Stone Prison (Twisted Tales #1)

Stone Prison (Twisted Tales #1) Page 2

Blood is power, the old woman said. Her golden hair had faded long ago. The sun had been unkind, weathering her skin like an old hide. She had trudged up the long staircase to my room at the top of the stone tower. Fifteen years passed since the night her horrific shadow first crossed my path. The old woman's hunched form gasped for air, and she lowered herself into a chair.

The hag's ancient gray eyes were listless. She sat across from me like we were old friends, though we were not. Staring at her gnarled hands, I remembered seeing them smooth and covered in blood. It was impossible to forget. That moment was etched into my mind, like acid burning away metal, for eternity.

That dark memory crushed all happy ones. I couldn't remember Father's laughter or the sparkle of his eyes when he spoke. I couldn't remember his warm voice and strong touch. All of that was gone, stolen by the woman who sat across from me.

The witch.

The old sorceress wrung her hands, and took a deep breath.

This was the only night of the year that I was allowed a small amount of freedom. It was my birthday, but that wasn't the reason I was allowed to venture from her side. The reason I was permitted to leave my stone prison was due to someone else's birth the Crown Prince. Each year, the royal family held a ball to celebrate his birth. And every year the witch forced me to attend.

However, that tiny bit of freedom came at a price. I was forced to steal, taking things that were not mine. The penalty for theft was severe in this kingdom. The guard who caught me had the right to sever my hand at the wrist. If I was caught a second time, my head would be severed at the neck. Theft from the palace was a higher risk. There were more guards to see me steal. I risked much in doing this, but it was worth the risk.

The witch taught me how to take things and evade the guard's detection. I became more than adept as I grew. No one suspected me. A governess concocted of dark magic trailed behind me, until I found what I needed. And the witch usually asked for things that wouldn't be missed like a lock of hair, a piece of cloth, or some other discarded, worthless, item. She collected these things and stored them under lock and key in the wooden cabinet. I expected that this year would not be different.

She would require me to take something that wouldn't be missed, and send a governess to trail along behind me.

But my assumption was wrong.

The witch licked her withered lips. They were so chapped that they bled in the corners, making it appear as if she had sores on her mouth. This night is more important than the previous balls. This night you will steal the object I seek, the item that will secure your future and mine. The item I require will bring us much. You will take it for me and return home before midnight. She paused, looking at me with her withered lips pulled into a tight smile. If you do as I say, there will be enough endless beauty, unsurpassed riches, and power to last a lifetime.

Those things were foreign to me, though I knew she craved them. I'd been locked in a tower, shunned for a lifetime. On the nights I was allowed out, I had to return before midnight. The witch made certain that I was always locked in the tower by the twelfth toll of the night bells. To most people, midnight marks a new day, bringing new hope. But not me. I was always acutely aware of the twelfth chime. There was a stirring within me that seemed to long for something, but I didn't know what. It only appeared at that hour and vanished instantly as I sat alone, staring at stone walls from my pillow.

Then the morning would come, and rays of sunlight would spill across the cold floor. Most days I stared out a window that was too small to throw myself through. I know because I tried. It would have been more bearable to plummet from the tower than to endure another day of confinement. I dreamed of walking among people again, and staying with them past the eleventh hour. I dreamt of a normal life, just another content peasant in a vast kingdom.

But the witch had other plans.

I glared at her. So many thoughts rushed through my mind.

If I could only be free from her. I'd tried to run away several times, each time ending the same hard-learned lesson no one can escape from the witch.

Ever.

I could tell from her posture, from the wringing of her hands that this night mattered more to her than the others. This night was unlike the others, but a single facet remained the same.

I was to leave at the eleventh hour.

Her gray eyes seemed to come to life as she spoke. For too long, our kind have not been welcome there, Ella. For too long we have toiled like wild animals amongst the stones and forests trying to claim a life worth living. But no more. After tonight, things will change.