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Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville Book 4)
Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville Book 4) Read online
Contents
Also by Chanda Hahn
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Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Of Thorn and Thread
Copyright © 2020 by Chanda Hahn
Neverwood Press
Editor: A.L.D Editing
Cover Design Covers by Combs
Proof Readers: Corrine Doxey & Laura Martinez
Map Illustration by Hanna Sandvig: www.bookcoverbakey.com
www.chandahahn.com
9781950440191
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by Chanda Hahn
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Of Glass and Glamour
Of Sea and Song
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THE UNFORTUNATE FAIRY TALES
UnEnchanted
Fairest
Fable
Reign
Forever
THE NEVERWOOD CHRONICLES
Lost Girl
Lost Boy
Lost Shadow
THE UNDERLAND DUOLOGY
Underland
Underlord
THE IRON BUTTERFLY SERIES
Iron Butterfly
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Silver Siren
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Prologue
“What’s that smell?” Harken asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Relax. It’s just mold, mildew, and”—Velora closed her eyes and inhaled, breathing out the last word, savoring it—“magic.”
“Magic has a smell?” Harken scratched his scruffy chin as he followed the others down the stone steps. The green mage light barely illuminated the eerie passageway.
“Old magic does,” Velora said.
Crammed together like fish in a barrel, they navigated the narrow tunnel, ducking under roots that protruded from the ceiling. Velora picked up her skirts and kept close to Aspen, Allemar’s apprentice.
Harken missed a step, the heavy pack he carried causing him to pitch forward into Allemar.
“This is the best you could do for acolytes?” Allemar ridiculed, rubbing his shoulder.
Aspen looked upon his master who had only a few months ago regained a human form, his soul having been trapped within a spelled dagger and then transferred into the current body in front of him. The green-gold eyes that looked at him with disdain once belonged to a guard of the Undersea. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to his master’s new appearance.
Aspen cleared his throat. “Harken and Dormir are the best bounty hunters. They served me well.”
“I suppose one mustn’t complain of a donkey if they don’t want to carry the burden themselves,” Allemar replied.
As the five travelers carried on, the steps leveled out, and the passageway opened up to where they could stand shoulder to shoulder.
“The smell of magic is growing stronger,” Velora said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“What are we looking for again, and is it going to make me money?” Dormir asked. His hand brushed the knife clipped to his belt. “I’m tired of traveling all over this forsaken kingdom searching for some vault that’s probably already been looted. There better be gold inside.”
Allemar turned to confront him. “What’s inside is far more valuable than gold. It’s the key to bringing down the kingdom of Rya.”
“No gold? Yeah, count me out,” Harken said, turning on his heel and heading back up the stairs. “I’ve got better things to do.”
“Then by all means, don’t let me stop you,” Allemar sneered and flicked his wrist.
Harken’s head turned with a crack and he slid to the floor. Without feeling or remorse, Allemar stepped over his still warm body. “Sweet dreams.”
Velora, Aspen, and Dormir stilled, watching the sorcerer with wide, fear-filled eyes.
“Anyone else care to share their unwanted opinions?” Allemar asked.
Three heads shook simultaneously.
“I thought not,” Allemar said.
Forging ahead through the cave, a ball of magic lit the way . . . until it stopped and circled in the air, flickering repeatedly.
“It’s acting strange. Is it broken?” Velora asked.
“No,” Allemar said, and his wicked smile grew wider. Velora cringed in response. “I found it.” He rubbed his hands together greedily.
“Found what?” Dormir asked, not learning his lesson of his fellow hunter.
“A door. And behind it a curse that’s been bound for nigh twenty years, growing in power and potency.”
Allemar clapped his hands, and the light flickered once . . . twice . . . before growing in size and illuminating the whole underground cave, revealing the long, twisted roots of the never trees. From above, the heart of the fae court stretched from the dirt roof and intertwined with each other, reaching down to the ground creating a crooked archway. Between the arch was an iron door covered in symbols and a language long forgotten.
Allemar muttered under his breath and ran his hands along the door, brushing off dirt to reveal more symbols and sigils. With a spelled word, he trailed his finger over the door and sigils glowed faintly before disappearing again.
“What does it say?” Velora whispered to Aspen.
“It’s a warning.” Aspen pointed to the symbol nearest Allemar. “To anyone who opens the door. It promises death and destruction.”
Velora rubbed her hands up and down her arms and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
Allemar mumbled to himself. “Finally, I will break free that which you have bound.”
His hands glowed, light bursting from his fingertips as he placed them over each one of the magic locks. Rays of green light shot from the symbols, washing over the underground cavern, creating a sickly underwater illusion.
Allemar continued to chant, his face a mask of pain. His arms trembled under the strain, his voice rising to a crescendo.
First, the tremor was barely perceivable. A mere shake, but then the earth rolled over, and the quake grew. Dust fell from the ceiling, the sketchy path beneath their feet rose as the rocks pushed forth from the ground and sinkholes opened. It was as if the earth belched out its displeasure at the dark magic being poured into it.
Aspen pulled Velora away to safety as the door
continued to glow green. The pleasant aroma of magic was dispelled by the sulfurous amount of dark magic being used.
“It’s not enough,” Aspen whispered.
Allemar shot an ugly glare over his shoulder. “It will be.” With renewed determination, Allemar returned his focus on breaking down the magical barriers. With each lock he broke, there was a repercussion in nature.
“Look!” Velora pointed as water poured down in rivulets from an underground cistern above their head. “Should we run?” she asked, as it soaked their feet.
“If you do, he’ll kill you.” Aspen’s grip tightened on Velora in a silent warning. “Stay.”
Allemar screamed. A surge of power erupted, blasting through the final magical lock, and knocking everyone from their feet and into the muddy cavern.
The door hung, broken on its hinge, and it swung outward with an ominous creak. Within the darkness, something moved and slithered about. The creaking and churning followed by an almost human groan.
Allemar got to his feet, wiping his muddy hands on his cloak. He peered into the darkness and whispered. “You’re free. Go. Do what you were born to do before you were so unjustly bound.”
The creaking stilled, the curse listening to the words of the sorcerer.
Dormir groaned as he sat up. Using his palms, he wiped at the mud coating his eyes, and he heard the slithering noise.
“What the—?” Dormir looked up at the broken door.
Vines shot out of the doorway, wrapped around Dormir’s leg, and dragged him screaming into the darkness.
“Can we run now?” Velora asked, her body tense.
A thick fog poured out of the doorway, spilling into the cavern. Behind it, crackling thorn branches sprouted from within, growing and reaching for them.
Aspen nodded. “Run.” He released her arm, and they began running back up the way they came. Slipping and sliding in the mud, the steps almost washed away.
Allemar laughed deliriously. “Yes, go! You’re free.”
A slippery thorn branch inched closer to Allemar’s leg, and the sorcerer blasted it, turning it to ash. The rest of the prickly vines retreated and instead found a path around him, growing, and sprouting over his head.
They followed the rooted archways that grew and spread— an infectious disease killing everything in its way.
Allemar spoke aloud. “Now, I will have my revenge.”
Chapter One
Blindfolded, I ran through the meadow. My breath burst in my lungs as I struggled to calm my mind and focus on the surrounding sounds. No—not the sounds. The thoughts.
She’ll never find me. A burst of yellow appeared in my mind—intense joy.
I lifted my skirts to stalk my prey, but hesitated as I tried to gain my bearings.
To the left. You’re about to run into the fence.
“Thanks,” I whispered to Hack, our orange tabby cat. He sat on an alder tree stump watching my progress with feigned feline disinterest. But whenever I was about to walk into danger, he would mentally feed me clues. If Rhea or Maeve knew I used Hack to cheat during the test, they would never let me live it down.
I adjusted my course and the soft swish of grass under my shoes turned into the crunch of dried pine needles. I was leaving the field and heading into the woods.
Oh, stars. She’s coming. Wall. Brick wall. Big brick wall. Huge!
I held back a laugh.
It was Rhea. I could tell by her meager attempt to visualize a mental wall to keep me out of her thoughts. It was useless. Just thinking about a brick wall didn’t create a mental barrier, despite what many believed.
I paused and tried to focus on where she was. Reading thoughts didn’t give me a direct clue to where my sisters were hiding, but sometimes they let an emotion slip, or a thought would give them away.
Ouch! Stupid thorns.
And like that, I was off. I knew where Rhea was. Carefully, with my hands out in front of me, I headed toward the garden wall and the blackberry bushes on the edge of the woods.
“Rheanon. You can come out.” I waited with the blindfold on and heard her whisper a cuss under her breath.
“That’s not fair!” she whined, as she struggled to get out of the thicket. “Ouch. Stink. Ow.”
“Maybe that will teach you to pick your hiding spots better,” Lorn called out.
“Whatever,” Rhea snapped and marched over to the stone fence next to Lorn to await the outcome of the game.
Lorn, our elven friend from the north, had put this exercise together for me. Normally, I would hunt everyone using my gifts, but this time he wanted to challenge me, and he took away my sight. “One down, two to go,” he called out.
Okay. I could do this. It was just Maeve and Honor left. Honor would be impossible to find since she’d been training at hiding and stealth for years. I’d better focus on Maeve. Her mind was never quiet, but rumbled like a quiet storm.
I didn’t always need to read emotions or thoughts. Sometimes nature or the wildlife itself would help give me clues.
Ack! Scram! Scat! Intruder!
A local squirrel became fussy, and I heard it chattering loudly. I knew it had to be my sister, Maeve, in her raven form. She was lurking in the nearby tree by the noise the squirrel was making. A burst of dark red exploded my mind.
Anger.
Yep. That was Maeve. I carefully followed the sound of the squirrel as it ran up the trunk of a maple tree to protect its nest from the normally predatory bird. He didn’t know it was really a human girl.
“Found you, Maeve!” I placed my hand on the tree, the bark rough under my fingertips.
A brush of wind whipped past my face as Maeve tried to show off. The magic in the air left a tingling sensation on my skin as she shifted back into her human self. Even with a blindfold on, I could imagine her dark hair, glowering green eyes, and the permanent frown on her face.
“I did better this time,” she said. “If it weren’t for the tattletale.” A burst of red filled my mind again as Maeve directed her anger at the squirrel.
I laughed and listened as Maeve headed back to join Rhea and Lorn. Which left Honor, the toughest.
Any help? I mentally asked Hack.
Got food? he replied.
I sent him an image of the shepherd’s pie that I knew was cooking in the kitchen stove.
No green things.
Hack didn’t like peas.
Deal.
In the well.
I tried to hide my amusement as I headed toward the well, slowing when wind rocked the wooden handle, and it groaned. I was getting close.
Honor was the hardest for me to read and rarely did I ever get a glimpse of her thoughts or feelings. The well had a wood covering over it and I felt along the top for the edge to slide it off. I couldn’t imagine Honor climbing down inside the well, trapping herself in the dark. But then again, I didn’t really know her, for she was gone more than she was home.
A flash of mustard color knocked me back, and I dropped the cover back over the well with a thud.
Help!
A feeling of pain washed over me, and I grasped the edge of the well for support.
Help! The call came again. It was fainter this time. Weaker. I ripped the blindfold off and spun in a circle, searching for the call. The sun temporarily blinded me as my eyes struggled to adjust to the light, but I couldn’t stop. I picked up my skirts and ran into the woods.
“Aura,” Lorn called after me. “Where are you going?”
Running wildly, I was following the scattered images that came my way from a stranger in need. A blur of black flew past my shoulder and I knew Maeve was with me. I wasn’t alone. I slowed when I heard nothing and panicked. What if I was too late?
A flash of light behind my eyelids knocked me to my knees, and more images filled my head. A tree hit by lighting and a moss-covered stone.
“The old hickory tree,” I said aloud. Maeve flew ahead, and I followed the pain. Flashes of white appeared in my mind, and with ea
ch flash a wave of pain followed it. It was enough to halt my steps. The dizziness came, followed by nausea. I scrambled for a bush and emptied my stomach, throwing up what little I had for lunch.
I held back my own cries as I stumbled deeper into the forest, and paused when I came to the tree, struck by lightning.
“Aura!” Lorn burst through the woods and caught me as I was about to fall over.
“Somewhere around here, I think,” I whispered and pointed toward the thickets. “Just past the moss-covered stone.”
“Stay here.” He helped me lean against the tree, and he pulled out his knife. Honor appeared out of thin air at his side. Her hair braided, the edges of her dress wet. Her face deadly calm. She had been in the well. I could imagine her back pressed against the side, her legs leveraged on the wall and the tips of her skirt dangling in the water. That would take incredible strength and control. Lorn and Honor headed into the forest in search of the cry for help.
I tried to gather my emotions and block out the pain, but it was almost impossible. I inhaled as I grasped my side.
“It hurts so bad,” I whimpered. Based on the location of my phantom pains, whoever was calling was severely wounded.
Mother Eville’s voice was in my head, chastising me. Telling me to block off the caller to protect myself. But if I did that, then I couldn’t find them. It was a two-way line of communication. If I couldn’t feel them, then I couldn’t hear them.
The pain ebbed away, and I found enough strength to stand and follow Honor and Lorn.
I have failed.
I turned and fell over a warm body.