Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

was one of the seven threads too. He was a person. "Seven people," Tessa said. "That's what the Norn said. Gray Lily stole seven threads. Seven lives. And they have to be returned. Or else ..."
    "Or else?" Will prompted.
    Tessa rubbed her eyes. "Or else my world will fall apart. It sounds crazy. But it's true."
    Will came to stand before her. When he spoke, his face was grave. "I believe it. What the witch has done here is foul and unnatural. No wonder it wreaks havoc with nature. This world may appear familiar, even beautiful, but make no mistake: it is a prison. It is not my home." He looked away, as if trying to find the right words. "It is like the bubble of glass in your bedchamber."
    Tessa frowned. "Bubble of glass? Oh. The snow globe."
    Will was watching her. "Gray Lily's spell must be broken, and the threads returned. That is why you are here, Mistress Brody, is it not? To fix things."
    Tessa searched for some flicker of confidence inside herself. It wasn't there. "I'm lost, Will," she replied. "I have no idea what to do."
    "You must get dry and eat," he said. At the hearth Will fed bits of straw and bark to the embers until a small, guttering flame sprang to life. Soon he had the fire burning steadily, heaped with split logs from a huge pile in the corner. Tessa was grateful for the crackling warmth and light. She could see steam rising from their wet clothes in the cool air.
    From the fire they lit thick stubs of candles that made small, trembling lights flicker over the gloomy stone walls. Tessa shook her head wonderingly. She could hardly believe it; she was in a medieval castle. She listened to the rain and the keening wind whistling through the windows. High overhead, somewhere in the dark recesses, she could hear the flap and coo of birds.
    "There may be dry clothes upstairs," said Will. "Come."
    He led her up the spiral stairs again, and this time they came to a set of spacious adjoining rooms laid out like wedges of a circle.
    In one of the rooms was a tall wooden wardrobe that, when opened, gave off the dry, pleasant fragrance of a flowery herb. Lavender, Tessa thought. Inside hung dresses on pegs. In the dim light Tessa could see the rich fabric of long gowns, sashes and veils. Velvet headpieces that looked like small caps were adorned with tiny pearls. Jeweled buckles and brooches sat on a small shelf above.
    "I can't," she said.
    "Please." Will dismissed her questioning glance with a brief smile. "Take whatever you desire." With that he left.
    Tessa held her candle higher and peered into the wardrobe. She found a thin shift of what felt like soft linen. Tessa peeled off her sodden clothes and gratefully slipped it on. She also discovered a less ornate dress buried in the back of the wardrobe. It was made of deep blue velvet, and its fitted bodice was stitched with golden thread in a delicate pattern of vines and flowers. The dress fit her but was snug in the waist and the bust, with a neckline cut low and square across her breasts. It was also a little short, Tessa realized; the heavy, flared skirt fell only to her ankles. It was probably just as well. She felt awkward enough without tripping over her own clothes.
    She unbraided her hair and fingered it loosely over her shoulders so the dark, wavy tendrils could dry. She smiled when she saw the pig bracelet on her wrist. It was such a silly little thing, but it made her think of home, of Opal and her father. She wondered suddenly if she would ever see them again.
    "Cut it out, Brody," she said, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. She looked around for some shoes. In the bottom of the wardrobe were small embroidered slippers with tiny heels, but they never would have fit her, so Tessa walked back to the great hall in her bare feet, stepping quickly on the icy-cold stone of the castle hallways.
    She thought she heard Will catch his breath, but he said nothing as he watched her walk toward him. He stared at her as if he had never seen her before, and made no move to come closer.
    "What's wrong?" said Tessa. She tugged the neckline of the dress a little higher. She probably looked ridiculous.
    "Nothing." Will nodded. "You are beautiful." But somehow the compliment sounded cool and detached, as was his formal bow. "You do Hartescross a great honor, mistress." He turned away. "I'm sorry you see it in such a state. Usually this hall is ablaze with warmth and color. And noise," he added ruefully as his voice echoed through the damp darkness