It was a needle.In a haystack.In a prison tower.“I’m no lady.Just a prisoner, like you.”Except...a needle might be just the godsend she needed to tumble the lock open.
“Oh, I’m no prisoner.A magpie found me a moment ago and dropped me into that window when I yelled.Scared the feathers straight off it, I did.”
A reluctant smile broke upon Bella’s lips.“I’ve no doubt.”She adjusted her skirts and leaned toward the tiny shard, shocked at how easily she’d adjusted to speaking with enchanted items today.If one were to bend a magical item, would it still hold its enchantment?Or would fashioning Mrs.Loomis into a lockpick be the end of her?Best to err on the side of mortal caution.“Small as you are, think you could wiggle into the keyhole and unlock my door?Or hasten down the stairs to see about setting me free?”
“Oh, no, my lady.The master would have my head.”
“Master?You mean, that beast is your master?Was he once human?”He wore pants with a slit to accommodate his plush tail, and something golden like a pendant had glistened in the tawny fur covering his chest, so in this cursed castle, it made sense.But why keep her prisoner?And why had all three enchanted items insisted on calling her “my lady,” despite her numerous corrections to the contrary?
If a pin could flush white with fear, this one did.“I...must go.Good day, my lady.”And before Bella could snatch her into her grip, the needle dove under the crack in the door and disappeared.
“No, please!”She listened for any reply, but the needle made hardly any noise as it flung itself down the dark, curving stairs.
Alone.Bella removed her arms from her coat sleeves, drew her knees to her chest, and spread her opened coat over herself for warmth, tucking it right up to her ears.She then rested her chin on her knees and hugged herself tight.She was hungry, tired, uncomfortable, and sickened over her unfair imprisonment.Hersandher father’s.What had Papa done more than seek shelter when their horse got attacked?Bella saw the wolf tracks in the frost and knew why Papa had come here; she just didn’t understand that beast’s utter refusal to treat her and Papa as guests.
Bella needed something she could use to break free.The chair would not work.Ditto for the straw.She had nothing to work with in this chamber, though daylight might bring fresh hope.Maybe with a sharp stone she could carve a key from a slat in her chair?She had just closed her eyes to envision her escape when the tower began to shake violently.The rickety chair dumped her to the floor, and Bella flung out her hands to break her fall.
But she kept falling.
And falling.She screamed, and when that scream ended, she took another breath, ready to scream again.Shouldshe scream again?Where was she?Would this fall ever end?
The breath raced from her lungs as she squeezed through colorful clouds and never-ending rainbows.Stars, moons, oceans, trees...all a blur.She forced air into her lungs and logic into her brain.No fall lasted forever.
This one, however, came quite close.
After long minutes of tumbling, Bella landed softly but awkwardly on her hands and knees in the middle of someone’s home.Bright morning light spilled in from the high windows, and the smell of spring flowers filled the air, as well as cheerful birdsong she did not recognize.She stood and looked around, enjoying the warmth that she rubbed into her chilled skin.
Where was she?This was not her country; her village currently prepped for the upcoming winter.Another bird made a call that was alien to her.No, not just the bird.This entire place was alien to her.
“Exactly how far did I fall?”she breathed.Or was this a dream?Or magic?Or had that beast returned and banged in her skull, and this was what the afterlife looked like?She pinched her arm; it hurt, so she was not dreaming.Or dead.
At least the landing felt like a matter of inches and not leagues.She stood and shook out her skirts, her nose catching the scent of baked items burning.
“Hello?Papa?”she called.“Is anyone here?”
Nothing.
Bella headed toward the oven and grabbed a mitt to remove the pastries that had just overshot their cooking time.She set them on the stove top and saw a kettle also on the flame.She moved that to a cool burner when she noticed the steam piping from the top.
“Is anyone home?Your food was burning.”
She removed the mitt, concerned that some ill tidings had befallen the home’s occupant and worrying over what may have happened to her father.This home was spacious, round, well-appointed with items that indicated opulence without excessive access to wealth.She peeked for anyone hiding behind the settee and chair, then saw a wide staircase that followed the curve of the room.She called out again and headed upstairs.
The first bedroom at the top was filled with mirrors.Cheval, wall, and handheld versions were everywhere.
“Odd,” she whispered into the vacant space, then moved to the second one.
This one was clearly from a youth, as the walls were painted, the occupant’s age showing by the complexity of the artwork the higher up the walls one looked.Three pillows with giant felt letters lined the bed.Bella frowned, pushed them together, and read the syllables.
“Ra-pun-zel?What does that mean?”She studied the painted walls, marveling that every square inch was filled with creativity.“This whole situation is strange.”She headed back downstairs and thought to check outside, as maybe the homeowner was working in the barn, or wandering afield, but she could find no doorway out of this place.
“What manner of nonsense is this?”She chose a point at the bottom of the stairs and pressed on the wall around the room’s entire circumference before realization set in.
She flung open the lowest window shutters and confirmed her suspicions.“I’m trapped in another tower.”
The ground was thirty, forty feet below.
If adventure was what Bella wanted, then adventure was what she would have.
