Thread and Spool

by Holly Hook

  His scars.

  That was how he got them.

  I was shaking. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  Stilt frowned for a second. "Because I knew you'd react like this?"

  "No," I said. "It would have cleared a lot up. I can see that you didn't do this on purpose. You should have told me sooner."

  Sylvia ducked her head into the room. All the color had drained from her face. "Alric."

  The word made me forget all about the revelation in the now-shattered crystal ball. Footfalls raced down the hall, and I knew it was already too late. A large hand seized Sylvia by the sleeves and pulled her back. She screamed.

  And Alric stood in the doorway.

  He reached up and lowered his red and black hood. He was a well-groomed middle-aged man with a mustache and a neat beard. He looked more like a professional businessman than some crazy magician, and that made him scarier in a way.

  "Well," he said. "I see you have decided to explore my personal space. Out, both of you."

  He sounded like a teacher reprimanding us. I didn't dare move.

  "You heard me, did you not? Out. Or I will make you."

  "Leave her alone," Stilt said, stepping in front of me. What could he do?

  "Get back," I told him. Alric wouldn't kill me. I was too valuable. But Stilt and Sylvia were worthless to Henrik.

  "You think you have a claim on the future Queen?" Alric asked. "You? You've forgotten your place, elf. Henrik will be interested in hearing about this as well." And then Alric raised one hand and waved us towards him.

  A tremendous force knocked into me from behind, pushing me into Stilt. We went crashing into the hallway as Alric stood out of the way. Sylvia already stood pinned against the wall. Whether she was there on her own or trapped there by magic, I didn't know.

  We crashed into the floor and pain surged up my elbow. I managed to stand, and I reached for Stilt's arm and grabbed it. Alric stood there, staring at both of us, and I tried to run, but my feet stayed stuck to the floor. I felt as if someone had nailed them there.

  Stilt's, too. The elf looked at me with wide eyes.

  We couldn't move. Alric had paralyzed all three of us.

  I begged the pain in my elbow to calm down, and the throbbing started to abate. Alric leaned against the doorway of his office and smiled. I hated the guy. I wondered if he grinned like that when he shrunk that entire village and put those people in jars. Where were they? Maybe they were trapped somewhere in this castle as part of Alric's collection or something.

  And then I heard the worst possible sound.

  More footfalls.

  I turned my head. I could still do that, at least.

  King Henrik walked towards us, Lavine and the cook leading him.

  "There they are!" Lavine shouted. "She's the one who hit me over the head with the platter!"

  I balked but molded my expression into a neutral one. Lavine had to save her own life, after all. She couldn't let on that she'd let me do it. The cook, too.

  "Very good," Henrik told her. "I will take care of this. What were they doing?" he asked Alric.

  "Getting into my office," he told the King. "I believe they may have been searching for your magic mirror."

  But Henrik didn't seem to notice. His gaze crept to me, and he shook his head.

  And then he noticed my hand still on Stilt's arm.

  I let go, but it was too late.

  "I see," he said, approaching. "You like the elf. You like the elf. You, my future queen, like the elf!"

  He raised his hand like he wanted to strike me and I flinched. I couldn't help it. Like the elf? Wasn't Stilt worthy of a name? Maybe Henrik didn't know his actual name.

  Henrik held his hand up for a long time. I about memorized the lines in his palm. He breathed out with rage and finally, he lowered it.

  "You like the elf," he said, smiling.

  That was worse.

  He had a way to get to me now.

  And then he laughed. It was loud, cutting over the howls of the wolves outside.

  "Alric," he managed at last. "Place the elf and the former kitchen girl back in their cell, and make sure that you keep a more personal watch on it. I could use this to my advantage." Henrik took a step closer to me. "You left a lot of straw in the spinning room, my dear. It needs to get finished by morning."

  The air around him hummed with the cold, sharp magic. He had even more of it than Alric did. I just hoped he wasn't as good at using it as the wizard was and that he didn't realize his full potential. Henrik took up everything. He smiled. There was no hurt in his eyes. No jealousy. He didn't care for me at all--just what I could do. The man might not be capable of feelings. And he wasn't capable of compassion.

  "If you step out of line again, dear, ever, then I will have the elf and the former kitchen girl both beheaded, and you will make up the audience. I will ensure that the executioner takes more swings than normal to remove their heads. Why don't you go back to the spinning room and continue your work?" Henrik looked at the cook and at Lavine, who had bruises on their heads. "And by the way, the two of you must be punished for allowing her to escape. Surely the two of you should have overpowered Brie easily, especially with such a strong man present. I believe the Queen and I will begin our honeymoon by watching the two of you lose your heads."

  The color drained from the cook's face and Lavine's as well.

  Henrik was a monster.

  I wanted to yell at him and tell him what he was, but I kept my mouth shut. Lavine stood there and bit her lip, trembling.

  The two of them would die right after Henrik and I got married.

  And I would be watching.

  Finally, I found words. "Do you think that's necessary?" I asked. "You're going to punish your employees because I hit them with a platter? I don't care for them, either, but I think this is a little over the top."

  Henrik stared at me. "You need to rule your servants without mercy, or they will trample all over you."

  He knew.

  He knew that they were working with me. It was there in his eyes. Maybe Alric had seen the truth after all and gone to tell Henrik while the three of us were in his office. He did have that crystal ball, after all.

  And then Henrik backed away.

  Alric took his place, and nausea filled my stomach. He muttered some low words and the room grew larger and larger and the ceiling much farther overhead. It became the sky and the floor, a vast stone plain. The night sky here had no stars. No light. Only the moon shone through the clouds like some wicked half smile.

  We were shrinking.

  Me, Stilt, Sylvia and the servants.

  Henrik's boots met my vision and towered over me. He could lift a foot and crush me right now. Crush Stilt and Sylvia, too. He would get rid of us. I had to hope that he was right that he still wanted Stilt as a bargaining chip.

  Nausea intensified, and darkness pushed in on my vision, swallowing everything.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I woke, all I could see was straw.

  I lifted my head from the floor and looked around. I had returned to regular size, but no one was there with me. The rabbit meat was still on the floor along with the veggies that Lavine had brought for me. She wouldn’t be delivering any more meals.

  King Henrik had found her out, and now she and the cook were going to die.

  Heck, maybe he was planning on killing Stilt and Sylvia as well, even if Stilt returned to evil by then. I didn’t want to see the past Stilt. If he stayed here much longer, I might. But could I still order him around tomorrow if he asked for something I couldn't give? I should be able to if I knew his actual name unless something had changed since I came here.

  Or he'd just tear himself in half in rage to avoid it.

  That would be just as bad as watching him get beheaded unless I could get him to the lighter region again.

  “Is anyone here?” I asked, sitting up.

  No one responded. I reached for the meat and felt it. It was c
old. Room temperature. I had been here for a while.

  And the straw was higher than ever. Henrik had someone pile more in here, just to send me a message.

  I got up, screamed, and sent a kick at the spinning wheel. It slid a couple of feet and came to a stop next to a pile of golden thread. I was going to drown in this stuff if Henrik kept having more piled in here. I waited for someone to come in through the door, but it never opened. My stomach roared in hunger, and I realized I only had the scraps on the floor to eat. I wouldn’t touch them. Maybe if I made myself hungry enough, my magic would fade. Sputter out, and I wouldn’t be able to spin gold anymore.

  But I had to keep going.

  If I didn’t finish this, Stilt and Sylvia would die right along with Lavine and the innocent cook. They had let me beat up on them, and I’d need Stilt’s and Sylvia’s help to get them freed. I wasn’t going to give up on them.

  I had to keep my curse.

  I couldn’t do anything without it.

  With tears blurring my vision, I went back to the wheel, jammed in a bunch of straw, and worked to the howling of the wolves. They quieted as I worked as if satisfied with my progress. I peeked out the window, but it was nighttime. How late? I didn’t know. My hands ached, and I imagined Henrik ordering the deaths of Stilt and Sylvia if he didn’t find this done in the morning.

  I worked and worked. The piles of golden thread grew next to me. I went faster and faster until my mind went numb and I could no longer feel the buzzing in my hands. The light outside turned gray, and I hurried, shrinking the piles before me. My heart raced. Henrik would come in any second, expecting the gold, and I hadn't finished. He had set me up for failure.

  But when the door opened again, two gruff men stood in the doorway. They had a wheelbarrow full of more straw, enough to make me want to scream.

  And this time, Alric stood behind them, arms crossed. He had his hood on, hiding his face and giving me a silent dare.

  The men dumped the wheelbarrow in the room, right on top of a pile of golden thread. The straw mixed in and sank into the mound. It would make it much harder to pluck out.

  Then the men retreated from the room and brought in another wheelbarrow, a different one piled just as high with straw. They dumped that one, too.

  And then a third.

  I felt suffocated in it. I barely had enough room to sit among the straw now. The piles pushed against the base of the spinning wheel and the legs of the stool. My back ached. My stomach hurt even more. My hands had cramped and gone numb. I might never feel them again. I had become a machine. A bank, just like Hardy always wanted. I had ceased to be a person.

  Alric moved forward and stood in the doorway, staring at me. “Henrik almost has enough gold to bring Fable to its knees,” he said. He didn’t sound the happiest about it. “If you spin the rest of this straw, he will gain the power he needs. All of Fable will turn to darkness. And tomorrow morning, you will give him your vow.”

  And then Alric closed the door.

  “Wait!” I shouted.

  But Alric didn’t return.

  I had the feeling the guy didn’t want Henrik to rise—or he was just jealous of it. Jealous was probably right. But Alric was gone. I didn’t have the chance to sway him to my side. It would be dangerous, but it might be my only chance.

  The piles of straw seemed to close in on me. Part of one toppled, pouring over my feet.

  If I didn’t do this, Stilt and Sylvia would die.

  If I did do this, other people would die. Other kingdoms would fall.

  No matter what I did, people would perish. And I would be a prisoner here forever.

  I stood, pulling my feet out of the straw. I couldn’t let either happen. But how? Stilt would give me one more favor—if he could even get to my cell. I had to find him again and ask for one more. I stared at the door. It was tough wood. I could never kick it down. I didn’t have Stilt’s ability to change forms.

  But could I cut it down?

  Could I make a golden ax?

  I had made a butterfly. A swag chain. Even a potholder and an oven mitt for my adoptive mother.

  Why not a weapon?

  Something to stab Henrik?

  Then if I could get to Stilt, I could free him with or without a key. Henrik would have it for sure. And if I made an ax and Alric still detected my magic, he’d just think I was spinning gold—right? His crystal ball had broken. We had taken away his extra set of eyes. All we had left was the wolves and ravens outside.

  I grabbed a massive handful of straw and crammed some long pieces together. I made two long cords and wove them, creating a handle. The heat returned to my hands, chasing the numbness away. I might die because of this, but it was better than living the rest of my days with Henrik. Maybe even forever with him. “I’m not done,” I said, begging the golden flash not to come. “I’m not done yet. I have to add the blade.” I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that, but I grabbed a bunch of straw and started weaving a pattern. It was hard work. I had no crochet hook, and this was no yarn. The straw kept coming undone, over and over, but at last, I had created a few long rows.

  Something clanged against the bars, and I jumped, my heart leaping into my chest. I caught the flash of a platter hitting the bars and a bunch of food toppling through them. Veggies and some meat hit the new straw and lay there, ready for me to eat. They wouldn’t even serve me as a person anymore. Henrik had seen to that. How would he treat me after we were married? I imagined a life locked in a room like this. He might never let me out again.

  Keep working.

  I had to keep going.

  Another row. And another. A triangle in the shape of a blade appeared, curved on one end. I took two long pieces of straw and tied it, careful not to let the thing undo itself. I trembled. Sweat rolled down the back of my neck, and every muscle in my hands was on alert, struggling to get this just right. I tied the blade onto the stick and got rewarded with the golden glow.

  A new weight sagged in my grasp. I blinked, realizing that I held an ax of pure gold. My aching arm struggled to hold it up and brandish it. Could this thing cut through wood? Gold was soft, and this might not be the best weapon.

  But it was better than nothing.

  I needed weapons for Stilt and Sylvia, too. I couldn’t break out of here just yet. The ax’s blade glinted in the light. I couldn’t let Henrik see this if he came by, so I slid it under the straw.

  Swords, then.

  I had no idea how to use them, but Stilt and Sylvia might.

  I went to work on twin handles. It wasn’t as bad as the ax, but it was hard to find straw fibers that were long enough. At last, I was able to get one sword together, a long straw blade that would make anyone laugh. When it failed to flash and turn to gold, I added a hilt, sliding a ring of straw up to where the handle was supposed to meet the blade.

  A flash.

  Weight.

  I stood up, holding a long golden sword in my hands. It was perfect. Pointed at the end. Sharp. The handle glittered with gold designs. Geese. Pumpkins. Birds, and horses. They were light, happy things. It was as if I had brought some of that with me.

  Two more swords, then.

  I went to work, palms sweating, and slid the sword under the straw to lie next to the ax. The light outside got brighter. It was full morning by now. Full daylight.

  I stopped when I heard footsteps approaching. I slid the straw blade in a pile and sat on the stool, cramming in a bunch of straw. I started to spin just as Henrik peeked in through the bars. I pretended to be absorbed in my task as he stared in, silent. I didn’t like that silence. I felt like he was contemplating.

  “You need to work faster,” he ordered.

  I looked up, pretending to be shocked.

  “You will be my wife tomorrow at dawn,” he said, “regardless of whether you finish this room. If you do not finish, your elf and the kitchen girl will die right beside my unfaithful servants. And you will be present to witness it.”

  I sea
rched for something to say. I hoped the king could see the exhaustion on my face and the fact that I was working about as hard as I could. “I’m working as fast as I can,” I promised him.

  I just didn’t tell him on what.

  Henrik seemed happy with that. He turned and walked off in silence. The king hadn’t come in this time, despite all his power. Was he scared of me?

  The girl who could do nothing but spin gold?

  As soon as his footsteps had faded, I pulled out the sword and admired it again. I slid it away and went to work making two more.

  It was long, hard work and my hands were cramping all over again by the time I had finished. Three swords lay in front of me along with the ax.

  I could break out now.

  Provided Henrik wasn't hanging there in the hall, waiting for me to try something.

  And so long as Alric hadn't repaired his crystal ball. If he'd done that, I'd never escape.

  I glanced out the window.

  The night was falling again. I'd worked on my weapons all day. If Henrik stuck with his story, he would come and check on me at dawn. I couldn't believe the time had passed so quickly.

  I needed food. My head swam, and I searched for the veggies thrown in. They still sat there in the straw, waiting to be eaten. I downed them, and they were cold, but I was so hungry that I didn't care. I needed the energy. We were going to be making a break for it, and this was my one chance.

  Could I carry all these weapons out of here?

  I had to.

  I waited for the wolves to start howling before I raised the ax and made the first hack at the door. The wolves would mask the sound of me breaking out. If I didn't, I'd be Henrik's wife in the morning and Lavine and the cook would both die. They must be in the dungeons as well. I could have made them weapons, but if three of us were armed, it was better than nothing.