Page 30 of Twin Crowns

Until, suddenly, she wasn’t.

Wren’s fingers sped up, her hands blurring along the keys.Oh no.Her heartbeat galloped, and so did the melody, the notes veering off tune and out of sync until it sounded like the drumbeat of battle. And still her fingers quickened. The melody grew louder, the wooden pins making a violent percussion with every strike.

Wren stared at her fingers in horror.

The enchantment was failing.

Ansel, still draped over the lid, was trying his best to nod along.

Tor was so close, Wren could hear his stifled laughter.

Elske had awakened and was howling as if she were in physical pain.

“RIVER SPIDER!” Wren tore her hands from the keys and leaped to her feet. The bench tipped over in a clatter. “Help! Somebody, HELP!”

Ansel rushed into action, rounding the piano and scouring the keys. “Where, my flower? Point him out and he shall be swiftly beheaded!”

Wren pointed vaguely at the piano. “There! Underneath! Oh, what an eight-legged scoundrel. He’shuge!”

Ansel got down on his hands and knees to inspect the legs of the pianoforte.

Tor remained unmoving. “River spiders are harmless, Your Highness.”

“Easy foryouto say,” wailed Wren. “I... I once swallowed one in my sleep and... and... nearly choked to death!”

“Flipping frost!” cried Ansel. “How awful!”

Wren sniffed. “It was the scariest moment of my life.”

Tor raised a questioning brow.

Wren ignored him. Elske was sniffing about her skirts. She pushed the wolf away. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I must retire. It’s the trauma. I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh no, what a shame.” Ansel wilted. On his knees under the piano, he looked as if he was about to propose. Again. “I hate to see you go so soon.”

“And I hate to leave you.” Wren dipped into a hasty curtsy. She bolted from the room, her feet hitting the stone passageway with a clatter. Elske followed her out. The wolf nipped at her drawstring pouch, pulling it loose. Wren turned around to wrestle it free, but the bag was already in the wolf’s mouth.

“Hissing seaweed.”She crouched, clicking her teeth. “Good girl. Give it back, please.”

Elske shook her head. Ortha sand spilled out onto the stones. Wrencrawled toward her, swiping at the pouch. “Here, wolfy wolfy.”

A shadow fell across her.

Tor whistled through his teeth. “Elske,release.”

Elske dropped the pouch. Wren snatched it, just as the wolf’s paw came down on it. The string snapped, releasing a shower of sand everywhere.

“No, no, no.” Wren tried to catch the grains, but they sifted through her fingers, turning dull and brassy on the stone floor.

Elske sneezed.

Wren cursed.

“What is that?” said Tor, bending down.

Wren retrieved the empty pouch and scrabbled to her feet. “Nothing that concerns you.”

He gathered the grains on his finger, his brows drawing close. “It’s sand....” He snapped his chin up. “Why do you carry sand with you?”

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