The Secret World of Briar Rose(93)
A small rumble of stones caught her attention. She lunged toward the noise and dug through the pile until tufts of fur emerged from debris. Penny, once the color of caramel candy, blended far too closely with the dirt surrounding her. Her ears tucked over her snout, her eyes closed in sleep. Only Dime had awoken, barely, his dark pupils glazed in slits.
“Didn’t anyone tell you? The tea party is over,” he said. “We ran out of time.”
“I’ll carry you,” Corin said, a desperate response that spilled from her lips before logic could fill in the gaps. There was no way she could lift both Elly and the animals to safety. The entire world was collapsing, and she thought she could still carry every burden on her shoulders.
She tried holding Dime until claws scratched her fingers and she yelped in pain. Dime only responded with a hiss.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” Corin cried.
She could no longer make out words as he meowed in response. He seemed smaller now, a regular cat with no clothes or human speech. He continued pawing at Corin’s hand, trying to communicate something to her, yet hissed if she tried to move him. The cat curled in a ball next to Penny, and Corin realized they’d been nestled in a woven basket. The wood splints were frayed, but they were with each other, and that was enough. Penny never opened her eyes, and Dime refused to leave her side.
“You’re ready to go,” Corin whispered.
Resignation settled on her shoulders. She watched the void stretch across hills and blossoms turn white before disintegrating to dust. The nothingness loomed over the dollhouse, and still the animals slept in peace together. She scanned the field for the last patches of wildflowers and plucked them from withering grass. Her fingers carefully spread daisies across the basket. Her palm grazed the spot behind Dime’s ear, and from his lack of reaction, she knew it was time.
The void streamed toward the dollhouse like a river. Up close, the abyss appeared like light, clear and vivid. Carefully, she placed the basket on the white expanse and backed away. The void cradled Penny and Dime as if the basket floated on invisible water. Waves swallowed them as they disintegrated like starlight, a faint memory that existed once upon a dream.
She vowed to herself that she wouldn’t forget. Not the animals, or the cottage, or any of the seasons that disappeared before her eyes. She turned back to Elly, the one person she could count on being tethered to her forever. Panic struck when the oak tree had sank into the white fissure, and Elly was nowhere to be found.
“El?” Corin shouted. “El! Where are you?!”
Her boots stomped over chipped teacups and rotting grass. She raced through the disappearing meadow, her heart wanting to rip from her chest. Elly couldn’t be gone. Corin could make her real, as solid as flesh and bone. She clenched her eyes shut and focused on their connection. She had conjured her sister in these dreams, which meant she could do it again and keep her. Her skin, her voice, her heart. Everything Corin was so desperate to hold.
There it was, a tiny drum of a heartbeat. Slow and faint, but enough to pull Corin toward the sunflower maze behind the cottage. Her legs strained to catch up to the endless stretch of stems that continued multiplying. The sunflower stalks had grown thick and tall, blocking the little sunlight left from the broken sky. The haze of yellow turned brown and swallowed her up in dusk. But the dark could not hide Elly. They were tethered, after all, and Corin could tell when she was about to lose a piece of herself.
She found her sister curled over a pile of wilted sunflowers. Elly’s black hair looked like roots making their way back to soil. The hole in her leg had grown wider, taking over her torso, then her chest, the fading beat of her heart that never truly existed.
“El,” Corin whispered, cradling her sister.
It always came back to this. Finding Elly’s body. Not reaching her in time. There was never enough time.
Elly’s lashes fluttered as she barely opened her eyes. “Corin,” she managed to say. Her breaths came out faint and shallow. Foolish hope rose in Corin’s chest anyway.
“El. El, please. Don’t leave me.” Corin wiped tears from her face and clutched Elly’s face with wet hands. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll find Briar Rose. She’ll open a new portal. We’ll make a new world, and we’ll be safe, and happy, and everything will be okay. I promise, El. I’m never going to let you go.”
Corin thought it had been Elly trembling until her sister placed a hand on her arm, stilling her.
“I’m already gone, Corin.”
“But you don’t have to be,” she begged. “We can still be together.”
Corin clung tighter, but Elly felt too light, like a candle flame one breath away from disappearing. Her sister gave a tender squeeze to Corin’s hand.
“We had fun, but it’s time for me to rest.” Her voice was so gentle it split Corin’s heart in pieces. “You can let go now. It’s okay.”
Corin could feel her sister fading, yet something pulled Elly still, a taught string. Slow understanding washed over Corin like an ocean wave. Elly, who never had the patience for anything, had waited for her all this time.
Deep down, Corin knew this moment would come. She had evaded it for so long, distracting herself with fiery anger and self-loathing, petty arguments and desperate promises. Her avoidance had only prolonged the inevitable pain. And so, slowly, she loosened her grip. Finger by finger, each bone in her hand weighing down on Elly’s flesh, she forced herself to lift off.