Hidden: Rapunzel's Story (Destined Book 2) Read online

  I served meat pies to a group of boisterous young Hawk clan women. Their warm bodies and perfume made my head ache, and they pressed against me from all sides, jostling against me to snag pies and wine from my trays. I’d been ensconced in my tower for three weeks, lonely and untouched. Now, the crowd was simultaneously too much and not enough. My absorbent power stretched as though waking from a long sleep. I couldn’t help but be aware of the life pulsing around me, the invisible magic that rushed through every living form, putting breath in their lungs and pumping their hearts.

  My conscience knew these lives were not mine to take. But my magic? It wanted to absorb every last bit of life it could find.

  A man slid his hand around my gold-clad waist. I gritted my teeth but managed to ask, “Would you like some wine, my lord?”

  He was a young Wolf, and clearly, he was already quite drunk. One heavy strand of black hair fell into his eyes. He leered down at me as his grip tightened on my waist. “I’d like a little something else,” he mumbled.

  My magic pulsed. His life flowed against my skin. If only he knew who he was touching. But I would do him no harm. I couldn’t, thanks to the Wasp’s command. Even if I could, I didn’t want to. I couldn’t resist the Wasp Queen’s control, but at least I still had a conscience. Perhaps a bit of food to absorb the drink in his stomach wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  I sidled out of his grip and gave him a meat pie instead. “Have something to eat, my lord.” Then, I made my escape.

  The Wasp Queen stepped into my line of sight. She raised one eyebrow at me, and I made my way over, my feet moving of their own accord across the crowded ballroom floor. I held out a glass of wine.

  She took it and leaned in close. “Rapunzel, he’s the one. There, with the gold-topped cane. Kill the one I speak to.”

  She flitted through the crowd and approached a man with a cane, waving her hand in greeting.

  He was an elderly Wolf with salt-and-pepper hair slicked back from his forehead, and his belly was soft and paunchy under his crisply pressed, white shirt. He rubbed his thumb on the top of his cane—a carved, wolf’s head made of gold—as the Wasp Queen approached him.

  He bowed over her hand and kissed it. They exchanged words, and she walked away, hips swaying as though she hadn’t a care in the world.

  I could only gawk as the pieces fell into place. My target was no lackey. He was the head of the Wolf clan, the host of this gathering. She’d just ordered me to start a clan war.

  Chapter 2

  The command to do no harm lifted, and the new order squeezed around me like a hungry, powerful snake.

  When I had no resistance left, I moved numbly across the floor and approached the man with the gold-topped cane.

  I kept my face blank. The last thing I needed was to be caught on an outing with the Wasp Queen. I’d be tortured until I gave up my clan, and then I’d be put to work in the same fashion for a new clan. I hated the Wasp Queen, but life would be no better with a new clan. Quite possibly, it would be worse.

  Nausea rocked my stomach as I crossed the ballroom. I hated this part—the feeling that my body wasn’t my own, the horror of destroying a man’s life. The clansmen were far from innocent, and the Wolves were more violent than most. But still, a life was a life.

  He was three steps away. Two steps. I offered him a meat pie. “Hungry, my lord?”

  He raised an eyebrow but then shrugged. “Why not?” He took the pie, and his fingers grazed mine.

  And that was all I needed. My magic inhaled like a starving creature, and a heartbeat later, his life was mine.

  I turned on my heel and strode away as quickly as I could. Behind me, his body thumped to the ground. I focused on the double doors, balanced my tray, and dodged guests in my flight. The chaotic ballroom masked his collapse for a few moments, but as I neared the doors, a voice cried out for a healer.

  Immediately, I added my voice to the tumult. “Healer! Get a healer!” I rushed forward as though on a mission to find a healer, but I knew better than anyone it was far too late for that. He was gone.

  A man by the double doors caught my eye as I neared him. He watched me with an odd expression on his face. Tall and well-built, the stranger had wild, brown hair, ruddy cheeks, and several days’ beard growth on his jaw. His fine clothing held no trace of a clan marking. Who was he? A foreigner? And why was he staring at me?

  I had no time to worry about such things. I exited through the double doors and shouted at Magda, “Healer!”

  She gaped at me, and I repeated, “Healer, they need a healer.”

  The staff manager who’d smuggled me in met my eyes as Magda left the room. He jerked his head back in a nearly imperceptible motion, and I walked to the end of the room and slipped through the door where we’d entered. He didn’t follow. I was on my own from here.

  The Wasp’s first order, to do no harm, had been lifted automatically by her kill order, since my True Name could never accept contradictory commands. The second always canceled the first. And my kill command had already been completed.

  For the moment, I was under no one’s control. These were the moments I lived for.

  I wove through the dim maze of hallways, wobbling in the impractical gold sandals until I finally stumbled out of the doorway and into the back courtyard. The evening wind whipped through the thin fabric of my dress and made my teeth chatter.

  There was the same small door in the gate I’d entered through. I could leave the compound through it, assuming it was still unlocked, but the Wasp’s fomecoach and guards would be waiting to pick me up. What if I could find another exit? I could escape before she had the chance to issue a new command.

  I raced through the courtyard and skittered to a halt in front of another gate on the far side of the compound. I yanked at the handle, but it was firmly locked. I grabbed the upper bar of the fence and pulled with all my might until I was high enough to reach a toe up to the bar. I levered my body to the top of the gate. The iron spikes at the top pressed into my stomach. I winced but kept moving. Pain I could take if it meant I could be free.

  A spike ripped through my dress, and a sharp, hot feeling told me it had pierced my skin as well. I ignored the pain and scrambled over the fence, landing in the street with a bruising crash, a pile of limbs and shredded gold fabric.

  I tore off the worthless sandals and chucked them beneath a bush before racing along the street. My bare feet ached. I saw movement from the shadows by the Wolf compound fence and dove to the left instinctively, pelting down a narrow alley. I couldn’t risk meeting a witness.

  The alley was dark and filled with puddles, broken cobblestones, and mud. My heart pounded wildly, and my chest heaved. I had never come so close to escaping. I’d never made it so far on my own. This could be it! This could be the time that I finally—

  A bone-crushing weight hit me in the back and sent me sprawling, planting my face in a foul puddle of what I hoped was mud. I struggled under the pressure, straining to move my head to get my nose and mouth out of the muck, but the heavy force wouldn’t let me move.

  My lungs cried out for air, but I inhaled mud instead. The pressure was unbearable. I would suffocate. I would die here. The Wasp had finally tired of my escape attempts.

  Just before I succumbed to the darkness, she let me up. I staggered to my feet and turned around, gasping heavily.

  The Wasp Queen smirked and pointed at the fomecoach waiting behind her. “Rapunzel, get inside. And don’t touch anyone.”

  I obeyed stiffly, gasping for air, my whole body bruised. For the thousandth time, I cursed my fate. The Wasp Queen wasn’t just a human clan leader. She was a powerful expellant mage—a mover mage. And no matter how fast I ran, she always found me.

  ~

  I huddled against the side of the fomecoach in my torn, muddy dress, trying not to cry. The Wasp kept looking over at me with a smug, superior smile, and I’d never wanted to use my power against her so badly in my life. The fact that I was restrained on
ly by the order not to touch anyone made the car ride even more maddening. She loved to keep me close without a true “do no harm” command, as though she enjoyed showing me how little she feared me, reminding me I could never truly hope to escape her.

  Why did I keep trying? Why did I do this to myself again and again, nearly dying at her hands each time? I should have given up long ago. What was wrong with me?

  The fomecoach bounced and rattled as it swung around each corner at top speed. I held my body as still as I could. My bones ached with each movement of the coach. I longed to be home in my tower, to lie down in my little bed and huddle beneath the covers, to pretend this night never happened. To forget the Wolf man’s shocked eyes as I took his life. To forget the feeling of mud filling my nose and mouth. To forget everything.

  But I could never let myself forget.

  Five years ago, my childhood tutor Master Oliver had come to say good-bye to me. “You’re ready,” he’d said gruffly. “Nothing more to teach you. You’re on your own now.”

  I’d hoped he would be pleased with my progress the way the Wasp Queen was, but he’d grown surlier as our training progressed.

  “Thank you, sir,” I’d said hesitantly.

  He only scowled. “Don’t thank me. Not ever.” He ran a callused hand through his gray hair and let out a huff. “A piece of advice, girl. She’s got your will. There’s no changing that. But you’ve got your own mind and your own heart.” He glanced over his shoulder at the window as though expecting the Wasp to come through at any moment. “Just don’t forget that. Got it? And don’t shut things out. The things you’ll do … the things you’ll see … you’ll want to shut them out, forget they ever happened. Don’t do it. Those things will teach you. They’ll make you stronger. They’ll separate you from her. And that’s the most you can ask for.” His eyes glistened. “Mourn them, girl. She can’t stop you from mourning or remembering them.”

  At that, he’d left and never returned.

  I’d been utterly confused. Mourn whom? Remember whom? I didn’t want to mourn anyone. I wanted to survive and make the Wasp Queen proud enough to let me out of my tower.

  Not long afterward, I’d learned what he meant. There was no point in trying to please the Wasp. I was too dangerous and too valuable. She would never free me from the tower, but she couldn’t stop me from mourning and remembering the victims. My victims. And sometimes, those memories were all that kept me from going mad.

  I closed my eyes in the dim fomecarriage and shut out the scent of the Wasp Queen’s heavy goldblossom perfume. I pictured the Wolf man’s face in my mind’s eye, imagining his raised eyebrow and the bemused way he took the meat pie from my hand. The Wolf clan was full of ruthless killers. Everyone in Draicia knew that. But he’d been someone—a brother, a friend to someone. And I’d taken him away.

  I’m sorry. I imagined whispering the words to him in my head. It’s not enough. But it’s all I can give you.

  The garden was chilly so late at night, even in summer. Cold wind ran down my back as I stood at the bottom of my golden ladder and faced the Wasp. I was nearly doubled over from pain where the spikes on the Wolf compound gate had stabbed me in the side. Blood oozed from the wound, soaking the thin dress and dripping down my leg.

  The Wasp stood before me, wrapped in a black cloak over her red evening gown, and tapped her chin. My head ached from exhaustion, but she looked positively energized.

  “Rapunzel, Rapunzel,” she said softly. “What do I do with you? You’re the most disobedient pet in the city, and yet, you’re just so … useful.” She tapped her chin again. “Rapunzel, put yourself back in your tower and stay there. Oh, and Rapunzel—you may touch whomever you like.” She gave a tinkling laugh at her little joke, and my bruised, blood-soaked body dragged itself obediently up the gold ladder, pain shooting through me with every rung.

  Chapter 3

  I awoke to the sound of someone coughing outside my window. I sat up in bed, body aching, and checked my side. The bandage I’d attempted last night before collapsing was dark red.

  My side stabbed with pain as I rolled out of bed and went to the window, shoving my wild, blonde hair away from my eyes. Helis again. The Wasp Queen’s new appearance mage stood beneath the window, a canvas bag over her shoulder.

  What exactly would Helis have done if her hesitant cough hadn’t woken me? I huffed out an annoyed breath, but I was too glad to see the canvas bag to tarry. I lowered the gold ladder down as fast as I could, and my stomach growled hungrily as she climbed it.

  To avoid frightening her, I waited several steps away from the window. After an eternity, she finally flung the bag up and over the windowsill without even daring to climb high enough to peek her head through the window. The bag landed with a satisfying thump on the floor.

  Fine with me. It wasn’t as though I wanted to see her anyway.

  I rushed to open the bag, my hands fumbling with the tie at the top, and I pulled out a honeybread loaf wrapped in cloth. Finally! I shoved it in my mouth, accidentally taking a bite of cloth with it. I spat out the cloth and continued to scarf the bread down. Sweet relief. The taste of real, fresh food distracted me from the pain in my side. I sat on the floor like the street urchin I was, enjoying every bite of that rich, filling honeybread.

  The last mouthful disappeared far too quickly. I scooted back a few feet and rested my back against the rumpled edge of the bed to inspect my side. I needed a clean bandage, and soon. Perhaps … I pawed through the canvas bag and nearly crowed aloud when I found it. Mage-craft healing salve.

  I stripped off the blood-soaked bandage and spread the salve on my side before I relaxed back against my bed, enjoying the cooling, numbing effect. It must have been high quality because moments later, my wound healed over completely. I sighed. The Wasp definitely didn't want to lose me. The thought brought no satisfaction. As long as she was determined to keep me, she would never allow me to escape—not even to escape through death.

  When the gash in my side had faded to a thin red line, I rose from the floor. I sank into the soft, worn chair by the bookshelf, curled my legs beneath me, and pulled out my journal and pencil.

  How many times have I tried to escape and failed? Twenty? Thirty? I’ve lost count. Is it truly worth the pain?

  After all, it’s not actually me killing these poor souls. It’s her. I’m not the one in control. She is. Maybe I should just give up and stop trying. Just do what she says. Stop making things so difficult, so painful. Why do I torture myself like this?

  I shook my head even as I wrote the words. Maybe I would never be able to escape, but for the sake of my victims, I had to know I’d done everything I could. That meant trying to escape whenever I had a chance and paying the price for failure.

  I know why. I echoed Master Oliver’s parting words to myself, words I’d written in the journal so many times, I could have scribbled them with my eyes shut. She has my will, but she’ll never have my heart and my mind. I’ll never give up. That’s the one thing she’ll never take from me.

  ~

  I changed into my training clothes with a renewed sense of purpose. I knew what I had to do now. Get faster. One day, I’d run so fast she couldn’t catch me. I’d run straight out of this forsaken city, and I’d never look back.

  My daily warm-up sent me moving back and forth across the round tower room I called my home. My bones and muscles ached from the night before, but I was newly energized by the honeybread and by my plan to improve my speed.

  The early summer air was warm but still breezy, and the wind sent welcome drafts through the windows of the tower as I worked. The midday sun shifted out from behind the clouds, brightening the tower so I had no need of the luminous lamps to light the room.

  After a few minutes of aching movements, I stopped and dragged the furnishings to the walls. I’d need more space than usual if I were to improve my speed. Then I got back into my warm-up routine, jumping into the twists, turns, rolls, and flips Master Oliver had taught
me during the years of training when I’d learned to be a more efficient monster.

  I stretched my arms high above my head. I could do this. I had to do this. First thing, I’d work on my—

  A thump came from the window behind me. I whirled around. A tall man climbed right through it and into my tower. He leapt to the ground and stood before me, his face flushed, his chest heaving.

  “Your ladder.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “You left it down. Pull it up, or they’ll find me.”

  I gasped. I’d forgotten to pull it up when Helis left! What had I been thinking?

  “Haul it up. Please! Do it quickly, before they arrive.” He strode toward me, and I took a quick step back. “I’d do it, but they might see me in the window. Better for them to see you.”

  I moved to pull up the ladder and had it halfway up the tower before I realized he hadn’t used my True Name to command me. Even if he’d heard the Wasp speak my True Name, he wouldn’t be able to use it to control me. My True Name had to be given for it to work, and the only person I’d ever given it to was the Wasp, in exchange for sparing my parents’ lives. She hadn’t kept her end of the bargain.

  I finished yanking the golden ladder up out of habit. There was no one below me, although the garden had gone strangely silent. When the ladder was up, I stepped to the side to spy on the group of guards in the Wasp clan’s colors who raced into the clearing. They searched the empty clearing and left, ignoring me and my tower completely.

  I looked back at the man who stood near the tower wall, watching me with a slight smile on his face. He was broad shouldered, with heavily-muscled arms, unruly brown hair, and a rough beard on his cheeks and chin. He wore plain black clothing and boots, with no markings or clan signs of any kind. This was the same man I had noticed at the Wolf compound by the double doors.

  His size and beard made him seem mature, but the humor glinting in his eyes spoke of youthful fearlessness. Perhaps he was not much older than me. Did he not know who I was?