Tears filling her vision, Cinderella rushed forward, slinging her arms around Caratasa's neck, and felt such genuine warmth in the embrace, she wondered
how she could have doubted Caratasa's intentions. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling the press of Caratasa's lips against her temple, before Caratasa's
words were only a breath at her ear.
"You are not alone. You deserve all you have found. Do not let it go."
Even as she pulled away, Cinderella felt Caratasa's embrace linger, felt her gaze imprinted on her skin.
"Now go," Caratasa said firmly, and it sounded like warning.
Taking it as such, Cinderella grabbed Rapunzel's hand, and Norco and Togo flew at their sides as they hastened into the trees.
Dragging from the cover of the forest, Queen Ino was weak, failing, as if she had never fully recovered from her struggle with Snow White. Her energies,
they were tumultuous. She could not control them. Instead, they seemed to possess her, luring her on through the forest, though she had lost heart, had
lost mind.
Staggering up to the door, she glanced to the sign of hope above -
Here all dwell free
- and was shaken by uncontrollable laughter. The joke was most
funny. For there was no freedom. Everyone was slave to her own needs, desires and weaknesses.
As she raised her hand to knock, the door opened before her, and Queen Ino stared with glassy eyes at the woman who stood in the doorway.
"You are too late," she answered before Queen Ino could ask. "They are gone."
Struck by the woman's uncluttered energy, the queen would liked to have taken it from her, but she could feel the magic too, near equal to her own,
battling her will.
Trying to stand strong before the stranger with power Queen Ino discovered she was weaker than she knew. World blinking before her, she collapsed through
the doorway, expecting a painful landing on the wood floor, surprised when the woman did not let her fall.
H
eading off in the direction Caratasa had pointed them, it was not long before they entered the kingdom of Loupterre. Leaves turning brighter green, the
fields they passed looked farmed, and the footpaths well-walked, the dirt showing more red than brown where their steps marked the earth. When at last they
reached a cart path, Cinderella felt safe to loosen her grip on the map, sliding it into her pack for safekeeping.
"Look!" Togo shouted almost at once, pointing to the shrubbery that lined the path. "Do you see it there?"
Giving a small start at the unexpected cry, Cinderella followed Togo's pointing paw to the dense bushes until she saw it too, a deep streak of red amongst
the foliage.
"What is that?" Rapunzel whispered, stepping toward it, and Cinderella's shoulders set against potential surprises as they approached the out-of-place
object and carefully separated the soft needles with their hands. It was when a spray of golden hair appeared next to the red that she realized the colors
were the pieces of a young girl, not more than nine or ten years old.
"Well, this is eerily familiar," Rapunzel muttered over Cinderella's shoulder.
"Yes, too familiar," Cinderella agreed, anticipating a royal guard troop spilling from the trees to arrest her for the heinous crime of touching a bush.
Set up or not, she knew they could not simply leave the girl as they found her, and looked to Rapunzel. "Help me get her out," she requested, and Norco and
Togo pulled the branches aside as they lifted the girl from the shrubbery and set her gently on the path.
Watching the golden head roll to the side, the pink face set in peaceful repose, it occurred to Cinderella they were already doing quite a bit better than
the day before, a saddish thought, considering the first person they had come to was unconscious.
"It is such a loss," Togo said to Norco.
"She is still alive," Cinderella informed them, fingers upon the thready pulse in the girl's throat.
"Alive?" Togo asked. "Why does she not move?"
"Maybe her bodice is too tight," Cinderella muttered, searching for signs of injury on the girl, but finding none.
"Look what I found," Norco said, swooping into the brush. Grabbing hold of something caught in the branches, his wings flapped aggressively, but he failed
to lift it.
"Oh!" Togo exclaimed, grabbing hold with Norco, and, together, they pulled a woven basket from the undergrowth, setting it on the path beside the girl,
panting with the exertion of the task.
"What is in it?" Cinderella questioned, and Rapunzel pulled back the cloth that topped it.
"Bread, a cake, partially eaten, and wine."
"Let me have the wine," Cinderella said.
"This is no time to drink," Norco declared.
"I am not going to drink it." Cinderella took the bottle from Rapunzel, arm quivering with the effort of pulling the cork free, and cringed as she sniffed
the tip.
Determining that, even if the girl were dead, the wine had proof enough to rouse her from it, Cinderella doused the cork, leaving a puddle of burgundy in
the red dirt, and waved it beneath the comatose girl's nose.
Eyes flying open at once, the girl looked to the people and creatures above her and let out an earsplitting scream, upon which Togo screamed back in fright
and Norco screamed at his scream. Forehead scrunching as Rapunzel clapped her hands over her ears, Cinderella clamped her hand across the girl's mouth,
sending a firm shush to Norco and Togo.
"No more screeching," she pleaded, before removing her hand from the girl's face.
"Do not hurt me," the girl said once Cinderella took her hand away.
"We are not going to hurt you," Cinderella assured her, but the girl still pushed up with caution
"It is tomorrow," she uttered suddenly, looking to the sky.
"I think she has been rendered dumb," Norco declared.
"I have not!" the girl responded, all fright gone in an instant. "It was early afternoon when I was picking flowers off the path and now it is morning, is
it not?"
"You have been out for that long?" Rapunzel questioned.
"Oh, I never should have listened to that horrible wolf," the girl muttered, rising unsteadily to her feet.
"Wolf?" Rapunzel shakily asked, and Cinderella knew her memory returned to the cave in Aulis, in which, had the wolf been hungry enough, they could well
have met their end.
"What is a wolf?" Norco inquired.
"A wolf is a large shaggy brute," Cinderella replied in an ominous tone as she stepped over to Rapunzel, "who eats little chaps like you for breakfast and
has room for more." Arms sliding around Rapunzel's waist, she kissed her on the cheek, watching her fear lessen as she smiled at the description.
"My mother did tell me not to run off the path," the girl admitted. "But the wolf insisted the prettiest flowers were just beyond sight. And it was true.
They were the prettiest flowers. But I... I must have fallen asleep. I was supposed to be at my grandmother's house yesterday eve. Now, it is morning and I
am late, and she desperately needs the bread and wine to make her well."
"How much further down the path does your grandmother live?" Rapunzel asked, as Cinderella stuffed the cork back into the bottle and the bottle back into
the basket.
"A good quarter of a league on in the wood," the girl replied. "Her house stands under three large oak trees at path's end. I should be on my way." She
took the basket from Cinderella's hand. "Oh, I should also like to take her the flowers I gathered."
Returning to the shrub from which they had pulled the girl, Cinderella found the flowers amongst the branches.
"Well now, it is no wonder you felt so drowsy," Norco declared upon seeing the bouquet in Cinderella's hand. "For those are poison pansies."
Dropping the flowers at once, Cinderella wiped her hand upon her shirt. "How do you know that?" she asked.
"We know many things," Norco said.
"We are very helpful," Togo added.
Shaking her head at the non-answer, Cinderella turned back to the girl, eyes moving over the bright red bonnet that topped her cape. "Little girl..."
"Stace," the girl interrupted.
"Stace," Cinderella amended. "You do not happen to have an older brother back home, do you?"
"What a strange question," Stace laughed. "Do you have an older brother back home?"
"No, I have not," Cinderella replied.
"Then why should I?"
"Because some do."
"Well, I do not either," Stace responded. "I am an only child."
"How about other nice young men you may know?" Rapunzel tried. "About our age, handsome, kind-hearted, lacking typical princely characteristics, preferably
human."
"Why do you ask?" Stace eyed them with suspicion.
"No reason," Cinderella returned.
"Tell me why you ask," Stace uttered, "or I shall go to the authorities when I get back to town."
"And say what?" Cinderella returned. "We asked you a question?"
"Just tell me!" Stace demanded, and Cinderella felt the snarl on her lips. She knew such behavior well, having seen it on her stepsisters from the youngest
age. The girl they dealt with was no less than an unapologetic brat, and, suddenly, Cinderella was grateful there was no brother, for, in her experience,
brattiness ran in the blood.
"You should be on your way," Cinderella said, adding grudgingly. "Would you like an escort for your safety?"
"An escort of you?" Stace replied. "What will you do? Pretty the wolf to death?" Then, with a titter, she turned on her heel and ran.
"Watch out for that wolf," Cinderella called at her back, before her voice fell below her breath. "I hope he eats you, you little demon."
"Cinderella," Rapunzel chastised, but gave a soft giggle as she grabbed Cinderella's arm. "Do you feel better?"
"I have to admit," Cinderella uttered, "that did feel very good."
"Now, you cannot go picking fights with everyone just because you miss Esteban," Rapunzel said, and, glancing into bright blue eyes, Cinderella stole a
kiss before turning back to the path.
Not far down it, they came across a man so old, he looked on the verge of crumbling. Knelt in the grass by the path's edge, hole dug before him, he laid
one of his sheep to rest, while three more bloodied carcasses awaited burial at his side.
When Rapunzel turned her head from the gruesome sight, Cinderella fought the urge to do the same, taking a deep breath instead as she felt Norco and Togo
hover behind them.
"What happened to your flock, Good Sir?" Cinderella asked, and the old man raised tear-filled eyes to her.
"When I woke in my bed this morning," he motioned behind him, and, through the low branches of the trees flanking the path, Cinderella could see the
pasture that lay beyond and large farmhouse off in the distance. "I heard the cries of my flock. I came out to find these four dead and the wolf running
off, shucking a wool suit. He had disguised himself as a sheep to get in."
"A wolf in sheep's clothing?" Rapunzel questioned, raising her head from Cinderella's shoulder.
"That he was," the man responded, shaking his head. "Sneaky one, he is."
"I have read your story," Rapunzel said in a low whisper, and a trickle of something Cinderella did not quite recognize ran down her neck as she looked to
Rapunzel.
"Who would write a story about me?" The man gave a sad shake of his head, but, when Rapunzel's gaze met her own, Cinderella knew she did not lie.
"Can we help you?" Cinderella asked the man, for though time was precious, he was so old she worried the toil may well be his last.
"Noh," he returned, drawling the word long. "It will not take me long to lay them at rest, and the sun has not grown too hot this morning. Go on about your
journey. And beware that wolf."
"You too. Take care," Cinderella returned, pulling Rapunzel anxiously away.
Far enough down the path that she was certain the old man would not hear, Cinderella slowed her steps. "You have read his story?" she asked. "You are
sure?"
"Yes," Rapunzel said weakly, not seeming to believe herself. "The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing. I am certain of it. The story was the same. The old man, the
wolf, the costume. It was all exactly the same."
"Perhaps, it is coincidence?" Cinderella suggested.
"Perhaps," Rapunzel returned, but, even as she fell into silence, Cinderella knew it was Rapunzel's uncertainty that was untrue.
Walking a few paces more, a fork fell in the trail ahead of them. A wooden sign pointed the way to Clovetown, the village they had seen on the map, while
the other went unmarked. Choosing the path into town, they were met right away by a bit of spectacle. A great pile of straw scattered in a field, some
pieces snapped in two as if they had been trodden upon. It looked like the scene of an accident of some sort, though it was not so odd that Cinderella gave
it much thought.
Continuing past the field, they drew near a similar scene, only in place of the straw, it was nettle that was scattered over the field, the small yellow
buds that still clung to the limbs barely discernible in the mess.
Hand slipping from hers without warning, Cinderella watched Rapunzel back away, the look upon her face like a sharp stab of fear through Cinderella's gut.
"Rapunzel?" she questioned carefully. "My Darling, what is it?"
When Rapunzel's eyes swung to meet hers, darker and heavier than Cinderella had ever seen them, Cinderella felt the fear wrench inside of her.
"I know this story too," Rapunzel uttered, and Cinderella's head shook in automatic refusal.
"That cannot be."
Rapunzel, however, did not seem inclined to question her own absurd notion. Spinning in a circle, she looked to the sky and the fields and the trees, a
small smile appearing at her lips.
"We are in a story," she declared, but, head shaking more emphatically, Cinderella would not hear it.
Letting out a breath in frustration or desperation, Rapunzel clasped her arms, glancing to the path before them. "Ahead," she said, "we will come to a
house made of stone, bonded of the strongest pastes. Three pigs will answer the door."