Thornwood by Leah Cypess (read after .txt) 📕

was pulling the sun down, swallowing its golden light. I wrapped my arms around my body as the air got colder, wedging myself against the side of the chimney, which was protection from the wind if nothing else. The stones weren’t warm; there was no fire burning below. Whoever had the job of maintaining it must be in the distant village—no, they must be dead by now; they had lived their lives centuries ago, on the other side of the forest, in an entirely different world.

But there had to be a passage in the woods somewhere. A path between the two worlds that Varian had walked along. That we could also walk along, if we could only find it.

There is no other way, the fairy had said. Whatever path she had opened, it must already be gone, swallowed by the thorns.

But if she could open one, couldn’t she open another?

Had I been bargaining for the wrong thing?

The sun dipped out of sight, leaving the sky a drifting mass of orange and pink clouds. I felt tears sliding down my cheeks, and since there was no one to see me, I made no effort to hold them back or even to wipe them away. They didn’t stop until my eyelids slowly drooped shut over them.

I spun and spun, pedaled and pulled. I fed thorn branches into the spinning wheel, and the shiny black strands of Rosalin’s hair came out around the bobbin.

“What are you doing?” My mother’s face appeared in fragmented flashes behind the whirring wheel. “Give your sister back her hair!”

“She’ll never forgive you for this,” Varian said behind me. “But she has me now. She doesn’t need you.”

I wanted to turn and face him, but I couldn’t stop spinning. He grabbed my hair and yanked, and I screamed and—

“Ouch!” Rosalin said. “Wake up, Briony!”

I jerked awake and yanked my hair free. At the same moment, I whirled and punched. Rosalin blocked the blow with the ease of long practice and grabbed my wrist.

“You have to come with us,” she said. “There’s something strange going on.”

“Just one thing?” I managed to say. I forced my eyes all the way open. The moon was a white circle in the sky, casting enough light over the roof for me to see Rosalin crouched next to me. Varian was standing farther back. He had changed into fine hose and a velvet doublet.

My head felt like it was wrapped in fog, and my body was aching and cold. When I tried to stretch my legs, my calves spasmed with pain. “What— When— How did you find me?”

“Your place card,” Rosalin explained, “said you were on the roof.”

“My what?”

She sighed. “Come with us and you’ll see.”

The way down from the roof, it turned out, was by a ladder that led to a balcony. The ladder was covered with thorn branches, but Varian slashed through them. He continued to chop them with one hand as he lowered himself off the roof. He landed on the balcony, whirled, and swung his sword in a wide arc, slicing through a jumble of grasping branches.

He was getting a lot better with his sword. I guess that’s the benefit of intense practice while being attacked by evil trees.

Rosalin climbed down gingerly, hampered by her billowing skirt. When she stepped on her hem, she instinctively reached down to lift it, lost her balance, and tumbled straight into Varian’s arms.

They both froze, so completely that for a moment I wondered if the spell had hit again and somehow turned them into statues.

Then Varian said in a low whisper, “Rosalin. I never should have lied to you.”

Her lips parted, but she said nothing.

A thorn pricked my ankle, and I shrieked and jumped away. Varian and Rosalin both looked up.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, “but I need to get down, too.”

Varian obligingly hacked some branches away, and I jumped. I managed not to trip on my hem and fall into anyone’s arms. Instead, I twisted my ankle when I landed on it, which made me stagger toward the balcony’s railing and forced Varian to slice through some branches before their thorns could reach me.

“Are you all right?” he said.

I nodded. I felt a twinge in my ankle, but I could tell it wasn’t serious.

Varian lunged forward and chopped through another set of branches while Rosalin and I hurried inside. Then he backed through the balcony doors and kicked them shut.

We found ourselves in an abandoned bedroom: chests of clothes stood open, a few pieces of jewelry were strewn on the bed, and two mismatched shoes had been flung into a corner. Someone else who had packed and gotten out before the spell hit and had lived their entire life hundreds of years ago, safe from fairies and their schemes.

As soon as Varian shut the door, Rosalin turned and led us out of the room.

I kind of hoped the two of them would hold hands while we walked, but I wasn’t really surprised when they didn’t. I knew my sister, and I knew she held grudges.

But I also had a feeling she would forgive Varian eventually, just like she always ended up forgiving me.

I would have to find a moment to tell Varian that.

“Where are we going?” I said, hurrying after them.

“To the ball,” Rosalin said.

“The what?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

I stopped. “I can’t go to a ball.”

“I’m not in the mood, either,” Rosalin said. “But we don’t have a choice. Also, there’s food there.”

“I need to get Edwin,” I said.

She blinked. “Didn’t my fairy godmother say she was going to keep him safe?”

“Yes, and she certainly seems reliable.”

“She can’t lie,” Varian said. “Not if she made a bargain. Didn’t you spin for her in return?”

“Um…” I tried to recall the exact sequence of events that had led to me spinning, the fairy taking Edwin, and my flight over the endless Thornwood. “I think so. Sort of.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m worried about