Thornwood by Leah Cypess (read after .txt) 📕

“There’s something else,” I said as steadily as I could, “that you all should know.”

I took a deep breath. I still wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do.

But I also wasn’t sure anymore why I was keeping this secret. Was it really to protect Rosalin? Maybe part of the reason I wasn’t talking was because as long as I was the only one who knew, I was in charge of our story. I wasn’t the ignored little sister no one mentioned, I was the one making the decisions. The one saving her sister.

The one this story was really about.

But this wasn’t a story. It wasn’t about only me, or only Rosalin, or only anyone. It was equally about every single person in it.

And who was to say that I was the one who would save us? Maybe someone else would have a better idea. Maybe they would come up with a solution. But they could only do that if they knew everything.

“It’s something else the fairy told me,” I said. My voice came out thin and small.

Silence. They were all listening, waiting. I took a deep breath, and it hurt going through my chest.

“The fairy told me how to destroy the Thornwood,” I said. “I mean, she told me one way to do it.”

“Then why,” Varian demanded, “did you not tell us before?”

My legs felt quivery, as if I were standing on a window ledge above a terrifying height. “She said the Thornwood will disappear once Rosalin dies in it.”

Varian went utterly still, his face drained of color.

Rosalin, too, stood without moving, but her expression didn’t change. Her face was grim and resolute.

Of course. She had known for years that this could end in her death. She had known long before this.

I said, “That’s not going to happen, of course. We won’t let it.”

“No,” Varian agreed. His voice was oddly low, as if he were talking to himself. “No. Not even if it’s the only way.”

“It’s not the only way,” I said. “The fairy never said it was the only way. Just that it’s one way.”

“Did she have any other suggestions?” Rosalin said.

Her voice was cool and calm, completely without expression. I wondered if I was the only one in the room who knew how terrified she was.

“We don’t need another plan,” Edwin said. “The answer is right in front of us: we accept the fairy’s bargain, and then no one has to die.”

“We’ll be trapped!” I said. My voice was shrill, but I didn’t care. “Cut off from the world for the rest of our lives!”

Edwin gave me a faintly apologetic look. “Actually, it’s looking pretty good to me in here. Lots of warm, comfortable beds, no one making me work, and now good food, too.” He grinned crookedly. “Plus, I like the company. Not at this precise second, perhaps…”

I didn’t smile back. “You can’t think that’s enough reason to stay here for the rest of your life!”

Edwin stepped away from me, his smile fading. “You only say that because you don’t know what it’s like to be cold and hungry.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Which didn’t mean I couldn’t argue.

“You won’t be cold and hungry,” I said. “We’ll find a way to make it in the world out there. We’ll combine our skills—”

Edwin gave a strangled laugh. “What skills? I’ve never been good at anything.”

“You’ve never been good at blacksmithing!” I said in exasperation. “That’s hardly anything.”

Edwin shook his head. “You don’t understand. I never wanted to be part of some grand tale. I just came here to be safe.”

And that, of course, was exactly what the fairy was offering. Safety.

“Rosalin,” I said a bit desperately. “You want to spend the rest of your life trapped here? Don’t you even want to know what the world out there is like now?”

“It’s the only way, Briony,” Rosalin said. “If we don’t put ourselves under my fairy godmother’s protection, we’re all going to die.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that.”

“You’re acting out of fear. You—”

“You’re right! I am!” Rosalin choked on a sob. “Is it so terrible that I don’t want to be in constant danger anymore? That I finally have a chance to be safe and I want to take it?”

I looked at the three of them. Edwin was staring at the tips of his shoes like he had only just realized he was wearing them. But Rosalin met my gaze with a regal tilt of her head, her eyes cool.

“This isn’t your decision, Briony,” she said.

I knew she was right. But I looked past her, at the tables scattered with leftover food and the chairs knocked over on the floor, and I knew something else.

“No,” I said, “it’s not my decision. But it’s not yours, either.”

“Fine,” Rosalin said. She crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ll take a vote. How about that?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “This decision should be made by everyone.”

“All right, then.” Rosalin cleared her throat. “All in favor of—”

“Everyone,” I said. “Everyone who’s part of this. And that includes more than just the four of us.”

Varian blinked, and Edwin’s head came up sharply. Rosalin looked completely confused.

“There are at least thirty other people in this castle,” I said. “Last time, we made a choice that affected all of them, and we didn’t even think about them.”

“We had to!” Rosalin said. “We were—”

“—scared,” I finished.

“Yes! We were! We were the ones the fairy queen was after! And there wasn’t enough time—”

“There’s time now,” I said. “Whatever we decide, everyone here will have to live with the consequences. So everyone here should get a say.”

“She’s right,” Varian said.

Edwin nodded.

Looking betrayed all over again, Rosalin crossed her arms over her chest and muttered, “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Varian smiled faintly at me. “I think,” he said, “you might adjust well to the world outside after all.”

“That will be very reassuring,” I said, “if we manage to get to the world outside.” I avoided Rosalin’s eyes as I went on. “For now, let’s