Warped (Maurissa Guibord)

frightened child.
    "Not on your life," Tessa whispered.
    "Lymerer!" groaned Gray Lily. "Come to me."
    But at the edge of the clearing Tessa could see the huge man staring with horror at what was happening to his mistress. He made no move to help her. Or perhaps Gray Lily was simply unable to work his thread, to force him to do her will.
    Tessa pulled Gray Lily's thread with both hands, faster now, and watched as the woman's already-weakened form began to shrivel. Her skin wrinkled. Her body twisted and shortened. A look of torment made Gray Lily's face grow rigid, and her mouth opened wide in a gaping scream. "It's mine!" she screamed. "It's mine!"
    Tessa closed her ears to the unearthly noises from Gray Lily's widening black mouth. The gaping maw grew larger until it seemed to engulf Gray Lily's face; the lips rolled back, and it swallowed itself.
    Gray Lily was gone.
    Tessa held the purple thread, and for a moment she felt it. Felt the power of holding a life in her hands. She knew that she could do things with it. She could have control. What could a person do with power like that? Anything.
    The thought was intoxicating.
    And terrifying.
    Tessa dropped Gray Lily's thread. It twisted away from her, snaking through the dark air, then floated up into the night sky and finally disappeared.
    Hugh de Chaucy stood up. Before Tessa's eyes he seemed to straighten and grow taller. He held a hand before him and gripped it into a fist. Then he threw his head back and laughed, his milky blue eyes transformed into bright, twinkling crescents.
    "You've done it, Tessa Brody. You have released us. Thank you," Hugh said in a rich, booming voice. Before the final words left his mouth, his thread was already winding away. Hugh's body became transparent, and a gleaming crimson thread floated into the night.
    The lymerer and his dog drifted away in black coils that were nearly invisible against the dark sky. And from the woods, two other threads rose. The snake and the dragon, Tessa thought. All the threads rose higher, twisting and gliding their way free. And then Tessa understood what had happened. She'd found the first stolen thread after all.
    The old weaver, whose life had been broken by tragedy, had wanted freedom from the Norn. She had wanted control of her own life. So the first thread that Gray Lily had ever taken was her own.
    It was just as the Norn had predicted. Once the first stolen thread was returned, the others were released. Six threads returned. Only one to go.
    Tessa turned to the unicorn, and through her tears, she saw it. The pale, silvery thread of Will's life began to rise up and wind away from the beautiful creature's lifeless form. The silver thread, lit by the moonlight, looked like a ribbon of liquid mercury.
    "No!" Tessa ran forward, reached out and caught the swirling thread. Simply caught it.
    The force that pulled the thread skyward was incredibly strong. And there was pain. It wasn't the cold pain of having her own life pulled, but warmth that threatened to burn her. Tessa cried out as the heat lapped her fingers like an invisible flame. But she couldn't let go. She knew what she wanted. It was Will. She would never let go.
    "Seven threads. Seven lives."
    Tessa heard the eerie voices of the Norn break through the darkness.
    They were telling her to let go. The Norn were trying to take him. For what? To go back to his own time and die of smallpox?
    No.
    Tessa looked down at her wrist and saw the thin, frayed threads of her bracelet. The pig. Double lucky. Tessa dragged the silver thread closer. She wound it tightly around her wrist, wincing as the burning heat enclosed her skin, and finally, with shaking fingers, tied Will's thread to the bracelet.
    "Double lucky," she cried. "Please hold him." She gasped the words and then repeated them, like a chant. Or a prayer. "Double lucky. Please hold him." She stared at the worn, tattered threads between the beads. The simple bracelet was nothing, and yet what it represented was everything. And suddenly Tessa imagined what it was made of: not just threads. To her, the frayed fibers were people. Her mother. Her father. Opal. And Will. Family, friendship and love. She imagined the threads of everyone she loved and cherished. She called upon every bit of love she had ever been given and asked love to make her strong.
    She held on. She would not let go of what she loved. She would give anything to save Will. She would give herself. She would be the seventh