Golden (14 page)

“Oh, dear,” I said, as I shot to my feet. “I was afraid of this.”

“Who on earth is that?” Rue asked as she, too, stood up. “And why is he calling you Parsley?”

“Because he's a wretched tinker's boy with no manners whatsoever,” I said. “His name is Harry.”
And the last time I saw him, he kissed me in my own front yard.

“I know you're in there, Parsley,” Harry's voice shouted once more. “I met the sorceress and Mr. Jones along the road. If you're not out where I can see you by the time I count to ten, I'm coming up to get you myself.”

“He can't do that,” Rue said.

“I know that and you know that,” I said. “Even Harry may know. It's not going to make a single bit of difference. Harry is the reason somebody somewhere invented the word ‘stubborn.”'

“One,” his voice floated up from the bottom of the tower.

“I'm going to have to go out there,” I said. “He'll only do something foolish and hurt himself.”

“I'm not stopping you, am I?” Rue asked.

“Two. Threefourfive,” Harry's voice said.

“Gee,” I said. “Thanks for your support. It means the world to me. All right, Harry,” I called back, lifting my voice so it would carry. “You've proven you can count. I'm coming.”

With that, I simply moved to the pane of glass that seemed closest to the sound of his voice and pushed it open. Fifteen steps took me to the edge of the balcony. They only felt like about fifty this time around. When I got to the edge, I could see him standing far below. Our horse cropped the grass at his side. I was so relieved to see that he was safe, I almost forgot to be annoyed.

“So there you are. Parsley,” he said. “It's about time.”

“That's a fine thing for you to say,” I came right back. “You're the one who's late, tinker's boy.”

“I thought you were going to stay out of trouble,” he said.

“I'm not in trouble. I'm in a tower,” I replied.

“Oh, ha-ha,” he said. “Very funny. You promised, or don't you recall?”

“Of course I do,” I said.
I remember everything about the day we said good-bye.
“I'm not in trouble, Harry. Honestly, I'm not. I'm doing something for Melisande.”

“Staying with her daughter,” he nodded. “I know. I told you. I met them on the road. That's why I was late. I had to make a detour around a band of soldiers. Some unrest is brewing in this land. I'm not so sure it's any safer than the one we left behind.”

“You'd better catch up with them, then,” I said. “It might not be safe for you to be on your own.”

Harry shook his head, and even from high above I recognized the stubborn set of his jaw.

“Not until I know that you're all right,” he said.

“Harry,” I said, doing my best to sound patient even when I didn't particularly feel that way. “I'm fine. This tower is protected by a wizard's magic. No one can get up here unless they know how to ask properly.”

“The sorceress said there was a password,” he admitted. He kicked irritably at the perfect swath of grass that surrounded the tower. “She wouldn't tell me what it was.”

“That's as it should be,” I said. “Now go away and come back with Mr. Jones and Melisande.”

“Stop doing that,” he suddenly said, and he used the foot that had been kicking grass to get in a good old-fashioned stomp. “Stop treating me as if you were all grown up and important and I'm no more than an irritating child. I haven't seen you for six days. I worried about you, dammit.”

“I worried about you, too,” I said.

“You might have waited for me, you know.”

“I'm sorry, Harry,” I said. “I didn't think I could.”

He gave the grass one last stab with his toe.

“So, what's she like?”

“Who?” I said.

“Don't be stupid, Parsley,” Harry said. “The sorceress's daughter, of course.”

“As beautiful as an angel,” I said.

“Fine. Don't tell me.”

“I'm telling you the truth,” I protested. And then a thought occurred to me. “Stay here. I'll be right back.”

“Rapunzel, wait,” Harry called. But by then, I'd already turned and marched back inside the tower. Rue was standing beside the window I'd left open, staring out as if she could see Harry far below.

“I need you to come outside,” I said.

Rue backed up a step, her eyes growing wide. “What are you talking about?” she asked, as her already pale cheeks turned the even paler color of chalk. “I can't go outside. You know that.”

“Not
outside
outside,” I said. “Just out onto the balcony. I want Harry to see you, so he knows I'm all right.”

Rue shook her head, the light dancing across her hair the same way it did upon water.

“I can't go out,” she said again.

“Can't, or won't?” I asked. I put my hands on my hips as a sudden suspicion occurred. “I'll bet you've never even tried.”

She opened her mouth, seemed to think better of whatever she'd been about to say, and closed it with a snap.

“You're right,” she admitted after a moment. “I've never even tried. There were times when I thought I wanted to. But then I thought, I feared, that if I tried and failed, it must surely break my heart.”

Because her words made perfect sense, I moved to her and put a hand on her arm. She flinched, ever so slightly, though I don't think she minded the gesture. It was that, compared with the chill of her skin, mine felt so warm. My first impression had been right, I thought. The sorceress's daughter was like a plant held in thrall by a sudden frost. I would have to find the way to thaw her out. In this moment, I thought I saw how to make at least a start.

“What if you tried and succeeded?” I asked. “What might that do to your heart?”

“I haven't the faintest idea,” she said. “But...” She took a breath and looked me straight in the eye. “If you ask me to go, I'll do my best.”

I gave a quick laugh almost before I knew what I had done.

“That does seem only fair,” I said. “Not to mention very sneaky of you. But very well: Will you please accompany me out onto the balcony, Rue?”

“Are you coming with me?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” I answered.

“In that case, I think I would like to try.”

“No changing your mind at the very last minute,” I said. “If you do, I'm just going to drag you out anyhow. By all that hair, most likely.”

“Thanks for your support. It means the world to me,” she said, parroting my own words. But I could see the fear, rising like a tide in those lovely violet eyes.

“It's just a few steps, Rue,” I said, as I linked my arm through hers. “You can do this.”

“Okay,” she said. “If you say so.”

It was all of about six steps from where we stood to the pane of glass that let out onto the balcony. I solemnly swear they were the longest steps I'd ever taken in my life. Longer even than the time it had taken me to get from the balcony to the tower. How long the distance felt to Rue, I cannot tell.

“Just one more step,” I finally said. And then, at last, we were standing outside. Rue raised a hand to shield her eyes.

“It's so bright,” she said. “Okay, I did it. I think I'd like to go back in now.”

“You have
not
done it,” I said firmly, as I kept ahold of her arm. “We have to go all the way to the railing, so Harry can see you.”

“Rapunzel,” his voice floated up at precisely that moment. “What's happening up there? What's going on?”

“Just another minute, Harry,” I called. “There's someone I'd like you to meet.” I turned back to Rue. “It's only fifteen paces more. We can even count them out, if you think that will help.”

“There's no need to treat me like a child,” Rue snapped.

“Fine,” I answered. “Then stop acting like one.”

There's a reason that daring people to accept a challenge almost always works. Put fear and pride head to head, and pride will win almost every single
time. At my words Rue lifted her chin, even as her eyes continued to squint against the outdoor sunlight, and yanked her arm from mine.

“I'm not a child,” she said. “I'm not.” Then, gathering up as much of that fat golden braid as her arms would carry, she marched the fifteen paces to the railing and looked down.

“You must be Harry,” she said. “My name is Rue, and I'm very pleased to meet you.” She let her hair drop down onto the balcony with a
thunk.

There was a pause. In it I could hear the wind moving through the trees of the forest. The water of the river moving over stones. The croak of frogs at the water's edge. Birdsong.

Then Harry said, “Thank you. That's right. Harry. Yes. Harry. Thank you very much.”

At that, I made it to the railing in record time. Fifteen paces that actually felt like less. Because, as Harry had spoken, I'd felt my heart give a sudden clutch. I gripped the railing, staring downward at him. He had lifted a hand as if he were dazzled, as if he were staring straight into the sun, when, in fact, it was behind him. Then he dropped it, and I could see the expression on his face.

Merciful heavens,
I thought.
What have I done?

It was Rue, of course. Even inside, she'd seemed to give off her own light. But in the true light of day, she was all but blinding. Her hair caught the sunlight and sent it back so that it gleamed like an enormous heap of newly minted coins. Even her dress, which I
had thought as plain and simple as my own, I suddenly discovered to be shot through with golden thread, so that it glinted with every breath she took. Her face, so fearful and uncertain just moments before, was now filled with an intrigued delight.

I could almost hear the crack of the ice that had contained her, could almost see it be swept away, even as I saw Rue herself begin to come to life.

Beautiful
, I thought, just as I had when I had seen her for the very first time. The most beautiful thing I'd seen in my entire life. And all of that beauty, all that awakening light, was streaming straight down at the young man I loved.

I turned away then and sank slowly down to the stone of the balcony, my back pressed against the railing. For I was afraid that, if I stood up straight for one moment longer, I would fall. That's what my heart was doing, a long slow tumble through space on its way to I wasn't quite sure what destination. Uncertain outcome.

When had it happened?
I wondered. When had my heart decided that what it felt for the tinker's boy was love?

Had it been the day he'd given me the kerchief? The kiss, so unexpected and so sweet, that last day in the yard? Could it even have been that very first night we'd met, when I had seen the way his fingers had reached up to gently stroke the nose of the horse he'd convinced himself he wanted to steal but knew in his own heart of hearts that he would not?

Or maybe, I thought, as my heart finally caught up with my body and seemed to come to rest, though not particularly comfortably, it was only now. Now, when I realized that it all might be for nothing. The moment I saw what it would mean if he didn't love me back, when I had seen him blinded by Rue's shining, golden light. This was the moment I knew that what I felt for the tinker's boy was love.

“Heavens, Rapunzel,” her voice suddenly said, from what sounded like a very long way above my head. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” I said. “I just got a little dizzy, that's all. It's a long way down.”
A long way to fall.

“But it's so beautiful out here,” she said. “You were right, to urge me to come.”

“I'm glad, Rue,” I said. “Honestly, I am.”

She bent over me then, a frown snaking down between her eyebrows. I bit down on my tongue to hold back the bubble of hysterical laughter that threatened to explode right out of my chest.
Even her eyebrows are golden,
I thought.

“You're sure you're all right?” she said once more.

“No. Yes. Of course I am,” I said.

“What is it?” I heard Harry's voice call. “What's going on?”

“Something seems to be the matter with Rapunzel,” Rue called back.

“Rapunzel?” Harry echoed. And at that, so great a dizziness swept over me that I actually put my head
down between my knees. He sounded as if he didn't even know who I was.

“Yes, Rapunzel,” I said, as I forced myself to my feet. The world seemed to sway as I looked down. “You remember me, don't you?”

“What are you talking about? Of course I remember you,” Harry said. He put his hands on his hips. “I'm not so sure I think you should stay up there. I think that tower may be affecting your mind.”

Not my mind,
I thought.
It's not my mind at all

“She does act strangely sometimes, doesn't she?” Rue suddenly asked, her voice as delighted as I'd ever heard it.

“You have no idea,” Harry replied.

“Okay, that's it,” I said. “Rue, I think it's time to go back in now.”

“But I just came out,” she protested. “I like it out here. You were right.”

“You could get a sunburn,” I said. “It hurts a lot. I should know. I really think you should come back in right this minute.” I took her by the arm and began to tug her away from the railing, back toward the tower's inside.

“Stop it!” she snapped. “You're hurting my arm.” She tugged against my grip. “Good-bye, Harry,” she called. “I hope you'll come back and visit us tomorrow. Maybe Rapunzel”—she gave her arm a hard enough jerk to free it—”will have recovered her senses by then. Though personally,” she whispered for my ears alone, “I doubt it.”

“Of course I'll come back” Harry said. “In fact, I'm thinking it might be a good idea if I stuck around. There are still those armed men to consider.”