Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville Book 4)
Page 3
Mother flitted around the kitchen, like a butterfly too afraid to land or stay in one position for long. The smell of cinnamon bread filled the air, and I knew she must have requested the special baked treat from Clove, our brownie. Clove cleaned our home during the night, stoked the fires, and made sure that there was always fresh baked bread every morning. In return, she lived under our floorboards during the day because brownie’s eyes were very sensitive to the light.
Thumping came from behind me as Maeve bounded down the steps. She skidded to a halt and blurted out what I was too shy to ask. “Where’s the stiff?”
I gasped at her insult.
Mother’s brows furrowed. “He’s not a stiff. We’ve moved him to the barn. Lorn is guarding him.”
“What does he want?” Maeve asked.
“It’s none of your business,” she chastised. “Once he’s better, he’ll be on his way.”
Maeve plopped down on her chair and sighed dramatically until she saw the cinnamon bread, and her mood improved.
Rhea and Honor came down next. Rhea was deep in thought, scribbling in her journal, and Honor cast a wary look around the room. As soon as Honor saw Lorn’s absence from the kitchen, she excused herself to go out to the barn to be with him.
“How come she gets to go out there, but not us?” Maeve pouted.
Mother gave a cross look. “Because Honor’s training is under Lorn’s purview, and she is the only one I’ll allow near the stranger.”
Rhea’s quill scratched along the page in her journal as she answered, “That’s because Honor secretly knows how to kill someone in a hundred different ways.”
“Not true,” Maeve countered.
Rhea paused her writing and looked up. “‘Tis.”
“Aura?” Maeve looked to me for confirmation.
“I . . . uh. I don’t know. I can’t read Honor,” I lied. “Nor do I want to,” I added under my breath.
Maeve scooted her chair closer to mine and cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered conspiratorially. “Well, you probably already know all the details about the man in our barn. So spill.”
Under normal circumstances, I would say yes. A person’s thoughts would be so loud and unguarded that I could easily pluck their deepest secrets from them, but the stranger’s were eerily silent. Even growing up in a household full of eight women, it was a constant buzz of incoming feelings, thoughts, and bursts of colors from their emotions. But over the years, I learned slowly to filter them out at will. Except for Mother’s. I often would try to read her mind, and for my trouble would end up with a migraine. Lorn always knew when I was reading his thoughts or targeting him. He would grin and purposely think of odd images or thoughts as silent jokes until I stopped trying and avoided him on purpose.
Mother sat down at the table and cleared her throat. “Let us give thanks.”
We bowed our head and prayed over our meal. I kept my eyes open, and Rhea recited our blessing. Mother was staring out the window toward the barn. She swallowed, and I got a flash of blue paired with her expression. Worry.
I took a slice of bread, dropped it on my chipped plate, and picked up the butter knife. “Maybe you wouldn’t worry so much,” I gazed at my mother knowingly, “if you let me near him. You know I could figure out why he’s here.”
“No,” she said sharply. “You will do no such thing.”
“Why not?” Maeve argued. “I think it’s a marvelous idea. Let Aura at him and she’ll crack his mind like a walnut. She’ll figure out where he’s from, his favorite food, and if he has any dastardly plans to kill us.” Her lip curled into a mischievous smile.
I dropped my knife, and it clattered on the plate. Rhea frowned. Her quill stilled, and she looked over at our mother warily. Maeve was always challenging our mother, poking her. Seeing if she could get her to show her teeth, and this morning was the same.
Our mother looked at Maeve and one solemn eyebrow rose as we waited for the repercussion. “There’s no need to trouble Aura. She’s already been through enough. If the stranger poses any threat, I will see to it he is taken care of.” Mother glanced at me and quickly averted her eyes.
In that split second, I caught what she was trying to hide.
I inhaled. “You’re going to erase his memory.”
Mother’s head snapped toward me, and her eyes narrowed for a second.
I was right.
“It doesn’t matter why he’s here. You’re afraid. Afraid of who he is and where he comes from, and because of that you’re willing to erase his memory for no reason.”
Her mouth pinched, and her voice rose with anger. “Rya is the worst of the kingdoms. They deserve whatever is coming to them. In fact, I hope they fall into war, or better yet, a plague.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why do you hate that kingdom so vehemently? Does this have to do with the missing heir to Rya?”
“Where did you hear that?” she said coolly.
“I overheard you and Lorn discussing the missing heir last night. And all this time I thought the king and queen were barren.”
“It’s a rumor. There is no heir.”
I stared at her; my eyes narrowed as I tried to dig for the truth, but I was masterfully blocked by her power.
Mother swallowed, wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin, and pushed the chair away from the table. “I’m feeling unwell. I think I will lie down for a spell.”
My fingers clenched painfully around the butter knife as I watched her retreat across the room.
“You shouldn’t have provoked her,” Rhea spoke up. “Now when she comes back, she’ll make sure our lessons are twice as hard.”
Maeve grinned. “Bring it on.”
“I overheard Lorn and Mother talking about the heir of Rya last night.”
“There’s no heir,” Rhea said.
“Or that’s what they want you to think,” Maeve chimed in. “And the heir, at this very moment, is secretly plotting to overthrow the king and queen. I bet it will end with a beheading.”
“Gross!” Rhea shook her head and went back to her book.
We ate breakfast under a cloud of heavy silence. After I cleared the table, I gathered an apple and some of Clove’s cinnamon bread. I wrapped them in a kerchief, tucked it in my skirt pocket, and headed into the workroom.
The workroom was our drying room for her herbs, and where we worked on our potions and draughts. The scent of cedar, lavender, and bergamot filled my nose, and I smiled as I passed the table. From the rafters were bundles of dried herbs, and along the walls were baskets filled with more herbs. Most of the town believed we filled our workroom with bat wings and eye of newt or cyclops’ eyelashes. But we didn’t store those here. We locked them up in the cellar.
I passed through the workroom, opened the back door, and stepped into the lean-to that was Rhea’s forge, where she practiced in alchemy and metallurgy. The fire had been cold for some days, and there were scraps of metal lying about. She must be in between projects right now. I thought back to the traveling bracelet she made and knew that one day Rhea would be famous through the known kingdoms for her magical artifacts.
I headed toward the stable, slowing down to scatter feed for the chickens. Seven scraggly hens came running toward me, squawking in greedy glee. The dried corn fell from my fingers, and before it hit the ground, a pixie swung past and stole a few kernels mid-air.
The androgenous pixie, no bigger than a monarch butterfly, with green hued skin and mischievous eyes, gave me a wave before taking a bite.
“Dah!” a gruff voice called out, as shuffling came from behind me.
I spun and laughed as Sneezewort, the hob, who tended our gardens and animals came running between us with an old broom. Sneezewort was short of stature with a round, rosy-tinged nose and long ears that tucked under his moss and twig hat. He only came up to my hip, but was loyal as they come to our family. Sneezewort used his broom as a sword and challenged the pixie as she came back to steal more feed from the chickens.
“Ow,” I cried as Sneezewort smacked me in the shoulder. I pulled his hat back and took the broom from his hand.
“Oh, thank the stars, Miss Aura,” Sneezewort grumbled. “I thought for sure I was a goner there.”
“All is fine.” I gave him a pat on the shoulder and heard the pixie’s mental cry of glee. She swept toward us, and I flung out the broom at the last second. The pixie flew right into the bristles and became entangled. A splash of pixie curse words decorated the air along with bubbles of red as she directed her thoughts at me.
“Here you go, Sneezewort.” I handed the trapped pixie to him. “Maybe since she is so hungry and is determined to steal, she would like to stay for dinner?” I winked.
Sneezewort blinked at me a few times before he caught my meaning. “Oh, yes.” He licked his freckled lips and rubbed his stomach through his brown shirt. “It’s been ages since I cooked you up your favorite pixie pie!”
“Eek!” The pixie screamed and begged for her life, promising to never steal from the Evilles again. She said a bunch more, but I grew tired and let Sneezewort take her to the far fields for release.
I dumped the rest of the feed in a pile on the ground, not really caring if pixies stole food or not. I just didn’t care for the way they were treating our family hob. Sneezewort deserved better.
I watched the barn with interest. Honor and Lorn were standing just outside, speaking in low voices. Biting my lip, I debated my options. I wanted to talk to the stranger, and the more Mother warned me away, the more I realized there was a reason.
Window is unlatched, a bored tone reached me.
Hack was coming around the stable, rubbing his back against the cedar corner.
“I can’t crawl in that way. They’ll hear me.”
True. You are pretty useless when it comes to stealth. Unlike me. He sat and licked his paws, flexing his claws.
I rolled my eyes. “Then what do you suggest?”
Hack put his paw down and he closed his eyes into half slits. A distraction.
It wasn’t a bad idea. Hack was smart. I leaned in close. “Quick, run after Sneezewort. He’s about to release a pixie. Have him bring it back here and—”
Hack purred, and I could hear his eagerness. Yess, Yess pixies are good.
“No eating!” I wagged my finger at him.
His tail flicked in anger and he looked away as if ignoring me.
“Hack,” I ground out his name in warning.
He turned, flicked his tail, and bounded off through the field. I hung back in the stable’s shadow and waited. It wasn’t long before I heard a loud cry.
“Eiyeee!” the pixie screamed as Hack chased it toward Honor and Lorn. Sneezewort was right on both of their tails with his broom, hooting and hollering, swatting both Hack and the pixie.
The commotion startled Honor and Lorn as they tried to catch Hack and save the pixie. I used the opportunity to slide the window open and hop up, the sill digging into my stomach as I went in headfirst. Gravity took hold, and I slid the rest of the way in, landing in a heap on the floor.
Quickly, I righted myself and looked around the stable. Bug was out in the field, and only Jasper, our horse, was in his stall. The other stall held the stranger. I peeked over the door and saw him on Lorn’s cot. Lorn usually stayed in the stable whenever he came to visit.
I opened the door and slipped inside, taking the stool next to the makeshift bed. The stranger was still asleep. His coloring looked better and his breathing was even. All signs he was recovering with mother’s treatment. I didn’t know how long I would have before they discovered me, so I sat and listened.
Nothing. I got nothing from him. No aura, no images, no stray thoughts.
I frowned and tentatively reached for his hand, holding it within my own.
I grimaced and waited for the onslaught of feelings to come, but again I was met with silence. Maybe it was because he was asleep? Yes, that had to be it. But even during dreams, I could sometimes catch glimpses. I was about to release his hand when I looked up into his green eyes and faltered.
The stranger was awake. He studied me, and then glanced at my hand clasped around his. I quickly dropped it.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have touched you without your permission.”
He said nothing, but stared at me strangely. “Who are you?”
“I’m Aura, and you’re in our barn.”
“Our?”
“My family’s,” I said, carefully not revealing more. “Who are you?” I returned the question.
“I’m no one of importance,” he said defensively.
I could feel the lie.
“Well, no one. Why were you found wandering in the woods? What happened to you?”
“I’m on an important quest,” he sighed and closed his eyes, dismissing me. “And I must be on my way at once. I have no time to spare for your idle chatter.”
I was aghast. I’d never before been dismissed by anyone, and with such apathy. I patted my white blonde hair and knew that it was still perfectly plaited despite my tumble through the window. Many men had complimented me on my fair skin and pale eyes that looked lilac or gray depending on my mood. I wasn’t tall and graceful, like Rosalie, or beautiful like Eden. I looked like a thin will-o’-the-wisp compared to them, but I wasn’t horrid.
But this hurt.
“Hard to do when you don’t have a horse and you’re injured. How did you get injured?”
“I was attacked a week ago. As for my horse, I don’t know. I was feverish and must have fallen off my mount, and he ran away. I implore you to please lend me another horse and help me on my way.”
“You’re awfully rude for someone close to death. If it weren’t for me, you would have perished.”
Those enchanting eyes opened and looked me over from head to toe, reaching his own conclusion on who I was. “Then I’m grateful for your assistance. But unless you can tell me how to reach the home of Lady Eville, I have no time for young, lovesick girls.”
He was a jerk. A horrid, vain jerk. No wonder my mother hated the kingdom of Rya. Especially if this is the breed of men they produced.
“I am no young, lovesick girl,” I spouted, pulling the kerchief out and shoving the bread and apple into his chest. “I thought you might be hungry since I wasn’t sure when you last ate. But maybe you would prefer if we dropped you out in the wilderness and let you forage for yourself, you pompous wad.”
He didn’t even seem the least disturbed by my show of anger. One golden eyebrow rose and then it dropped. He sat up and the blanket slid down his midsection, revealing strong tan muscles. I looked away, staring at a rusty nail in the wall.
I swallowed.
“See,” he chuffed. “The pious maiden who hopes to woo the injured soldier.”
“You’re a soldier?” I asked. “Then what business do you have here?”
His pinched lips didn’t affirm or deny. “My business is my own, and that of Lady Eville.” He stood up and gathered his leather armor that had been piled in a corner. “If you would be so kind as to lend me a horse and help me on my way, I will be forever grateful.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I snapped. “I’m not kind.” I grabbed his satchel and stormed toward the door. He wobbled after me, his hand going to his bandaged side as he gasped in pain. I slid the barn door open, relieved to see that Honor and Lorn weren’t around.
“Miss, miss,” he called after me as I quickened my pace. “My things.”
I walked across the bridge, my feet echoing along the wooden boards. Beneath me, the rumble of Traygar the troll’s breathing soothed me, knowing that he was guarding us still. I turned when I reached the other side of the bridge and watched as the stranger
followed me, pulling on his overshirt, his boots tucked over his arm, his sword hastily slung across his back.
With a satisfying grin, I tossed his satchel into the mud on the other side of the bridge, past our second ward.
“There you go. You’re on your way.” I dusted off my hands and flung my braid across my shoulder. “Go that way.” I pointed toward the town of Nihill.
He slowed next to me and gave me a curious look. “You’re an odd girl.”
Odd? I hated being called odd. I was always the odd one.
It took every ounce of my being to not curse him right there. No, wait a minute. Maybe I would. I came up next to the man, gave him a pat on the shoulder and whispered.
“Confundus.”
He blinked and looked at me in surprise, as if he were seeing me for the first time.
“Lady Eville lives far beyond the town. Go that way.” I pointed before turning and walking across the bridge, my braid swinging with each of my happy steps, glad that I had gotten rid of the problem with a spell. If lucky, he’d go into town and forget the very reason he came here.
When I got to the other side of the bridge, I turned and waggled my fingers at him. He looked down at his belongings and began a slow tread into town.
By the time I reached the barn, Lorn and Honor were running out of it in alarm.
“Where’d he go?” Lorn asked. “What happened?”
“I sent him on his way,” I said innocently. “He was looking for someone.”
“Who?” Lorn said.
I rolled my eyes. “Who do you think? But it seems like no one wanted him here, and you were terrified of us interacting with him. So I took care of it. A spell and a packed lunch, and he’s off. He’ll wander until he forgets what he was looking for and head home.”
Lorn looked across the bridge toward town. “I have a feeling he won’t easily forget, despite how powerful your magic is.”
“He will,” I said confidently. “Now, who’s hungry?”
Chapter Four
I thought Mother and Lorn would be angry with me because I made the strange man disappear without telling them, but they seemed wary, yet relieved. Three days went by and the stranger didn’t return to our doorstep. Mother spent her time in our sitting room, scrying the kingdom of Rya through the large black mirror that hung on the wall, but instead of a moving picture, it showed only fog.