Sunlight

Sunlight

By Jill Myles

Hope’s been given a new lease on life – if she can figure out the curse on the maiden Rapunzel, she’s free to live out the rest of her days in Scotland in her new body. But her handsome prince?

Not so handsome. His fierce Scottish bodyguard? Now that’s another matter entirely…

Copyright © 2012 by Jill Myles

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

When Hope awakened, she gazed up at the vaulted stone ceiling for a long moment before realizing that this was not the hospital.

She sat upright, wincing. Why was she on the floor? A wooden floor?

She scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve, and stared hard at her surroundings. Okay, maybe the morphine was affecting her mind, because this? This was…weird.

A small room spread out before her, the walls perfectly circular and composed entirely of thick blocks of stone. There was a tiny table with a wooden bowl atop it, and she could see bread and fruit sticking over the lip of the bowl. A fireplace was tucked away in the corner of the room. Hanging atop the mantel was the largest pair of scissors she’d ever seen. A brightly woven rug covered the wooden floor, and on the far side of the room, a lumpy wooden bed was propped against the wall, the bed covers trailing onto the floor as if their occupant had just gotten up. Hope turned her head, looking for the occupant of this room, but she was alone.

The room was completely dark except for one sputtering candle near the bed. It had been lit for some time – wax dripped down the side of the table and onto the stone floor.

Hope sat up, confused at her surroundings. What was going on? Her head ached, and she instinctively rubbed her chest. Then her eyes widened and she rubbed a little harder. She sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled in surprise.

It didn’t hurt to breathe.

The tightness that lived in her chest was gone. If she pressed her hand over her breastbone, she could feel the steady, strong beat of her heart. This…this wasn’t her heart. Hers was failing, the thump of it erratic and lifeless. She’d been dying, wasting away in a hospital bed hoping for a transplant that never came.

And now she was here.

“What the heck is going on?”

At the sound of her voice, a woman poofed into view in a spray of glitter and baby powder. The woman shook her head, white sausage curls bouncing, and sneezed. The glittery antennae on her head bobbed, and the old woman adjusted the wing straps on her shoulders. She frowned, then picked a wedgie out of the back of her bee costume.

Hope’s jaw dropped slightly at the sight. The little woman looked to be eighty if she was a day, short, stout, and adorable. Hope blinked her eyes again, not entirely believing what she was seeing.

“What’s going on? Is this the morphine?”

The woman in the bee costume giggled and waved her wand in the air, trying to shoo away the cloud of glitter. “You must have hit your head on that chamberpot harder than I thought.” Hope touched the back of her head. “Chamberpot?”

The old woman wiggled her wand and a sitting stool appeared. She sat down on it with a puff of glitter.

“Well, not you, my dear. The other you.”

“Um…I don’t understand.”

“No, I suppose you do not. My name is Muffin, and I’m your fairy godmother.” Hope scratched at the itchy lace nightdress she was wearing and crossed her legs, leaning forward. “I’m not sure I heard you correctly. I think you said you were my grandmother? And you’re dressed as a bee, not a fairy.”

This time, she got a rap on the head from the wand.

“Ow!” She put a hand to her forehead and stared at Muffin in surprise.

The so-called fairy godmother gave Hope a shrewd look. “I did not misspeak, young lady. I am your fairy godmother. How is your heart?”

Hope began to feel a little excitement. This was either the best morphine dream in the world – and if it was, she didn’t want to wake up – or this was really happening. “My chest doesn’t hurt anymore.

My heart is strong. No skipped beats. No weakness. What did you do?” Muffin beamed. “I switched your body.”

Hope gaped, aghast. “You…what?”

“Switched your body,” Muffin repeated. “I’m terribly sorry to say you died in your sleep just this evening. Meanwhile, another one of my charges slipped on the floor and hit her head while heading for the chamberpot. She died, too. So I took you both and switched you. The new you got a new head, and the old her…no, wait, that’s not right.” She frowned, thinking hard. “I guess she’s new too. At any rate, she got a new heart.”

It sounded too ridiculous to believe, but Hope pressed a hand to her chest again. Her heart beat so strong and even that she surely had to believe it. “Am I dreaming?”

“Not at all,” Muffin said. “Go on and look in the mirror. You’ll see what I mean.” Hope stood, scratching at the thick lace that cascaded from the long sleeping gown.

No wonder the other girl had tripped – this thing had a ridiculous amount of fabric. She stood and moved to the bookshelf, then the tiny table.

“Your mirror is by the scissors, my dear.”

Oh. Okay. Hope moved to the gigantic scissors and found the small hand mirror on the mantle. She picked it up and moved to the dim light of the candle to get a better look.

The face that looked back at her was familiar, with subtle changes. For one, her cheeks were round and full with health. Her eyebrows were straight and even and had obviously never been plucked.

Her hair, while still a dark, rich brown, was long and lustrous and hung past her shoulders. Her skin was flawless, but missing the dainty mole her old body had on the left temple. Hope tugged the neckline of the nightgown down and checked. Sure enough, the surgery scars right over her breastbone had vanished.

“I don’t understand,” she said again.

“Look, it’s very simple,” Muffin said. “I’m your fairy godmother. When I think you’ve been cheated of something, I step in and try to fix it, provided you can pass my challenge. And you died tonight, so I’m doing my best to fix it for you.”

Hope rubbed her breastbone again, and put the mirror down. “Challenge?”

“Well, of course. You didn’t think this would be easy, did you?” If it was a second chance at life, she supposed not. “What do I have to do?” The fairy godmother tilted her head. “What did you say your name was again?”

“I’m Hope.” How was this woman her fairy godmother if she didn’t know her name?

Muffin tittered. “Oh, my goodness. That is adorable and so meaningful, isn’t it?”

“I…guess?” Hope said, thoroughly bewildered at this point.

“Well, this should make it obvious to you, then. The girl you are replacing? Her name is Rapunzel.”

“Rapunzel,” Hope repeated. “Like, from the fairy tale?”

“Precisely like that.” Muffin gave a sage nod.

Hope stood up and stared at the circular room. “Then this…this is a tower?” She began to walk toward the window, now curious. “How high up are we?”

“Actually, my dear, I really should warn you–” Muffin began.

Hope threw open the casement shutters and stared out. The world spread wide below them, a vast expanse of forest. It was gorgeous and green. Excitement made her pulse flutter. She’d spent the last ten years bed-ridden or in hospital rooms. And now she was out in the wild? In a forest? How amazing.

She wanted to be outside, enjoying the air. She leaned over, out into the sunlight, peering at how far up they were from the ground.

“That’s not such a good idea,” Muffin said, just as Hope’s scalp began to prickle.

In the next moment, hair cascaded over her face, tumbling down past her shoulders and sliding in a wealth of silky locks down over the window. Her hair. Huh. She hadn’t realized it was that long…

It was growing.

As Hope stared, her hands braced on the windowsill, the hair continued to grow and tumble forth, a gleaming brown mass of waves rushing toward the ground. Her head was getting heavy from the weight of it, and she grasped a handful of it, pulling up the end, only to watch it wiggle and slide down, the lock growing even as she watched.

“How…?”

It was like her hair was a waterfall, gleaming in the sunlight.

And if she wasn’t careful, the weight of it was going to drag her right out the window. Hope took a step back, but still the hair grew. Her scalp tingled, and she gave the hair an anxious tug.

“Pull it up,” Muffin barked at her side, yanking at a rope of Hope’s incredibly long hair. “Pull it all up out of the sunlight!”

Hope grabbed handfuls and tugged rapidly, starting to grow alarmed. She could still feel it growing and sliding downward. The roots of her hair were starting to smart with the tension and her entire head felt as if it was being pulled. She grabbed fistfuls of the thick, ridiculous hair as quickly as she could, determined to outrace the growing. After endless rounds of tugging, she saw the tip of her hair sweep into the tower.

“Shut the window,” Muffin gasped under an enormous pile of Hope’s hair. “Quick!” Hope rushed forward and slammed the shutters closed, breathing hard. She turned to look at the fairy godmother, but the woman was gone…no, wait, there she was. Under a sea of Hope’s hair.

Chagrined, Hope reached for the flailing hand that stuck out of her tresses and tugged her forward.

Muffin gasped as if she’d just been freed from being smothered. “Oh, thank goodness. Death by hair was not on my list of things to do today.”

“I’m sorry,” Hope said. She pressed a hand to her heart, out of habit, but it beat steady and strong.

“I–I had no idea.”

“Now you know,” Muffin said peevishly, brushing off her sleeves. “Rapunzel is cursed. And since you are now Rapunzel, you are cursed. You can’t go into sunlight.”

“I can’t?”

Muffin wiggled her fingers. “If you do, that happens.”

“But…but…” Hope pushed at the hair, trying to shove it out of her face. It was everywhere. “What do I do? I can’t stay here in this tower.”

“You don’t have a choice. You have to find a way to break the enchantment.” Break the enchantment? She stared at the hair swamping the tower, all of it coming from her head.

“How do I get rid of all of this?”

“If you cut it, it’ll go away, I’m sure.” Muffin scratched her head, thinking. “Well, maybe.” Some help the fairy godmother was. Hope pushed through the sea of hair and grasped the massive scissors next to the mirror. And here she’d been wondering what they were for. She hacked at her hair.

When the last strand was cut free, the entire mess vanished into thin air, leaving Hope with curls that bounced to mid-back.

How odd. Clearly this wasn’t sustainable. “I…guess I see why Rapunzel is stuck in the tower.”

“Indeed,” said Muffin, fixing her glittery antennae. “I’m sure you can leave if you figure out how. But that is the trick, is it not?”

Yes, Hope supposed it was. “And if I figure it out, I win a life? With this heart? This body? Free to do whatever I like?”

“Winner winner, chicken dinner.”

Strange woman. “Okay then,” she said, pressing a hand over the heart that beat so strong and steady.

She was practically giddy with excitement. “You have yourself a deal.”

***

Problem–she couldn’t leave this tower.

Solution–she’d simply have to go by moonlight, and be someplace safe by daylight.

And then do what? She couldn’t avoid sunlight every moment for the rest of her life, however short or long it might be. She had a month to figure this thing out, and if she succeeded…she was free.

Free from worrying if the next breath would be her last. Free from being winded as she crossed a room, free of hearing her heart pulse heavily every time she did the slightest amount of exercise, free of the pain in her chest.

She’d have the chance to have a happy, healthy, normal life.

She’d be free.

Hope stood up and did a cartwheel, then danced around the room, laughing with happiness. She was healthy! This whole Rapunzel thing?

That was just details, baby.

Happy with her new scenario, she spent the day going through the old Rapunzel’s things. The tower was full of interesting clutter, but it wasn’t a very large room. She could cross it from one wall to the other in twenty paces. Beautiful woven tapestries lined the stone walls, and she spent time examining them.

They seemed to be stories–tales of knights and unicorns and maidens. Interesting.

As Muffin had mentioned before, she only had a chamber pot with which to relieve herself, and no bath or shower. That was concerning.

Exactly how did Rapunzel cleanse herself? She searched high and low for a faucet of some kind and found none. After figuring that out, she was very judicious with the pitcher of water she had for drinking.