Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville #4) - Chanda Hahn Page 0,60

with desperation in my eyes.

“Oma! Was se?” Anna asked.

Oma repeated her conversation and Anna listened intently, her head bobbing every few seconds, followed by a long sigh.

Anna packed Oma’s things into her old bag and paused when she saw the brittle white bones. “Ew, I hope she didn’t give you chicken bones. She always believes those will bring the bearer luck.”

I held up the spindle.

Anna laughed in relief. “Yeah, I don’t know where that came from, only that she’s had it forever. I’m surprised she gave it to you.”

“I can’t possibly take it, then.” I placed the spindle on the bedside table, and Oma stamped her feet angrily.

Anna looked up in alarm. “No, you need to take the gift, otherwise she will be upset, and it will take hours to settle her down.”

My fingers curled around the spindle, and Oma’s loud stomping faded away. She gave me a bright, toothy grin, and pinched my cheeks.

Anna laughed. “Oma said it will bring you luck. It’s made of firethorn.”

Firethorn was rare and only found deep within the fae woods. It was a giant tree with thorns that ran a foot in length, this spindle carved from one of those thorns. To a sorceress, it held immense power . . . or rather, it would in the right person’s hands. In mine, it only hummed.

I bit my lower lip and regretted not having my powers. My head dropped, and Oma noticed my change in mood.

Oma spoke to Anna in a hushed voice before the girl turned to me, and declared, “You haven’t lost it.”

“What?” I asked.

“Whatever it is you apparently lost.” Anna shrugged. “She’s not one for details, and says she needs a nap.”

Oma shuffled out of the room, and Anna helped her grandma down the steep stairs. I let Oma’s words resonate with me. A candle mark later, Anna returned with a tray of food, and the girl seemed hesitant to leave.

“Can you tell me something,” I asked. “What do you know about the heir of Rya?”

Anna plopped herself down on the edge of my bed and crossed her feet. She placed her chin in her palm and gave me a look. “There isn’t one.”

“Oh . . .”

“I mean, there isn’t one anymore. It could just be rumors, and considering who it’s coming from, I don’t really know what to believe.”

“Go on.” I waited patiently for her to continue.

Anna took a deep breath. “Oma used to work at the palace a long time ago. When Dana and I were little, she told us a story about King Pharrell and his true love.”

“You mean Queen Maris?” I said.

Anna shook her head. “Not the queen. He had an affair with a beautiful fae woman. It’s said, the newly married king was out riding one day, and he came upon a young fae woman sleeping in the forest. He fell madly in love and would sneak away from the palace and his queen to come visit her every day.”

“I can see why they would keep this silent.”

Anna nodded. “It was a scandal. The king married Maris out of duty, but he loved the fae woman. He even snuck her into a hidden wing in the castle and kept her presence secret from the queen. The young fae woman begged to return to her forest home, saying she couldn’t stand to live within the cold, lifeless walls of the palace.”

“That’s so sad,” I said.

Anna nodded. “The king locked her in the tower, and rumor has it, she became depressed and took her life.”

My fingers dug into the quilt of the bedspread. “No,” I gasped.

“A few days later, a dark storm blew in, and with it, Tatiana, Queen of the lesser fae court. She came seeking vengeance.

“Queen Tatiana said the fae woman was her handmaiden and friend, and she didn’t commit suicide, but was murdered. The king denied it, claiming loudly for all to hear that he had loved the woman, and still did. Tatiana called him a liar and vowed to curse his kingdom and take from him what he cherished most. His firstborn child. Days later, a child was born in secret to King Pharrell and Queen Maris. Fearing that Tatiana would take their child, the king ordered an attack on the fae court, killing everyone in it and burning it to the ground. Believing that the fae queen was a casualty of the attack, they thought themselves safe from her curse.

“On the day of the child’s christening, Tatiana returned, clothed in black and covered