- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - }}ï{{ - - - - - - - - - - - -
The Hidden Tower
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Thanks very much to OverlyDramatic for being kind enough to beta this for me, way back when. I appreciate it.

"The way to read a fairy tale is to throw yourself in"
-- W. H. Auden, poet.

Derek squinted his eyes.

The tower stretched high into the heavens, clouds forming a backdrop for its crooked silhouette.

"You're saying a girl is being kept up there?"

The old man looked at him, visibly confused. "Of course that's where she is. You must come from very far away if you've never heard the story of the princess held captive in the tower."

Derek smiled weakly, shifting his eyes. "Yeah. Something like that."

The old man shrugged, resigned to repeat what to most was common knowledge. "Well, the story itself is ancient. That tower is all that can be seen of a castle hidden underneath a forest of overgrowth. It was once the heart of a thriving kingdom. Not any more. It started because the king and queen tried for children, to no avail. Until one day, when a young girl fell from the heavens."

Derek's eyes widened. "She just appeared out of nowhere?"

The man sighed, his hands fumbling with a spinning wheel. "A strange way to phrase it, but yes. The king and queen took the girl's arrival as a gift from above and claimed her as their heir. They held an enormous festival celebrating the new princess. Unfortunately, not everyone rejoices at the happy news of others. The queen's resentful older sister had planned to make use of the queen's barrenness and place her own daughter on the throne. She was not pleased when her plans were foiled."

Derek knew where this was going. He swallowed. "What did she do?"

The old man continued, lifting spools of wool from his machine. "After everyone else had bestowed their gifts, she made a toast, offering the princess a poisoned glass of wine. The queen was wary and wouldn't let the princess drink it. In a wave of anger the queen's sister attacked the princess – but the palace guards were quick to stop her before she could do any harm."

"Well, that's good news."

"It was, at the time. But three days later the princess went missing and a sleeping sickness spread to everyone within meters of the palace walls. News spread that the princess was trapped inside a tower, and waking her was the key to saving the entire kingdom. But a forest grew untamed around the city, stopping all traffic in and out."

"Why hasn't anyone tried to save them?

The old man looked down. "Oh, many tried. Rumors of the monster who guards the tower served only to entice foolhardy heroes. Many a young lad ventured in, eyes set on the glory of saving a princess and gaining a throne. Little did they know the match they'd meet."

Derek's brow furrowed. "What happened to them exactly?"

The man paused, a somber expression forming on his face. "They faced an enemy no man can escape. You see, time passes differently in that sphere. More quickly, yet more slowly."

"What do you mean?"

"Outside the lair of the castle, time is as we all know it. But once within meters of the black forest, time seems to quicken and disappear. Prince or pauper who ventures in must be prepared to come back to a different world. If he fails, like all the rest, he comes back without a princess, without a crown, and having lost everyone and everything he had before. His family, his friends, his country are long dead." The man's last words came out as a whisper, but as he finished his head rose, seeming to come out of a momentary dream.

Derek narrowed his eyes, reassessing the man. "You seem to know a lot about it."

"More than most, I suppose. Take it from one who knows, boy, Leave that legend alone. Find a trade, live a happy life and leave untouchable princesses to dreams."

Derek scoffed under his breath. It wasn't that easy for him. "Just one more thing."

The man paused, turning around to face him again.

"This princess – did she have a name?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Cassandra," the queen said, one hand holding the half-finished embroidery of a violet she'd been working on. "Please be careful, it's getting late and the guards have yet to arrive."

Casey turned to look at the woman. Her ginger-blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in perfect ripples and she sat demurely on a thick blanket, protecting her dress from the dewy grass. "Yes, you're majesty," was all Casey said.

The queen frowned, her eyes sad. "You can call me mother now, Cassandra."

Casey smiled, a half-smile, but turned away, heading in the direction of the palace courtyard. To describe the last few weeks as a dream-nightmare, would be a total understatement. It felt like Disney gone bad – no one listened to her, there was no convincing anyone that she wasn't a fairy princess destined to take the throne and save the little kingdom from some unspoken foe.

Once Casey resigned herself to the fact that she'd simply gone insane, she decided she might as well play along. If only because it took too much effort to fight it. Her imagination was more powerful than she ever gave herself credit for. But if she every made it out of this loopy fairy tale world, her first stop would be to demand Paul prescribe sort of anti-hallucinatory drugs. And some Prozac while he was as it. She wasn't normally a pill pusher but if believing you were trapped in a fairy tale didn't constitute special circumstances she didn't know what would.

Casey's only refuge was the rare alone time she was afforded in the evening. She spent it walking outside the confining walls of the castle, a semblance of routine in an otherwise unfamiliar life. She turned a corner, planning to venture along the perimeter of the lake when she stopped suddenly.

An unfamiliar sound – faint drumming. Harp chords? She closed her eyes, trying to isolate the melody. She couldn't place it, but it was beautiful.

Her eyes darted heavenward. A tower she'd never noticed before loomed overhead, its slight slant misplaced against the perfect angles of the rest of the castle. The music grew louder as she approached it.

Now normally anyone who's familiar with fairy tales knows that mysterious towers pose serious danger. Casey knew this, and not just subconsciously. But while the music was mesmerizing, it wasn't the only thing that drew her towards the tower. While Casey didn't understand how she'd managed to get where she was, she knew she wasn't going to leave it by standing around. If finding a way home meant exploring a dark and creepy tower – that's what she'd do.

At the base of the tower was a door. Its handle was old and rusted and it took a surge of strength for Casey to pry it open.

The music was loud now, the harp chords echoing inside the tower. Steps lead upward in a twisting, spiral shape. Casey could make out a golden halo of light coming from a few floors above. She followed the light up the corridor, walls of gray encircling her. She steadied herself, placing one hand against the wall, cold stone against palm. A breeze swept through the tower, she wasn't sure from where, but it made chills run up her spine.

Casey stopped when she reached the top of the tower, where streams of light spilled from behind yet another door. She pushed it open.

The music stopped.

A girl with long blonde hair stood from behind a tall harp, her eyes narrowed. "Hello cousin."

Casey blinked. She'd heard the queen talk about her niece, in not so pleasant terms, but she'd never seen her until now. She couldn't get over the uncanny resemblance she had to someone in her former life. Her real life, she corrected. Memories had started to fade lately. Things she'd understood as absolute truths – faces, people – were reduced to jumbled flashes of recollection. Few people were still firmly fixed in her mind. Still, she recognized this girl. A schoolmate maybe? A friend of --

The girl stepped closer, her lips curling into a smile that made Casey uncomfortable. "Won't you sit down, Casey?"

Casey was surprised. Maybe she shouldn't have been, but for all the time she'd been here she couldn't convince one person to call her Casey. Not one. It was always Cassandra, Princess Cassandra, or, to her great chagrin, Her Royal Highness the Effervescent Princess Cassandra. But here was this strangely familiar girl who said her name slowly and deliberately, as though she knew something everyone else didn't.

Casey sat down on a small divan, coughing slightly at a wave of smoke coming from an incense-burning candle on the table.

The girl brought a tray of food and set it on the little table. "Help yourself, cousin."

Casey gasped. Were those fries? And ketchup?! Her mouth watered. She hadn't eaten anything palatable in weeks. Still, after what happened with this girl's mother, Casey wasn't about to eat or drink anything she offered her. It was a shame though. "Thanks," Casey said. "But I've already eaten."

The girl sat down across from Casey, her hands folded in her lap.

The smoke from the little candle seemed to be spreading a thin fog around the room. Casey's eyes started to water.

The girl noticed and smiled. "You have been surprisingly hard to get rid of. Do you know that?"

Casey sat up, narrowing her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

The girls stood, facing each other, the small table serving as the only barrier between them.

"But it's over now, Casey. No one will find you in here."

Casey crossed her arms. "What makes you think I can't take care of myself?"

The girl smiled again, pulling a chord near the wall. With her tug, it drew back a velvet curtain that had blocked off the rear side of the room, revealing an extravagantly canopied bed and a massive standing mirror. "Look at yourself, princess." She said the word as though tasting her own disdain. "I don't think you're in a state to be of much help to anyone."

Casey approached the mirror. Her face was sullen, but her gaze zeroed in on her eyes – red and swollen. It stung just to look at them. "What's happening to me?"

Through the mirror's reflection Casey could see the girl moving towards the door, candle in one hand, key in the other. Just great.

Realization came to her. The incense – it must be laced with something. She tried to leap after her betrayer but she didn't have the strength, her body suddenly weak. She tripped, taking the large mirror with her, shards of glass exploding from the frame.

She stumbled towards the bed. Everything was spinning. She tried to concentrate. She had to leave, find some exist out of the tower. But she'd be better off waiting until the room stopped hoola-hooping around her. And that sound of shattering glass – why wouldn't stop?!

She couldn't stand it.

With one last intake of breath, she fell backwards onto the bed of pillows. Her left hand, wounded from the glass, lay on the shimmering blanket – the dark cherry blood a stark contrast against the white silk.

To Be Continued…

(if there's interest)