War of the Seasons, book two: The Half-blood

“Spring has something of mine; he knows what it is.” She smiled coldly. “I need you to bring it to me.” “And why would I do that?” Story folded her arms over her chest. A branch from the sidhe’s hair glided out in front of her, bearing a single, small acorn. “Because I poisoned Eírnin.” One of the tattoos on her shoul...