“Oh, I have my ways.” Fanny winked.
Briar’s curiosity was piqued. How did a fairy travel? Via the wind, according to Briar’s mam.
“Now, you wouldn’t consider moving out to the cottage until this…this trial has passed, would you?” Fanny asked. “The children would love to have you home for longer than a speck, and you’ve only got two more working days until your birthday.”
“I’d get fired for breaking my contract if I didn’t show up for work.”
“Take special care, then. I haven’t been able to find Isodora, but she’s bound to be close and watching. She’ll be getting anxious that you haven’t pricked your finger yet. Especially after all she’s put into escaping my surveillance, finding the spindle, and then finding you. All too perfect for her to walk away from. You won’t expect her tricks, so be extra careful. If you feel weak about touching the spindle, feign illness and go home. In fact…” Fanny felt Briar’s forehead. “I think you’ve got a fever. Let’s get you home now.” She grabbed Briar’s arm and started to tug.
“Maribelle. I can’t leave her. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and in a few more days, I won’t need to be so timid around the spindle. I’ll be seventeen and can help you get it off the frame without fear of sudden death. Then you can take it back to wherever it came from.”
Later that afternoon, Maribelle was doffing as usual when a movement caught Briar’s eye. It was quick, but after years of intervening in the twins’ mischievousness, Briar could sense when a little one was about to be foolish. Briar turned her full attention to the girl. She was pushing her cart of bobbins down the aisle when, quick as anything, she pulled the bobbin off the wooden spindle and then reached out with her other hand to run a finger along the spindle.
“Maribelle, don’t!” Briar cried out, but she was too far away to be heard above the machines. Briar ran for the girl, but she wasn’t in time to stop her from licking the sticky sweetness off her finger. Shaking the startled girl, Briar yelled, “What did you do?” She pulled her kerchief from her pocket, dropping the blue silk onto the oily floor. “Spit,” she demanded, handing Maribelle the cotton handkerchief while Briar picked up the silk one.
Maribelle complied, keeping her head low. “Sorry, Briar. I know you didn’t want me near the spindle, but it was a dare. I had to do it.”
Briar bent down so she could look Maribelle straight in the eye. “What do you mean?” She used the blue silk kerchief to wipe the tears from Maribelle’s cheeks.
“The other girls dared me to do it. Said they all had, when we weren’t looking. I didn’t ’cause I didn’t want you to be angry, but today, I couldn’t help it. It’s all I’ve been thinking about and I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to know what the syrup tasted like. They all said it was the best thing they’d ever tried.”
Even though she knew the answer, Briar had to ask. “What other girls?”
“The spinner girls. It’s a game they play when you’re gone or not looking and the overseer’s in his office.”
Briar immediately shut down all her frames and dragged Maribelle to the drinking bucket. “Rinse out your mouth now. Keep rinsing till I tell you to stop.”
That had to be the connection. Sadie, foolish girl, was the first to lick the sticky residue and the first to come down with symptoms of polio. But it wasn’t polio at all. At least not for the girls in the spinning room. It probably was polio in the outside cases, like the farm boy, but for the girls who’d taken the dare to sneak past Briar to her spindle, well, those girls were reaping the curse from Sleeping Beauty. Her spindle was poisoning everyone. There was no doubt now. She had to get it out of the mill immediately.
“I’m sorry, Briar. Truly I am.”
“Rinse. Don’t you dare swallow.”
The overseer saw them and marched down the row. “Why are your frames off?” he yelled. “We can’t afford any shutdowns. There are enough still frames as it is with all you weak girls falling sick.”
“They’ll be back on in a minute, sir. Just taking care of the wee one here.”
“Another one? Is she ill?” The overseer peered at them with interest.
“Not yet,” Briar said. She hoped she’d gotten the poison out quickly enough.
Briar guided Maribelle back to the frames and threw the shipper handle. “I’ll doff for you the rest of the day,” she told the girl. “You go see Miss Olive—do you know which house is hers?”
Maribelle nodded.
“Tell her Briar sent you for some of her special tea. And you let her know if you start to feel feverish.”