Fanny let out a deep breath. “Yes. One of her sisters got into trouble and she’s helping. See, you don’t have to be worried about the children. It’ll all work out.”
Briar closed her eyes. She’d seen two strange things today that she couldn’t explain. First the spindle fitting itself into her spinning frame, and now Fanny claiming to be a reallive fairy and restoring a rose petal to full bloom.
Fanny smiled and clapped once. “Why don’t we let you think on this for tonight and we’ll talk again in the morning. In case there’s something you’d like to tell me. About your interest in fairy wood—or anything else.” She left Briar gaping in the doorway while she went to round up the children for supper.
All night Briar’s attention was glued to Fanny while the children told her about the silly antics of the new animals. They’d named them all, of course, and fought over who got to visit the chicken (named Betty) in the morning to see if there was an egg. Briar studied every motion, every breath. But nothing revealed who or what Fanny claimed to be. And how did ever-practical Nanny make room for the presence of fairies in her life? She didn’t even like flowers.
“Why are you going to sleep at the same time as us?” asked Pansy. She was lying on her pallet, head cradled in her hands and watching Briar toss and turn.
“I’m tired.” Briar’s whole body was weary and she hoped sleep would take all the strangeness away for a time. She’d be better able to think things through in the morning.
“You don’t act sleepy,” said Jack.
“Sorry, I’ll settle in a minute.” Briar flipped over one last time so she could watch Fanny bustle about the cottage. A real fairy?
Once the children’s breaths relaxed into the regular pattern of sleep, Briar pulled out the whorl from her pocket, keeping it under the sheet. She ran her fingers over the carved roses. It was so smooth; someone had taken great care when carving the wood. When Fanny slipped outside, Briar peeked under the sheet to study the whorl. A faint scorch mark marred one of the roses. Briar wondered what had happened to it. Where exactly had this spindle come from?
When Fanny returned, Briar whispered, “What does it mean that you’re here now, at this time?” She was afraid to ask the question but needed to. Her mind was forming a picture she didn’t want to see. A magic spindle. A girl named Briar. A fairy. Was the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale a warning? A prophecy? A coincidence?
Fanny padded softly over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hopefully it means nothing, dearie. I’ve told you too much already. Miss Prudence will have my head if nothing comes of it and I’ve told you what I have.”
“Comes of what?”
“You tell me. Is there anything on your mind? You seem to be having trouble falling asleep.”
Briar stopped a laugh. “You think I can sleep after finding out you’re a fairy?”
Fanny shared a grin. “No, I suppose not. I wanted to tell you earlier but couldn’t risk Prudence’s wrath. She can have a temper.” Fanny pulled herself up tall, forming her expression into a pretty good impression of Nanny.
“So why did you tell me now?”
She looked intently into Briar’s eyes. “I won’t force you, dearie. But if you and I are going to share secrets, we need to share everything.”
Briar bit her lip. What would happen if she told Fanny about the spindle? The fairy would try to stop her from using it, that’s what. It didn’t seem like something Fanny would approve of, a human using a fairy tool for her own good. Briar shook her head. “I’ve nothing to say.”
“In that case, neither do I. We haven’t had any problems all these years. Miss Prudence will likely be home tomorrow. You’ll continue on as before and I can go back to where I’m supposed to be.” She patted Briar’s arm.
Briar frowned. Fanny had been saying for weeks that Prudence would likely be back soon, with nothing to show for her optimism. “But that’s just it. She only agreed to watch the children until I turn seventeen. That’s in two weeks. Will she really send them away after that if I can’t care for them?”
“Hmm. Miss Prudence is punctual about things,” Fanny said with a frown. “She’s like a clock, grinding things out. Doesn’t like change. If she said that’s what was going to happen, you can be sure it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
In the morning, Briar found Miss Fanny outside with Whitey Hoppers, the bunny. A warm glow lit up the trees and the wind blew in a sweet smell of dewy earth.
Miss Fanny straightened, putting her hands in the crook of her back, and stretched. “‘Morning. You look like a girl with something on her mind.”
Briar offered up a half smile. “There is a lot on my mind.”
“The weight of the world on your shoulders, dearie. It can weigh you down if you don’t share your burdens.” She handed Briar the bunny.