Her mouth went dry. “Yes.”
They were parked in front of the gates to the mill yard, but you wouldn’t know it from what blocked their way. Thick, thorny vines had sprung up out of the sandy ground and had wound their way around the iron, barring anyone from getting near the gate, let alone the lock. The vines creaked and groaned as they continued to grow thicker and Briar watched in fascinated horror. What were they going to do?
Henry hopped down and came around the other side to help Briar down. “You okay? Legs still fine?”
Briar bounced a little to prove to him she could do whatever was called for tonight.
“Does Miss Olive keep an ax?” Henry asked.
She nodded and they rushed down the street to the boardinghouse. Briar knocked gently, not wanting to wake up the whole house. Miss Olive opened the door like she’d been waiting.
“What do you need?” she whispered.
“An ax,” Henry said.
“Stay right here.” Miss Olive shut the door. She was back moments later with her overcoat and an ax. “Nice to see you well, Briar,” she said. “The girls were worried.”
“Thanks. No need to come with us,” said Briar. “We’ll bring the ax back in the morning.”
Miss Olive responded by leading the march to the mill, carrying the ax herself. “I’ve been expecting something to happen ever since this fog rolled in. You two care to share with me what you are doing in town in the middle of the night?”
“I need to get inside the mill,” Briar said.
“And the ax is to break the lock?”
Briar shook her head and pointed.
Miss Olive stopped and silently took in the briars, which had grown twice over in the short time they’d been gone. They were taller and thicker and the thorns sharper.
“Oh my,” she said. “I didn’t expect that.” She handed Henry the ax and then marched up to examine the briars. They seemed to shy away from her, pulling back where she drew close but not letting her pass.
Some of Briar’s bravado faltered at seeing Isodora’s magic at work. Alive and responsive, the briars were terrifying. This is not going to be easy.
Thwack. Thwack. Henry began chopping at the vine.
The sounds were muffled thumps in the thick fog. With every chink he made in one part of the vine, two others would spring up in its place, making the area he was trying to cut through thicker than when he started.
“It’s enchanted. We’re only making it worse,” Henry said. He dropped his ax and looked at Briar with sorrowful eyes. “I don’t know what else to do. When my elder grandfather broke through to the castle, the briars almost let him through, like they were allowing him to pass.”
“That’s because I put those briars there,” Miss Olive said. “To protect Aurora until her prince came. But I didn’t make these. These are meant to keep you out.”
Briar did a double take. “You, too?” she asked. She had been surrounded by fairies and didn’t know it. “Is there anyone else I need to know about?”
“No, dearie, just us three. Prudence is back now, is she?”
Briar nodded, searching her memory for anything in Miss Olive’s behavior that could have tipped her off. After all Briar’s mother had told her of fairies, had she known they were real?
The trio paced in front of the impenetrable wall. Henry hacked all along the gate, but found no weakness. “There’s no way in,” Henry concluded, wiping the sweat off his brow.
“But they might let someone in,” said Briar. “The person who Isodora wants to come in.” Briar tentatively pulled a vine, being careful to avoid the thorns. As soon as she touched it, the plant parted, leaving a small gap. “Me.”
“That’s it, Briar,” exclaimed Miss Olive. “Keep going.”
“I’m going with you,” Henry said.
Briar nodded and reached out her hand. Together. They would go together.
“I’ll be right behind you,” said Miss Olive.
Briar reached out again and touched the thorny vine. It trembled under her fingertips, as if it knew it was supposed to do something for her. She tugged. She pulled. But the vine remained fast. She let go of Henry’s hand to get a better grip, and when she did, she found she could easily move the branches. “It’s working,” she called out in excitement as she pushed her way into the thick of the hedge. “Stay with me, Henry.”
“Briar!” came his frantic call. He sounded so far away. “Briar, stop!”
She looked back, but all she saw was thorns and dark, twisted vines. She began to panic. “Henry? Where are you? I don’t see you.”
“The briars won’t let me in,” he said. “They only want you.”
Her breath came in little gasps. Briars. They know my name.
They only want me.
Chapter Forty-Four