Of Thorn and Thread

by Chanda Hahn

  I was protecting him and his men, or that’s what I tried to tell myself.

  Pulling the spindle out of my pocket, I tied one end of the golden string to a thick branch of evergreen.

  “Ready, Basa?” I called out to the basajaun. He seemed keen on his new nickname. “You don’t have to come with me.”

  From the shadows of the forest, the basajaun came out to stand by my side. My faithful companion, he kind of reminded me of farmer Brighton’s old sheepdog.

  His determination was strong, and I was grateful for his loyalty to me.

  “Okay, let’s go.” I waved my hand onward and approached the first thicket of thorns. I held the spindle out in front of me, and the thorns retreated, slithering and slinking away from the spindle. Unwinding the golden thread as we walked, we made it twenty feet before they moved in again, closing around us.

  I let out a deep breath and swung the spindle in another direction and watched the thorns withdraw, as if it sensed the power within the spindle I held. Every twenty feet, I would wrap the string around a solid branch and continue our trek.

  Basa let out a warning, and I turned as a sneaky branch tried to reach for me. I released my staff with the click of a button and whacked at the branch, and it retreated into the brush.

  “Thanks,” I breathed out. The thorns may not have been poisonous to me, but it didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous.

  Basa’s thoughts were silent. He had a soothing, calming way about him. The two of us worked through the maze of thorns, a few times accidentally doubling back and crossing my own string.

  “Well, that’s the wrong way.” I made the course change and headed back, trying to work my way north. The spindle hummed, and I watched as the golden string pulsed when I held it in a certain direction. “There. We must be getting close.”

  Our pace picked up, and I used the spindle like a compass, its golden thread pulsing faster, the spindle itself forcing the other thorns back. Until the spindle shook right out of my hands and I dropped it.

  The attack was immediate and came from all sides.

  Thwack! Thwack!

  I swatted them away with my staff, but there were too many. Basa used his axe to clear a path while I blocked the attacks from our rear. We had made it to a clearing, and the thorns didn’t seem as thick, or as mobile.

  “This is crazy,” I muttered, wiping the sweat from my brow. “How much farther?”

  Basa pointed up the mountain. From this distance, the palace was just a speck, but it was built into a cliff, hundreds of feet above us. The thorns inched their way up the side, but were unable to breach the mountain wall over forty or fifty feet.

  “They’ve reached their limit and connection to the ley line. What’s below us is stone, not earth,” I said, feeling relieved. “Which means we’re close to the source.”

  With renewed determination, I set out toward the thicket, hoping to fight and retrace my steps to get my spindle. A stabbing pain radiated from my ankle as a stray branch wrapped around my right foot. With its quick tug, I fell backward, and my head connected to the hard packed earth. Stars filed my vision, and the impact momentarily stunned me.

  Rolling over, I dug my fingers into the earth as the vines dragged me along the ground.

  “Basa,” I screamed, and the basajaun ran after me. He lunged, the great golden beast flying in the air, his thick hand reaching for me. I grasped his finger, and then it slipped from mine as I was yanked deep into a deadly thicket and out of his reach.

  Basa’s roar filled the air as I was pulled down a hole into darkness, deep into the earth.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I landed with a thud on cold, dark soil. The hole I fell through was quickly covered by thorns, and the sunlight choked out so only the smallest ray remained. The dust particles dancing in the beam like miniscule fairies fluttering about was the only beautiful thing about the dark pit.

  “You’re strong,” a voice whispered to me from the darkness. “I can feel power running through your veins.”

  The breathiness of the speaker made it impossible to tell if they were male, female, or something else entirely.

  Muffled steps drew near, and a figure in a dark cloak stepped near the ray of light, their outline illuminated in the contrast.

  “You made it far enough to reach me. I applaud your determination and your strength. So I will take pity on you and let you live, like I did the other one.”

  “You mean Liam,” I breathed out.

  The stranger shrugged. “I know not his name. Only that he was determined to stop me, and I can’t have that. Not when I’m so close.”

  “So close to what?”

  The person leaned forward just enough so I could see the corner of a feminine mouth lift in a smile. “Revenge,” she said.

  “Why do you wish to destroy the kingdom of Rya?”

  A high-pitched laugh followed. “The kingdom of Rya isn’t worth saving. Sometimes evil must be struck down so that hope has a chance of being reborn from the ashes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Vengeance, dear girl. I am here to right the scales of justice for a wrong committed.”

  “What wrong?” I watched the speaker, her height, her way of walking as she moved through the small pit.

  “The king of Rya took everything from me, and so I have sworn to take what is most important to him.”

  “His throne?” I asked, standing up and turning to keep the woman in my sights.

  Her manic laugh filled the air. “No, his child.”

  “The king of Rya has no heirs,” I stated.

  “Lies. I know there was one. The king has hidden the babe from me, but I will find it. I won’t stop until I’ve taken it from the king.”

  “I know of you. I know of the attack and what the king did to your people, but spilling innocent blood won’t solve anything. It won’t bring them back.”

  “You know nothing.” Her voice shook with anger, her pacing became frantic. “A life for a life. They hid the child from me, but I will find it and kill it.”

  “Please, I beg of you, stop what you’re doing. Too many innocents have died already from your curse.”

  Her pale hand reached up to cup the ray of light, its glow making it seem like her hand captured the light within. “And yet it isn’t enough.” Her head cocked to one side as if she were momentarily distracted. “Yes, the time has come. I’ve delayed long enough.”

  “Wait,” I called out, desperately trying to delay her while I thought of a way out. “Revenge doesn’t have to be the answer.”

  “I’ve been locked away for so long that my hatred consumed my dreams. All I can think about is revenge.”

  She sounded stark raving mad.

  “What if I could help you find a better purpose? Together we can find the truth. If you would but let me—”

  The woman waved her hand at me. “You’re becoming a bit of a nuisance. I tire of you.”

  The ground trembled, and the earth cracked and crumbled around me. The thorns retreated, and the hole I fell through was visible again. If only I could have reached it. Limping, I raced for the wall and tried to climb, digging my fingers into the dirt and roots, pulling myself up.

  “You do have fire. This will delay my plans once more, but I can’t have you getting in my way.”

  A flash of light surrounded me, paralyzing me. Fire ran through my bones and I felt pulled and stretched. I opened my mouth to scream, but it was cut off.

  Sunlight burned my eyelids, the fire in my body faded to a dull ache. Opening my eyes, I was met by a clear sky full of foliage.

  Groaning, I rolled over and sat up. The remains of a wax circle lay near my head. I awoke back in the fairy circle near our home. Had I really traveled hundreds of miles in an instant, or was it all a dream?

  No, it couldn’t be a dream. My ankle had deep puncture wounds, evidence of the firethorn attack.

  Glancing around the glade, I felt the frustration build up within
me. “No,” I yelled, slapping my hands onto the ground. “This isn’t fair!” I brushed off my skirt and was at a loss for what to do now. With a flash of a madwoman’s hand, I was right back where I started. I didn’t know what to do or where to go, except home.

  I stood up and began the slow trek back to the tower and tried to organize my thoughts. How did I explain my sudden disappearance to Mother, or for that matter, my sudden return? She had specifically forbidden me from going to Rya, and I had done absolutely nothing to help Liam in his quest to end the blight. In fact, all I had accomplished by my presence was to delay him and cause him problems. Even when I figured out that the blight was another vengeful sorceress, I still didn’t have a way to stop her. I was nowhere near powerful enough to be of help.

  I had returned a failure.

  When I saw the silhouette of our tower, I felt a moment of dread. I slowed my steps and took my time limping the rest of the way home. When I came to the threshold, I paused, gazing at the straw mat on our stoop, the old wood door painted with symbols of health and healing, and the iron latch that had worn down from years of use. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, the smell of home hit me: the wood oil we used on the floor, the faint smell of herbs and potions that always hung in the air from our potions room, and the faint crackling of the fire.

  Time had stood still. I had been gone for weeks and discovered so much about myself. I felt different, my world had changed, and yet here it hadn’t.

  It was like a dream. I moved to the dining room table and picked up an apple from the bowl.

  A flutter of wings followed, and a crow flew in through an open window. A trickle of power rushed over my skin as Maeve transformed and came to stand near me. Her internal questions prickled at my mind, but she was doing her best to squelch them. She moved around the table to be across from me and placed her palms on the tabletop, looking me dead in the eye.

  Maeve stared at me unblinking, the corner of her mouth turned down. “You’re back already. What happened?”

  The back door slammed open with a thud. Rhea came in, her hair a mess, her apron covered with soot from the forge.

  “You’re back,” Rhea breathed out, wiping her face with the back of her hand, smearing more soot across her cheek. “We’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?”

  That simple question snapped me back to reality, and I slumped into the wooden chair at the table. I stared at my hands and fingernails, still coated with dirt, proof that it wasn’t a dream.

  “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully, and buried my face into my hands.

  Over the next few candle marks, I told my story. Neither Rhea nor Maeve judged me. They sat and listened. Rhea filling up my cup with my favorite lavender tea while the fire in the fireplace slowly died down. A chill filled the room, but no one moved to add another log, as they were so enthralled with my tale.

  Maeve kept interjecting with wry comments. “Liam, is that his name?” she teased. “I would have pegged him for a Nolan.”

  “Not now,” Rhea said. “Can’t you see she’s confused.”

  “How am I supposed to know? I’m not the one who reads minds.”

  “It’s fine,” I told Rhea. “She’s only trying to lighten the mood.”

  “Is it working?” Maeve asked, hopefully.

  “No.”

  “Drat.” She snapped her fingers.

  “What are you going to do now?” Rhea asked. “It’s not like you can get back there in time to help. My spelled traveling bracelet broke, and it will take many moons to create another one.”

  “I don’t know.” I looked down at my hands cupped around my now lukewarm tea. The teacup had a pattern of thorns and roses around the edge. Another reminder of my failure to help Liam. “I don’t suppose Mother would use her magic to send me back?”

  Maeve shook her head. “I wouldn’t mention it if I were you. She’s quite in the mood right now.” She looked out the window at the setting sun. “And will be back any minute.”

  Rhea added, “Plus, you know, using magic like that would leave her in a weakened state. She’d be vulnerable for days, and it would take quite a while to recover.”

  “And I doubt she will want to help me save the kingdom of Rya.”

  Rhea took a sip of her tea. “Mmm, that too.”

  “But I wonder what it is that set her off about Rya,” I said.

  “You should ask her right now.” Maeve grinned, her eyes flicking toward the door.

  Mother Eville stood in the doorway, a wicker basket filled with lavender and mandrake in her arms.

  I stood, my chair scraping across the stone floor as I hastily straightened my clothes to make myself presentable. Mother eyed me from head to toe, her lips pressed together, her emotions hidden.

  “You’ve returned . . . unharmed,” she questioned, and one dark eyebrow rose.

  “Y-yes,” I stammered. “I’m fine, but there’s a problem, a sorceress and—”

  You’re in so much trouble, Maeve smirked at me.

  “Good. Then see to your chores,” Mother ordered.

  “Wait, I have to talk to you. They need help. Our help.”

  Mother shook her head. “No, we will discuss this no further. You will not go back to Rya . . . ever.” She removed her cloak, hung it on a peg by the door, and brushed past us into her drying room, the door slamming behind her.

  “That was anticlimactic.” Maeve sighed, drumming her fingers on the table. “I expected yelling, death threats, and curses.”

  “That’s a weekly occurrence for when you disobey,” Rhea said. “This is Aura. She never gets in trouble.”

  Maeve shrugged. “Sorry, it’s in my blood, mischief and mayhem.”

  “Now what are you going to do?” Rhea glanced at me.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  Sleep wouldn’t come. Night after night, I struggled to rest. Each of my dreams filled with nightmares about escaping the fog, the onwae attack; thorn branches crawled up and over me, wrapping around my throat and choking me. I would wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath.

  Worry plagued my days, and I often froze during my chores and stared north, hoping, praying that Liam was all right. Did he worry about me like I worried about him? Was Devin okay?

  I lost my appetite and tried to pretend to eat, but instead stirred my dinner with my spoon.

  Hack brushed against my leg under the table in solace, but I barely noticed. It was Mother who watched me closely, monitored my moods, her brows furrowing in worry, her frown growing each day.

  A week went by, and I barely recognized the person in the mirror. Dark circles hung under my eyes, my face looked sallow, and my dress fit loose.

  Rhea took me aside and chastised me.

  “Snap out of it, Aura.” She gave me a hard shake. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  “You don’t know that. I don’t know that.” I finally let the fear and turmoil I had been hiding rise to the surface. “The blasted mirror is only showing that cursed fog. My friends could be in danger. Liam could be hurt.”

  “For all you know, they could be dead,” Rhea hissed. “And the kingdom already lost.”

  “Don’t!” I yelled. “Don’t you say such things.” Rhea winced and grabbed her head. My mental anguish thrust upon her unwillingly. “Sorry.” I reached out to touch her to remove the pain, but she avoided my touch.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Rhea said.

  “But there is. I mean, I have to try.”

  “No, Aura. That’s not your gifting. You can barely survive going into town without having a breakdown. I spoke with Eden. She told me how you reacted after one day in the city. And you want to walk into the middle of a war between an enraged mage and the human king of Rya? It would be your undoing. I don’t care how much shield magic your knight has. It wouldn’t be enough.” Rhea walked forward and placed her palms on my cheeks. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “But Rhea,” I sobbed, my heart brea
king. “Without Liam in my life, I’m already lost. I feel the emptiness here.” I touched my chest. “He gives me hope. Hope that I can do something great before I spiral out of control.”

  Rhea pulled me into a hug, her arms, reassuring. “I only hope to fall in love that hard one day.” She pulled back and wiped at my tears. “Does he feel the same way about you?”

  “I think so.”

  She gave me a sideways glance. “How can you not know what he is thinking?”

  I wiped at my tears and smiled. “He is really good at hiding his thoughts from me.”

  “Lucky guy.” She chucked me under the chin. “And lucky you. I will try to make another travelling charm. It will take a few weeks, but I will work through the night if I have to. Just don’t tell Mother.”

  “Thank you!” I tacked Rhea in another hug.

  “Maybe all will not be lost by the time you return. He could still be alive.”

  It was those words that gave me hope and haunted me that night.

  Sitting up in bed, I stared around at my sparse bedroom and the two empty beds that once belonged to Eden and Rosalie. Fingering the threadbare blanket, I recalled how it was once a fashionable soft pink, thanks to Eden’s glamour. She always knew what pleased me, but glamour was not my strength, so without Eden’s warmth and magic, the room felt dark and dreary.

  Slipping on my robe, I tiptoed barefoot down the steps and to the main room, and I moved to stand in front of the mirror. Imbued with magic from touching many ley lines in different kingdoms, it was a relic that had immeasurable power, and it was Mother Eville’s most prized possession. Magic mirrors were charmed surfaces that with a casted spell, one could speak to someone else that had another mirror. A two-way device. Unless you were a sorceress like my sisters. We didn’t need mirrors, for any reflective surface would suffice.

  Except for the mirror in our household. It was finicky, and moody. This one solely served my mother, and would often need to be coaxed. I’d frequently come downstairs to see her speaking to the mirror as if it were an actual person, begging it to cooperate and show her certain royals. We never figured out how to get the mirror to work for us like that, so we stuck to our little compacts or small handheld mirrors.