Spindle

by Shonna Slayton

  Looking disappointed, Henry gently pulled his hand away and tucked the patchwork quilt around her.

  He shrugged at Fanny. “I’ve failed in every way. My kiss didn’t even heal her.”

  Briar blinked. “You thought you could heal me with a kiss?” Okay, that was a little romantic, even if the setup was lacking. “Fairy tales are best left to children,” she said. Hot tears flooded her eyes and she turned to face the wall. How humiliating to be so hopeless that Henry had to resort to kissing her in a final attempt to save her.

  “Maybe she needs Wheeler,” Henry whispered to Fanny, but Briar could hear him. Now her face truly burned. She did not need Wheeler.

  “No, dearie, it’s an old curse, and therefore unpredictable. I can’t say if the kiss would have worked even if you were grounded properly.” She stamped her foot on the worn wood planks. “This floor feels all wrong. I can’t believe it, but Miss Prudence forgot to set the foundation. She never forgets anything. Humph. Must be old age—but don’t tell her I said so.”

  Briar stole a glance to see Fanny nudge Henry back to the bed. “Take her out into the woods and tell her your part of the story. It’ll make you both feel a whole lot better and give me time to think.”

  “I can’t walk,” Briar reminded them. “I can’t even stand. My legs are asleep.”

  Henry shook his head. “They only think they’re asleep. We have to convince them otherwise. I can help.”

  Briar tried not to be annoyed. The last thing she wanted to do was attempt to walk in front of Henry. He really didn’t understand what was happening to her. Or maybe he did. The kiss had distracted her. He knew about the spindle. Which meant her early suspicions that he knew Fanny were correct, too. He knew all about Fanny. And he hadn’t told her any of it.

  “That’s kind of you, but no. Thank you. I’d rather stay here.” She smoothed a wrinkle in the sheet with her fingers, pretending that even that much motion was no big deal.

  “You can sit, can’t you?” Fanny retorted. “May as well get some fresh air.” She exited the door and then returned with a wheelchair. “From town,” she said. “It’s a bit dusty from the walk up the lane, but it’ll do.”

  Briar eyed the set of wheels with distaste. To go from the freedom of a bicycle to the confinement of a wheelchair was too much.

  Henry lifted her like a bale of cotton and transferred her to the chair. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate, and Fanny had to bend them as best she could so they weren’t sticking out too much. So stiff.

  They positioned her like a porcelain doll and she couldn’t fight them. She wanted to punch and kick and flail her arms in protest, but it took all her energy just to breathe.

  “Off you go, then,” Fanny said, tucking the patchwork quilt around her.

  Briar tried to relax as Henry pushed her along the bumpy path, but it was hard to have so little control. The path was narrow and filled with rocks threatening to bump her right out of the chair. She had to completely trust him to steer clear of the branches and keep her from tumbling over. That he could take care of her in the forest, especially if something were to go wrong.

  “Why did you kiss me?” she asked as soon as they were out of sight of the cottage.

  “You mean a reason other than I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months?”

  She could sense the grin in his voice. There it was. The old, incorrigible Henry. Never serious.

  “Tell me. Life has gotten a bit strange since you left. Nothing can surprise me now.” She wanted to hear him say it. To hear him explain how he was not the person she thought he was.

  “I will.” His voice sounded sad again. “But in the proper place.”

  After several minutes of silence, and Henry struggling to push the wheelchair over the forest path, he said, “We’re nearly there.”

  “Thank you for the fresh air,” Briar consented. “I feel better already.” She didn’t really, but it had broken the monotony to get out of bed.

  They continued on until the path ended. Henry tried to forge his own path, but the wheels got stuck in the undergrowth, nearly toppling Briar out. Without a word, he reached down and scooped her up, bouncing her a few times until she was settled snug against his chest. With great effort she put her arm around his neck. “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see,” he said. His voice rumbled from deep within his chest and her stomach flip-flopped at the sound. She wasn’t used to her body reacting this way to Henry. She was used to him being her chum. It didn’t matter that he kissed her not twenty minutes ago, it was going to take some time to get used to thinking about him differently. Time she didn’t have, but desperately wanted.

  His jaw was set in a determined line as he proceeded through the forest. Then he stopped and said, “Here we are.”

  Briar pried her focus off his mouth to see where he had taken her. It was the place with the hollow tree fallen across a little brook. She drew in a deep breath. She hadn’t been back to this place in years. Not since her mother died. If she closed her eyes she could picture Mam bent over the fallen log, arranging the moss for their fairy garden, teaching Briar and also Henry, who insisted on following one day.

  “You remembered,” Briar whispered, looking up into Henry’s eyes. He was grinning like the twins did whenever Briar caught them being especially good. Her gaze dropped to his lips, which were close enough he could kiss her again if he wanted to. Does he want to?

  Again, her pulse quickened. She wanted to stay snuggled in Henry’s arms as long as he could hold her. Too soon, he carefully lowered her to a moss-covered spot on the edge of the glen, and then disappeared back through the woods. He returned with the quilt that had fallen off when he picked her up.

  After spreading it on a flat area, he helped her onto the quilt, finally settling himself behind her. He lifted her up so she rested against his chest. “Comfortable?” he asked.

  His deep voice rumbled through her back and into her chest.

  “Yes,” she squeaked.

  “Did you know that this was where my family first built a home? When they came to America?”

  “I never thought about your family coming to America. Guess I thought they always lived here.” She looked around for a stone foundation but didn’t see one. “It’s so far away from everything.”

  “Exactly. They wanted to stay away from everyone. But the well they dug dried up in the summers and then they decided it would be better to move closer to the big creek, where the house is now.”

  “Where did they come from?”

  “Now that is where the story gets interesting.” He leaned back on his hands.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The woods were silent except the call of two warblers on opposite trees talking back and forth. To Briar it seemed like the one bird was trying to get the other bird to come over to his tree, but his friend was reluctant. Briar waited for Henry to continue. Breathe in. Breathe out. He was taking an awfully long time to collect his thoughts.

  “I hoped that one day I’d be telling you this story, but I didn’t expect it to be like this.” He reached out with his hand to indicate her lifeless legs. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and she nestled back against him.

  “My family roots go way back to the Black Forest in Germany.” He held out his calloused hands. “Not that you can tell by looking at us now, but we come from kings and queens. Back then, my family used to throw the biggest parties. Everyone would come, decked out in their finest, wearing their most expensive jewels, so I’ve been told. The last party was one to celebrate the birth of a special princess. You see, my family tends to produce boys, boys, and more boys, so the arrival of little Aurora was special.”

  Briar lifted her head to see Henry’s face. “Fanny told me about the story of Aurora. I didn’t realize you were related to her. I thought maybe I was, my name being what it is and, well, with what is happening to me.”

  “Yes, Briar Rose. Your name caused quite a stir when you and your family moved i
nto the valley. Miss Prudence put everyone on alert. Your name was too much of a coincidence for her liking. You know how she prefers life to march along in a particular, unchanging way.”

  “Is that why you started following me everywhere?”

  “What? No. Yes. No.” He laughed nervously. “I followed you around because I thought you were pretty. And then when I saw how kind you were to others, the way you are taking care of the children, your tenderness with them, your patience with the boys, I fell hard for you. You are unlike any other girl I know.”

  Briar’s face warmed. She had no idea Henry noticed all those things about her.

  “And if it weren’t for me,” he continued, “you’d be outside playing with the children right now same as always. I should have left well enough alone.”

  “What are you talking about? You didn’t make me prick my finger.”

  “I’m getting to that. So, you know about Aurora from Fanny’s telling. Did she tell you what happened after Aurora woke?”

  “Only that Isodora figured out what had happened and was furious about it.”

  “Yes, but the fairies dealt with her. Aurora was the one left with the problem of the spindle.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The spindle was still poisoned. The handsome prince, as they like to call my long-ago grandfather, tried to hack it to pieces with an ax, but it wouldn’t bust. Aurora tried to burn it in the hottest fire, but it barely singed.”

  Briar thought of the spindle and the burn mark she had noticed.

  “They tried to bury it in the ground, but the earth would shift and spit it back up again. They could not be rid of the thing. It was terrible. They tried for years, and nothing they did would destroy it. They lived in fear of someone in their household pricking their finger. It tempts people to touch it.”

  “The girls at the mill said it smelled like apple pie.”

  “Apple pie? I suppose. I always thought it smelled a bit rotten.”

  Briar wrinkled her nose, thinking of the smell. “Me, too. I didn’t know why the girls liked the smell so much. Anyway, I’ll tell you about that later. Please continue.” Briar put her hand to her throat. It was starting to hurt again.

  “Aurora was convinced that the spindle would get its revenge on her daughter. She was scared to have children, but fortunately for her, all her children were boys. Mama thinks the fairies had something to do with that. Even though the family is prone to boys, there has not been a girl born into the Prince family since Aurora.”

  “That is unusual.”

  Henry took Briar’s hand from her throat and held it, stroking his thumb in circles, taking her mind off the pain. Why did she have to find out now, when it was too late, how good it felt to be in Henry’s arms?

  He cleared his throat. “Fear grew and spread. The servants gossiped about what was going on at the castle and it began to affect the kingdom. Normally parents push their daughters at princes, hoping to make a match, but no one who knew the story was willing to part with a daughter, even if it meant she would become royalty. The family was shunned, blamed for the problem.

  “Many generations later, and many attempts to rid themselves of the spindle, they finally decided to do something drastic. They sent a youngest son to take the spindle to the new land, America, to hide in a remote valley and guard the spindle to his dying days. The legacy of protection would pass to each generation. No one leaving the valley. No one calling attention to themselves. No one tipping off Isodora to the spindle’s current location. They would live in poverty and seclusion, the opposite of royalty so as to keep the secret. He was the one who named the area Sunrise Valley in memory of Aurora. She had long passed, and they thought it would be a fitting tribute, since her name means sunrise.”

  “So your family has been guarding the spindle all this time? At least until Isodora found it.” A shiver ran down Briar’s body as she remembered speaking with the fairy who wanted her dead.

  He shifted, pulling her in tighter. “Cold?” He wrapped his other arm protectively around her, and rested his chin on the top of her head.

  Briar nestled in deeper.

  “This is the part that’s going to be hard to confess,” he said. “Know how deeply sorry I am, Briar. I thought I was doing the right thing. My parents tried to talk me out of it, but finally relented after I was so persistent. Perhaps they were as hopeful as I was to rid ourselves of the responsibility. When I saw Fanny here in place of Prudence, I thought you were in danger. Something had changed. We had been protecting you, just in case, for so long, and I panicked. They told me they didn’t know where Isodora was, so I wanted to get the spindle as far away from here as possible. As far away from you as possible.” His hand squeezed tighter. “The irony is, if I had continued on with my regular life, going to the mill as if nothing was wrong, acting the way my family has for generations, you wouldn’t be lying here in my arms now.”

  Briar lifted her head so Henry could see her face. See that she didn’t blame him for anything. See how much she wanted to be lying in his arms.

  “You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

  Henry’s intense gaze met hers. “But I did. The first time I met Fanny was when my parents told me who we really are. They waited until they thought I was old enough to keep their secret, yet young enough to have not made real plans of my own. Fanny helped explain the seriousness of what we do. They told me the consequences of losing the spindle. She feels responsible herself, since her blessing over Aurora and the spindle continues on in ways she didn’t expect.”

  “Can’t you walk away?” Briar asked the question she already knew the answer to. Henry was too dependable to walk away. That’s what she loved about him. Everyone else in her life who left, left for good. But Henry came back. Always Henry.

  “No. But if the town keeps growing the way it is, we are going to have to move. We’re finding too many girls wandering onto our property even though we have fences and all those signs up. Remember that day I brought you home?”

  Briar nodded. “I didn’t think your mam liked me much.”

  “I’d never seen her so angry, and with good reason. I came back outside and you were walking in a daze toward the house. You should have seen your face. The spindle was pulling you in.”

  Briar remembered the jittery feelings she felt while near the house. She thought it was nerves because of the KEEP OUT signs. But it was the spindle. “I had no idea.”

  “The fairies would come every few years and supervise while we tried to destroy it. The only trial that even came close was when we submerged it in the river. It didn’t seem to like the water. It came back to us, but aged. Fanny could feel that the curse had been touched somehow.”

  “Why does the spindle come back to your family?”

  “Prudence thinks it’s because of Aurora, her bloodline. The spindle seeks her out and we are the closest thing.”

  He took a deep breath, his chest rising and lifting her up with it, as if he were helping her breathe. “The day after Fanny arrived, I spoke with her in the woods, told her of my plan. She wants this to end as much as we do.”

  Briar nodded. That secret meeting was the conversation she overheard.

  “I saw an opportunity. It was like a window in time had opened up. There was a change in destiny and I wanted to seize the moment and change my family’s future. You helped me with that when you pointed out how strange it was that we never left the valley.”

  “I shouldn’t have said that. I was only frustrated that I couldn’t leave the valley.”

  “Doesn’t matter anymore. You know already that I dropped the box in the middle of the ocean?”

  “Yes. The spindle box.”

  “You want to know how Isodora could possibly get hold of the spindle from the bottom of the sea? I don’t know. There was that storm.” He nestled his head in the crook of her neck. “My family will never be rid of it.”

  “You might be soon,” Briar said quietly. “If the cur
se is fulfilled…if I die…you will be free. Promise me you’ll watch out for the children. They love you dearly and I know you’ll do right by them, making sure they go to good homes.”

  “No. No!” Henry squeezed her tight against him, as if trying to keep her alive by sheer will. “We’ll all think of something. You have life in you, Briarly Rose, and we’re going to think of something.”

  She didn’t want to hurt him, but she had to face reality. “My birthday is the day after tomorrow.” What she didn’t say was that she felt the poison pressing in on her lungs like fingers looking for a weak spot, and it was getting harder and harder to fight it. No one can stop the curse now. It’s too late.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  When Briar woke up in the darkness she could tell something was different. What felt like a wall keeping the sleeping sickness steady was gone. The pins and needles feeling was stronger now and once again traveling up her body. Her stomach. Her ribs. It was working its way through her bones and into her lungs, and then it would hit the target—her heart.

  Afraid her panic would make the poison travel faster, Briar slowed her breathing and focused on the things that mattered. Pansy. The boys. Henry.

  Henry had been so tender with her on the way back to the cottage, and the way he lowered her onto the bed. Even though Pansy was hovering, wanting to care for Briar herself, he plumped up Briar’s pillow and tucked her in. Told Pansy she could take the night shift.

  Like Briar did while she was spinning, she released what her body was doing and retreated into her mind. She imagined happier days. She looked over at the bundles in the beds near her. The boys. Jack soundly sleeping, but Benny wrestling with monsters in his sleep. He’d gotten all twisted up in his sheet.

  As the sunrise warmed the world and started to brighten the room, Briar drank in Pansy’s sweet face. Her long eyelashes restful on her cheeks, her heart-shaped lips, parted open to breathe. She’d been such a help to Briar these last few days. As Pansy rubbed the liniment into Briar’s sleeping legs there was a deep concentration etched on her dainty features, as if through force of will Pansy would save her sister.