Briar stood, hands on hips, staring at the bobbin covering the wooden spindle. Threads whirred up and down, up and down, so smoothly it was mesmerizing to watch. After finally solving her frame’s problem, she’d have to get it out. The spindle was too much of a menace. If the operatives had turned it into a game, it was only a matter of time before it turned deadly.
While Briar watched over her frames, she waited for the opportunity to remove the wooden spindle. Since it was firmly attached to the frame, she’d have to knock it out. And if she couldn’t knock it out, she’d sneak back in somehow and light it on fire to burn it out.
There’d be no good way to explain her broken frame to the overseer, and with his temper, she’d likely be fired, and then labeled a troublemaker. She’d never find work in a mill again.
Even knowing she was doing the right thing, her heart weighed heavy. She’d worked so hard only to have her plans unravel on her. Perhaps she could get a job as a domestic servant, but that wouldn’t make her enough money to support both her and the children. Pansy would have to get a job as a doffer to help. It was everything she didn’t want to happen, but it was the way it had to be. She couldn’t risk sacrificing the operatives’ lives for her family’s happiness.
When the overseer went to the farthest corner of the room, Briar found the discarded metal spindle and used it as a wedge against the other spindles. She might damage the machine, but she planned to pop the wooden spindle out, or break it, or… She pulled and grunted with all her might but it would. Not. Budge.
She adjusted her grip and tried pushing the metal wedge to snap it off. Not one splinter. Briar hit the spindle with all her might to no avail.
She wiggled it at the base, but it held fast. Even after all that pounding, it wasn’t a bit loose. The bell rang and the girls shut down their frames. Briar dawdled until the room had cleared out. She bent down close to examine the spindle. How am I going to remove it? She pushed then pulled, trying to see if it had a weak spot.
“Hey, what are you doing there?” called the overseer.
Briar jumped, pricking her finger on the tip of the spindle.
She whirled around, automatically putting her finger in her mouth and sucking the pinprick of blood. She turned back around and replaced the bobbin. “I was just leaving.” She scurried out of the room and ran down the stairs. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
As soon as she was outside, she spat and spat until there was no moisture left in her mouth. Her fingertip was red from her sucking and a dark red pinprick revealed the spot where she’d accidentally touched the tip of the spindle.
The others had ingested the poison, but she had sent it right into her bloodstream. She hadn’t immediately fallen asleep, though, like Aurora in the fairy tale. Or dead. Fanny was right, the curse was weak. Maybe she wouldn’t die. Maybe the tea and liniment would help her, too.
She ran for the boardinghouse, the pain in her head growing with each step.
A crowd had already gathered outside in the shade of the porch. Seemed it was still too hot to be inside.
“You look flushed, feeling okay?” asked Mim, taking a step back.
Miss Olive felt Briar’s forehead. “You are a bit warm. Any other symptoms? Mim, go get Miss Fanny.”
“She’s still here? I’ve no other symptoms, but I suspect they will show up soon.” Briar thought about the progression from headache, to fever, sore throat, to leg paralysis, then weeks of recovery… At least she hoped there would be a recovery.
Miss Olive pulled her into the shade. “What happened?”
Briar shook her head. She couldn’t tell her boardinghouse keeper that she pricked her finger on a magical spindle. Instead of calling for the doctor, they’d be sending Briar to an asylum.
“I’m here. What’s happened?” Fanny ran to Briar’s side. She felt Briar’s forehead. “Miss Olive, please find us a ride to the cottage. We need to leave as soon as possible. Mim, get me a cold cloth.”
Her orders dispatched, Fanny focused her attention on Briar. “Was it the spindle?”
Briar nodded. “It was an accident. The overseer startled me.” She rubbed her temples. The pressure was setting in, making it difficult for her to think. “They’re getting sick from that sticky substance on the spindle. The girls are licking it.”
“They what?” Fanny sounded shocked. “I thought maybe that one girl was addled in the brain. The rest followed suit?”
“It became a dare to the other girls to get by me and taste the syrup from the spindle.”
“So that is how it’s being spread.”
“Maribelle,” Briar whispered. She gripped Miss Fanny’s arms. “She lives in the shanties on the edge of town with her family. She’s only ten and she completed the dare today. Such a wee thing, it’s bound to affect her quickly. I-I made her spit and rinse her mouth.” Briar should have taken better care of the child. As much care as she would have given to Pansy.
“Miss Olive is taking care of Maribelle. Briar? Briar. Stay with me.”
Fanny’s voice was growing faint, her face dark, as if Briar was falling into a deep tunnel, falling further, falling faster, falling deeper. She couldn’t move, only fall.
Fanny felt Briar’s forehead again. “Oh dear. It’s starting.”
Chapter Thirty-Five