Princess Awakening: Tower of Sand

The Token

The descending sun shone through the lattice of the broken window and cast the tower room in a gigantic web of light and shadow. Aurelie stared at the silhouette of her own form darkening the closed door, and she did not speak.

Seraphine withdrew the key from the lock and slipped it into her pocket. She waved her shard of glass and glared at Aurelie, as if daring her to try calling for help as the bishop's shuffling steps descended the stair. But Aurelie only studied her shadow. Neither her face nor her body moved. The lower tower door scraped shut.

Seraphine relaxed, leaning against the door and indulging in a low giggle. Then she stooped to pick up the bishop's fallen staff.

Aurelie moved. Her hands slammed against the small of Seraphine's back, shoving her into the floor.

Seraphine caught herself and rolled away, grasping at the keys in her apron pocket and reaching for the staff.

Aurelie bent and tore the pin out from the heart of Seraphine's dress.

Seraphine froze, staring up at her and clutching her dress where the pin had torn a hole.

Aurelie strode backwards, kicking her skirt out of the way, moving toward the fire. Her eyes smoldered in the light of the near-setting sun. She held up the pin, pinching the bone shaft between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. "Don't move," she said. "Or I'll snap it."

Seraphine's mouth dropped open, and her eyes bulged.

Aurelie reached the fire and stopped. "All I have to do is break this little trinket right now," she said, "and all your plans are finished."

"It could still cut you," Seraphine said. Her hands tightened around the staff until her knuckles turned almost white.

"It's not a spindle yet," Aurelie said, giving a hard smile. "It hasn't spun wool, and it has no power to curse me. I can just throw it into the fire, like this." She made as if to toss the pin, and Seraphine rolled, flexing to spring, but Aurelie held up her hand, and Seraphine froze.

Aurelie smiled. Then she kicked the stack of peat logs onto the low flames of the fire. "Hear me now, Madame Seraphine," she said. "If you move, then I will snap this little treasure of yours and toss it into the fire. You will try to save it, but I will fight you. And even if you do manage to get past me, then you will still have to pluck the pieces out of the flames before they are reduced to cinders." Aurelie paused, letting the thought sink in. "How long do you think it will take a little trifle like this to disintegrate in ashes?"

Seraphine's face blanched. She trembled with fury.

A swirl of sparks rose behind Aurelie as the peat and bits of debris caught fire. She smiled. "Even if you do manage to save it, you will still have to make it spin thread before the sun sets, before they come for me and before I walk away from you forever."

Seraphine moaned. Her body drooped toward the floor.

"You have lost," Aurelie said.

Seraphine looked up, glaring at her with unmasked hatred. Then the look changed, folded, her face gathering into wrinkles, her eyes getting lost in the scrunching skin. "Have I really lost?" she said in a soft, sing-song voice.

Aurelie's face remained closed.

Carefully, Seraphine lifted herself away from the floor.

Aurelie stiffened, but she did not break the pin or throw it away.

"Mon lapin, mon agneau," Seraphine said. "I know these tactics because you learned them from me. You are setting me up now, aren't you? You want something. From me. That's why you're still only talking." She rubbed her hands together and rose to her feet. "Let's bargain," she said.