Spindle(82)

Thinking about it now, she wished she would have had a chance to say good-bye to Henry. He was going to carry the weight of guilt unnecessarily. Briar was making the choice, fully aware of the consequences.

She was just glad Isodora hadn’t taken Pansy. The other mill girls didn’t die because they were too old, and Maribelle had the protection of the cloth helping her. Briar patted her pocket and was relieved to feel the cloth. Could it do anything else to help her? The curse was for a girl before her seventeenth birthday. Pansy would have fit that description, too. But Isodora wanted Briar Rose.

At the door, Briar pressed her ear to the wood, straining to hear if the boys were unharmed. There was a noise, but she couldn’t make out what it was. She turned the handle and opened the door a crack. The hinges were blessedly silent.

Candlelight shone from the back of the room. Briar couldn’t see her frames from this angle but knew the light was coming from her area. She scanned the shadowed frames closest to her, looking for two messy-mop-haired boys, but all she saw was thread-laden spindles stacked like tiny soldiers in their frames, waiting to begin the day.

She slipped in, then quietly closed the door behind her, thankful that the wind was making enough noise to cover any rustling of her skirts. Taking a lesson from the children, she clung to the wall to quietly work her way around the room instead of taking the straight path to her frame. The shadowed plants along the windowsills made it feel like she was in a jungle, hunting down a tigress. A tigress who hadn’t heard Briar come in. Or one who was so secure in her trap that she needn’t lie in wait.

There. Isodora’s silhouette bobbed around the frame. What is she doing?

Briar searched her memories for anything her mother might have told her about fairies, even if the stories were mere legend and tale. But her thoughts came up empty. All she could remember was her mother’s singleness of purpose, to protect her family as best she could. To keep Briar out of the mills as long as she could. To be grateful for all they had, the sun, the rain, the forest. She gave Briar a childhood.

Next Briar thought of Ethel. Her desperate attempts to create a new life, no matter how hard she had to work. She was brave in the same way Mam was. Briar drew courage from the women who set the example in her life. Protecting the home. Not exactly what Frances Willard taught, but that’s what Briar was doing.

She might see Mam and Da soon, if Isodora had her way. Briar would be able to tell them all about Pansy and the boys. Oh, how pleased Mam would be to know her children were growing so well. How responsible Pansy was becoming. How much fun the boys were to have around.

A loud snore broke the silence. Briar froze. The boys were sleeping. Was it a natural sleep or did Isodora do something to them? With renewed purpose, she ducked down onto her knees and crept forward to the row before her frame. A little foot stuck out into the aisle. If she could just grab it. And pull. As long as he didn’t cry out. There. She had Jack.

Isodora was still preoccupied with the frame. Maybe she couldn’t get the spindle off, either.

Jack stirred, and Briar held her breath. He blinked, then opened his mouth, but Briar quickly placed her finger to her lips to indicate silence. He nodded then mouthed: Benny.

Briar indicated Jack should sneak out the door, but he shook his head. “Benny.” This time he whispered it. Briar knew not to push him, or he would speak it out loud and Isodora would hear. Instead, she nodded, and peeked around the corner.

She couldn’t see Benny. He must be farther up the row. There was no way for her to crawl over to him without risking being seen. She scooted back to regroup. Jack pointed and waved his arms like he was trying to communicate. Benny might have understood, but she certainly didn’t. Oh, wait. He was telling her to go around the opposite way. Sure. It might work. She could hide behind Annie’s frame and pull Benny to her that way. But she had to be quick, before Isodora noticed Jack was missing.

She mouthed, Wait by the door.

He agreed to that, and the two backtracked silently to the door where Briar left Jack to go get Benny. She prayed Jack would stay put. If there was trouble he could open the door and run. Hide somewhere on the mill grounds until it was all over. The boys were so good at tucking themselves into tight spaces.

Briar crept around the row of frames from the other direction. A mass of thread and roving had been spilled into the aisle. Obviously, the boys had been playing around frame number four. Briar would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. She imagined Isodora trying to make the boys sit still while they waited, but the boys having none of that. They’d pulled off all the bobbins and Isodora had let them unwind the cops. Thread lay like a cobweb pinned from frame to frame, around the spindles, and the fairy was poised like a deadly spider waiting for Briar.

With no time to think, Briar began crawling her way to Benny. He was curled up in a ball, sound asleep in the dim candlelight, and had rolled halfway under one of the frames. Her heart beat so loudly she was surprised Isodora couldn’t hear it. If only Briar could get to Benny, wake him up, and make him run, he and Jack would be safe. He was too close to Isodora for Briar to hope she could crawl all that distance and not be caught. As long as she got him moving before Isodora captured her, the boys had a chance.

Briar knew the moment she crawled into Isodora’s line of sight. There was the clang-clang-clang of a tool falling through the metal frame and a flurry of activity. Briar lunged for Benny.