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Nothing I say works, and I shake my head in frustration. I gather my courage to try again, adjusting the hair out of my face. On my fourth phrase, “Who is my mother?” an image appears on the glass.
The same image comes up from last time, but with more detail. The woman’s mouth is open in a scream while a man paces the room. Mother is helping the woman deliver. The image shifts, and I see Mother holding me in the castle, rocking me back and forth with a smile on her face.
“Who is my mother?” I ask again. The image turns blank.
Suddenly, it feels as if I haven’t slept in days. My entire body is drained of energy, and my eyes flutter close. The mirror slips out of my hand, falling out the window, crashing into the garden.
When I come to, confusion fills me as I glance around at my unfamiliar surroundings. I rub my eyes and realize I’m still in Mother’s room. Everything that just happened rushes to me, and I spring to my feet. I need to get that mirror before Mother is home. If it’s broken… well. I hope by some miracle it isn’t.
My heart races with panic. I have to leave the tower to get it. I have no choice.
I close the window, noting the sun drifting past the trees in the distance, and wonder how long I was out. Hurrying, I make sure nothing is out of place. When I am satisfied, I shut the door and race to the window on the main floor. I pace back and forth. There is no way I can use my own hair as a rope to get down and get back up.
With a deep breath, I head down to my floor, straight to the door that leads down. The two floors beneath are supposedly crumbling and broken. I tug on the door handle, but it is locked from the other side. Frowning, I pull again, to no avail.
Tears threaten to fall from my face. I need to get that mirror before Mother finds out I was in her rooms. I lean my forehead against the door and my hair falls along the wooden slats, covering it in brown locks. I sniffle and grasp the cool metal once more.
I have to try again. There is no choice. I pull and the door does not budge. I beg to no one in particular. “Come on, please,” I say desperately.
Once more, I pull. I feel a strange zap in the handle, and when I tug it, this time it opens. I gasp in shock, covering my mouth. “Thank you, thank you.” I don’t know who I am thanking, but it seems appropriate.
I pick up my skirts and rush downward. In consternation, I stare at my new surroundings. This floor is only partly crumbled, as far as I can tell from the moonlight filtering in. There are stones stacked close together, as high as the ceiling, as I walk forward. Once I am through the dark and dusty entrance, though, the room is clear. I spot the next door, and head toward it. Thankfully, it’s unlocked, and I swing it open.
Bracing myself, I step down the stairs. I shake my head in disbelief when I see that this room is pristine. Not even a pile of stones in the corner. The window is caked with dirt and grime, and I imagine the floors and walls are, too. Other than that, it seems to be in perfect, usable condition. Mother lied.
Angrily, I head to the last door, the one between me and outside. I grasp the handle with a light tug, and it easily comes away.
These stairs, at least, prove Mother right. They are destroyed, with only half a step intact, attached to the right wall. I grimace with distaste, wondering how I will make it down with my hair. In the end, I pile it into my arms until only a few feet trail on the ground.
My back to the wall, I carefully step down. As my heart pounds, I slide my feet from stair to stair. Finally, I am at the bottom, and I walk outside for the first time since I was thirteen.
My feet touch the cool grass and I swing my head around, glancing at the trees surrounding me. I take a step toward the garden and make the mistake of looking up at the sky.
My heart drops into my stomach as the endless sky stares back at me. My breaths shorten and tears slide down my face. Before I know what is happening, I am curled into a ball on the grass. My mind blanks and all I can think about is the vastness of the world. About how I shouldn’t have stepped out of the tower.
“What do we have here?”
I continue to rock and sob, unable to move.
“A snack, I believe,” answers another voice.
Fear strikes my heart even more and I peek up to see two vampires advancing on me. A part of me, a small one, coolly takes note of their appearance. Disheveled, both with brown hair. One is cut short, the other tied at his nape. They both wear red shirts, with black pants and boots. Boots covered in blood and dirt. Tears continue to stream down my face, but I cannot do more than stare.
“She’s like a scared rabbit,” says one vampire, the hunger in his eyes all-consuming.
The other frowns. “Not much fun when they give up so quick.”
I shake, wanting to move, but physically unable to do so. Both vampires advance closer. All of a sudden, the one with long hair is on me. His hands grip the crown of my head, the other my shoulder. Not even his vicious grasp jolts me into focus. Long cool teeth scrape against my neck and I cry out. The vampire hums. “This one will make us powerful. I can smell the magic.”
I let out a yelp as a sharp, stabbing pain courses through my neck. My stomach roils, threatening to empty. Weakly, I reach up, a feeble attempt to push the teeth away from me. Instead, I feel my wrist grabbed with a sickening crunch.
Suddenly, a figure flashes out of the forest. The vampires are flung off of me. One red eye, one white glance at me in concern. My attackers rush back, yelling curses. “We were here first. I claim her blood.”
Raúl growls. “Touch her and it will be the last thing you do.”
The vampires look at each other, then laugh. “Has our pretender to the throne found a toy?”
The long-haired one continues to laugh, while the other glares at Raúl. “I will never acknowledge you as king.”
