Spindle(81)

Some of Briar’s bravado faltered at seeing Isodora’s magic at work. Alive and responsive, the briars were terrifying. This is not going to be easy.

Thwack. Thwack. Henry began chopping at the vine.

The sounds were muffled thumps in the thick fog. With every chink he made in one part of the vine, two others would spring up in its place, making the area he was trying to cut through thicker than when he started.

“It’s enchanted. We’re only making it worse,” Henry said. He dropped his ax and looked at Briar with sorrowful eyes. “I don’t know what else to do. When my elder grandfather broke through to the castle, the briars almost let him through, like they were allowing him to pass.”

“That’s because I put those briars there,” Miss Olive said. “To protect Aurora until her prince came. But I didn’t make these. These are meant to keep you out.”

Briar did a double take. “You, too?” she asked. She had been surrounded by fairies and didn’t know it. “Is there anyone else I need to know about?”

“No, dearie, just us three. Prudence is back now, is she?”

Briar nodded, searching her memory for anything in Miss Olive’s behavior that could have tipped her off. After all Briar’s mother had told her of fairies, had she known they were real?

The trio paced in front of the impenetrable wall. Henry hacked all along the gate, but found no weakness. “There’s no way in,” Henry concluded, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“But they might let someone in,” said Briar. “The person who Isodora wants to come in.” Briar tentatively pulled a vine, being careful to avoid the thorns. As soon as she touched it, the plant parted, leaving a small gap. “Me.”

“That’s it, Briar,” exclaimed Miss Olive. “Keep going.”

“I’m going with you,” Henry said.

Briar nodded and reached out her hand. Together. They would go together.

“I’ll be right behind you,” said Miss Olive.

Briar reached out again and touched the thorny vine. It trembled under her fingertips, as if it knew it was supposed to do something for her. She tugged. She pulled. But the vine remained fast. She let go of Henry’s hand to get a better grip, and when she did, she found she could easily move the branches. “It’s working,” she called out in excitement as she pushed her way into the thick of the hedge. “Stay with me, Henry.”

“Briar!” came his frantic call. He sounded so far away. “Briar, stop!”

She looked back, but all she saw was thorns and dark, twisted vines. She began to panic. “Henry? Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“The briars won’t let me in,” he said. “They only want you.”

Her breath came in little gasps. Briars. They know my name.

They only want me.





Chapter Forty-Four



It was so dark. Darker than the night sky. Briar took a deep breath and tried to push away the claustrophobic feeling of the briars and thorns pressing in on her. Since she couldn’t see anything, anyway, she closed her eyes tight to protect her sight. With arms out in front, she felt her way through the thorns and prickles.

Ouch. They jabbed at her, drawing blood. Their attack felt personal, vindictive. Her heart raced as she battled the thorns. They were letting her in, but reluctantly. Like stinging scorpions, they’d jab then back away and let her move forward one more step. After surviving the spindle, she knew she could tolerate a new level of pain so she steeled herself and slowly pressed on.

Henry’s voice had long ago dimmed, and she was truly on her own now. She pictured him fighting the hedge with his ax, frustrated and getting nowhere. His family was the protector of the spindle, but now the spindle was back in Isodora’s control. She would not be satisfied until she got her revenge and she’d come closer with Briar than at any other time. Her will was strong. Briar would have to be stronger if she were to find a way out of this alive.

The branches creaked and groaned in an eerie rhythm as they grew. The hedge towered over her head, and the way in front of her seemed endless. How thick and tall would the briars get? She fought against rising panic. Her head throbbed, and her competing instincts to flee and to save the boys pulled her in two directions. The boys. She needed to keep her mind focused on the boys. Those poor, scared boys. They were what mattered right now.

The narrow passage was like a tiny hallway that continuously closed in on her from behind, directing her forward. The thorns scratched at her arms as if disappointed they couldn’t hold on to her. But as she moved away from Henry and Miss Olive and inched closer to the mill and Isodora, the branches parted more easily.

“Briar.” A voice called above the rising howl of wind.

She peered through the darkness trying to see the dark form caught in the briars. “Nanny? Are you hurt?” Briar asked.

“No, but I can’t move. Isodora is stronger than we think. Don’t be fooled. I’ve never seen her so determined.”

Briar swallowed nervously. “I’ll do my best.” She redoubled her efforts to get through the briars.

Finally, they let her go completely and she found herself alone in the darkened mill yard. The air here was still, despite the wind roaring around the briar hedge.

A flickering light shone in the window of the third-floor spinning room. The light drew Briar to it, the way the lightning bugs called the boys. Up the stairs she went. Trade her life for the boys’.