»» BOOK #2 of the X-MARKS: Shadows Series «« Valen and her friends are on the run once again. After their camp is disassembled, they take shelter in a series of traveling homes and meet hosts that will shape their journey in unexpected ways.
When...
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I sat in the chair of a spindle in Neil's shed. Heaps of wool surrounded me like clouds. Above rising sun cut through the gaps of the wood panels.
So much for resting, I thought to myself and closed my eyes for a moment too long to be called a blink anymore.
My feet ached from pushing the pedal of the spindle and my shoulder slouched from sitting all night but still the wheel spun on. I fed each piece of wool into the spindle and pulled it into the thread we needed for the fabric.
"Great work," Petra said from behind another spindle.
Petra's eyes were electrified as she inspected our progress.
"Did you hear that?" Valen said from the spindle beside me, "I think we've finally got this."
"Yeah," I said and forced smiled as I continued my work.
We were talking again. At least out of necessity.
Near to the door, Nate and Ocean handled the loom. Its wooded bars wove our strings of wool from the spindle into sturdy sheets of fabric. It did help that nan would have us help her with her loom and spindle when we were stuck inside for the winter. It didn't take us much time to get into a rhythm.
Each night we snuck into the shed next door, where the wool was stacked higher than the widows. It seemed impossible, in fact, it was impossible. But still, I continued to pass each handful of wool through the spindle and smooth it into neat strings with growing speed.
"Just one by one," Petra repeated again and again from her spindle.
As the wool wore more at my fingers, it made me wonder why I was even doing all this.
It wasn't Neils hospitality, clearly. It wasn't fear either. I could take anyone on if I had to. However small, there was something in me that made me ache for Neil. He had lost everything. Though the ache was meager, it was enough to keep the wool spinning.
We worked, and worked from the time Neil went to bed to sunrise. We did this until I looked around and the clouds of wool were just dust on the floor.
Mat rolled the spools of fabric and stacked them against the shed door wall. It lifted my tired eyes to see our work piled for us to see. Mat did do a great job, for an idiot.
Petra gathered us in the center of the shed with tears gathered again in her blue eyes. I'd have sworn Petra's eyes were made of glass. I'd never seen someone who could cry so easily, though it was touching, kind of.
"You just don't know, what you've done for Neil," she said, "For us."
"Us?" I said and stood from my spindle chair, "We really like it here, but you do know we're leaving soon?"
Petra laughed and dusted her hands on her apron, "Yes, yes I know," she said.
