Into the Wild(49)

“Julie’s in the woods,” Gothel said. “I saw her. She’s looking for you.”

Zel almost melted into the floor with relief. That was the news? She knew that. “I know. She found me.” She must have found Gothel too. She must have been the one who reminded Gothel who she was.

“Good for her,” Gothel said, smiling. She looked around the tower room. “Where is she?”

Shaking out her hair, Zel got to her feet and looked out the window. Dark green, the Wild stretched like a smothering blanket to the horizon. “She’s on her way to the well,” she said.

Gothel’s eyebrows shot up into the crinkles of her forehead. “You let her go back out there?”

Zel flared up. “I didn’t have a choice! She wasn’t safe here.” Gothel’s silence spoke volumes. “At least out there she has a chance of making it,” Zel said. Again, Gothel said nothing. Zel wilted. Be honest, she told herself. It had taken her years of tries to get there. She’d had to reenact her story countless times before she’d succeeded. Julie was only twelve years old. How could she make it? “She doesn’t have a chance,” she whispered. Oh, what had she done? Sent her only daughter out for the Wild to toy with, that’s what she’d done.

Awkwardly, Gothel patted her shoulder. She didn’t need to say anything. There wasn’t anything she could say.

It’s not right, Zel thought. Julie should have the whole wide, wonderful world, not just this sad set of stories. She deserved more than “ever after.” She should have every day, new and unique.

For a long while, Rapunzel and the witch stood side by side silently at the window looking out over the green expanse of Wild.

Zel smiled briefly, remembering. “You should have seen her—facing down the Wild. Determination in her eyes. I was so proud of her.” The smile faded. “I wish I’d told her that.”

“You told her what to wish for if she gets there?” Gothel asked.

Zel nodded. “Her heart’s desire.”

“She might make it,” Gothel said. Zel heard the doubt in her voice.





Chapter Twenty-two

The Mysterious Princess from Unknown Lands

Once upon a time, there was a girl in a forest. . . .



She had a knife at her throat. The blade felt cool, smooth, and flat. A hand held her arm, and she felt breath on the back of her head, warm on her scalp. She looked out at trees. Sunlight came down between the trees in shafts. The forest was green and gold. Except for the heavy breath behind her, it was silent. Not even a leaf moved.

The girl tried to turn her head slightly, and the knife pressed against her windpipe. She wondered if that was a bad thing. Behind her, her captor began to sob. “Forgive me, princess,” he said—a deep voice, one she didn’t recognize. “The queen’s mirror says that you, with your skin as white as snow, are the fairest in the land, and so the queen has commanded me to kill you.”

Princess? Queen? Kill? She clutched at his knife arm as fear coursed through her so suddenly that she felt dizzy. “Please, don’t!”

He released her, and she scrambled away from him. She backed against a tree. She wanted to run, but the same fear held her feet frozen. She rubbed her throat as the man buried his face in his sleeve. “I could never hurt such innocence,” he said. “I will kill a deer for the queen and tell her it is your heart she eats instead.”

Someone wanted to eat her heart? “Please,” she said, “let me run away.”

“Run away, then, you poor child,” he said. “The wild beasts will soon catch you.”

Her legs started moving, almost on their own. Leaves snagged her hair, and she stumbled as her shoes snagged on roots and rocks. Branches curled like claws over her head. Knots and holes leered like faces. She heard beasts roaring, and she kept running and running . . .

Exhausted, she stumbled over a root and sprawled onto the pine-needle-covered ground. Above her, wind moved the trees, and branches seemed to reach for her. Unable to help herself, she started to cry.

“Why are you crying, Girl?” a kind voice said. “Do you wish to go to the ball?” An oak tree made a popping sound. Bark swung open like a door, and light poured out of the trunk. Surprise stopped her tears.

Briefly, she wondered what she was surprised at: the sudden voice or the fact that the tree had a door—but the thought felt unimportant and Girl let it drift away.

Getting to her feet, she stepped cautiously toward the tree and peered inside. Through the opening, she saw a marble hall lined with pillars. She drew back, again feeling surprise. This time, she was sure she was surprised at the tree: it was larger inside than outside. But it was hard to hold on to the feeling of surprise. She supposed this must be how trees were.