The Secret of Dreadwillow Carse Read Online Free PDF

left.
What about me?
Aon thought.
    â€œYou will be cared for,” her father assured her. “And I will always love you.”
    â€œWill I see you again?” It was the only thing she could think to ask.
    Father held her chin up so their eyes met. “Aon, the greatest thing that can happen to us is here now. You
will
be happy, I promise.”
    He hadn’t answered her question.
    Aon tied her last strand of purple ribbon to her father’s crutch. She needed to know he’d have
one
reminder of her. Then she kissed him on the cheek as the Hoods led him away.
    The revelry grew louder as Aon’s father passed their neighbors, limping and waving. Aon barely noticed when Mrs. Grandwyn took her hand and led her to the house across the street. She had seen this happen before. If the Crimson Hoods claimed a family’s provider, a neighbor would take in the rest of the family. No questions were asked. No tears were shed. Emberfell took care of its own.
    Aon felt it immediately. Once the Hoods turned the corner, once her father was out of sight, everything returned to normal on their street. No more words were spoken about Aon’s father. Later tonight, at the bonfire, it would be as if he had never been there. Jackdaw Fen would perform, now as a duo. From here on out, Aon Greenlaw would always have been a member of the Grandwyn family. The wound left behind by Aon’s father’s exit would be closed just that quickly.
    And life—the life they all knew and loved and embraced and never questioned—would go on.

Chapter Five

    AFTER FOUR DAYS WITH SKONAS, JENIAH HAD AR RIVED AT A conclusion: Her first duty as queen would be passing a law with severe penalties for anyone who answered a question with another question.
    That was all her new teacher seemed able to do. When she asked him how best to settle a dispute between land owners, he would ask, “Why do you suppose land owners argue?” When she asked the proper way to host dignitaries from across the Monarchy, he would ask, “Are you sure there’s just one proper way?” This went on from sunrise to sundown. He’d imparted no lessons since that first one:
You are your own best teacher
.
    Jeniah went to bed each night, furious that she wasn’t any closer to learning how to be queen than before Skonas had arrived. She didn’t
know
how to be her own best teacher. She would stare at the canopy over her bed, trying to figure out why her mother had selected this odd man to be her tutor. While she believed Skonas to be a fool, she knew her mother wasn’t, not by any means.
    Three times a day, Jeniah joined the queen at her bedside for meals. Her mother would ask, “How are your lessons with Skonas?” And Jeniah would report, “Fine.” She was reluctant to admit that she didn’t understand what her tutor was doing. Nor would she admit that she didn’t know why the queen had chosen him. Queens—even future queens—she reasoned, should know these things. So Jeniah hid her ignorance and prayed she’d figure it out.
    Every day, she would meet Skonas in the library after breakfast. They would stare at each other silently across the table. She waited for him to give her an order, set her a lesson. Most often, he took out a pair of knitting needles and began to craft what Jeniah could only guess was a sock for his lengthy beard.
    When she could take it no longer, she’d collect some books and continue searching for information about the Carse. All the while, Skonas simply sat there—knitting and humming a peculiar tune he’d been humming for hours on end, day after day—until Jeniah asked a question about something she’d read.
    And then he would answer with a question.
    On the fifth day, Jeniah stopped going to the library. She didn’t see the point. When Sirilla, the lady’s maid who helped the princess dress each morning, came to her chambers, Jeniah flatly