A Plague of Shadows (11 page)

Finally she was released. Rorick and Leona stood staring at the person who had just had a tight grip on her.

“I wish people would stop calling me harbinger,” Abagail muttered, straightening her shirt. “I have a name, it’s Abagail Bauer.”

“Well, whoever you are,” the woman said, stepping around Abagail and making her way to the door. “Shut up.”

The woman had long blond hair that almost glowed. Her skin was pale enough to be the color of milk, and her eyes, when she looked back at Abagail, were the brightest blue she’d ever seen. The dress she wore was like luminescent sea foam.

Abagail was going to comment on the woman’s rudeness when she heard strange voices coming from beyond the door.

“The God Slayer is close, Gorjugan,” a voice wafted through the thick door. It was oddly undulated, almost echoing as if across a great distance, or through some kind of glass. The newcomer pressed herself against the door, easing against it so she didn’t make any noise.

Abagail eased forward as well, her feet picking their way across the floor in case the wooden planks protested her weight.

“You can feel it Hilda?” a man asked. He sounded closer, aged somehow. His voice was odd, lisping almost as if the human words didn’t fit well with his mouth. It was a cold voice that sent tremors down Abagail’s spine. She flashed a glance toward the radiant woman they’d just met, she seemed to recognize the name.

“Yes, it is here now, closer to our reach than ever before. We need it, Gorjugan,” the hollow voice said. “If we are ever to free Anthros, we
need
the God Slayer. We will never be able to get close to Anthros, not with Heimdall in the way.”

“Heimdall?” Leona whispered.

Rorick nodded, his eyebrows knitting together with concern.

Abagail wasn’t concerned with any of this. Why should she be? This wasn’t her home, this was Agaranth, a completely different
world
than her own. She didn’t listen to the logical side of her brain that said with Heimdall gone, there wouldn’t be anyone to stand watch of Eget Row, and who knew what could come and go between the worlds, unchecked, if he wasn’t around.

“He will raise the warning before we have a chance,” the voice addressed as Gorjugan said.

“He’s watching all of the Nine Worlds,” Hilda said. “Likely he knows what’s coming. He will sound the alarm whether we come for Anthros or not.”

“You are in charge, sister,” Gorjugan said, a note of true submission in his voice.

“Yes, scry out the whereabouts of the God Slayer. We need it. Hunt it down. We don’t have long. Already the All Father is suspecting. If we aren’t ready before Heimdall sounds the horn of winter, we will never be prepared for the attack.”

The voices drew to a close, and the sound of footsteps told Abagail whoever belonged to the voices were parting ways. She edged closer to the doorknob, and placed her hand on the handle.

“You can’t go out there!” the newcomer spun her around and gripped at Abagail’s arms. “It’s not
safe!”

“But this is my family’s home, I have to go out there! I have to get rid of this,” Abagail indicated her afflicted hand. The blond woman looked down at the palm and recoiled only slightly.

“Those people are looking for the God Slayer, doesn’t that alarm you?” the woman asked. She wasn’t as young as Abagail initially thought, though she couldn’t tell precisely how old the woman was.

Abagail didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. Yes, it concerned her that they were looking for something called the God Slayer. Yes it concerned her that they were talking about doing in Heimdall. But honestly, she didn’t know Heimdall all that well, maybe he deserved it.

“And didn’t you recognize those names? Gorjugan, Hilda, Anthros?” the woman asked her.

“I didn’t even recognize the name God Slayer.” Abagail shook her head.

“The God Slayer is some kind of weapon that is strong enough to
kill
the Gods!” The newcomer said. “But just the name should be enough to alarm you into staying put.”

“What about those names you mentioned?” Rorick asked. “Anthros, Hilda, and Gorjugan.”

“You’ve never heard of them?” she turned her cornflower blue eyes on Rorick.

He shook his head. “I’ve heard of Gorjugan, he’s some kind of snake that surrounds the lake, Elivigar, at Eget Row, but I don’t recognize the others.”

“They are harbingers of darkness. They are the
most
powerful harbingers of darkness.”

Luna fluttered down and landed on the woman’s shoulder. The lady didn’t seem to notice past a glance.

“But then my family might be in danger,” Abagail said, jerking away from the woman. “I have to go out there and save them.”

“You
can’t
!” the woman urged, reaching for Abagail again.

“How can we even be sure this is the right place?” Leona asked.

Abagail had little control over her actions. Almost against her will she held up her afflicted hand. She wasn’t really sure
why
she did it, but there was a boiling anger inside of her that seemed to take over. This woman
wasn’t
going to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. This was her family in question, in danger, and though she’d never met them, they were the only chance she had of ever controlling this darkness and going back home. She was away from home now, she didn’t need to take orders from anyone, least of all a stranger.

But there was still some other part of her that almost
wanted
to run into these two, Gorjugan and Hilda. She couldn’t understand it, if it wanted to save her family, or if it wanted to deliver her into their hands.

Abagail felt the power in her hand, slither around like a snake. The shadow plague crept up her wrist, slipped up between her fingers, and painted the back of her hand in a spider web of darkness.

“You won’t stop me,” Abagail said.

“Abbie?” Leona whispered, pressing herself back into the corner beside a black mirror that must have been where they came from. She held Skuld tightly to her chest.

“But I will,” Rorick said. He placed himself between Abagail and the new woman. He held the hammer in his hands, clutched before him like he actually meant to use it on her. “You told me before that if the darkness started taking over, to kill you.”

Abagail faltered. Her hand lowered a fraction of an inch. Would he really do this to her? Would Rorick really kill her?

“We don’t have a choice!” Abagail said, her hand wavering lower. “I have to learn to control this. I have to see my aunt!”

“I don’t have any choice. If this is how you plan on going, then the darkness has already reached your heart and it’s already out of your control. I can’t live with you as a darkling,” Rorick said. His eyes were damp. He didn’t want to strike out at her, but she knew just then that the oath he’d sworn to her had been real to him. He wouldn’t let another loved one be lost to the shadows.

Abagail lowered her arm and cast her eyes to the floor. Heat flushed her cheeks.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “But I have to see my Aunt. I have to talk to her, learn to control this before it becomes too much.”

“Isn’t that what you just did?” the woman asked. “Didn’t you just control the power?”

Did I?
she wondered. She’d stopped the will of the shadow, but it wasn’t anything she’d done consciously. It had taken over, and it wasn’t until she read the pain in Rorick’s eyes that she’d been able to stop the darkness.

“Did I?” she asked them, peering at each one of them.

“That’s what it looked like,” Leona said, coming forward once more. She sounded nearly overjoyed that Abagail had warded off the darkness this time.

But I must have tapped into it,
Abagail thought, looking at the webbing of darkness over her skin.

“The other one is right, you don’t know this is even the place you seek,” the new woman said.

“But Heimdall sent us here,” Rorick argued. “He said Mattelyn Bauer, and then we stepped through.”

The other woman was already shaking her head. “That doesn’t mean anything. The darklings have been in control here for a long time, all wyrd is in flux at the moment. Just because that’s where he indicated you should go, doesn’t mean that’s where you went.” She held out her hand. “I’m Celeste,” she said. “I already know you’re Abagail.”

Rorick and Leona introduced themselves.

“Now, if it’s controlling the shadow plague that you need to do, I know of some people who’ve learned to do just that,” Celeste said.

“Harbingers of light?” Leona asked.

Celeste nodded. “The going won’t be easy, but we should start out now, before that voice comes back.”

“I agree,” Rorick said, strategically placing himself between Abagail and the door.

Celeste turned toward the floor to ceiling window. It was only as she was unlatching the window and pushing it open did Abagail see the golden scepter on her back. It was much more like it was made of ice, or crystal than it was made of gold, but it shined with a light like that of the sun. Her hand itched to take the weapon, to feel its cool warmth on her flesh.

“We make for those trees, which marks the beginning of the Fey Forest. I would warn that we stay on the trail at all times, darklings rule the forest, but Singer’s Trail has been warded, protected.”

They all stepped closer to the window, Abagail giving one final look behind her to the door that led out into the house.

“You need a glove,” Celeste said. “I’ve seen one around here.” She started riffling around in the room and then, near the fireplace, she came up with a weathered, hardened work glove. “It’s not that pliable, but it will work. Put it on your hand,” Celeste said, handing the rough garment to Abagail.

Abagail slipped her fingers into the glove, which was too big for her, and the instant the shadow plague was out of eyesight, she felt better.

“There, now you can’t infect us,” Rorick said with a smile.

“I guess not,” Abagail agreed.

“Now, we must leave,” Celeste said, stepping down out of the window and into the depths of the snow.

Abagail turned back and cast a glance at the doorway as Leona jumped down into the knee-deep snow. Rorick stood behind her, no doubt positioning himself there so that Abagail couldn’t bolt and look through the door.

“I just want to see,” she told him.

“We’re strangers here,” he said. “We don’t know anything about this world. I think it’s best that we follow the advice of someone who does.” He nodded toward the retreating form of Celeste.

Abagail sighed, and flexed her fingers inside the glove. There was dirt in the tips of the fingers. Not a lot, but it was enough to make her skin crawl wondering what kind of debris would be wedged under her nails when she took the gloves off. “You’re right,” she said, and then stepped down into the deep snow.

Celeste no longer wore the scepter on her back. She held it clasped in her right hand, and with her left she was gesturing wildly. Leona was laughing at her, but it was muted to the point that Abagail could barely hear it over the wind.

“If it’s so important that we sneak out of here, let’s hope that whoever’s inside the house doesn’t hear those two carrying on,” Abagail muttered. Rorick smirked at her and pulled the window shut behind them.

“What I want to know is how in the world she’s walking through all of this snow with that dress and it’s not bothering her?” Rorick wondered as the two of them picked up a pace behind Leona and Celeste. They placed their feet in the holes already created by the two ahead of them so the going was a bit easier on them.

“She doesn’t seem human,” Abagail told him. Though the going was easier using the holes already created, she was still winded easily, as if the air was lighter than what it had been on O.

“I noticed that too,” Rorick said. “What do you think she is?”

Abagail frowned. “I hate that everything I’ve considered myth for so long is suddenly much realer than I could ever have guessed. If I had to say she was something other than human, I would think she was an elf.”

Rorick nodded as if that’s what he had been thinking as well. The wind whipped violently, blowing snow up into their eyes, and for a time they struggled through the squall not talking.

By the time the squall’s howl whispered out and the snow was settling around them they were standing before the Fey Forest.

“Now, remember what I said,” Celeste said. Luna fluttered down to land on the woman’s shoulder. “This is a place controlled by the darkling, but where we venture is on the other side of this forest. Stick to the path, no matter how many things try to lure you away.”

“Will there be a lot that tries to lure us away?” Leona wondered.

“A fair amount. The darkling can’t reach you while you’re on the path, only when you enter the woods. It will try everything in its power to lure you away. Don’t trust it. We will have the sun scepter for guidance, as well as Daphne,” Celeste said.

“Who’s Daphne?” Abagail wondered. Luna fluttered up off Celeste’s shoulder and swirled through the air a few times before Abagail. “Oh.”

“Well, we were right, at least it is a she!” Leona said triumphantly.

“How could you ever be wrong about that?” Celeste said, leading them all closer to the forest. She tapped her finger against the scepter. The action brought about a ringing in the object, and the yellowed light pulsed a little brighter, illuminating the snowy path inside the trees. Again, Abagail wanted nothing more than to take the scepter form her. Something about the shadow plague called out to the sun scepter, as if it were an ointment to some malignant burn. She clenched her fist tighter inside the glove.

“We don’t have butterflies like her on O,” Rorick supplied.

“Oh, Daphne is certainly not a butterfly,” Celeste said, and then chuckled. Daphne pulsed violet in time with Celeste’s laughter as if the winged being was laughing as well.

“She’s a pixie,” Abagail said. Some part of her knew that, likely it had always known that even though she’d previously thought the creature was a fairy.

“Very good,” Celeste said. “One wonders how she got to O.”

“Through the mirror,” Abagail said. “She came through the same way we got here.”