Spindle(80)

Briar shook her head. “No, they’ll try to talk me out of it.”

“And they’d be right. Briar, they can do things we can’t.” Henry looked angry. “Isodora wants you dead.”

“I’m not afraid. I thought I was going to die before. I was ready to die. But I’m alive for a reason. It’s not fair for the boys to be caught up in Isodora’s schemes.”

He took a deep breath, stared out into the forest. “It isn’t fair for you to be caught up in this, either. I should go and get the boys out.”

“Can we talk about this in the wagon? Fanny and Prudence can find us later and try to talk me out of it, but we need to move now.”

He rubbed the tension in the back of his neck. “Let’s go.”

For being such a warm day, the weather had taken a quick turn to cold. Briar climbed up into the wagon with a boost from Henry. The breeze blew harder, as if trying to snatch away the breath she had finally regained. It was refreshing to take in a crisp breath after feeling like she was on fire and breathing in embers earlier. But her arms complained, rising up in gooseflesh.

Henry settled beside her, his leg touching hers and his body blocking some of the wind.

“Ready?” He reached for her hand.

Briar welcomed his touch. She was still a bit shaky and could use some of his steadiness. What would they face when they got to the mill? Had Isodora hurt the boys? Briar squeezed Henry’s hand before he let go to hold the reins.

The horses clip-clopped their way down the road, their hoof beats muffled by the fog, adding to the dreamlike atmosphere. If people were calling out for the boys, the fog was pocketing their voices before they reached her ears.

“It’s good the horses know this route so well,” Henry said. “I can’t even tell where we are. If I had to lead them we’d be stuck in the brambles by now.” Henry continued talking, trying to keep Briar’s mind off the trouble they were about to face.

“I’m sorry, Briar,” Henry said again.

“Stop apologizing. It’s Isodora. You were trying to end this for your family and for anyone else she would target. You saw something evil and you tried to destroy it. You didn’t create the spindle. Isodora did.”

He squeezed her hand. “We will end this.” He clicked his tongue, urging the horses to trot faster.

Soon they were on the outskirts of town. The buildings materialized out of the fog as if from nowhere. Few lights were shining in the windows at this time of night, so the town was mostly dark shadows as the carriage light passed by, lighting up the fog. The street lamps were mere points of light, but the closer they rode to the mill the dimmer the lights and the more shadowy the buildings.

“I’ll go in and get the boys out to you,” Henry said, his voice like steel. “Once you put them in the carriage, head straight for home. Give the horses their head and they’ll take you home to my folks. Don’t wait for me, I’ll be fine. It’s not me she wants.”

“Henry, I think that’s the point. She won’t let you have the boys. If I don’t go in, she could hurt them.” Henry couldn’t be the sacrifice. Isodora didn’t want Henry. She wanted Briar. They both knew it.

“Whoa,” Henry said, stopping the horses. He looped the reins on the wagon. “Briar, do you see that?”

Her mouth went dry. “Yes.”

They were parked in front of the gates to the mill yard, but you wouldn’t know it from what blocked their way. Thick, thorny vines had sprung up out of the sandy ground and had wound their way around the iron, barring anyone from getting near the gate, let alone the lock. The vines creaked and groaned as they continued to grow thicker and Briar watched in fascinated horror. What were they going to do?

Henry hopped down and came around the other side to help Briar down. “You okay? Legs still fine?”

Briar bounced a little to prove to him she could do whatever was called for tonight.

“Does Miss Olive keep an ax?” Henry asked.

She nodded and they rushed down the street to the boardinghouse. Briar knocked gently, not wanting to wake up the whole house. Miss Olive opened the door like she’d been waiting.

“What do you need?” she whispered.

“An ax,” Henry said.

“Stay right here.” Miss Olive shut the door. She was back moments later with her overcoat and an ax. “Nice to see you well, Briar,” she said. “The girls were worried.”

“Thanks. No need to come with us,” said Briar. “We’ll bring the ax back in the morning.”

Miss Olive responded by leading the march to the mill, carrying the ax herself. “I’ve been expecting something to happen ever since this fog rolled in. You two care to share with me what you are doing in town in the middle of the night?”

“I need to get inside the mill,” Briar said.

“And the ax is to break the lock?”

Briar shook her head and pointed.

Miss Olive stopped and silently took in the briars, which had grown twice over in the short time they’d been gone. They were taller and thicker and the thorns sharper.

“Oh my,” she said. “I didn’t expect that.” She handed Henry the ax and then marched up to examine the briars. They seemed to shy away from her, pulling back where she drew close but not letting her pass.