Authors: A C Gogolski
Every evening after helping Miss Elder clean up in the kitchen, Nell was free to do as she wished. She spent most nights exploring Rapunzel’s old prison. Though Nell could walk around the entire base of the tower in ninety eight steps, the interior was immeasurably large, and the rooms were all unlocked. Just like her conversations with Lady Zel, wherein no subjects ever seemed taboo, every room in the sorceress’ tower was similarly open to her. All she needed was a light to see them by.
Roaming the place by night reminded Nell of the darkness underground. She found it exciting and somehow comforting at the same time. Of course, she now had Rawley by her side, and for light, Nell gripped the stone that had dropped at her feet when the dragon went up in smoke. The shining marble reminded her of Swst, the candlewisp. So in honor of the kindly spirit, she called the jewel a ‘candlestone.’ It shone green and blue in her hand, and Nell found it could brighten intensely whenever she willed it.
Most chambers that she explored were similar to rooms that she used to clean back at the castle. There was even an ornate mirror, carved with a serpent border, which she was sure she had also seen in the castle. Every room had some assortment of curious objects to examine: statues, wooden carvings, trinkets, bowls, globes, tapestries, carpets, clocks, mirrors, and even fountains. However, though there were plenty of books, Rapunzel’s tower contained no vast library as she might have expected.
Occasionally Nell met Mr. Lambert roaming the halls: his wooden toolbox in one hand, a lantern in the other. He never questioned why she was out of her room at night, and always had a kind word to
say. The old handyman was about the same age as Peter Domani, but much more vigorous and youthful. A thick shock of salt-and-pepper hair framed his red, smiling face, making him appear boyish. Lambert had his own room in the tower, and fixed whatever needed repair – seemingly at all hours of the day. Long after dinner he puttered about, measuring, straightening pictures, replacing lamp oil and fixing clogged sinks. “I love this tower,” he once told Nell, “Besides, I’d rather spend my days trying to be useful than waiting around to die.” He often made comments like that about death, always laughing at the prospect of his demise. Nell learned that Lady Zel permitted the man’s daughter and grandchildren to stay in the tower as well, but they were away for several months on pilgrimage.
Miss Elder, the plump woman who did the cooking, promptly retreated to her own quarters after dinner. She was never much for conversation, but in her quiet way she taught Nell quite a lot about how to prepare a meal: which herbs go together, how to discern flavors, and the elements that must be in harmony for the proper presentation of food. Though polite, she made no attempts at befriending Nell. Once the plates were washed and the crockery put away, Miss Elder bade Nell goodnight and was not seen again until morning.
One evening, while wandering in some of the lower levels, Nell heard Lady Zel’s voice. The words were muffled, yet there was concern in them. Nell hushed Rawley and tiptoed closer to the door. Pushing gently, she clenched her teeth lest it should squeak, but the door inched open without a sound. Covering Swsty, she peeked into the room.
The sorceress sat below one of the few windows found in the tower. Stars twinkled in the night sky behind her head. To her left sat Miss Elder, daintily holding a cup and saucer, and studying the carpet at her feet. Though she had never seen them together outside
of mealtimes, Nell realized at once that the quiet cook must be Lady Zel’s apprentice. Both women shared an unnamable quality, but there was no time to consider it now. Across from Rapunzel sat the hermit, looking none-too-pleased. He rubbed his gray-stubbled chin, arms crossed, as an unknown woman to his left spoke.
Here was a person of obvious nobility. Fine and slender, the lady seated next to Peter wore a dress of silver silk, with a necklace of sapphire and diamond. Her eyes were a deep peacock blue with flecks of emerald, brilliant against her pale skin. She reminded Nell of Ryan, and suddenly she recalled the noble lady on the docks, the day the king returned. Was it truly Queen Pharisij speaking to the hermit? Nell couldn’t think of anyone else who could be as beautiful.
In a measured tone, the lady was saying, “…I doubt Rhiannon would be so careless as to let the Aureate perish in flames. She knows he is the only one who might give over the Word she so desires. Destroying the tree would be madness.”
Lady Zel tapped her finger on her chin, “According to an eyewitness, she is now quite mad.”
Peter shook his head. “I have been to see the tree many times this season, and I can tell you that there are no buds on his branches, no leaves, no life. It’s well past mid-summer and the burned parts of the weald are starting to recover. But everything within the great circle of stones is dead – including the Aureate.”
Everyone was silent, contemplating the loss of the old tree and the recklessness of the fire. Finally the exotic woman asked Lady Zel, “What about your guest and her parasite? Last time we met, Peter presented a suggestion that none of us were comfortable with. We agreed to meet tonight in hopes that this course could be avoided.” She sighed. “I can say that over the past six weeks I’ve had the castle library scoured, but there is no information on the Stair of Stars.”
Miss Elder spoke next, “I have sat for six hours each night, waiting in silence, but no answer has come. Even the Word Occulynt has shown me nothing.”
“It was so with me as well.” Lady Zel replied. She looked to the hermit, “Peter, are you sure want to go through with this?”
The old man snorted. “Well, are you? If we succeed, you’re the one who has to give Rhiannon the Word, and a task that fits her disposition. I only need to get Nell to the Keep.”
At the mention of her name, Nell tensed, leaning closer.
The Keep?
Did Peter mean to take her to the Widow’s castle? Her heart pounded in her chest.
“Did you hear something?” asked Miss Elder. Everyone turned toward the door, which hung slightly ajar.
Nell fell back from the opening in horror. She squealed as she stumbled over Rawley lying at her feet. Uncovering Swsty, she rolled off the dog and leapt up to race away – but Lady Zel suddenly stood in the hallway behind her. “
Nell
,” the sorceress said, her long silver hair glowing green in the light of the stone. But when she saw what the girl was holding, the edge in her voice disappeared. “What is that in your hand?”
“A candlestone. Well, I don’t know what it is really, but that’s what I call it.”
Lady Zel took Nell by the shoulder and marched her into the meeting chamber. “Let’s have a closer look at that, shall we?”
Everyone stood as Nell was shown into the room. “We were just discussing a few plans. Would you like a cup of tea?” The sorceress posed the question in an even tone, as if she hadn’t just caught the girl eavesdropping.
Nell wasn’t sure what to do. There was the splendid Queen Pharisij – straight from one of her childhood daydreams – standing ten feet away, and Lady Zel was asking about tea. After a moment of awkward fidgeting on Nell’s part, the sorceress said, “Oh, of
course. You haven’t been introduced. Queen Pharisij, this is Nell, my houseguest for the summer. Nell, this is your queen.”
“A pleasure,” the queen smiled.
Nell curtsied as best she could. Oddly, something about the woman seemed familiar. “Did I ever meet you before? I mean, I guess that’s not really possible.”
“Yes, we met once, Nell. I didn’t know you then, and so I masked myself to your vision.”
“The unicorn!” Nell exclaimed. “That was you!”
The queen laughed. “You are very perceptive.”
“Yes, well done child,” Lady Zel said detachedly. “You know everyone else here, so now you can tell us where you got this stone of yours.” She held it up to a candle and suddenly a kaleidoscope of color turned on her face. “It trembles in my hand, like it’s alive.”
“Don’t you remember?” Nell asked. “I said that after I answered the dragon’s questions, a little stone fell down at my feet. I think it’s a gift from the candlewisp that led me from the well. That’s why I call it a candlestone.”
“Possibly,” Lady Zel mused. “Have you ever heard the legend of the candlewisps that haunt the marsh?”
Seeing Nell shake her head, the sorceress said, “Long ago, little people like Tomkin didn’t have to hide in the woods. They lived all over, though they kept mostly out of the affairs of men. They were called the Groomlanen. A good people, mostly, and quite magical. Each was born with a Word that came innately to him or her.”
“You mean they were born able to use the Wealding Word?” Nell asked.
“Yes, some were. The Wealding Word is just one of many Words of power. There are thousands of Words, and hundreds of variations of each. Imagine, an entire vocabulary of magic, embodied in a single race. Just like mankind, some of the Groomlanen were
noble and worked tirelessly,” she paused, “and some were selfish and destructive.”
Peter took over. “But the bad ones ruined things for the good ones, three hundred years past. So as punishment, they were forced underground, and there they drowned in darkness, exiled from the sun.”
“Even the good ones?” Nell asked.
“Even the good ones,” Lady Zel said. “A few escaped into the weald though.” The candlestone in the sorceress’ hand burned a bright blue like the stars outside her window. “The Groomlanen who remain, like Tomkin, now use their magic mostly to hide. And the ones who have died… they too continue on in their own way, as candlewisps. Always the spirits try to show people their sunken kingdoms, as if bringing new eyes could repair the past.”
The hermit said, “Trouble is, most of the time their route underground is a bit too direct. They forget that the people following them cannot pass through the veins of the earth as easily as they can. Many end up drowning under a candlewisp’s spell.”
Nell remembered Tomkin speaking about his people, and how they cried out when their kingdoms fell into the ground. She wondered if Tomkin knew that one of his cities lay right below the marsh. The spirits of the Groomlanen in the subterranean lake didn’t seem all that bad. Swst was good, Nell was sure of it. He had even helped her escape the Malady. “The candlewisps blinked at me. Three times. A whole bunch of them. I think they were trying to tell me something.” Nell frowned. “But I was too tired. Their city was pretty and all, but I just wanted to be warm again.”
Lady Zel was thoughtful, “Perhaps they did tell you something. Not every Word is spoken,” she held up the glowing stone.
“This stone
could be what they said. May I keep it for a few days to inspect?”
Nell bobbed her head at Lady Zel’s courtesy. “Yes, of course.”
“Good. Well, it is past your bedtime, Nell,” the sorceress said. “How did you find your way down here anyway? This is one of my private chambers.”
Nell shrugged. “You never lock any doors, so I don’t know where I shouldn’t go.”
“Never lock any doors? Almost every door in the tower is locked, my dear. Mr. Lambert sees to that.” She gave Nell a quizzical look, and then handed her a candle. “Go to bed, I trust you can find your own way.”
The next morning, Nell found Swsty on her dresser. She pocketed the candlestone without much thought, and for the next several nights continued her usual routine of exploring the chambers of the tower. It was four days later when Miss Elder brought out a fabulous chocolate cake after dinner. As they were enjoying the treat, Lady Zel said, “Nell, I have some bad news. The stone you lent me… it seems I have misplaced it.”
Nell had never seen the sorceress look apologetic before. With a mouthful of cake the girl said, “Hmmm? My candlestone? But it’s right here.” She clinked her fork down and then fished the glowing marble from her pocket.
“Where did you get that?”
“On my dresser. I thought you put it there the morning after you borrowed it.”
“No, I didn’t,” answered Lady Zel. She looked truly relieved. “It seems the stone wants to be with you and only you. For a person to survive a visit to the Groomlanen’s realm is extremely rare. To return from it with a magical gift like this is unheard of.”
“Do you still want to borrow it?” Nell asked.
Lady Zel said, “No, I think I know enough about it now. It may be very useful to you when you leave the tower.”
The girl frowned, suddenly suspicious. “What do you mean?”
“Nell, we’ve decided it’s time to put an end to your curse. But it will mean going away from me for a time.”
“What? I don’t want to leave,” gasped Nell. “Is it because I was eavesdropping? I won’t do it again!”
“No, it is not that,” Lady Zel said quietly.
“But the Malady. I thought I was safe from it with you.”
“That is the problem. I can protect you, but it takes an incredible effort – energy that I cannot expend indefinitely. You need to be rid of the Malady once and for all. So, after much consideration, I have arranged for the creature to be banished.”
“But if I’m rid of it, then I’ll have to go to Granlevin and grow crops. I don’t want to go there! I don’t want to be a harvestmaiden!”
“Be that as it may,” Lady Zel said, “it would be a better life than one spent amidst an endless string of calamities. Maladies have ruined entire empires, Nell, and we must rid you of it at any cost – for your sake, and the sake of everyone in the kingdom.”