Rapunzel and the Griffin Prince

by Savage, Vivienne

  Maxence sighed. “Then perhaps you should retire and join her in bed, Father. I’m home now. Go rest. Tell Mama I’m home safe.”

  Moussa’s mouth pressed into a tight, disapproving line. He stared at his son for a while longer then left the room.

  The tension in Maxence’s shoulders didn’t fade until his father was gone and a door clicked shut above them.

  “He’s worried sick for you,” Sebille scolded.

  “Easy for you to say when you’ve—” Maxence blinked. His gaze darted from Sebille to Rapunzel and Muir, eyes widening to comical levels of disbelief. “Your Highness?”

  Rapunzel smiled. Sebille’s brother was a good man. She’d always thought so, even when they’d both been on the eve of puberty and he’d become too flustered to play with them anymore. “Hello, Maxence. Eventful night?”

  “Oh, well….” He looked away and rubbed his neck.

  Sebille placed her hand on her brother’s arm. “It’s all right, Maxence. They know about the resistance and your attempts to find them. They’re here to help.”

  Maxence clenched his jaw and studied them. Rapunzel held her breath while she stood under his quiet scrutiny, and relaxed when he nodded. “Is it true what Sebille told us of you being poisoned?”

  “It is. I’ve been captive in the palace for a long time. Joren attempted to overthrow our father days after receiving a message from someone in the rebel’s camp. Now we’re here to bring news to the resistance and to offer whatever aid we can.”

  Muir folded his arms against his chest. “Your father seems to think you are searching for the rebels.”

  Maxence nodded again. “I’m not searching for anything. That’s just what I tell Papa to keep him from really worrying. I’ve been part of it from the beginning.”

  “Good, then you can take us to them,” Muir said.

  “Now? All of you?” Maxence’s gaze darted toward his sister.

  Muir nodded. “Yes, the sooner the better. I’d—”

  Rapunzel touched Muir’s hand and gave a tiny shake of her head. Then she turned to her maid. “Sebille, go see to your father. There’s no need for you to be involved further.”

  “Are you sure, Your Highness?”

  “Your family needs you right now. The less involved you are with the rest, the safer you’ll be.”

  “All right. Please be careful, all of you.” Sebille returned upstairs and closed the door.

  “Thank you for that,” Maxence said. “Come, we’ll have to move fast and quiet, but I can get you where you need to go.”

  * * *

  The rebellion’s headquarters, if they could be called such, were located in an old butcher shop in the lower west side of Floren on the outskirts of the markets. This place wasn’t so far from the docks, and the streets were dim outside, an area once lively long after dark now dead and silent. They’d entered through a rear door in an alley.

  Rapunzel followed Maxence deeper inside the old warehouse, through their cold room where sides of beef hung on hooks. The smell of butchered cattle and livestock hung heavy in the air.

  Maxence stepped into the room ahead of them. Through the gap between his shoulder and the door, Rapunzel saw over a dozen men sleeping on cots by the rear wall. There were three more men gathered around a table featuring a map of Floren.

  “This is where they keep the black powder,” one man said, puffing furiously at his cigarillo. White smoke clouded the air, fragrant with the familiar aroma of cloves. “We’ll also have to disarm the mage—”

  Maxence cleared his throat.

  The gruff, smoking speaker glanced up. His gray brows knit in consternation. “Didn’t you just leave?”

  “Yeah. Glad to see everyone didn’t follow behind me. I’ve brought company,” Maxence announced to the group. When he stepped aside, Muir and Rapunzel entered the room.

  “My goodness. It’s the princess,” a distant whisper reached her ears from one of the cots. “Take caution. They claim her to be mad and crazy.”

  Men moved for their arms, and a sense of general unease settled over the small room. Rapunzel raised her hand to Muir’s arm when he reached for his sword.

  “No. They’re right to be afraid of me. I would be afraid of me.”

  The man with the heavy mustache strode forward to meet them, and as he came nearer, recognition flooded back to Rapunzel of an older, retired naval officer her brother had sailed with years ago. In fact, she had seen his name on a poster less than an hour ago.

  “Captain Milo? You’re with the resistance?”

  The old man grinned uneasily. His hand rested on the grip of his holstered flintlock pistol. “Indeed I am, Princess Rapunzel. I hadn’t expected to see you here. Where is Joren?”

  “My brother….” Her throat tightened. “He will not be joining us this day. He was in the castle when our mother released an awful magical attack. We don’t know of the outcome, but it is safe to assume it is unfavorable for all of us. I know what you all must know of me, what you’ve heard over the years, but I ask you to please hear me out.” Muir shifted, ever a fount of support and courage beside her. “To hear us out.”

  Low murmurs went up amongst the men. Many of them were awakening, or being shaken by others to listen to their exchange.

  Milo frowned. “Forgive me, Princess, but you seem to know something I do not. When your brother wrote to me, he made no mention of the queen. Only your father.”

  “My father is dead. The true power behind the crown these past years has been the queen. I’ve spent years captive in a palace tower as she’s told lies, abolished our council, and mistreated Eisland’s people. Please believe me.”

  “It’s true,” Muir said. “I was with Joren during the attack. He remained behind so the princess could be freed.”

  “You must be our new prince. Word reached Floren of the wedding.” Captain Milo offered his hand, and they shook.

  “Muir.”

  “A pleasure, Prince—”

  “Just Muir.”

  Milo arched a brow and looked from Muir to Rapunzel, but said nothing of it. “Joren spoke highly of you and your prowess with the sword during his final correspondence to me.”

  “His swordsmanship is the least amazing thing about him,” Rapunzel said. Muir glanced at her, but she continued, a surge of pride taking control of her tongue. “He is a shapeshifter from Cairn Ocland with a great gift.”

  Low murmurs filled the room with rising excitement.

  “A dragon?” asked one rebel.

  “No.” Rapunzel raised her chin. “Better. And now that we’ve confirmed the existence of a rebellion in Floren, we’re willing to do whatever it takes to free the city from Lord Emberlene and, gods willing, rescue Countess Tasia.”

  Chapter

  Something wasn’t right.

  Muir clasped both hands together behind his back and observed the city streets below the butcher shop through a grimy window. The rebels without wanted posters had been sent into the city for reconnaissance in the early hours of the morning, some of them checking in frequently with updates.

  At first, Muir had voiced doubts about Captain Milo’s unusual plan, but as the afternoon passed, he saw the brilliance in the old war hero’s scheme. Still, he couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that something had been overlooked, even as hope spread like a flowering blossom, sweeping from one corner of Floren to the next.

  Desperate men and rebel sympathizers gathered in small groups and pairs at the five strategic rendezvous points set by Milo. By afternoon, the original thirty-four rebels had swelled to a crowd of two hundred men, not all of them battle trained, but each one eager to scratch and scrape out of poverty. The rebels came from all walks of life, many objecting members of the city watch and other forms of law enforcement across Eisland. A small handful belonged to the Royal Navy and had spoken of possible mutinies that had been long coming. Hook wasn’t the only captain who had loathed dealing in slaves, merely the first to listen to his heart and stand up ag
ainst the crown.

  As for Muir, they’d given him strict instructions to remain off the streets, claiming his red hair and manner of dress marked him as foreign and different. Instead, he’d observed from the warehouse’s second story windows since he awakened, viewing what he could with his enhanced sight.

  The humans had been impressed by his ability to pick out the most innocuous details at a distance without a telescope.

  They’d also been happy when he revealed the mirror, his lifeline to Captain Vandry and the other shifters. Using the magical device, he gave orders to Faolan and Sòlas to remain aboard the Twilight Witch until he called. A griffin’s cry could be heard for miles.

  Milo stepped up beside him. “I imagine a man such as you wouldn’t be a stranger to battle. Are you ready, Your Highness?”

  Muir twitched. Despite his requests, the royal title may as well have been branded into his chest. “I was raised in blood and battle. For years, my kingdom was embroiled in a war with one neighbor and attacked from within by another dark force.” He paused before adding in a quiet voice, “Let us hope Eisland fares better and we bring this to a swift resolution.”

  Milo nodded.

  A fight broke out down below, initiating phase one of Milo’s plan as a gang of men intercepted a city watchman en route to his post. They clubbed him from behind, and chaos broke out in the streets. Across the road, the man awaiting relief charged forward, drawing his sword, only to be felled by a blow to his head.

  Rapunzel was waiting for them on the lower level, watching the spectacle from the safety of the doorway as citizens fled the scene. There were many more battles like this throughout the city, and they all wouldn’t be easy.

  Muir studied her gray, ashen face and her shaking hands. She wrung her fingers together and stared outside, eyes wide.

  She isn’t ready for war. She has no business participating in this mad scheme.

  “Are you prepared, Princess?” Milo asked.

  “No. She isn’t,” Muir said.

  The liveliness returned to Rapunzel’s eyes as she turned to him. “I’m ready.”

  “Hardly. You’re shaking harder than a leaf in a thunderstorm. Have you ever watched a man die?”

  She raised her chin. “Twice. Executions. And I daresay both had earned it.”

  “This won’t be like that. Men will die on our side, and they won’t have earned it,” Muir said, closing the distance between them, stepping into her space. He took both of her hands. “Men will bleed and die this day, Rapunzel, good men. Remain here and let those of us who have seen battle be the ones to—”

  Rapunzel jerked away and jabbed his chest with one finger. “No! I won’t sit here and hide while people fight in my name. You weren’t always experienced with battle. Once, it was your first time too, and I won’t allow you to shut me out.”

  Muir sighed. Looking at her, he didn’t think she would last five minutes. “You will stay by my side, do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “When I give an order, you will follow it.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do what you can to cast defensive magics,” he continued, setting his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to harm anyone.”

  “I can do this,” she whispered.

  “Then let’s go.”

  They moved through the market’s streets at a quick pace with Milo’s rifle squad. As per the plan, the watchmen had been removed and most citizens evacuated, but that still left the garrison and the contingent stationed at the governor’s estate. As part of phase two, they would spring Countess Tasia and anyone loyal to her from the jail. Afterward, they would march on Château d’Anise.

  A tickle raised the hairs on the back of Muir’s neck. “Something’s wrong.”

  “What is it?” Rapunzel whispered.

  “I can’t place it or describe it, only that something is wrong.”

  A rebel glanced over his shoulder at them. “It is like the smell of the sky before a storm,” the man said. “You know it’s coming, but never can predict where the lightning will strike. It’s good to be on guard.”

  “Right,” Muir said, though he knew there was something else amiss.

  A loud noise cracked to Muir’s right, and a man fell screaming to the ground as the acrid odor of gunpowder filled the air. He’d been only a few feet away from them. Less than arm’s distance of Muir.

  “Take cover!” Milo shouted.

  Muir grabbed Rapunzel around the waist and dragged her behind a stack of crates filled to the brim with fruit. She crouched and remained by his side, her face pale and sweat glistening on her brow. Milo and his remaining men ducked into cover at various points in the square.

  “Those blasted things,” Muir growled.

  Rapunzel peered over the top of a crate. “They only hold one round. Once a man has fired, it takes moments to reload with another bullet and more gunpowder.”

  “So I gather, but….” He tried to count, but the enemy had chosen their ambush site well, many of them concealed. “There’s at least a dozen. We’re outgunned.”

  Rapunzel set her jaw. “Then let me flush them into the open.”

  “Ra—”

  Before he could protest, she darted out of cover and closer to the action. A shot narrowly missed her, although it skipped across the surface of something semi-translucent and ricocheted into the snow nearby.

  A shield. A magical shield. He hadn’t seen it until it repelled a round destined for her small body.

  In the next moment, dozens of dangling icicles tore from ledges and came crashing down. A man standing beneath a building’s overhang threw up both arms to shield himself, startled as snow piled on a roof slid like water over the ledge and rained down around him like frozen spikes.

  Her diversion worked.

  “They have a mage!” someone shouted on the enemy’s side.

  “Not just any mage,” Milo chortled as Rapunzel scooted into cover beside him. She forced a weak smile to her face. “Can you use that ice to create some cover for us, Your Highness?”

  “Yes.”

  A wall arose from the dirty snow and brown slush stamped into the roads, becoming a thick, opaque shield partially covering the way into the square. Rounds crashed into the rough surface to no effect aside from a few hairline fractures.

  “Now!” Milo shouted when the last thump of iron against ice signaled the end of the enemy’s rounds.

  The small group charged around the barricade with their swords at the ready and guns loaded. Muir joined them, aware of Rapunzel to his rear. Protective magic surrounded him like a radiant second skin alight with a sensation he could only describe as her. Compassion and warmth, the essence of the woman he’d vowed before their Eislandic gods to protect with his life.

  One last shot careened off that magical shield, a final bullet wasted by a man lurking behind an abandoned carriage. He deflected the first stroke from Muir’s sword, only to be felled by the next. With the danger of the opposing force dampened by Rapunzel’s magic, the captain’s rifle team discharged their guns and made short work of the enemy.

  All was calm moments later, and they hadn’t lost another man.

  “That was an excellent show of magic, Your Highness,” Milo said.

  “Thank you.”

  “May we encounter no one else en route to require more of it,” Muir muttered.

  They had just made their way to the edge of the city when a young man charged from a side street, sweating profusely despite the dark stains of blood on his brown woolen coat.

  “Captain!”

  Milo paused and spun toward him, hand on his sword hilt. “What is it?”

  Their messenger bent with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. “An army. There are hundreds of men approaching from the west. It looks like the queen may have predicted we’d do this, because she’s sent the royal army.”

  “Gods. Hundreds you say?”

  At that moment, a flaming projectile crashed into the b
uilding beside them. The structure shuddered and collapsed, consumed by a great explosion while dark gray plumes of smoke rose toward the sky.

  Rapunzel shrieked and dropped to a crouch with her magic flaring around them in a wide dome. Instinctively, Muir bent over her, though it wasn’t needed. Soldiers marched into view down the snow-covered street. Then another squad flooded from an alley and cut off their retreat. Riflemen stood at the forefront of each enemy line.

  “Close us off from the rear!” Milo shouted.

  Rapunzel created another ice wall to guard their rear from taking fire, as Muir transformed and charged into the group, throwing his bulk into them and taking the unprepared men off their feet. They scattered like mice before a larger predator, several screaming, one shooting wildly. A ball flew harmlessly between Muir’s flight feathers.

  He’d overstepped the boundaries of Rapunzel’s spell, not that it mattered, because in the next few seconds, he closed his beak around a soldier’s shoulder and shattered the bone. He shook the man, thrashed him into a wall, and pounced the next with his front claws. The sword strike meant to fend him off slid through his breast feathers and left a narrow slice. Hot blood welled from beneath them.

  “Muir!” Rapunzel shrieked.

  He swung around in time to see the man he’d crushed—the wounded soldier should have been in too much pain to even contemplate attacking again—was now on his feet, left arm dangling uselessly by bits of connective tissue and bone. He rushed Muir with his sword in his offhand.

  Quicker than Muir could move, a barrage of ice crashed into the advancing one-armed attacker. Rapunzel stood at the source of the assault, flushed with exertion as a stream of chilly power rushed from her outstretched hands and stopped Muir’s assailant in his tracks, frozen beneath a thin layer of ice with an enormous, translucent spear penetrating his torso.

  Then gunfire shattered the wall behind them, and they were exposed again.

  Another explosive arced above in the sky. It landed on the opposite side of the road where it took out the rooftop of a shop and sent debris clattering everywhere, obliterating the front of the building and crumbling its emerald awning.