Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville Book 4) Read online

  “I’m so sorry,” I cried out. Quickly, I sat back on my heels and looked at the poor golden-furred creature. On closer examination, the fur was the collar of a red cloak. I carefully rolled the person over and saw a man in a golden helm, his chin showing a few days of dark stubble. His uniform with golden trim was foreign. I didn’t recognize it as one of our neighboring kingdoms.

  The red uniform hid his wound, and I only knew where it was because of my pain. I lifted his tunic, exposing the makeshift bandage that had soaked through. I pulled back the cloth to reveal a deep gash, and infected yellow pus spilled out.

  I leaned down and gave it a passing sniff. There was a hint of magic about his wounds that prevented them from healing despite dressing the injury.

  I closed my eyes and focused.

  Lorn. Here . . .

  My head throbbed. It was easier for me to pick out the thoughts of others than to send my own, which was usually only successful when amplified by fear.

  We’re coming, Aurora.

  Kraa! Kraa! Maeve called out my location to help Lorn and Honor find me.

  “Maeve, fly home. Tell mother we have a medical situation. Have Rhea mill linseed and bezoar. I will do my best to get him home in one piece.” Maeve turned to fly south as fast as she could.

  I pulled the helm off to reveal a young man with sun-blond hair. His green eyes fluttered open. The pain I saw within them drew me in. I clasped his hand. “I can’t heal you until we draw out whatever magic is preventing your wound from healing. But I can take your pain away if you let me.”

  He nodded. His head rolled back, and his breathing became ragged.

  My hands trembled as I put my hands on his temples, unsure if I could do it on such a large scale. As a child, this was an easy feat when one of my sisters fell or scraped their leg. I would draw away the pain and share it with them.

  I reached into his mind and picked away. Pain was mental, and therefore in my wheelhouse, but magic always came with a price. It’s a give and take. To take his mental pain away, it needed to go somewhere else—me.

  I cried out, not expecting the intense gut-wrenching anguish. I almost threw up. My mouth gaped open, but I refused to let go. I would take his pain. I had to.

  The copper tinge of blood filled my mouth as I accidentally bit my tongue.

  The stranger’s breathing relaxed, but I wouldn’t let go.

  “Aura. We’re here.” Lorn found me. He kneeled and lifted the stranger into a sitting position, breaking my mental hold. I gasped as it was like being slapped in the face with a hammer, but I regained control. I was still grasping for the link, like racing after the string on a kite through the grass.

  I struggled for the connection, and then caught it.

  Honor helped lift the stranger across Lorn’s back. Elves were stronger than most men, and faster. Lorn took off running, the stranger a red blur on his back as he raced for our home.

  Honor reached for my shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me!” I backed away. Tears poured down my face as I grappled with the man’s pain.

  “Aura, you can’t take all the pain.”

  “I can,” I snapped. “I must. If I hadn’t been so weak, then Meri wouldn’t have . . . she wouldn’t have . . .” My head dropped, and then I collapsed to my knees. Tears pooled in my eyes and snot ran down my nose. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so afraid of the pain from those men’s thoughts, Meri wouldn’t have had to defend me. She wouldn’t have accidentally killed Armon and run away.”

  “That was her decision,” Honor said coolly. “We all must be held accountable for our own actions. You can only atone for your own.” She looked down on me, and I felt small and weak in her eyes.

  “I’m not strong like you,” I whispered.

  “No, you’re not,” Honor stated truthfully, never one to sugarcoat her feelings. “But you’re good.” I saw a flicker of sadness, then she looked away, and I wondered what she was hiding. “Come, I will escort you home.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” I muttered, pushing myself to my feet.

  “I never suggested otherwise.” Honor’s hand rested on the handle of her short sword, her eyes scanning the woods. “We don’t know what made those wounds, or what kind of danger he may be in.”

  I sighed. She was guarding me, and as we walked back to the house, I was grateful for the added protection. With the mental shape I was in, I wasn’t sure if I could fight off an attack.

  The trek home was silent and weary. Honor was on high alert, and she tiptoed through the woods. I followed, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other while my mind replayed the events.

  Who was that man? Where was he from? And last, was he dangerous?

  Chapter Two

  By the time we made it home, dusk had settled, and our tower had become a dark and ominous outline on the horizon. Our home, once an abandoned guard structure, had been expanded over the years and now included a main house and work room. My sisters—seven in all—each adopted by Lady Eville, lived in the top three floors of the tower, and our adoptive mother trained us in the way of magic and vengeance.

  Bug, our donkey, stood by the front entrance, his enormous head protruding through the doorframe as he spied the goings-on inside. Honor awkwardly stepped around him and didn’t even give him a second glance. I placed my hand on Bug’s side and felt a shiver ripple through his hindquarters.

  He backed out of the doorway and gave me a forlorn look.

  “That bad, huh?”

  Bad. His tail flicked, and he moved back to watch the commotion. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself and headed inside. Our mahogany dining table had been hastily cleared off to make room for the stranger. The shepherd’s pie knocked to the floor along with our freshly baked bread. Hack was under the table, making sure the scraps didn’t go to waste, his face buried in the potatoes as he greedily licked up the food. He didn’t even seem to mind the green things.

  Mother Eville looked foreboding in a black high neck gown, her hair braided into a soft crown around her head. Her dark brows knit into a line of worry, her face grim. Even with her sleeves rolled up and her hands covered in blood, she was a magnificent beauty. One that had made six princes argue over her hand in marriage. That was before she saw how cold and cruel their hearts truly were, and she vowed retribution upon them.

  Ever since, she swore off love and focused on revenge, only helping those she deemed worthy of her time. Lorn was holding the injured man’s shoulders down to keep him from moving while Mother worked. Honor moved to his feet and assisted her mentor, Lorn. Rhea was absent, and Maeve was pacing in the back of the room.

  The man moaned softly as my mother poked and prodded his stomach. “There’s something inside. I can’t remove it with what I have here, and we have little time. Maeve, I need you.”

  “Got it.” My sister’s eyes gleamed as she shifted into a crow and hopped onto the man’s chest. Her head tilted side to side as she studied the wound area. Her bird-like eyes searching for what our human eyes couldn’t see. The crow had a shorter and thinner beak over the larger raven, perfect for being a pair of tweezers in emergencies.

  Maeve’s dark head bobbed and struck, coming up with a sharp object between her beak. She promptly dropped it into her mother’s palm. Her head tilted, and she studied the wound. She flapped her wings, flew to the middle of the room, and shifted.

  “Gross,” she fumed, wiping the blood from around her mouth.

  Mother Eville ignored her and studied the sliver. “It’s a thorn. With it removed, we should be able to withdraw the poison and heal him.” She tossed the tip into a ceramic bowl.

  The door to the workroom slammed open as Rhea rushed inside, a mortar and pestle cupped in her hands.

  “I ground up the linseed and bezoar as Aura instructed.” Rhea set the bowl down on the table.

  With deft fingers, Mother took boiling water from the kettle on the stove and poured it over the crushed linseed. She quickly stirred
it together into a hot paste. “Hand me that linen.”

  Rhea took the clean linen from the shelf and watched as Mother spread the poultice across the linen. After testing the temperature against her own skin, she packed it against the man’s wounds. “The bezoar should work against the poison while the linseed will draw out the infection.”

  “You haven’t lost your touch,” Lorn said.

  “I had an excellent teacher,” she said and glanced away. She looked across the room and our eyes met. “You did well, Aura.”

  “Is there nothing else you can do?” I asked helplessly, staring at the man who hadn’t moved or opened his eyes since they brought him to the house.

  Mother shook her head. “No, and I won’t until I know who he is and why he was in our woods.” She glanced toward the fireplace and our crystal protection wards. None of them had gone off, but he was also found beyond our ward boundaries. “What did you learn, Aura?” She moved to the basin and scrubbed her hands clean of the blood.

  I swallowed. “Not much. His pain was palpable and distracting. I wasn’t able to get anything else from him.”

  “Pity.” She turned to Lorn. “What do you think?”

  Lorn’s silver eyes carefully looked over the man’s clothing. “He looks to be from the northern kingdom of Rya, but they haven’t traveled this far south since the last gathering of kings when you ceremoniously made a fool of them. The journey is treacherous and not for the faint of heart. He must be a man of great determination to make it this far while wounded.”

  Mother dried her hands on a tea towel and frowned. “It’s as I thought. The mirror has shown me nothing but fog over Rya for the last few weeks. This means there’s trouble brewing.” From the hidden pocket within the folds of her skirt, she pulled a dagger and placed it under the sleeping man’s throat, scraping dangerously close to his Adam’s apple. “Make no mistake, if he is here to harm us, I will kill him.”

  Lorn placed a gentle hand on my mother’s wrist, pulling the dagger away from his neck. “Lorelai, it won’t come to that.” He carefully took the blade from her and placed it out of reach on the windowsill. “Because I will kill him before he touches any of you.”

  Her hand shook, and she nodded. Turning to us, she pointed up the stairs toward our rooms. “You, all of you, go to your rooms and stay there. Lorn and I will watch over him until he wakes, and we can question him thoroughly.”

  “But what if you need us?” Maeve argued.

  “We won’t,” she said firmly.

  None of us budged. We stood in place, all defying her. Until Honor flicked her braid over her shoulder in annoyance and handed Lorn three more daggers she unloaded from hidden pockets in her clothes. She marched up the stairs first and turned to glare at us. “You heard Mother; move!” Honor snapped.

  Startled by the command, Maeve ran up the stairs first, pushing against Honor, knocking her into the wall. Rhea followed second. I passed Honor on the steps and she hesitated, staring at the man on the table. She was having second thoughts about leaving.

  “Honor,” I said softly. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

  She watched Lorn as he placed his hands on Mother’s shoulders and whispered into her ear.

  “Oh,” Honor said, realizing for the first time what I had always known. Lorn had feelings for our mother. I was always the first to know everything about everyone. I couldn’t pry into the vault that was my mother’s mind, but I knew Lorn’s feelings. I headed up the stairs and Honor took up the rear, making sure that we were all heading to our floors. Rhea and Maeve stopped on the second floor and headed into their room, while the stairs narrowed and I headed further up into the tower, to the empty and dreary third floor.

  I stepped into the round room and stared at the empty mattresses that belonged to Eden and Rosalie. Their bedding had been rolled up and stowed away what felt like ages ago. It was almost two years since Rosalie had left to marry Prince Xander, and they now had a wonderful daughter named Violet. Eden had found happiness with Dorian in Candor, and we had recently received a missive announcing the wedding of my sister, Meri.

  All of them had gone on grand adventures, and the one time I attempted to, I messed up. Many months ago, I faltered when cornered by thugs in town. Unable to defend myself, I cried out for help and Meri had come to my rescue. She inadvertently killed a man, Armon, while protecting me. She ran away, and I attempted to follow.

  Sighing, I flopped back onto my bed, fingering the pink needlework flowers on my bedding. It was a disaster. I dragged my pillow over my head as I tried to drown out the memories. I had begged my sisters to let me follow Meri. Knowing my limitations with travel and large crowds, Rhea had given me her three corded magical bracelet that took her six months to make. It would allow me to travel through a mirror exactly two times.

  I used the bracelet and traveled through the mirror to Isla and arrived just in time to stop my sister’s curse from taking hold and killing her. By reading her mind, I could garner the knowledge to save her from the sea witch, but to do so, I would have to kill the one person she loved—the Prince of Isla.

  I flung the pillow to the floor and held up my hand, studying the lines along my palm, envisioning the feel of the dagger. I had tried to do it, to stab him, but as an empath I couldn’t hurt someone. In the end, it was someone else who made the sacrifice. A guard of the Undersea named Vasili. He took his own life to save Meri’s. Another death that weighed heavy on my conscience.

  My fingers trembled. I blinked, and my vision blurred with my tears. It was my fault that Meri had a bounty on her head and had to run away, which led to her getting cursed. If I were brave like Honor or Rosalie, I would have thought to sacrifice myself and save her.

  I laid my head on the pillow and watched the moonlight stream through my open window. I just hoped that the stranger sleeping on our kitchen table wouldn’t suffer the bad luck that seemed to follow me.

  I couldn’t sleep. Slipping out of bed, I grabbed a robe and tied it around my waist. Tiptoeing down the stairs, I hung back in the stairwell and listened to Lorn and Mother speaking in hushed voices.

  “I don’t like it, Lorelai,” Lorn whispered. “There should be no reason for someone from Rya to be so close to your home. He could put you and your daughters in danger.”

  “I don’t either. But we’re hardly in danger. My daughters and I can handle ourselves quite well.”

  “Not Aura,” Lorn muttered. “Ever since the accidental murder of the village boy, she’s been unstable. I know she tries to hide it, but that incident did more damage to her than she will admit.”

  “She’s fine,” Mother admonished.

  “No, she’s not. She’s still unable to shield herself properly. If she doesn’t soon learn to control her powers, she will become a danger to herself and the girls.”

  My teeth clenched, and I tried to control my anger and deny it. But Lorn was right.

  “Well, I will just train her harder,” Mother said.

  “The kind of training she needs can’t be done here. I should take her with me and train her the way I do Honor.”

  “No,” she said vehemently. “Not Aura.”

  I felt a moment of affirmation, that my mother stuck up for me, but the feelings quickly dissipated as she continued. “She’s not like her sisters. She won’t survive your training, Lorn. As much as I tried to train them to be ruthless and use their anger as armor to protect them from the hate of the world, Aura is as pure as the snow.”

  “Her empathy is her weakness,” Lorn argued. “Remember, I’m the one that conducts their tests and chose their course of training. Maybe I made a mistake.”

  “I disagree. Her empathy is her strength. But she is hiding under a cloud of insecurities ever since she came back from Isla. She’s safer here at home.”

  “You can’t protect her forever,” Lorn said.

  “Not forever; just a little longer.”

  “Lorelai, you need to tell her about her mother. What if that man
is here because he knows what you did?”

  “Stop, Lorn.” The pain was clear in my mother’s voice. “I can’t tell her yet.”

  Mother. A word that I only associated with the woman standing before me, one who looked nothing like me. My real mother, just a figment of my imagination, a sentence in a story of my life. I knew about my birth mother.

  She had died. Mother Eville found me abandoned in the woods and raised me here. In Nihill, the town whose name literally meant nothing.

  I peeked around the corner and watched my normally stern mother, her raven-colored hair cascading down her back, become choked up with emotion. Lorn stepped forward and wrapped his hands around her waist. She leaned into his chest for comfort and wiped the tears from her eyes. A few moments later, she pulled away uncomfortably.

  There was no way to deny that Lorn and my mother were in love, but for some reason, they put up a front and hid it from us.

  I debated sneaking back upstairs, but I heard a groan and froze my foot in the air.

  “He’s waking up,” Lorn said.

  I heard fumbling and leaned forward to see Lorn pull a knife and keep it below the dining table, out of sight.

  Mother stepped forward and leaned over the man. She pressed a finger to his forehead. “Somnus.”

  The man blinked and his head dropped back to the table as he fell under her sleeping spell.

  “You should have let me question him,” Lorn muttered.

  “No, not tonight. I have no desire to hear anything he has to say. As soon as he is well, I want him gone from our lands.”

  “What if he’s come here for help? What if he is looking for the missing heir?”

  “If he is, then he will have to look elsewhere. You know as well as I do, that nothing good ever comes out of the kingdom of Rya.”

  Chapter Three

  When I came down the next morning, the stranger was gone. The table was empty and set for breakfast. All signs of last night’s medical emergency had disappeared with the rays from the morning sun.