TWENTY-EIGHT
The following night, Abraham returned to the maiden's tower, where he found the girl sitting at the wheeled table, spinning flax into thread. The walls were stacked with baskets of the stuff, waiting to be spun.
Before he could ask, she said, "The king is not satisfied with what I gave him this morning. He insists I must spin even more. He expects the impossible. No one could spin this much thread in a day, even with a spinning wheel."
"If you merely break the curse, I will leave you to your work, and never disturb you again," Abraham said.
She slammed her hands on the table and rose. "I know nothing of curses, unless you are one! Even if I can spin the fibres into thread, I cannot turn it into gold, no matter what the king thinks. Only you can do that. I wish you had ne
