunzel broke into a run. When she reached the two cloaked people, she thrust Prince Frog toward them. One was a woman, the other a densely bearded man. Both of them had dark purple stains on their faces — the woman’s looked like a patch over her right eye, while the man’s covered half his nose, vanished into his beard, and reappeared on his lips — and both of them raised their eyebrows at Prince Frog.
“State your name and your business,” said the woman.
“Rapunzel. I’m looking for someone who can fix my frog.”
“Fix your frog?” The bearded man glared at her. “This is an official embassy of the Exalted Council, not some wandering passel of animal healers.”
“Perhaps you could make an exception,” said Prince Mick, coming up behind Rapunzel. He placed his freckled hand on her shoulder. “As a special favor to me.”
“And who are you?”
“Prince Mick the Magnificent of Orange.” He bowed slightly. “At your service.”
“Oh!” The bearded man gave such a violent and awkward bow that he nearly tripped. He wobbled as he straightened up, holding his hands out for balance. “I beg your pardon, your highness — couldn’t see you — do forgive me….”
He bumbled on for a few moments more. The woman gave a neat, silent bow, turned away, and vanished into the darkness.
“Where did she go?” asked Rapunzel, holding Prince Frog close to her chest.
“Into the camp,” said the bearded man. “But they — they’re all in a meeting — that’s why I didn’t show you in immediately.”
The darkness behind him wavered and shimmered, and an arcing doorway materialized. Pale silver light spilled through it into the snowy night. The woman with the purple-skinned eye appeared in the archway and beckoned to Prince Mick.
“Welcome, your royal highness,” she said. “Won’t you come in?”
Prince Mick stepped into the silver light and passed into the camp. Rapunzel went after him, clutching Prince Frog. Behind her, Jack sucked in a breath of awe.
The camp was full of light. It was not bright or glaring; Rapunzel didn’t have to squint against it. It was simply everywhere, as though the camp existed inside of a bright bubble. Rapunzel could see the wall of this bubble, in which the door still stood, but the wall was soft and hazy; the trees and snow were still visible through it. Black tents stood in a wide ring just within the outer rim of the campground. In among these tents were carriages and horses, being tended by servants who wore glowing orbs of white light at their belts. In the center of the camp was what looked like a large pool lined with rocks, full of the same silver light that had spilled through the doorway. The light moved like water, and sometimes, droplets of it jumped like little fish, making tiny arcs of light as they dove back into the pool. As Rapunzel watched, the silver light changed to soft purple, and then again to glimmering red. She became aware of a humming sound that sounded almost, but not quite, like a voice. It was as though the light itself were singing one long, soft, unbroken note.
“Your royal highness.”
Rapunzel turned toward the low voice. It belonged to a man who was both older and handsomer than Prince Mick, and though the man inclined his dark head to the prince, it was Prince Mick who bowed lower.
“Exalted Keene, Nexus of Lilac, Superlative of the Exalted Council,” Prince Mick said. “It’s an honor.”
“The honor is all mine.” Nexus Keene gestured toward the pool of light. “It’s a cold night — come and warm yourselves.”
They followed him toward the rock pool, which was now full of rich orange light, like a melted sunset. As they moved closer to the pool, Rapunzel realized that it radiated warmth, just like a fire.
“What brings you here so late?” asked Keene, holding out his hands to the light. He wore an ornate ring on each hand, and these gleamed in the orange glow, as did the silver threads of hair at his temples. His lustrous amulet rested against the leather of his heavy coat.
Prince Mick shifted his weight. “I didn’t intend to trouble you — forgive me if I’ve interrupted critical business. I only hoped to spea
k with one of your apprentices, perhaps.”
“Don’t make yourself uneasy. Tell me what I can do for you.”
“It’s my frog!” cried Rapunzel, who could wait no longer.
Nexus Keene looked at her for the first time. He cocked one heavy, dark eyebrow.
“Is it?” he asked. “Do tell me.”
Rapunzel held out her hands to the Nexus and uncurled her fingers to reveal Prince Frog. The light in the pool turned green, casting a sickly glow over Prince Frog’s lifeless little body. “This is my frog,” she managed. “He froze. I don’t want him to be dead.”
Keene glanced at Prince Frog, and then at Rapunzel again. His gaze flicked from her face to the straps of her hair wheel, and his eyes narrowed. “I see,” he said.
“Can you help him?” Rapunzel’s voice trembled, and she knew she would cry again at any moment. “Will you look at him?”
“I will.”
As he took Prince Frog into his hands, surprise flashed across Nexus Keene’s handsome features, but it was gone so quickly that Rapunzel thought she might have imagined it. He turned the frog over and frowned at his belly. He pressed his clammy underside with two fingertips. He lifted Prince Frog to his ear.
“I must have silence,” he said.
Rapunzel fell absolutely still. She held her breath.
The Nexus listened for a minute or two, and then he nodded.
“This frog is alive,” he said.
Rapunzel gasped. “He’s alive?” she said. “Are you sure? How do you know? He’s so cold, and he isn’t breathing, and his heart —”
“He is hibernating,” said Keene, holding Prince Frog out to her. “It is what frogs do in the cold months. It is a very deep sleep, but he will wake when the weather is warmer.”
“He’s just sleeping?” Rapunzel hardly dared believe it. She took Prince Frog in careful, loving hands. “I didn’t freeze him to death? I don’t have to bury him?”
Keene smiled a little. “He would be happier if he could burrow beneath the mud at the bottom of a pond, or sleep in a pile of leaves,” he said, “in the usual way of hibernating frogs.”
“I have the perfect thing!” said Rapunzel breathlessly. “Hold him, Jack.”
Jack managed to get Prince Frog safely away from Rapunzel, who was so excited that she nearly dropped him in her haste.
“Unwind to the place where you were cut by the bandits!” she commanded, and her braid shot off the wheel and made a massive pile on the ground behind her. She took the plaits apart until she had released the long, shorn lock of hair that the bandits had cut. She pulled the lock away from the rest of the braid and thrust it toward Jack.
“We can put Prince Frog under that,” she said. “Wrap him up, would you?”
She began braiding what remained of her hair, not even minding any longer that it had been cut. If Prince Frog needed it, then that was all right.
“Your hair.”
She glanced up from her braiding to find Prince Mick staring at her.
“Rapunzel,” he said in an awed voice. “I didn’t recognize you … but then I barely saw your face when I visited the tower.”
“I saw her,” said Keene. His eyes traveled the length of Rapunzel’s braid. “I went into the tower room to speak with her.”
“You both visited my tower?” She looked at Nexus Keene. “You were in my tower?”
“You don’t remember?” Prince Mick asked. “I came to free you, but you summoned the witch. I barely escaped.”
Rapunzel’s insides felt cold. “When was this?” she asked.
“It’s been several months,” said Prince Mick. “But how can you not remember? You were furious — you called me a disgusting liar. You said I was just like every prince in every book, and that you would never leave your tower to be eaten by trolls or roasted alive by peasants.”
Rapunzel’s fingers tightened on her braid. “That sounds just like her!” Jack exclaimed, echoing her thoughts.
“But …” Her head pounded. “But I really don’t remember.” She did, however, remember what Glyph had said about how many of her memories might have been stolen. And here was proof that her memory really had been taken more than once. But how?
You know how.
The voice surprised her. It came from within. Rapunzel tried to ignore it but couldn’t.
You know exactly how. Can you admit it?
“Do you remember me, child?” asked Nexus Keene, whose eyes had not left her. When Rapunzel shook her head, he smiled slightly. “Just two months ago, I offered to rescue you, and I told you about your grandmother, who had petitioned me for assistance.”
Rapunzel dropped her braid.
“I knew about Purl?” she asked. “You told me about her?”
“I did.”
“And then what?” Rapunzel demanded. “When you told me about Purl, what did I say?”
“You said you didn’t need rescuing, and that there were no such things as grandmothers in any of your books, and that if I did not leave at once, you would call for your witch.”
Rapunzel could hardly believe it. She hadn’t been interested in hearing more about Purl? She hadn’t even tried to understand what her grandmother was? How could she have been so uninterested, just weeks ago?
But of course she had been. Purl had meant nothing to her. What Nexus Keene said was true: There were no grandmothers in any of her books. There were no mothers either. Or fathers. No Blue fairies or kind peasants, no jacks contests or Exalted Councils, no countries, frogs, or giants.
Nothing real.
Unsettled beyond anything she had yet experienced, Rapunzel looked away from Keene. She told her hair to wind up, and she strapped it to her back, ready to leave.
“Why didn’t you destroy the witch, Nexus?” asked Prince Mick. “I mean no criticism, of course, but your reputation as a witch slayer is known to everyone in Tyme. Why not rescue the poor girl, whether or not she wanted to escape?”
A witch slayer. Rapunzel glanced back at the Nexus. “Did you come to my tower to rescue me?” she demanded. “Or to kill Witch?”
“Both,” Keene replied. “But I could not kill Envearia. She is no common witch. Her power is unprecedented.”
Prince Mick frowned. “Is she a genuine threat, then?” he asked quietly. “The Redlands is the neighbor and ally of Orange — we’ll join Chieftain Fleet in ousting this witch, if need be.”
“I thank you for your willingness,” said Keene, “but Envearia will be handled by the Exalted Council. She may be powerful enough to defend herself from me alone, but many councillors together will bring her down. I intended to return to the Redlands and finish the business after the summit in Independence.” His eyes narrowed at Rapunzel. “But here you are, young lady,” he said. “So Envearia must be dead already. Who killed her?”
Rapunzel shivered. He talked of Witch’s death, and of killing her, as though they were nothing at all. It was the same way the Red fairies talked.
“Envearia’s alive, Nexus,” said Jack when Rapunzel wouldn’t answer.
“Alive?” said Nexus Keene curiously. His eyes gleamed. “Then truly, this witch is like nothing I have encountered.”
As he spoke, the pool of light beside them erupted into a glaring beam that shot up into the sky. Rapunzel winced at its sudden brightness.
“Someone is at the perimeter,” said Nexus Keene, turning swiftly toward the still-open door of the camp. He stretched out a hand, but before he could act, a dog as tall as Rapunzel’s waist came bounding through the opening, barking joyfully.
“Trusty!” cried Prince Mick, and the dog ran to him and braced his big front paws against his chest. He licked the prince’s chin with slobbering enthusiasm as Nexus Keene looked on with an expression of mingled amusement and disbelief.
“Terribly sorry, Nexus,” said Prince Mick, who seemed torn between delight and embarrassment; he rubbed Trusty’s head and tried to get him to sit, to no avail. “We’ll get out of your way. My apologies
again for interrupting a meeting of the council — and for, ah, the canine intrusion.”
“Not at all,” said Keene, returning his eyes to Rapunzel.
Rapunzel didn’t want to be looked at. She took from Jack’s arms the great pile of loose golden hair that swaddled Prince Frog, and she cradled it against her. “Thank you for saving my frog,” she said, and then, to prevent any more conversation, she turned away from the rock pool and walked toward the archway. Behind her, she heard Prince Mick and Jack departing with more formality. She supposed Jack had probably bowed, like he had with Prince Mick. She supposed she should have done the same thing. She wondered when she would learn all the things she was supposed to learn, or if she would ever be able to. Maybe she was permanently behind and could never catch up.
Maybe she would know a lot more if she could remember things.
The camp of the Exalted Council vanished behind them as they left it, and they were surrounded again by the darkness. Rapunzel searched her mind as she tramped across the snow. If Prince Mick and Nexus Keene had both come to her tower, then surely there must be some trace of their visits. She gritted her teeth, trying with all her might to dredge up any flicker of memory, but all she produced was a dull ache in her head. The longer she tried to force her memories to return, the fiercer her headache became.
Perhaps all of them were liars, she thought recklessly. They had lied to her to confuse her — that was what princes on the ground always did in her books.
There is only one liar. You know who it is.
Rapunzel pushed the merciless voice away and thought of Prince Frog. He was alive. She hugged his nest of hair as Jack and Prince Mick caught up to her.
The Orange camp did not sing with magic and light, but it was still splendid. There were several large, circular tents, all striped orange and gold with flags flying from their peaked tops, erected around a massive fire. Among the tents, many white-cloaked and gold-belted attendants were engaged in merry activity. They drank from golden flagons, toasted cheese and bread on long sticks, and sang and danced to delightful, lilting music.
The girl who made the music stood with one foot propped on a chair. With her left hand, she held to her chin an instrument made of glossy wood. With her right, she rapidly drew a long, slender rod back and forth across the instrument’s strings. Her skin, like Prince Mick’s, was densely freckled, and her short, corkscrew curls of orange hair danced as she played. She appeared no older than Rapunzel, who watched her, mesmerized. When the girl finished, the singers and dancers sent up a mighty cheer and begged her for another song as Prince Mick settled by the great fire with Trusty at his knee. Rapunzel and Jack sat near him, Rapunzel still holding Prince Frog.
Grounded: The Adventures of Rapunzel Page 22
