Of Thorn and Thread

by Chanda Hahn

  As Tatiana walked down the center of the room, I was parallel with her moving toward the king, but I was keeping to the shadows.

  “Welcome, Tatiana Morningstar, to my court. It’s been years since you last graced us with your presence.” The king’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I think you know why that is, Your Majesty,” she said coolly, her eyes a steely blue. She stopped before the dais, her chin raised in defiance—but the auras coming from her were not the ones I had encountered earlier. There was no anger, rage, or hatred. Only amusement.

  Something was off.

  The king moved down the steps and offered her a bow. “The circumstances by which you were imprisoned were not by my command, but by those of another,” King Pharell answered cryptically.

  “Nevertheless, you destroyed everything I hold dear when you destroyed the fae court,” she answered as if reciting a line.

  “And you stole my child,” the king roared.

  The court gasped, and the room fell silent as their dark secrets finally came to light. Mother was right. He had finally remembered.

  Tatiana’s lips pursed in amusement. “That I did not. Though, I tried.”

  The king’s face paled, and he became flustered. “Then who did?”

  Tatiana laughed; a high-pitched tinkle filled the air. “For that answer, I would look closer to home.”

  Enthralled to have the upper hand, Tatiana twirled and looked at the tables laid with golden plates and gold-rimmed glass goblets. “Come, now. It’s been years since I’ve been here for one of your illustrious banquets. What was the last occasion? The christening of your child. The one I supposedly stole.”

  “It seems that we have both erred and are in the wrong. Please accept my humble apologies.” The king’s response was dry and insincere. “Sit, and we will discuss business after dinner.” He snapped his fingers to announce it was time. The servants appeared from behind curtains and moved to stand behind each chair. The king and queen moved to the head table, and they kept me in the shadows, near enough to heard but not be seen. They pulled the chairs out, and the guests sat, only after the king and queen had first.

  This was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. The way Tatiana moved, spoke, and even teased—this was not the same crazed woman I had met in the forest of thorns. But someone else. An imposter.

  Tatiana sat right below the king and queen’s head table in a spot reserved for the guest of honor.

  There. Down a few seats from the fae queen was the one that I had seen die in Isla. Vasili. But there was something off about him. If only my head wasn’t foggy, I could hear their thoughts.

  The servants filled the guest’s goblets with dark red wine and handed one to each of the guards. Liam was only a few chairs down from the queen and he looked uncomfortable. His eyes found mine, and I could read the sadness within. He knew something was wrong.

  Almost time.

  “A toast.” The king lifted his goblet. “To Tatiana of the Lesser Fae Court, may we find the answers we seek.”

  He drank first, followed by the queen. Glasses raised, and the room followed suit, one by one, each taking a sip. Liam caught my eye, and I carefully shook my head. He brought the glass to his lips but did not drink.

  Neither did the fae queen, I noticed.

  Dinner began with the soup course. Light chatter and the scrape of spoons across the bowls filled the air. Then came the salad course. I refilled glasses multiple times, but I watched as Tatiana only brought the spoon to her lip, but never drank, or she moved food around on her plate, but never took a bite.

  Not having been commanded to eat, I stared at the closest candelabra on the table and fixated my gaze upon it. One wick had fluttered out, and I focused my power.

  Fiergo, I whispered under my breath.

  The candlewick relit, and no one noticed. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was getting easier to use magic.

  Drink, darn you! The king was becoming impatient, which only confirmed my suspicion that he had drugged Tatiana’s food and drink with the devil’s breath.

  Dessert came, and it was more of the same. She never ate or drank a bit.

  Clever, the king thought, but not clever enough.

  The king nodded, and each servant moved to a red lantern. They pulled a silk ribbon, releasing a hidden compartment within. The lantern shifted, a flume of powder fell onto the flame and burned. Immediately an overpowering aroma filled the air.

  Devil’s breath.

  I covered my mouth and nose with the sleeve of my dress and tried my best to not breathe in anymore. All around the hall, silverware clattered to the table as the drug took its victims one by one. First their limbs became heavy, then their minds would begin to cloud over. Liam staggered and fell back into the wall before drawing his sword and attacking the closest paper lantern, knocking it from the hook and stomping on the flame. Other soldiers followed suit, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

  Tatiana slumped forward in her chair, her chin dropping toward her chest.

  The king stood, his hands held open, and he bellowed, “All that hear my voice must obey me.”

  Wide, blank eyes stared back at him. Over a hundred guests were now in a drugged state, easily controlled by the king of Rya.

  The king stepped down from the high table and moved to stand over Tatiana. He withdrew a knife and held it to her throat.

  “Now that you’re under my command, tell me how you murdered my child, or I will kill you now,” he said, seething.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Tatiana looked ill. She stood up. The chair tipped and fell to the floor with a thud. Her dress flickered in and out. The lace disappeared and was replaced by a dark blue wool. Tatiana’s white hair turned lavender as the glamour wore off, and the mermaid known as Velora stood before the king.

  “A glamour. What is this?” the king bellowed, his finger pointing at the betrayer. “That’s not Tatiana.”

  The double doors burst open, and a powerful voice filled the room.

  “No, Your Majesty. It’s but a decoy.” The real Tatiana entered, wearing head to toe black, her pale eyes glowed with power. “I knew you. This talk of peace was nothing more than a trap. The one who calls himself Allemar said you would betray me.” She pointed to Vasili and Aspen, who hadn’t been affected by the devil’s breath. Aspen moved to scoop up the drugged Velora, and he gave me a wink before heading out the side door.

  “Allemar. No, it can’t be!” King Pharell paced back and forth, distressed that his plan had backfired.

  Allemar in Vasili’s body came forward. “In the flesh, or rather someone else’s flesh.” He gestured to his taller, leaner new body he now inhabited.

  “What are you doing here?” King Pharell asked.

  “Well, since I was never paid for the deal I struck, I released the curse upon your land.” He gestured with his head toward Tatiana.

  “I never made a deal with you.” King Pharell seethed between clenched teeth.

  “No, you didn’t.” Allemar bowed his head toward the queen. “She did.”

  Queen Maris stood up and pointed a finger at him. “He lies. I did no such thing.”

  “What did you do, Maris?” the king yelled, and the two argued loudly.

  “Oh dear, this is going to get messy.” Allemar grinned and walked over to me. He placed his hand upon my forehead and whispered.

  I screamed in pain as the blood in my body felt like it was boiling.

  “W-what are you doing?” I cried out.

  “I’m evening the odds by burning the devil’s breath out of your system.” A few agonizing seconds later, it was over. I fell to my knees—in pain, but clear-headed—no longer under the influence of the hated devil’s breath. He backed away. “Good luck, and may the craziest person win.” He waved his hand and disappeared in a cloud of fog.

  “Here!” King Pharell pointed at me. “There’s my heir. Take her and be done with it.”

  Tatiana laughed. �
�Fool, I am past the point of wanting your heir. Now I just want you dead.”

  “You will pay for your betrayal.”

  Neither of them seemed to have noticed the exchange between Allemar and me.

  Tatiana’s head fell back, her eyes glowed, and she flung her fingers toward the air. The earth rumbled, and the white marble floor cracked and split as giant thorns erupted from the ground and rushed toward the king.

  Liam jumped in front of the king, his sword drawn. Faster than I had seen him attack before, he took out every barb that aimed for the king.

  One barb scraped across Liam’s face, creating a streak of red.

  King Pharell spun to me, and ordered the crowd, “Kill her. Kill the witch.” Liam and Devin stepped in front of the king, each one of them fighting back Tatiana’s deadly thorns.

  One by one, the compelled guests, armed with knives, spoons and whatever cutlery was available to them, stalked Tatiana.

  “No,” I said, my voice cracking. Getting to my feet, I stumbled as I heard hundreds of thoughts at once. I winced as I tried to focus, tried to sort the lies from the truth.

  Tatiana’s attacks turned to defense, the thorns swiping under people’s feet, the bladed barbs retracted as she focused on keeping them at a distance and not killing them. It seemed she was saving murder for the king.

  “Well, stop her,” King Pharell stormed over to me.

  “No,” I snapped. “I’m done being a puppet. You have no power over me.”

  “Is that so?” he sneered. “Well, then what about your precious Liam?”

  “Liam!” King Pharell screamed. “Draw your dagger.”

  Liam, his eyes dull, pulled the dagger from his belt.

  “Kill her.”

  “No!” I cried, and with a flick of my wrist, I flung the dagger across the room, and Liam fell to the floor without being injured.

  King Pharell snarled. “I’ll take care of you myself.” He reached for his closest guard and yanked the sword from his hand. He raised it to strike me down, but a branch wrapped around his legs, yanking him to the ground. The sword clattered to the floor.

  An attack on all fronts, one soldier made it through and slashed at Tatiana, slicing her arm. She cried out in pain and I screamed. Feeling every emotion.

  “Now, I will kill you all,” Tatiana cried out. Her hand flicked, and one thorn transfigured into a blade, and it pressed against the king’s throat.

  Yes! Do it.

  A flash of yellow. Intense joy filled my mind, and it was coming from the queen.

  A blur of black streaked through the door. Shifting magic hit me and Maeve appeared before me, her eyes wild with fear.

  “Stop her,” Maeve yelled. “Stop the witch before she brings the palace down on us.”

  The thorns had gone out of control, growing in size, busting through the windows, crawling up the side of the walls and ripping through the roof.

  Screams filled the courtyard, and I felt their terror. Part of an exterior wall collapsed outside, crushing innocents. I felt their pain, their grief and death, and I tried to block it out.

  Clutching my head, I agonized over the mental pain that was thrashing about in my mind.

  “I can’t. It hurts too much.”

  “Then I will.” Maeve turned on the crazed fae woman. “If it’s one thing I don’t back down from, it’s a fight.” Maeve cracked her knuckles and lifted her hands.

  “Ignis Fiergo.” Green flames shot from Maeve’s hands as she attacked Tatiana with mage fire.

  Sensing the attack, Tatiana pulled the surrounding thorns, creating a green shield. The thorns immune to normal fire burned under the mage’s fire.

  I felt her fear as the thorns burned. She fought back by sending more magic into the growing vines. I felt the pressure build and roll under my feet, and even more thorns ripped up from the ground. But mage fire was not easily conjured or controlled. It was made of magic, and therefore part alive. It wafted and moved like a snake and struck out at a passerby, missing, and lighting the curtain on fire.

  The mage fire didn’t stop, shifting into a fiery dragon that ripped through the main hall. It crashed through a window and came in through the north side, sweeping up to the rafters. The banners, flags, and roof caught on fire.

  “Run,” Liam cried, waving at me to go for the door.

  “We have to get the people out,” I yelled, terrified they were still under the influence of the king’s command to attack Tatiana.

  A young woman, her face streaked with soot and tears, armed with a knife, ran straight into the burning flames toward Tatiana.

  I felt her death, and I gasped.

  “No more,” I whispered. Turning, I searched for the king who was cowering behind his throne. Queen Maris had disappeared, presumably running for her life. I grabbed him by the collar and hauled him to his feet.

  “Command them to run for their lives.”

  “Not until she’s dead,” King Pharell said through gritted teeth, spit falling from his mouth.

  “Aura, I need help!” Maeve cried as she struggled to control the flames and fight off Tatiana.

  I let my anger take over. Reaching out, I touched King Pharell on the forehead, and I ripped from him his memories, his thoughts, and I dug for the truth. He screamed in pain, but I didn’t care. I dug further, not at all concerned if I destroyed his mind while doing so. What I found made me despise him all the more. What I left of him was a whimpering king, crawling on his knees, begging me to kill him.

  I took a step, and a burning beam fell, cutting off my path to Tatiana and Maeve.

  “Call back your mage fire,” I yelled.

  “I would if I could,” Maeve replied. She brushed her hand, and with a blast of wind, pushed five people out of the room, just as more of the ceiling came down. “Aura, do it. Lose control!”

  “Aura?” Tatiana heard my name, and she looked at me as if truly seeing me for the first time. “It can’t be,” she breathed. Her hand touched her heart. “You’re alive?”

  The fire dragon made a figure eight in the air and then rushed toward me.

  “No!” Tatiana cried out. She waved her hands in my direction, and a wall of thorns erupted out of the ground, flinging me out of the way. My body went through the window, colored glass shattered around me like snow. I fell onto the balcony that overlooked the cliff, my body rolling until I hit the outer wall with a crack, and everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The world was on fire. When I came to, I saw the green fire dragon burst through the roof. Spinning in an arc, it passed above me and flew over the battlement wall and down, burning the forest of thorns surrounding the castle.

  A loud groan filled the air as another section of the main hall roof collapsed. I could feel the people trapped inside, feel their pain, their terror, and it became my own.

  My fingers dug into the stone as I tried to pull myself to my feet. As I did, I looked over the outer wall and saw that not only was the castle on fire, but so was the entire forest below. Green flames flickered, creating a sickening glow across the night sky.

  This was all wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I had come to Rya to help the kingdom, but I realized the problems started with the king and queen, and the hatred and evilness had gone on for generations before them. I understood why Lorelai had chosen the path she did. Because sometimes the only way to save a kingdom from a villain was to become a villain yourself.

  “This is all your fault,” a manic voice called out to me.

  I looked up as Queen Maris stood over me. Her hair pulled from her pins, her dress ripped, and soot covered her face.

  “All I had to do was to bear a child and all would be well, but no. Even that was denied to me. Your mother cursed my womb.”

  “A barren womb means you or someone close to you has taken another life. And in return, one has been taken from you.”

  Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “You lie.”

  “I do not.” I
stood my ground. “A curse isn’t always meant as punishment but can right a wrong. It’s a means of justice, and sometimes to avenge evil, you need a greater Eville. Sometimes that evil is my mother, and sometimes it’s me.”

  The queen paled at my warning, but I had to play my cards and keep her at bay, for there was a madness behind her eyes, and one hand still buried deep within her skirts.

  “I know your sins,” I said. “I know what you did.”

  Queen Maris’ hand shook, and she took a tentative step toward me. I felt that the queen was close to breaking. She crumpled, folding in on herself, her hand clutching her stomach.

  “You don’t know the truth. The pain that I suffered when that woman came here,” she said, seething. “I was his favorite. Until he met her. She did not belong here, just as you do not belong here.”

  “You killed Ophelia.”

  “She was a pregnant whore,” Queen Maris spat.

  “She was a prisoner of your husband’s desire, bound by drugs. You could have helped her, freed her. Instead, you poisoned her.”

  “He was obsessed with that woman,” she whined, running her free hand down her face. “I couldn’t stand it. Being number two to her. A nobody fae without an inch of noble blood. She had to go, by any means possible. But then I didn’t know about the brat.”

  “The king made you keep the child, pretend it was your own.”

  Maris cried out, her fingernails raking down her own arms in distress. “I couldn’t allow that child to live, let alone pretend it was mine. So I made a deal with a sorcerer to steal the child the night of its christening, but then Lorelai showed up. Since then, I’ve been barren, and it’s her fault.”

  She raised from the folds of her skirt a silver dagger. Queen Maris drew the dagger closer to her chest, the tip pointed toward me.

  The queen’s lips pulled into an ungainly smile. “I knew what was best for our kingdom then, as I do now. Allemar told me that once I’ve killed you, I will no longer be barren. Your death will lift the curse from my womb.”

  She lunged, swinging the dagger toward my throat. I easily knocked it from her hand, but a mad woman was strong. She flung herself at me and I fell backward, her weight pushing me over the ledge of the outer wall. My back bent over the wall as she clawed at my face and ripped at my hair.