And what is starlight but the light of a distant sun?
When Rapunzel closes her eyes, she can feel the magic coursing through the tree. It—it’s not hers. Not her power, not her sunlight.
But it’s close enough.
She thinks of the last day in the tower, of Eugene growing cold in her arms, of how desperately she feared that chill. How she reached for the sunlight, and despite everything, it answered her call.
She thinks of Third Street Hospital. Of the chief engineer of the Northeast Secondary Sunmill. Of a closet full of verettes.
And she reaches for the starlight.
Leaves rustle, the fibers of the wood almost like strands of hair, rays of sunlight, threads of starlight, bending for her. By the time she opens her eyes, the bough has descended, the apple now dangling only a few feet from her face.
It looks even stranger up close, lighter freckles dancing over its pale, crystalline periwinkle skin with the rainbow gleams of a prism.
Still singing, Rapunzel reaches up and breaks the apple off the tree.
A rush of starlight swells below her like a tidal wave, as if without the apple draining it, it’s free to flow. Not only does light blaze from the roots, but the dirt, the stone, even the residue on the walls, all of it comes alive with stardust, until Rapunzel’s eyes water. For the first time, little embers of sundrop gold dart through the iridescence.
Maybe she can do more than pick an apple.
She hands the apple to Torch, then stretches out a hand toward the tree.
The starcloud tree shudders from tip to trunk. Indigo leaves flutter down from the branches pressed against the spring’s ceiling, each as translucent as the apple. With a crack, one of the largest roots jerks from the ground, and the brightest flare of starlight yet bursts out from somewhere deep below the tree—
Then Enver’s voice roars in her skull:“NO!”
The root slams back into place, the light guttering out. Rapunzel only barely manages to keep singing between her gasps for breath.
Ruvon’s voice echoes through the cavern. “If we release the sunmill above, the water screw should turn and help pry up the tree!”
“Wouldn’t this whole contraption just be stuck?” Leona asks.
“Obviously not, darling. The mill sails’ crystals have been storing up energy from the sun for twenty years,” Ruvon retorts. “If the water screw weren’t already beyond repair, I’d never recommend it. The amount of force alone…” When he’s met with blank stares, he snaps, “Am I theonlyone who did the reading on sunmills?”
Another pulse of light sears down the roots, a cold silver this time.
Rapunzel jerks back, voice wavering as the magic begins todrag—
And then even the largest roots begin to thrash.
Chaos erupts everywhere.
Torch shouts“It’s Enver!”as cracks split down the walls of the spring.
The ground collapses under their feet. Gnarled roots whip around them all, yanking them up, up, toward a ceiling being ripped open by a thousand shining tendrils. They chew a tunnel through solid rock, and for a moment, all Rapunzel knows is the crash of breaking stone, muffled cries, the slither of roots, and the jostle and bang whenever she’s dragged too close to the wall.
Then the sound of shattering limestone changes to the glassier crack of marble, and they’re unceremoniously shoved up onto the floor of—the audience hall.
The roots jerk Rapunzel to her feet, alongside Leona, Sulian,Ruvon, and finally, Torch. Gasps sweep the already rattled hall.
From all appearances, most of the evening went according to plan, the party seemingly on the verge of winding down before Enver ripped them through the floor—right under the refreshment tables, judging by the mess of food and linens scattered around the crude gaping gash. Most of the guests are bunched up against the walls now, Cressien and Teophine among them, taut with horror. Hughes is hiding his dismay, but his throat bobs as he waits at Enver’s elbow.
And Enver—well, that’s where things went wrong.
Because just like the roots, the tree, and the spring, Enver’s veins are blazing with starlight.
Rapunzel tries to hum around the root jammed between her teeth as a gag. But even if it didn’t come out strangled, Enver’s command over the starlight is unshakable.
