Excerpt
In any of your stories is there an uncanny place?” Lucy asked. Graveyards where people see ghosts, hollows where people hear voices even when no ones around?”
Oh ho.” Anya chuckled. Stories like that are a penny a pound in Saarthe. But the stories your father most wanted to hear were about the Thumb.”
Lucy frowned at this. Whats that?”
Anya pressed her floury hand onto the table. This heres Saarthe.” She pointed to her palm and fingers. And this is Devils Thumb.”
The cooks broad brown knuckle jutted out into the snowy white flour.
Why is it the Devils?”
Anya wiped her hands. Her eyes held Lucys. Because its cursed.”