The Sallow Spindle

By Erin Evans

Book Three: Beaupomme is recovering from the upir’s reign and it’s up to Morgan, Fenris, and Kli to convince Grimhilde to return and take her rightful place as queen. However, a plague of zombies is moving across the land and the only hope of stopping them is a dangerous trek to a foreign kingdom to discover the source of the curse. Morgan faces her deadliest challenge ever and must decide which realm is truly her home.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erin Evans
• Release date: Sep 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370227075

Erin Evans

Erin Evans is a stay-at-home mom of eight (!), wonderful, little children. When she's not chasing after children, changing diapers, teaching school, cooking, chauffeuring, or potty training, she is writing, playing drums at her church or crashed out dead asleep. In urban fantasy, she loves Charlaine Harris, Patricia Briggs, and Kim Harrison. All time favorite authors would be Robin Hobb and Jasper Fforde. Jim Butcher's Codex Alera has become one of her favorite series. BOOKS: - In her first series, "The Rhine Maiden", Erin based her character Piper Cavanaugh on her own life, but decided to have pity on Piper and only gave her two kids to start off with. - Erin's latest work, the "Pernicious Princess Trilogy" is a take on twisted fairy tales. - Her other works include "Food For Love", a foodie romantic comedy with a twist.

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Book Three

by Erin Evans

Copyright 2014 by Erin Evans

Smashwords Edition

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Immediately upon her touching them they all fell asleep, that they might not awake before their mistress and that they might be ready to wait upon her when she wanted them.

"The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood," by Charles Perrault

Chapter One

The fighting had gone on for hours. Literally hours. Not the good, clean sort of fighting that pitted strength against strength and could only be sustained for a short period of time. No, this was the fighting of politics, of maneuvering for position, of mule-headed obstinacy.

In a way, it was all my fault. I’d killed Duke Iliescu, an evil vampire, or rather, upir, as they called them here. I wasn’t sorry for killing him. In fact, for a while it had been touch and go as to which of us would come out still standing in the end. Luckily for me, I’d had a nice, sharp, apple wood stake to plant in his heart, which in hindsight had been overkill. An apple stem had been enough to finish off Bianca, the princess of Beaupomme, who Iliescu had turned to a life of blood drinking and sun aversion.

The two of them had given the land over to the dwarves in exchange for their help in murdering the king, chasing off the queen, enslaving the humans, and generally just taking over the kingdom. The dwarves had, wisely, questioned the stability of said arrangement and had settled for strip-mining the land as quickly as possible before everything fell apart.

That’s when I had arrived and fixed everyone’s problems with some aggressive diplomacy. My favorite sort. None of this waffling and pontificating. I preferred things to be straight to the point, as in the point of my sword.

Iliescu and Bianca were dead. The humans were freed and all the fighting was over. Time to write a big Happily Ever After on the whole messed-up story and move on. In fact, I greatly wished that I had done just that.

But no, I had stuck around to see how everything worked out and now that was exactly what I was: stuck.

You would think that as the godmother, gifted with amazing powers of magic, I would be excused from tedious, boring meetings where each person tried to speak for longer and use bigger words than the person in front of them. But, for some reason, my presence was requested by both the humans and the dwarves. They thought I could play the part of a disinterested third party and make fair and balanced judgments. Of course, in order to be really fair and balanced I would necessarily be agreeing with their side. Any time I ruled in favor of the other side, I was immediately accused of favoritism, racism, and stupidity. No one came flat out and said those things, I was still the scary godmother, but it was respectfully implied.

It was a thankless job, which was why I quit listening around about the time that Baron Ironfist, one of the dwarves who was slowly learning to get along with the humans, stood up for the fifth time to complain about a farmer’s irrigation system flooding his mines. No amount of reasoning would convince the humans to move their canals, or the dwarves to install pumps, or hey, while we’re being totally crazy, both.

I decided that this was the perfect time to work on my magic. Thrown into this magical realm, I’d been muddling along the best I could, picking up a bit of magical control here and there, and mostly relying on dumb luck to see me through. Luck was all well and good, but being able to control my abilities would be better, for me and for everyone else.

For example, if I really knew what I was doing, I might be able to mind wipe every dwarf and human at the table and force them to get along and behave! I thought about how much fun that would be for a while and then sighed. Even if I knew how to do it, I didn’t think that I had the right to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Plus, I’d seen enough evil mind control that even the thought of it gave me the chills. I didn’t want to wind up like Godmother Bonificent, the lady I’d killed. If I’d known that chopping off her head would give me her powers maybe I would have thought twice.

Nah. She had it coming. She’d killed my father and eaten his heart. Decapitation was letting her off easy. Not to mention the fact that the portal she’d opened between realms had trapped me here, far from home. And to make matters worse, the only instructions she’d left on opening portals were written in an indecipherable code. If you’re going to be evil, you should at least have the courtesy to blog about your exploits in English.

So, did I feel bad about killing her and taking her powers? No. I felt bad that I didn’t know how to use them. Sort of like giving a Stradivarius to a two-year-old. But that didn’t mean that my powers were completely useless. At that very moment I was constructing an invisible soundproof barrier that completely muted out the squabbling politicians. Keeping a look of benign interest plastered on my face, I circled my body with energy until all the yelling and pontificating was inaudible and all that was left were red faces, open mouths, and shaking fists.

This was much better. I watched Baron Halfaxe, another dwarf, jump on top of the table and wave his battle axe in Seneschal Malbert’s, human face. His mouth, mostly hidden in a heavy beard, opened and closed like a goldfish, while his eyebrows shot up and down.

I started to fill in the silence with my own dialogue.

How dare you accuse me of not flossing? I translated as the Baron bared his teeth and waved both fists in the air. I floss every day! He jabbed his battle axe again at Seneschal Malbert. In fact, I use this battle axe right here to do it!

Malbert used the tips of two fingers to move the blade away from his face, somehow managing to look down his nose at the dwarf who, standing on the table, was towering above him.

This battle axe? I imagined Malbert saying. He used the side of his flattened palm to tap on his other hand. I wouldn’t use that battle axe to chop carrots!

Kli, my only true friend among the dwarves, came running over. Since she had risked everything to rescue me from the upir, fought side by side with the humans, and still remained loyal to the dwarves, she had been the obvious choice as liaison between the two races. Just as heavily bearded as the male dwarves, the only visible evidence of her femininity was her slightly smaller height to girth ratio.

She was holding a stack of papers in her hand and jabbing at them with a pen. Quit attacking each other, I translated as she yelled something. This is the real enemy! We must stab every word before it escapes!

Halfaxe ripped a sheet out of her hand and tore it to shreds. No! This is the way to defeat the evil documents!

Malbert leaped up and snatched the remaining papers, cradling them to his chest. They’re not evil! They are my precious darlings!

There was a melodious ping that bounced off my soundproof barrier. I turned to see Fenris, my giant, wolf-beast companion, watching me. We’d hit it off at our first meeting, after I’d tried to kill him. He’d helped me rescue a lost child and then moved in, teaching me how to fight and survive in this crazy world, and keeping me sane with his friendship. We shared a mind link through our magic that allowed us to communicate telepathically. This was a good time for even more practice! I opened up a molecular small hole in my energy and sent out a mental connection to the giant beast.

:What’s up?: I asked.

:You’re making faces: he told me.

I realized that he was right. My face was moving to express the emotions of the words I was creating. I probably looked like a blithering idiot.

I grinned. :A girl’s got to entertain herself somehow:

The N’jeri stretched out to his full impressive length on the ground and yawned. He was as bored with the proceedings as I was, but, wolf-like, had the ability to accept the present and sleep until things got more interesting.

:And are you entertaining yourself?: he asked.

:Yes: I smiled, a little puzzled that he asked the question.

:Are you ready for this to be over?:

I was growing confused. :Yes: I said, unable to keep my head from nodding while I thought the word.

The wolf pulled his lips back and gave me a laughing grin. :Maybe you should pay better attention to what’s going on around you:

I frowned and looked around the table, shocked to see every head in the room turned to me. Malbert was rubbing his hands together and smiling, while even the dwarves looked as pleased as their dour, beard-hidden faces could express.

I dropped my sound barrier at once and caught the last part of Seneschal Malbert’s words. —that you have accepted!

He beamed at me in a fatherly way and, encouraging the rest of the assembly to join in, started to clap.

Umm, my eyes darted from face to face, trying to piece together what had just happened without looking like an idiot.

:Too late for that: Fenris told me, his tail beating twice on the ground.

I couldn’t read minds, but it was clear that I had just agreed to something. Fenris’ earlier questions had been a set-up. I’d smiled and nodded and had approved something that I hadn’t been paying attention to.

When shall you start? Seneschal Malbert asked.

Start, I echoed in a faint voice. Umm … I glared at Fenris. :What did I just say yes to?: I demanded.

He stared back without blinking.

Dwarves and humans were watching me with expectant eyes, awaiting my answer. I decided to bluff. Ah … these things take time, I improvised, trying to read the faces for clues.

Yes, indeed, Baron Ironfist grunted, which is why the sooner you leave the sooner we will have a queen again.

A queen, I repeated, the pieces starting to fall into place. After killing Princess Bianca, the people of Beaupomme had asked me to be their queen, a position which I respectfully declined. I didn’t even want to be the godmother. I’d sooner die than mince around in fancy clothes and jewelry having everyone bob and bow to me. Not to mention that if I had to sit through another one of these meetings I would probably start jabbing apple stems in my own eye.

I suggest that you leave at once, Malbert said, looking pleased.

At once, I said, seemingly unable to say anything other than repeat what had just been said.

That is done then, Baron Halfaxe said, pounding his fist on the table. The other dwarves began to pound as well while the humans clapped.

We are grateful, Lady Godmother, Seneschal Malbert told me. Kli will see that you have everything you need for your journey.

Quickly the meeting was adjourned and the room emptied, leaving me to sit, bewildered, at the table and wonder how I managed to get myself into these situations.

A huge, furry head nuzzled under my arm and I gave Fenris a scratch behind the ears. Did I just agree to what I think I just agreed to? I asked with a loud sigh.

:You really shouldn’t tune out what people are saying: the huge wolf told me, cocking one ear forward.

You tricked me into saying yes, I said, tugging lightly on the ear.

He leaned into me so that I could scratch the other side. :It was a life lesson: his eyes closed in bliss.

We have to go convince Grimhilde to come back to Beaupomme, I said, hoping for a moment that I had read the entire situation wrong and what I had really agreed to was something simple, like create world peace, or cheap energy.

I’d met Grimhilde up in the mountains that bordered Beaupomme. At the time, I’d thought she was a rather eccentric and cranky witch who had sourly agreed to train me. She’d spent most of the training time trying to kill me with various impossible exercises and hadn’t been thrilled when I finally started to make progress. She’d been less thrilled when I discovered that she was really the rightful queen of Beaupomme, forced from the country by her upir turned step-daughter.

I’d tried to convince the witch to return and help fight Princess Bianca, but she’d refused. She had given me the apple wood stake I’d used to kill Duke Iliescu, a cutting from the last of Beaupomme’s magical apple trees that Grimhilde had rescued from destruction and was tending in the mountains, but she had made it very clear that she was not coming back to Beaupomme. If I had agreed to bring her back to be queen, I was in for some trouble.

:No: Fenris said, making me take a deep breath of relief. :You have to convince the witch: he smashed my hopes. :I’m just along for the ride:

Chapter Two

Life wasn’t fair. It felt like ages since I’d been able to relax, enjoy the scenery, and sleep in a comfortable bed. I’d gone from hunting down vicious rat-men, to training with Grimhilde, to traveling back to Truitonne and then to Beaupomme, back to Grimhilde, and then, on foot, once again to Beaupomme.

I was ready to stay in one place. I wanted to hang my clothes up in a wardrobe, take a bath every day, eat three square meals, and get through a whole twenty-four hours without someone trying to kill me. It didn’t seem like a lot to ask.

I’m the godmother, for crying out loud! I complained, kicking the wooden bedpost.

Fenris, used to my moods, ignored me, stretched out in front of the suite’s furnace. He kept his eyes tightly closed and pretended to sleep.

I clambered over him, intentionally jostling his furry body, and made a big show of loudly stoking the furnace. Under Bianca Nieve’s rule, the dwarves had strip-mined Beaupomme. Trees were almost non-existent but coal was plentiful. I banged the shovel on the iron door a couple of times before slamming it shut.

I’m not some errand boy, I said, pushing Fenris’ tail out of the way.

His eyes still shut, he growled softly.

I stomped around the room, opening and shutting cabinet doors as forcefully as I could. The N’jeri didn’t even lift his head. I decided that the furnace needed some more attention, but as my hand touched the handle, a massive jaw full of sharp teeth closed on my arm. I froze and looked down into one open yellow eye. Fenris gave a beat with his tail, not breaking my gaze, and then relaxed again. I got the point.

I don’t want to go, I whined, realizing that I sounded like a spoiled child.

Fenris opened one eye again, gave me a look, and closed it.

I slumped cross-legged to the floor and poked at the tiny rocks stuck in the leather sole of my boot. I knew I was antsy. I wasn’t used to being in one place for so long. Ever since coming to this crazy place I’d been doing something, fighting, traveling, training, running for my life. Sure, not all positive things, and I wasn’t saying that I was an adrenaline junky who craved danger, but I felt … useless. And when I felt useless, I felt like I didn’t belong. And when I felt like I didn’t belong, I wanted to go home. And that was the problem. Because I couldn’t.

I kept telling myself that the answer was in Cinderella’s old library, where her godmother Bonificent had kept some of her books, filled with currently indecipherable text. All I had to do was decode the words, learn the language, and voila! I’d be back home. But I knew I was lying to myself. I was probably closer to flying to the moon than I was to being able to read those books. And unless I was willing to spend some major time, as in years, in the library, working it out … well, while I was being honest with myself I might as well admit that I didn’t have that kind of patience, no matter what the reward might be in the end.

So, I fidgeted, and whined, and tried to provoke Fenris into fighting with me. Just to break up the monotony. But the annoying beast refused to respond and that just made me more frustrated, and ashamed of myself. It wasn’t fair to him, but sometimes I just couldn’t help myself.

I was getting ready to apologize when there was a knock at the door. Fenris didn’t even twitch.

Oh, no, let me get it, I said, making a face. You just keep on resting right there. Don’t trouble yourself.

He flicked one ear.

I sighed. It was getting so boring around here that I didn’t even have the heart to keep poking at him. Next thing I knew I’d be picking up knitting or something, just to pass the time.

I pulled open the heavy oak door and my mouth dropped open in surprise.

Your Highness, I said, dropping into something that I hoped looked like a curtsey, but probably just looked like an awkward knee bend.

Godmother Morgan, he smiled, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling.

The prince of Truitonne had been married to the demon Cinderella, whom I’d killed. Her thrall on him and the people was broken with her death and the prince and I were on somewhat friendly, if professional, terms. He’d sent me to check out a prospective bride, who’d turned out to be Bianca, whom I’d also killed. It was starting to be an alarming pattern and made things a bit strained between us. We couldn’t get away from the fact that I’d watched him act like a mindless thrall and had killed his wife and then his fiancé. Awkward.

The prince had come to Beaupomme under Bianca’s command, but after being freed, had stayed to help out with the peace negotiations. They were short on royalty and grateful for the help.

None of which explained why he was standing in my doorway. I’d been summoned tons of times, but never visited by the man himself.

I didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t covered this in any of the etiquette books I’d ever read. Okay. So I’d never read an etiquette book, but if I had I was pretty sure that it didn’t cover royalty showing up unexpected.

Won’t you come in? I asked, stepping away from the door and realizing with a sinking heart that I had left a pair of muddy boots on the foyer table, an assortment of wooden practice weapons strewn about the floor, and tufts of fur on the carpet from where I had just brushed the mats out of Fenris’ coat.

I was actually hoping that you would take a walk with me, the prince said, one eyebrow rising as he took in the mess behind me.

I flushed and ran a hand through my hair, hoping that it wasn’t the tangled mess that I suspected it to be.

Um … I said.

I cannot sit through one more meeting, he confessed with a smile. I thought to enjoy the fresh air and perhaps your company.

I smiled in return. He looked much more relaxed than I had ever seen him before. Maybe most of the tension between us was due to my own misplaced guilt. After all, Cinderella and Snow White had been monsters who deserved to die, and whatever feelings he had felt for them had been forced on him by their magic.

I glanced back over my shoulder at the sleeping N’jeri. He could probably use some exercise as well.

:Go: I heard Fenris grumble. :Then maybe I can get some peace and quiet:

Okay, I said, stepping forward.

The prince’s smile faltered for a moment.

What? I asked. Did I say something wrong?

No, he recovered. I assumed that you would want to change into walking clothes, but it is no matter.

I looked down at my linen shirt, leather vest and pants, and knee high boots. My clothing was travel-stained yet clean. Sturdy and practical. Perfect for riding horses, running through the woods, climbing cliffs, and sword fighting. Not what your average court lady would wear to take a stroll with the crown prince.

I … umm … My hands suddenly felt huge and I didn’t know where to put them.

The prince gave me a low bow. Godmother Morgan, he said, your beauty and intelligence are more exquisite than the most jeweled gown in the kingdom. I would not have you alter a single thing.

Fenris let out a sharp bark. He was probably dreaming about something funny.

I cleared my throat in a pointed manner and deliberately stepped out the door without another word or look for the wolf. If he wanted to laze about all day long that was his deal. I wasn’t his babysitter. I could have a life all on my own.

I was feeling pretty full of myself until a thought hit me. If I ever succeeded in deciphering the books to send me home, that’s exactly what I would have. A life all on my own.

Is there something wrong, my lady? the prince inquired, offering me his arm.

I swallowed hard and pasted a smile on my face. Nothing, Your Highness, I lied, sure that you did not dump your emotional problems on royalty.

Gingerly, worried about wrinkling the cloth, I placed my hand on top of the prince’s sleeve and tried to match my pace to his. It seemed to take all my concentration not to stumble or bump against him as we walked through the long castle hallways and out into the high-walled garden.

I could see people rushing up to speak to the prince and suddenly changing direction when they got a good look at his companion. I didn’t think I was that scary. Perhaps the prince was sending them a signal with his eyes that now was not a good time to disturb him. That was probably one of those lessons that you learned in Court Life 101. How to avoid being swamped by fawning courtiers and wearisome business matters. I should have taken that class.

The late afternoon sun was slanting over the wall and casting a golden light on the low bushes and plants that filled the garden. Here and there, evenly spaced along the crushed stone walks, there were baby trees growing, barely a foot tall and more like leaved twigs than actual trees. Still, there were probably more trees growing here than in the entire country.

I made a mental note to go and check on the apple trees I had planted. Fenris and I had ridden out several times and had finally managed to mark all the spots that I had buried one of the royal magical apples from Grimhilde’s tree. Each location was now protected with a low wooden fence and tended by the local farmers.

When Grimhilde had fled Beaupomme, she had taken with her the sole remaining royal apple tree. A tree that was somehow imbued with protective magical powers that acted like citronella. Except, instead of repelling mosquitoes, it kept more dangerous bloodsuckers away. Upir.

Something about the soil of Beaupomme, combined with the trees, worked its magic. Grimhilde had planted her tree in Truitonne, but had been unable to get any other seeds or cuttings to take root in the foreign soil. It had been her hope that the apples I buried in Beaupomme would grow into trees and begin to heal the country’s magical protection. I’d yet to see any sign of growth, but I kept checking and kept paying the farmers to tend the bare, rocky patches of ground.

Your thoughts are far away, my lady, the prince said, looking down on me.

He wasn’t tall, or even incredibly good-looking, just average. Average height, average looks, average build. I remembered how he had looked under Cinderella’s thrall, pale, weak, and insignificant. It made me happy to see that I had helped at least one person.

Sorry, I said, giving him a genuine smile. I was thinking about the apple trees.

Ah, he nodded. Has there been any growth?

I shook my head, lowering my hand since my arm was starting to tremble from the tension of keeping my hand on his arm without putting any pressure down. "Not yet, Your Highness, but I have no idea if that is normal, or even what should be normal for magical trees."

The prince turned down another path, our