It was so strange to see something alive and moving among the stillness that, for a moment, Lana couldn’t quite take it in. Then, almost as soon as it had landed, the bird took off across the hall. Deep in the shadows was a door, open just wide enough to show a flight of stone steps spiralling upwards, and the little brown bird began to flutter back and forth in the archway, chirruping loudly.
Was it talking to her?
What could it want?
Cautiously, Lana crossed the hall. Sure enough, as she neared the half-open door, the little brown bird fluttered up the flight of steps and out of sight.
Lana had an uneasy feeling about all of this: the frozen cook and kitchen boy; the uneaten food; the motionless king and queen. This was a very odd place indeed. But what if the bird really was trying to show her something important?
She stepped through the archway. The little brown bird was perched on one of the upper steps. As soon as it saw Lana it took off again, flying further up the tower.
So up the spiral staircase Lana went, round and round. Now and then she glimpsed the little brown bird ahead of her. But every time she got close, it took off again, leading her higher and higher into the tower.
Up and up she climbed, and soon her legs began to tire. Determined not to give up, she plodded on, her feet like lead. Then, finally, just when she felt her lungs were about to burst, she turned a corner to find the little brown bird perched on the handle of a tiny oak door.
The door was open, but there was rusty key in its lock.
Lana took a step closer, and the little brown bird fluttered through the doorway.
What could be inside?
Breathing heavily from the climb, and with her heart racing, Lana mounted the final step, crawled through the doorway, and found herself in a dusty room, lit by one small skylight.
In the middle of the room was a bed, and the little brown bird hovered above it, as if this was the thing it had been trying to show her.
There, lying on white linen sheets, shrouded in light, was the most beautiful girl Lana had ever seen. She was fast asleep, with one arm stretched out across the bed; on her fingertip was a single drop of blood.
Lana gasped. She recognised the scene immediately.
There was only one person this could be.
Briar Rose!
She had pricked her finger! But where was the spindle?
It was only then that Lana noticed a strange noise – a rolling and rattling, repeating over and over.
At the far side of the room, half hidden in the darkness, there was a woman sitting with her back to Lana. In front of her was a wheel, on which she was spinning thread. She was dressed in a black hooded shawl. At her feet was a jumble of silk and in her left hand was a spindle, turning slowly. That was where the noise was coming from!
As Lana watched, the little brown bird fluttered over, and perched on the woman’s shoulder.
‘Who’s there?’ The voice was thin and airy, like wind in dry reeds.
All Lana’s thoughts and feelings were suddenly drowned by a crashing wave of fear. She felt her heart racing. She moved her lips to answer, but she was so scared that no words came out.
Gradually, the woman turned. Her hair was white, but her skin was smooth like a baby’s. Her eyes were closed and her nostrils were twitching, as if she were trying to smell Lana, rather than see her. She smiled and Lana saw that there were gaps in her teeth. Then, slowly, the woman opened her eyes.
They were bright red.
Chapter Six
Down and round the stairs Lana ran, taking two, then three, then four at a time. She pelted across the hall, dodging the sleeping party guests, and bolted down the corridor to the kitchen. She sprinted past the cook and the kitchen boy, before leaping onto the table and reaching up for the top shelf of the cupboard. But she wasn’t tall enough!
Her eyes wild, she scoured the room, searching for anything that might help her. There! A shelf full of cookery books! Vaulting down, she took the thickest of them and set it down on the tabletop, then another, and another until she had made a stairway to the top cupboard.
Up she sprang, knocking cheeses left, right and centre as she crawled back up the chute, suddenly happy to be back in the cold and the dark. Round and round she crawled, spiralling slowly upwards, until she reached a tight upward bend. Then, like a spider climbing a spout, she braced her hands and feet against the smooth walls, and began to inch her way upwards.
It was exhausting work. She started to sweat, which made her hands and arms slip and slide on the walls. Soon, the only thing stopping her falling back down were the rubber soles of her shoes. She felt panic rising in her throat; how was she ever going to reach the top? The burning red eyes of the old woman flashed into her mind and Lana remembered the first part of the story – how the thirteenth fairy had ruby-red eyes. She shuddered. Somehow, no matter how exhausted she was, she had to get out. She had to get home. Taking a deep breath, she made one final scramble, determined to reach the top.
Which was when an extraordinary thing happened. With each tiny movement, Lana felt herself becoming lighter and lighter, until she seemed to be almost weightless. Soon even the gentlest leg-push propelled her upwards, as if she was an astronaut in zero-gravity, and before she knew it, she was rushing headlong up the chute!
Then, just when she felt she was speeding out of control, the tube twisted, and she began to spiral again, slowing gradually, until suddenly her head struck something hard. She gave one final push and then she was back in the supermarket, with her head poking out of the sherbet lemons tub, right in the middle of the pick ’n’ mix!
* * *
‘Dad!’
Lana rushed into her father’s arms. She was so pleased to see him! There had been no sign of him at the checkout, but she had finally found him waiting on a bench at the exit, surrounded by shopping bags, talking anxiously on his phone.
‘There you are!’ he exclaimed, hugging her tight. ‘I was just calling Mum.’
‘Panic over!’ he said into the phone. ‘She’s here! See you in a bit.’ He hung up, and his face clouded. ‘Lana, where have you been? I thought I’d lost you.’
‘I fell into a fairytale!’
‘Lana, please, I’m not in the mood for games. You gave me quite a scare, disappearing like that.’
‘It’s true! There’s a trapdoor in the pick ’n’ mix. And it leads right to Briar Rose’s castle.’
Lana’s father shook his head in mock despair. ‘Well, full marks for imagination. But you know better than to run off in a busy supermarket.’
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ protested Lana.
‘Lana, that’s enough,’ said her father firmly. ‘I said there would be a Consequence. So that means no story tonight.’
* * *
For the rest of the day, Lana was on her best behaviour. She helped put the shopping away, remembered all her pleases and thank-yous at lunchtime, and spent the afternoon tidying her room. She didn’t pester Harrison to play with her and she ate all her green beans at supper without being told. At bedtime she cleaned her teeth for two minutes, just like the dentist recommended, and put her dirty clothes into the washing basket.
The reason was, of course, that she was desperate to avoid her Consequence. As scary as her encounter with the thirteenth fairy had been, it had left her burning with curiosity. Did she really go to Briar Rose’s castle? The only way to know for sure was to hear more of the story.