Briar stood. She wants me to go to her. It’s not the boys she wants; it’s me. With hours to go until Briar turned seventeen, Isodora could still use her to break the curse. Briar started walking to the road to meet Henry and the wagon. Now she understood why Aurora was powerless to stay away from the spindle. Isodora could be very persuasive.
Soon, the glow of a swinging lantern cut eerily through the fog. The disembodied form turned into legs, then the thick body of a horse, and then the welcome sight of Henry at the reins on his da’s wagon. Behind him, more points of light bobbed through the dark as more of the valley folk arrived to help. As they walked closer, Briar realized they formed a line and were slowly, methodically making their way through the tall grasses and undergrowth.
Henry stopped in front of Briar. “What are you doing on the road?” He hopped down from the wagon.
She swallowed hard. “I know where the boys are. I know where she wants me to go.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Briar rubbed her temples, trying to halt her growing headache and dread. She thought she’d spared her family another heartache, but it was not to be. This terrible ordeal was not over, but it would be tonight.
“Isodora took them to the mill.” Briar heard her voice rise in panic. “She brought the boys to the spindle so I would go to her.”
Henry blocked Briar’s path. “No, let’s think about this first. You can’t meet her on your own. We should wait until the others come back.” The flickering glow from the lantern warmed Henry’s face and danced in his eyes, but his set jaw told Briar he didn’t want her to run off alone to save the boys.
Briar shook her head. “No, they’ll try to talk me out of it.”
“And they’d be right. Briar, they can do things we can’t.” Henry looked angry. “Isodora wants you dead.”
“I’m not afraid. I thought I was going to die before. I was ready to die. But I’m alive for a reason. It’s not fair for the boys to be caught up in Isodora’s schemes.”
He took a deep breath, stared out into the forest. “It isn’t fair for you to be caught up in this, either. I should go and get the boys out.”
“Can we talk about this in the wagon? Fanny and Prudence can find us later and try to talk me out of it, but we need to move now.”
He rubbed the tension in the back of his neck. “Let’s go.”
For being such a warm day, the weather had taken a quick turn to cold. Briar climbed up into the wagon with a boost from Henry. The breeze blew harder, as if trying to snatch away the breath she had finally regained. It was refreshing to take in a crisp breath after feeling like she was on fire and breathing in embers earlier. But her arms complained, rising up in gooseflesh.
Henry settled beside her, his leg touching hers and his body blocking some of the wind.
“Ready?” He reached for her hand.
Briar welcomed his touch. She was still a bit shaky and could use some of his steadiness. What would they face when they got to the mill? Had Isodora hurt the boys? Briar squeezed Henry’s hand before he let go to hold the reins.
The horses clip-clopped their way down the road, their hoof beats muffled by the fog, adding to the dreamlike atmosphere. If people were calling out for the boys, the fog was pocketing their voices before they reached her ears.
“It’s good the horses know this route so well,” Henry said. “I can’t even tell where we are. If I had to lead them we’d be stuck in the brambles by now.” Henry continued talking, trying to keep Briar’s mind off the trouble they were about to face.
“I’m sorry, Briar,” Henry said again.
“Stop apologizing. It’s Isodora. You were trying to end this for your family and for anyone else she would target. You saw something evil and you tried to destroy it. You didn’t create the spindle. Isodora did.”
He squeezed her hand. “We will end this.” He clicked his tongue, urging the horses to trot faster.
Soon they were on the outskirts of town. The buildings materialized out of the fog as if from nowhere. Few lights were shining in the windows at this time of night, so the town was mostly dark shadows as the carriage light passed by, lighting up the fog. The street lamps were mere points of light, but the closer they rode to the mill the dimmer the lights and the more shadowy the buildings.
“I’ll go in and get the boys out to you,” Henry said, his voice like steel. “Once you put them in the carriage, head straight for home. Give the horses their head and they’ll take you home to my folks. Don’t wait for me, I’ll be fine. It’s not me she wants.”
“Henry, I think that’s the point. She won’t let you have the boys. If I don’t go in, she could hurt them.” Henry couldn’t be the sacrifice. Isodora didn’t want Henry. She wanted Briar. They both knew it.
“Whoa,” Henry said, stopping the horses. He looped the reins on the wagon. “Briar, do you see that?”