Free Rapunzel, the One With All the Hair by Wendy Mass Page A

be watched like a child.”
    â€œI fear that Elkin was correct. You will have to prove yourself first. Are you up for bagging a small fox perhaps? Or a hare?”
    â€œAbsolutely not! I dislike the very IDEA of hunting.”
    â€œOkay, okay, don’t bust a gut, we will think of something else.”
    I sit on my bed, fingering the edges of the map, watching him pace. I have the path to the cave memorized. A fat lot of good that will do me now.
    Finally he stops pacing and rests the anvils on the floor. With a deep sigh of resignation, he says, “You’ll just have to bring Elkin with you.”
    â€œWhat? Have you drunk too much ale? You know what he’s like. He will ruin the whole plan. He will try to keep all the treasure for himself!”
    â€œI am not certain of that,” Andrew replies. “Elkin may be unpleasant and rude, but I do not think he is a thief. Further, you are forgetting one important thing.”
    â€œAnd what might that be?”
    â€œThe troll! Once Elkin sees the creature, no doubt he will take off at a gallop in the opposite direction, leaving the treasure to you and, later, Other Benjamin.”
    â€œBut he may not even agree to go with me. Perhaps he’ll insist on staying with the hunting party or — worse yet — on telling Father.” I wring my hands. “Are there no other options but to involve him?”
    Andrew shrugs. “We can wait for the opportunity to present itself again. Of course, Elkin will be leaving in a few weeks, and the only reason you are going on the hunt in the first place is because your father is training him in the ways of being a king.”
    I jerk my head up. “Truly?”
    Andrew’s eyebrows rise. “You did not know? Your formal training was not set to begin for another year. So in a way, you owe Elkin for the fact that you are being allowed into the forest at all.”
    I shake my head sadly. That figures. “Okay. I’ll alert him to the plan and hope for the best.”
    â€œHope for the best, but plan for the worst,” Andrew says, grasping my shoulder. “That is a knight’s motto.”
    â€œGreat motto,” I mumble. “And, ow, that hurt.”
    â€œSorry — don’t know my own strength.”
    I rub my sore shoulder. And I thought the troll would be the worst part of this venture. But no, it’s my froglike cousin!

There has got to be a way to break the witch’s hold over Steven, and I shall find it. I shall not eat or sleep until I do. I pin up my hair (a job that takes longer and longer each morn) and pace the room, sticking close to the walls. At first this makes me dizzy, but soon I adjust and can almost do it with my eyes closed. I say almost because I tried and walked straight into the wall. My nose is now scraped and there is a spot on my chin that will not stop bleeding. The one positive thing to come out of the experience is that when I looked in the mirror to check my wounds, I learned that my pimple is gone.
    For the first time, Steven does not wait for me either to sleep or to stand by the window before he brings me my meal. He swoops down on his rope, with the tray balanced on the tips of his fingers. Before I can even say good afternoon, he places the tray on my table and slithers back up the rope. Before meeting him, I did not know that anything other than a snake could slither. I shall add that to the list ofthings I used to think were impossible. It is getting to be quite a long list.
    While the cold duck and potato soup is inviting, I turn my back on it. I am serious about not eating until I come up with a solution that will lead to our freedom. Hunger sharpens the mind.
    Â 
    MIDDAY
    Contrary to my previously held belief, hunger does NOT, in fact, sharpen the mind. What it does is make your belly growl and your senses dull. As the hours creep by, I can no longer smell the food. As a result of my refusal to eat, Sir Kitty ate more