Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville #4) - Chanda Hahn Page 0,63

a pendulum . . . until I felt a tug on the spindle. A thread pulled off, and it pulsed harder until I felt a shock in my fingers. I almost dropped the spindle, and I looked at where it had sent off the spark.

I studied the ebb and flow of the fog, taking into account the spindle’s magic.

“No,” I exclaimed.

“No?” he asked.

“We go there.” I pointed. “Just beyond the fog, to the northwest. A swirl in the fog, a miniscule vortex. Do you see it?”

Liam squinted and followed my hand. “I’ve never noticed it before. What is it?”

“It’s the source of your blight.”

“What do you think we will find?” He looked at me expectantly.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

His shoulders dropped.

He didn’t need to say anything to me. I understood where his hopelessness came from. He had wanted to return with a weapon, but he returned with a liability, and because he searched for me to save me from Madam Esme’s, we arrived too late to save the city.

“Where did you get that?” Liam asked, pointing to the spindle in my hand. “Looks old and beat up.”

“I got it from the old woman at the inn. It will bring me luck.”

“Good, we’ll need all the luck we can get to survive the fog.”

Devin rode up next to us and surveyed the blight. He let out a low whistle. “I heard, but still never expected it to be this bad. What do you think happened to the second contingent of troops the king sent to stop the blight?”

Liam’s face hardened. “If they encountered what I did, then they’re gone.”

“How do we fight against magic we don’t understand?” Devin asked.

Liam glanced at me, and then away. “There are many things in this world we don’t understand, and plenty we do. We may not understand magic, or spells, but we have faith, courage, and hope—and it is because of that I believe we will find a way.”

Devin smirked. “It didn’t work before, why should it work now?”

“Because now we’re backed into a corner and we have no choice.” Liam turned and gave Devin a malicious grin. “And that’s when we become the most dangerous.”

I wanted to say something profound or encouraging, but Liam turned toward his men, raised his sword high in the air, and yelled out, “Onward to protect Rya!”

The mood shifted from despair to grim determination. I felt the goosebumps rise along my arms, and I could sense the change in the air. Feel the willpower of the troops led by Liam. Even I felt encouraged by his charisma, spurring my horse and falling in line behind Devin as we began our race toward the fog.

As we ran along the river, I saw flashes of silver as undines were racing downstream and along the banks, while herds of deer, elk, and small forest creatures were quickly evacuating. Specks of black covered the sky as flocks of birds were following the same path—away from the blight.

On the roads we met cart after cart pulled by donkey, horse, or even steer as people evacuated their homes and were heading toward the castle. No one wanted to stay to meet the doom slowly creeping toward their doorstep.

Except for us, and we rode straight toward it.

A howling screech ripped through the air, spooking the horses, and scattering our formation. We entered the fog, and immediately the sky darkened. We could feel a mental oppression weighing heavy on our minds.

“What was that?” I asked.

Devin, Hayes, and Berk drew their swords and moved to the inside of the path, putting themselves between the loud sound and me.

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard that sound before,” Devin whispered.

“Banshee,” Liam said, his back straight, eyes scanning all the shadows for danger. “Don’t stop, men. Keep moving. This is not the part of the woods where you want to dawdle,” he warned.

“Why not?” I asked.

“What you’re hearing are the dark fae.”

“But they’re home is a good forty miles west of here,” Hayes said.

“Their hunting ground has migrated with the blight. It’s best if we go unnoticed. Take off the bridles and armor. We must move through the fog as quietly as we can.” Liam raised an eyebrow at me. “Still glad you came?”

“It’s going to take more than the threat of dark fae to scare me,” I said firmly.

“Good to hear.”

He turned and rode back to the front. Using hand signals to direct his men, they switched out the decorated harnesses for simpler leather bridles, tucking away all