breaths grew fast and deep. Less than twenty steps led directly upward to the arched door of the tower. I kept my grip on the blade as I slowly walked each step. As I stood on the top stair, I gazed back at the storming night. Once I entered the tower, there was no going back.
Dirt fell away from the edges of the door as I opened it. The thick wood pushed inwards. There was little in the room except for a rotting wooden stairway that spiraled upward. I gathered myself as I stepped inside and stood on the cool stonework. The space was deathly quiet, as though no one had been here for centuries.
My breaths quickened again as I took the stairs. I was about to come face to face with the dark figure in the tower, the one who had silently kept watch. I could sense this being in a way that was almost palpable—it was something that wrenched and twisted at my very core.
The stairs wound upwards—eternally upwards. There were no windows and little light. My feet slipped on the uneven, rotting boards. I passed no floors between the bottom floor and the very top. I clutched the railing as I reached the top stair. A large dark space lay before me. Moonlight streaked silver across the stone floor from a single narrow window.
The window . The window from which I’d been observed through every terror-filled day since I had been here.
My eyes adjusted to the sharply-contrasting light. Ice froze along my spine. Something slowly spun in a high space in the center of the room—a figure suspended in the air.
The inhabitant of the tower.
I edged closer.
In a long cape, the figure slowly spun—a girl—her arms hanging limply, her face turned upwards. Above her, an eye-shaped crystal hung weightless in the air. The girl’s eyes were open but dull and unseeing, her face partly obscured by the cape.
I gazed at her, frozen, taking in everything—the long dark hair, the dress with the dark stain on the bodice, the wrists with the cut marks on them....
Shock roared through me like a freight train.
Of all the universes of things, of people, of beings... I would never have expected to see what was before me now. Why had I been so afraid? Yet there was something—something about her—that chilled me to the bone.
“Prudence...” I whispered.
She seemed to shock out of her trance-like state. With a cry she fell to the floor.
The axe blade dropped from my hands.
I ran to her, kneeling beside her frail body.
Gasping, I realized she was solid, real. Not a ghost.
She struggled to sit, her eyes losing their glaze. She gripped my arms. “Cassandra....”
“My God, what have they done to you?”
Her eyes regarded me with horror. “I watched... in the chapel... as they made you his bride. I wanted to protect you, but I couldn’t. How... how did you make your way to the tower?”
“I found the secret passage. I had to know who it was that watched me from the window all those times. But I never guessed....” I inhaled deeply. “Prudence, I don’t understand. Why are you here? And you’re not a....”
“Not a ghost?” She bent her head, shaking it softly. “No. I’m in between. Neither dead nor alive. That is the fate of someone who submits to the serpent.”
Pain entered her eyes. Trembling, I hugged her, holding her tightly. She collapsed into me, shivering.
“Why,” I cried, “why are you here?”
Rising from the floor, she stepped over to the window. Moonlight lit the angles of her face.
I walked to her, and gazed from the same window.
A tear was silver on her cheek as she turned to me. “Do you see me?”
“Of course. Of course I see you.” The words rushed from me.
She drew her hood back. “Do you really see me? Can’t you see who I am?” Her tone was anguished.
I searched her face, not understanding.
“I thought,” she said softly, “that if you ever saw me—the real me—you’d know me.”
I tried to answer her, but I had no words. I couldn’t begin to guess what she expected me to know. All
Dirt fell away from the edges of the door as I opened it. The thick wood pushed inwards. There was little in the room except for a rotting wooden stairway that spiraled upward. I gathered myself as I stepped inside and stood on the cool stonework. The space was deathly quiet, as though no one had been here for centuries.
My breaths quickened again as I took the stairs. I was about to come face to face with the dark figure in the tower, the one who had silently kept watch. I could sense this being in a way that was almost palpable—it was something that wrenched and twisted at my very core.
The stairs wound upwards—eternally upwards. There were no windows and little light. My feet slipped on the uneven, rotting boards. I passed no floors between the bottom floor and the very top. I clutched the railing as I reached the top stair. A large dark space lay before me. Moonlight streaked silver across the stone floor from a single narrow window.
The window . The window from which I’d been observed through every terror-filled day since I had been here.
My eyes adjusted to the sharply-contrasting light. Ice froze along my spine. Something slowly spun in a high space in the center of the room—a figure suspended in the air.
The inhabitant of the tower.
I edged closer.
In a long cape, the figure slowly spun—a girl—her arms hanging limply, her face turned upwards. Above her, an eye-shaped crystal hung weightless in the air. The girl’s eyes were open but dull and unseeing, her face partly obscured by the cape.
I gazed at her, frozen, taking in everything—the long dark hair, the dress with the dark stain on the bodice, the wrists with the cut marks on them....
Shock roared through me like a freight train.
Of all the universes of things, of people, of beings... I would never have expected to see what was before me now. Why had I been so afraid? Yet there was something—something about her—that chilled me to the bone.
“Prudence...” I whispered.
She seemed to shock out of her trance-like state. With a cry she fell to the floor.
The axe blade dropped from my hands.
I ran to her, kneeling beside her frail body.
Gasping, I realized she was solid, real. Not a ghost.
She struggled to sit, her eyes losing their glaze. She gripped my arms. “Cassandra....”
“My God, what have they done to you?”
Her eyes regarded me with horror. “I watched... in the chapel... as they made you his bride. I wanted to protect you, but I couldn’t. How... how did you make your way to the tower?”
“I found the secret passage. I had to know who it was that watched me from the window all those times. But I never guessed....” I inhaled deeply. “Prudence, I don’t understand. Why are you here? And you’re not a....”
“Not a ghost?” She bent her head, shaking it softly. “No. I’m in between. Neither dead nor alive. That is the fate of someone who submits to the serpent.”
Pain entered her eyes. Trembling, I hugged her, holding her tightly. She collapsed into me, shivering.
“Why,” I cried, “why are you here?”
Rising from the floor, she stepped over to the window. Moonlight lit the angles of her face.
I walked to her, and gazed from the same window.
A tear was silver on her cheek as she turned to me. “Do you see me?”
“Of course. Of course I see you.” The words rushed from me.
She drew her hood back. “Do you really see me? Can’t you see who I am?” Her tone was anguished.
I searched her face, not understanding.
“I thought,” she said softly, “that if you ever saw me—the real me—you’d know me.”
I tried to answer her, but I had no words. I couldn’t begin to guess what she expected me to know. All
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