Briar tested her limbs to see what would move. Not her toes. Not her knees. Not her thighs. She tried to bend at the waist, something she could do yesterday, but her body wouldn’t respond today.
Alone, and not having to put up a front for anyone, Briar let herself fall apart. This was it, then. Today or tomorrow was all she had left.
What would you do if you only had one day left to live?
It was a question often asked at the boardinghouse in the middle of the night when room-mates couldn’t sleep. Mim had gotten serious and said she’d hop on a train and go home. Ethel’s answer made much more sense now. She’d said she’d hold a baby to remind herself that life goes on. Briar couldn’t remember what she’d said. It was probably something grandiose like take the children to the ocean and pretend they could see Ireland off in the distance. But now that the reality was in front of her, she realized she just wanted to be. Be still. Be present.
She’d made her peace with God long ago and wasn’t scared of what happened after she died. It was the dying part she was nervous about.
“Briar, do you want me to do your hair for church?” Pansy asked. She’d gotten out of bed and had started to pack up the bedroll.
Briar blinked away her tears and smiled wide at Pansy, putting all sad thoughts behind a facade. She shook her head. “I’ll not be going today.”
“But you always go,” Jack said. He yawned as he climbed onto the bed.
“Who’s going to keep us from getting in trouble?” Benny asked as he stretched himself awake. “We don’t listen to Pansy.”
Not pausing from her rolling, Pansy stuck out her tongue at the boys.
Briar touched Jack’s hair, wincing as she raised her arm. “You are old enough to stop yourselves from getting into trouble,” Briar said. “Behave, and look out for each other.”
Briar blinked the sleep from her eyes. She took some experimental breaths. She had a few more hours, she guessed. Her lungs were tight, but the air still eked in. Her face was likely pale, and she hoped the children wouldn’t be scared. Fanny should send them away for the night. Perhaps Mrs. Prince could take them in until Briar passed. It was selfish for Briar to want to keep everyone snuggled close to her.
The children were back and had gathered around her bed with big grins. Briar wondered if they’d found another stray animal to bring home. What time was it anyway? She smiled at them.
“They can’t fit inside the house, so they made a ring around the yard. Everyone’s holding hands and praying for you.” Benny bounced on his toes as he spoke.
“Who?”
“The whole valley.”
“And Miss Ethel and Miss Mim,” said Jack, blushing. He had a little boy’s crush on Mim ever since she slipped him those first sweets when they came to town to see where Briar lived.
Mr. and Mrs. Prince came into the cottage with apologetic, worried looks. “How are you, Briar?” Mrs. Prince said quietly.
They must feel as guilty as Henry. How to let them know how genuinely she was touched by their concern? “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered. Now she knew why Mrs. Prince didn’t want Briar at the farm. It wasn’t because she didn’t like spinner girls. She was merely trying to protect them.
Briar’s attention was drawn to Henry hovering near the door, with Ethel and Mim. They might have news of Maribelle. If Briar were to go to her maker tonight, she’d like to go knowing Maribelle was on the mend.
The Princes expressed their well-wishes while Fanny organized all the food they’d brought: biscuits and eggs and onions and garlic. And what was that? A cake. Fanny met Briar’s gaze. Someone had baked her a birthday cake for tomorrow.
Would she be alive to eat it? She looked at Henry with Jack and Benny climbing all over him. If Briar died from the spindle wound, Henry would be free. And she knew he would take care of the children. Not from guilt, but because he loved her family as much as she did.
The Princes excused themselves, opening up space for Ethel and Mim to move in. Ethel sat on Briar’s bed. “Miss you back at the house. If you stay away too long I’ll take on airs as a lady lounging about with a bed all to herself.” She followed Briar’s gaze. Grinning, she raised her eyebrows. “It’s good to have Henry back, isn’t it?”
Briar smiled. It was strange to feel so ill and so happy at the same time. “What have you decided? Are you staying?”
Ethel took a deep breath. “My mother-in-law sent me a letter that he’s trying to get help. She thinks he’s serious this time.”
“You don’t?” Briar asked, reading the skeptical expression on Ethel’s face.
Ethel looked down at her hands. “His mom doesn’t know how many times I’ve heard that. But for now I’ll stay in town. He could have gone into work and claimed my wages, but he didn’t. If he comes back I’ll leave and go even farther away, but Mim said she’d move with me.”
Mim chimed in. “Not that it will come to it. By the by, Miss Olive wanted us to let you know Maribelle will make a full recovery. She was barely sick, not like some of the other girls. We went to see her in the shanties. What a beautiful child she is. We brought her sweets and you’d have thought we brought her the moon.”
While Mim caught Briar up on the house gossip, Jack was inching his way around the room, getting closer to them. He especially perked up when Mim said the word “sweets.” Mim was pretending not to notice, but when Jack got within arm’s distance she reached out and grabbed him, drawing him up onto her lap. “Gotcha, cutie pie.” She tickled him until he squirmed away and chased Benny outside in happy embarrassment.
Ethel smiled at Mim. “You’ll make a good mom.”
Looking surprised, Mim nodded. “Thanks.”
“Did you two become friends since I’ve been gone?” Briar asked. Her voice came out like a hoarse whisper. She hadn’t the strength to be louder. While it was nice to have visitors, she needed rest. So much rest.
Mim put her hand on Ethel’s arm. “You could say we’ve come to an understanding of each other. Nothing in life is a given and you really don’t know what other people are going through, do you?”
Briar caught Henry’s eye. “No, no you don’t.”
“All right, sweetie.” Mim stood, then bent down to give Briar a hug. “I wish we could stay longer, but the sun is on its way down. You get better soon, all right? I don’t know how long this truce with Ethel will last.” Mim spun around and waltzed out of the room.
Ethel sighed, and started to tuck the quilt around Briar. “Oh, I almost forgot. I thought you’d want some things from the house.” She disappeared outside and came back with the patchwork quilt from their bed and the novel Briar had left under her pillow. “The quilt will remind you of your second home and how we are missing you. The novel will remind you that you’ve left things undone. We’ve more lectures to attend, you and me.” She patted the quilt. “I’ll need this back before it turns cold again, so you must get on your feet soon, you hear?” She waved her hand in front of her face like a fan. “Not that it feels like this heat will ever end.”
Briar shivered. While everyone else was fanning themselves, she was alternating between freezing and feeling like she was breathing in fire at the same time. She was grateful for the extra warmth Ethel had thoughtfully brought her.
With a final wave, Ethel followed Mim outside. Henry tapped the door edge. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’ll just see the ladies off.”
Briar nodded, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Even if she could breathe well, she’d have a hard time watching her best friends leave, knowing it was the last time she was to see them. Amazing how close the three of them had gotten. Miss Olive said she put them together for a reason. She knew all along how much they needed each other.
“She’s pale as death!” Mim said as soon as she was out the door, likely not realizing her voice carried. “Did you notice the blue tint to her lips? I didn’t want to leave her.”
“Henry? What do you think?” Ethel said.
“She’s going to be fine. Don’t worry. Tell Miss Olive things are as expected here.” His voice faded as they walked away from the cottage.
The lump in her throat refused to go away. Briar tried to clear it, but breathing was still difficult. She tried a deep breath but could only manage several short pulls, forcing herself through the pain. Death was progressing. How much longer did she have? When Henry returned, she’d ask him to take the children home with him for the night. He could get them excited about sleeping away from home and then be there to help them grieve.
Pansy came over and collapsed into the chair near Briar’s bed. “That was so nice of everyone, but I’m tired.” She looked at the piles of food stacked up in the kitchen. “How are we going to eat all that?”
The two sisters looked at each other and started laughing at the rare abundance. Pansy’s laugh grew and grew until she was sobbing into Briar’s quilt brought from the boardinghouse. Briar stroked her hair in comfort, wishing she herself wasn’t the source of this grief.
“I could eat a little now,” Briar said, to give Pansy something to do. In reality, Briar had no interest in food. Her stomach wouldn’t accept any, and certainly wouldn’t process any of it. But Pansy, ever the help, jumped up to look through the goodies.
“Hope you didn’t see your surprise for tomorrow,” Pansy said, sliding the cake in behind a basket of potatoes. “Mrs. Clover made it, and you know what a good baker she is. She’ll tell you so herself,” Pansy added. She turned to share another laugh with Briar, but Briar couldn’t join her.
The air wouldn’t come.
Briar took her first strangled breath, and Pansy was immediately at her side. They looked at each other with wild eyes.
Pansy ran outside.
Chapter Forty
Minutes later the door burst open and Henry was there, kneeling at her side. When Briar reached out, he took her hand in his. His breath came in gasps like he’d just run halfway from town. She was in full panic now. Her focus was gone. She could no longer retreat into her mind; the stress of breathing was all she had. Isodora had won. After all these years the curse would be broken.
“No, no, no,” Henry coaxed, eyes fixed on Briar’s. “Follow me. Breathe with me.” He mimicked taking in deep breaths. “Come on, Briar, breathe with me.”
A commotion was going on outside, noises with no meaning, getting louder and louder.
Briar shook her head. No. Keep Pansy away. Mim and Ethel okay. Breathe. Breathe. She gasped in air, but it burned like sparks and wasn’t enough. The sounds died down to silence and Briar wondered if this was the end. She fought for each breath.
A woman in a rose-colored gown, plain bell skirt with layered lace bodice, strode into the room, Fanny at her heels. The woman’s silver hair was tucked up into a matching rose-colored felt hat adorned with white flowers. She was aged but held herself proudly as if she refused to believe she was not in the prime of her life. To see her in the street, one would think she was an uptown society lady. But to see her in the country cottage was out of place.
“I tried to stop her.” Fanny held out her hands, looking like a frustrated child. Her hair was askew is if she’d been in a fight and a scratch on her cheek was starting to bleed. Beyond the front door were oddly shaped trees, sprung up from nowhere, a dense forest with sharp branches.
Briar could only blink and continue to struggle to breathe. Who was this? Why was she in the cottage, crowding out the air with her smile?
Fanny threw some pebbles above the woman, and in midair there was a burst of pink, a smell of roses, and then the pebbles stretched and joined, transforming into a large silver birdcage with bars encircling the intruder. With a wave of her hand the woman walked through the bars and then sent them to encase an enraged Fanny.
“Let her go, Prince,” the woman said. “It’s too late now. She’ll die, and I’ll be released. I can already feel myself getting stronger with each breath she loses. And you’ll have to live with the guilt that it was all your fault for losing the spindle.”
Isodora. Her turquoise eyes were the same as the peddler’s.
“Oh, look. She recognizes me.” Isodora tilted her head, examining Briar. “The eyes, isn’t it? Eyes are hard to change. Not that I needed a disguise to fool you, but it amuses me to play a role. A peddler is oft more trusted than a gypsy woman, and an overseer can push a spinner girl to her limits.”
Briar blinked. Isodora was also her overseer? She imagined dark glasses over the face. Fanny was right, Isodora had been close by all along.
Henry stood protectively between Briar and Isodora. “Undo it. You have no reason to hurt this girl. She isn’t a part of this.”
“She is now. I’ve come too far to turn the other cheek, if that’s what you want me to do. Silly notion. Your family line hasn’t produced a girl since that ugly baby Aurora. It has to be an innocent. Don’t blame me, blame them.” She pointed at Fanny who was busy trying to break out of her own cage.
“Please,” Briar gasped. “The children.”
Henry looked pleadingly at Fanny. “Is there really nothing we can do?”
“Stay where you are, Henry,” Fanny said. She rattled the cage door. “Love is the only thing that will protect Briar now. Isodora’s magic can’t get past it. Don’t let her intimidate you.”
“Where’s Prudence? I thought she was coming?” he asked.
Isodora laughed. “Are you talking about that old tracker the fairies sent after me? She’s not as good as she used to be. I lost her long ago. Doesn’t matter. The Prince family doomed a girl the moment the young one here set foot on a ship. It was only a matter of time before a Prince became reckless. Or forgetful. People’s memories are so short. They claim to learn from the past, but they don’t. They think they can change destiny, but they can’t.”
The edges of Briar’s vision began to blur. Isodora was smiling. She was happy Briar was dying. She was happy Briar’s lungs were on fire and each breath brought sharp daggers edging their way into her heart, leaving tiny cuts behind. But Briar wouldn’t stop trying to take a breath. Trying to live.
“There is a world beyond which human eyes cannot see. The elder Princes could tell you that my spindle calls to me. It had been dark for so many years. I’m not sure how you managed that.” She looked at Fanny. “Your doing?”
Fanny scowled at her.
“But then one day it called out to me. It was on the move, looking to be free. And the best part?” She laughed. “I didn’t know the girl would be this one.” She jerked her chin in Briar’s direction. “How fitting to find a girl named Briar Rose to exact my revenge.” She looked at Fanny as if for agreement. “I couldn’t have planned it better.”
Fanny deepened her scowl.
“Fanny, please,” Henry said. He bent close to Briar. “She can’t breathe. What can we do? There must be something.”
“Dearies, I’m so sorry. I-I’ve done all I know to do.”
Isodora crossed her arms. “I won. Power lies in one’s foundations. The fairies know this. If you could stand on the land of the Old Country you might be able to save her, but this land doesn’t know me. It can’t touch my curse.”
“What do you mean?” For the first time Henry turned his full attention to Isodora.
Briar made a noise, trying to talk. Get her out. In her final moments she didn’t want this awful stranger standing over her and gloating. She wanted Henry to sing the farewell reel. To release her. Da sang it for her mam, Briar sang it for her da, now it was her turn to let the notes carry her away.
He put a steadying hand on her arm as if to reassure her.
“Is that what you meant when you said I needed to be grounded?” Henry asked Fanny. “Is that the only reason the kiss didn’t work?”
Fanny nodded. “She loves you, even if she doesn’t realize it herself yet.”
Briar’s eyes were wide. She did realize it. Ever since Henry came home. Too late, though. And now she couldn’t speak the words. Couldn’t even
breathe them.
But Henry turned back to her with his big grin. He squeezed her hand. “I have something for you.”
He leaped up and began searching the room. Pansy was peeking in the doorway, watching it all. “Pansy,” Henry said, “where is my bag? I left it here.”
“Under the bed. I cleaned up.” She stepped into the cottage and inched along the wall, like Jack had done earlier.
Quickly, Henry reached under the bed and pulled out his pack. “I never did give you my gift. Now’s as good a time as any.”
“Oh isn’t this a sweet picture?” mocked Isodora. “A final romantic gesture.”
Henry whispered in Pansy’s ear. Her eyes opened wide, and she nodded. Then Henry pulled back the sheet covering Briar and reached under to scoop her up.
“Really, Henry,” chastised Fanny. “She can see your gift fine lying down. Let the girl be.”
But Henry ignored her, first lifting Briar up, and then positioning her so she leaned against his shoulder as he gripped her waist. Her useless legs dragged on the floor like marionette limbs.
“Now, Pansy,” Henry said. His voice was urgent.
Pansy reached into the pack and fiddled with something inside. Then quick as a hummingbird she pulled out a small sack and dumped its contents over the floor. Dirt.
Before anyone else moved, Henry stood on the dirt and kissed Briar with all the strength and passion that the first desperate kiss had lacked.
“No!” Isodora darted forward and shoved the two off the floor and onto the bed.
Briar gasped as she fell, and pulled in enough air to feed her blood. She felt the oxygen push past the poison and enter her lungs. As she breathed out, her mind began to clear.
“You brought me dirt?” she whispered. Henry was still a strange boy who said and did strange things.
He nodded, holding her protectively in his arms. “From Ireland. So you could stand on soil from the Old Country, like your mam wanted for you.” His face reddened. “And I mixed it with soil from my family’s Old Country. So we could join our histories and have a new beginning based on the old foundations.”
Spindle Page 23
