Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville #4) - Chanda Hahn Page 0,2

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 each 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.