Of Thorn and Thread (Daughters of Eville #4) - Chanda Hahn Page 0,77
forest using it as protection while they head straight to the king. Remember what you said about the thorns?”
Liam’s sword flew at a branch that had snuck up to them. He sliced the offending intruder clean through.
“Yeah,” Liam snapped and turned to place himself in harm’s way again. “They’re poisonous to humans.”
“Which makes navigating them successfully impossible for the men from Rya. It’s the perfect defense.”
After another candle mark of discussing the map, laying out all possible routes, I had come to a final decision. The men spoke in low voices, a dull mumble that Liam couldn’t hear, but I could hear them loud and clear.
They found nothing.
“What do you think we should do?” Liam asked.
“I can’t get your men through the firethorn safely,” I said through clenched teeth. “They will surely get attacked and die. I think the best course of action would be for them to go around the mountain and come up to the palace on the south side, avoiding the ley line and thorns altogether.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to take the direct route—into the forest of thorns.”
“Aura, I told you it’s certain death.”
“No, it’s not. Because I’m part fae.” I held up my finger to show him the still healing wound on my finger. “I touched the firethorn tree in the fae court.”
“You are?”
“I knew I had fae blood. Lorn hinted to me long ago that empathy gifts are predominantly passed down in fae families.”
“Then that settles it.”
“What?” I asked.
“I will escort you through the firethorns. For where you go, I go. Even if it means certain death.”
I smiled encouragingly. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
“When we healed you, Maeve pulled a firethorn out of you. Yes, the wound was infected from not being cleaned, but the poison didn’t kill you straight away. Because you, Liam, are fae.”
“I don’t believe it.” Liam let out a long breath.
My brows furrowed. “There’s nothing wrong with being fae, or even part fae. It would explain your magic.”
“It’s just, I had a certain vision in my head. An idea, and I guess being fae wasn’t part of it.”
“Are you disappointed?” I asked.
He frowned. “No, I think this gives me a place to start. A clue I didn’t have before. And for that I’m grateful.” He rubbed the back of his head and turned to look at the setting sun.
“We should make camp for the night. Are we safe here? So close to the thorns.”
I nodded. “We’re safe tonight. The basajaun will guard us while we sleep.”
Liam looked over his shoulder and searched the tree line. “You trust him?”
“I do.”
“You did a good thing healing him, then.”
“No, I did the right thing.”
Liam silently nodded. “Get some rest. I will tell the men of our plan. Tomorrow, you and I will attempt to enter the thorn forest.” Liam patted my shoulder.
I sighed, knowing that rest would not come easy.
Instead of sleeping, I spent the next candle mark walking through camp worrying about all the lives that were lost. For all lives mattered, fae, human, and even the halflings. Baist and Florin were the less accepting of the fae kind, and they avoided those kingdoms altogether. Rya, Isla, and a few others lived in a precarious balance with the fae, each their own society existing within each other. The humans obeyed the king while the fae had their own nobles in the fae courts. The only difference was that the fae courts could shift and move between realms and kingdoms.
I wandered into a grove of untouched willow trees and spread out my bedroll under the canopy of the long green branches and tried to block out the thoughts of the men.
I can’t sleep. This is most definitely a trap. The beast will kill us as soon as I close my eyes.
Rolling over, I tucked my arm under my head and pressed my palm to my ear, hoping to ease the pressure.
I think the girl is in league with the fae. She’s plotting to destroy us all.
After many hours, their thoughts finally settled as one by one the men fell asleep and I drifted off.
My dreams were tormented by the echo of emotions that remained in the land. The memories of the dryads and their last dying breaths. Their screams like breaking branches. The fairies as they tried to escape the smoke and flames, and the basajaunak fighting bravely, hurling rocks from the cliffs on the soldiers below, the female falling to their poisoned iron swords and arrows.