Mist Rising

by Eve Langlais

  “They are abominations that must be destroyed.”

  “Has no one ever tried reasoning with them?”

  He snorted. “There is no negotiating with monsters.”

  “How would you know? Has it been tried?”

  “Do you truly believe fighting is the King’s first choice?” Again with the sardonic query.

  “He’s got no problem doing other inhumane things.”

  The general snorted. “And here we go with you complaining about things you do not understand.”

  “At least I’m not blindly following orders.”

  “The King is doing his best.”

  “According to whom?”

  “Me. He’s a wise man. A caring man.”

  She snorted. “How would you know? After all, you have no other leader to compare him to. What makes you certain his decisions, his laws, are the best for everyone?”

  “Because the Kingdoms that lacked strong leadership fell before us to the rising mist.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Of all the answers she expected, the one the general knight offered blew her mind. “What other Kingdoms?” The claim he made had to be utter nonsense. There were no other lands, only King’s Valley and the Abyss. Nothing else.

  Unbidden, a recollection of an old map on the wall in the Ninth Shield Abbae catacombs rose to tease her. “There were thirteen Kingdoms,” she stated slowly, bringing to mind some of the finer details of the drawing. “But none of them were labeled King’s Valley—at least not that we could decipher.”

  “Did you read that in a book?”

  “Not exactly. It was a mural on a wall. We thought it some kind of mythical place.” She still did. Other places beyond the valley seemed too fantastical. “It showed a world without the Abyss. With lakes too big to be possible. And even an area with no green for grass or trees at all. Just shades of tan and brown as if it were all dirt.”

  “It’s called sand. And it gets into everything,” he muttered.

  She blinked. “You’re teasing.”

  He arched a brow, and his tone held wry humor as he replied, “Do I appear the joking sort?”

  Her lips pressed tightly. No, he didn’t. “Are you saying that mural was real?”

  “Was. Humans will never see that place again.”

  “What makes you say that?” she asked, turning a sharp glance in his direction.

  “Because ours is a past we can never recapture.” He leaped from the edge of the parapet where he’d been crouched. “We should return to the others.”

  “But I have questions.”

  “Of course, you do. Because I’ve said too much,” he complained.

  “More like you never say enough,” she huffed, walking quickly to keep up.

  “You expect a lot from someone you barely tolerate.”

  She could have lied, but that wasn’t Agathe. “You’re right, I don’t like you. You’re insufferably arrogant.”

  “So are you.”

  Her jaw snapped shut before she managed a gritted, “Rude.”

  “I would have called it truthful. And again, you have that same trait.” His flippant rebuttal.

  “You’re bossy.”

  He laughed in reply, the implication clear.

  Okay, perhaps she was a little bit. But one thing she didn’t do? “You obey blindly,” she accused.

  He paused and whirled to fix her with a stare. “Whereas you act without thinking.”

  “I do not!”

  “If you say so, then it must be true,” he mocked, throwing her words back in her face. “You don’t know me, and yet you judge me.”

  “Says the man doing the same.”

  He stared at her, meaning she couldn’t help but stare right back. His features were striking, especially since she so rarely got to see masculine faces with square jaws, hinting of shadow bristles. A hard set of lips. Sharp features and a fierce stare that roused something in her.

  Maric took a step in her direction and said in a low voice, “I know you better than you think. You are a fiercely loyal woman who would do anything for those she vows to protect. You rush into danger with no thought for yourself. You think you know so much, and yet in truth, you know nothing.”

  “Because you won’t tell me.”

  “Would you even listen if I did?”

  “Maybe.”

  He snorted and resumed walking. There was no more talk as they rejoined the group.

  The knight’s barked, “Let’s get moving,” saw everyone grabbing their belongings and falling into line.

  Hiix sidled close to Agathe. “You all right? Did he say something to you?”

  “He knows things about the mist and the Abyss.”

  “Really? Like what?”

  “He wouldn’t say.”

  “Wouldn’t?” Hiix chuckled. “And you didn’t gut him?”

  “He can’t talk if he’s dead.” A callous way to speak, especially since she’d only rarely killed actual people. Vhampirs with their human faces didn’t count.

  “Be careful how hard you push him.”

  “Afraid he’ll snap?”

  “He’s not a man quick to anger.”

  “I don’t see how asking him a few questions about the current situation would rouse his temper.”

  “Because you’re the one asking.” Hiix grimaced. “You’re not exactly genteel when it comes to dealing with him.”

  “You know I’m not fond of soldiers.”

  “I think everyone is aware by now. You might want to try subtlety.”

  “That’s akin to lying.”

  “It’s called being polite for the sake of peace,” Hiix exclaimed. “Not that hard a concept.”

  The rebuke stung, but it also caused Agathe to reflect on her actions. Perhaps she was a tad bit acerbic, and oddly enough, she’d swear Maric enjoyed it.

  “I think Venna’s waving for you.” She drew Hiix’s attention elsewhere.

  “Think about what I said. Don’t cause trouble,” her Maeder ordered before stomping ahead to join the Soraers.

  As the group started to move, Agathe planned to range ahead, scouting for danger. Only as she passed Xaav heading the pack did she realize the general knight didn’t lead.

  A glance back showed him bringing up the tail. A change from before. Had he seen or heard something?

  Shifting to the side, Agathe halted and let everyone pass. Hiix turned a questioning gaze on her and arched a brow. Agathe waved her on. She stood on the edge of the road in a spot where erosion had narrowed it. She glanced down and saw a fair distance before the mist obscured everything. It used to be a person could see all the way down to the Ninth Shield Abbae and even farther.

  Not anymore. Not for a long time. And if Maric could be believed, there used to be a time they could have seen to the bottom.

  She had to know more.

  Maric ignored her as she fell into step beside him. She dove right in, unable to let their conversation go. “Tell me about the other valleys and kingdoms.”

  For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t reply then a slow, “For one, they’re not all valleys. One isn’t even on a mountain. It fell first when the mist began spreading.”

  “How is it I’ve never heard of them? Not by rumor or even in a book.”

  “Why bother to learn about places that are lost?”

  “Did we used to be able to travel to them in the past?”

  “There was a time this entire world was free to roam. Back when the mist didn’t exist, before the monsters.”

  “Sounds like a fairy tale.”

  “You could say that. And we know how those end.”

  Badly.

  Rather than say that aloud, she instead asked, “Were the other lands like King’s Valley?”

  “That’s a rather broad question. If you’re asking if they had people, then yes. Towns and cities. Perhaps with different laws than here. It depended on the person ruling at the time.”

  “Let me guess, all men. It’s
sexist.”

  “More like practical. A Kingdom needs someone strong to maintain order and prosperity.”

  Agathe grumbled, “Women are just as capable of ruling as men.”

  “There are other reasons why the ruler has to be male.”

  “Name one.”

  “Because women aren’t fighters.”

  She snorted. “Says you. I’ve been doing well so far.”

  “There’s more to battling than swinging a sword.”

  “A good thing. Because, otherwise, our King would be in trouble. Rumor has it he’s not been seen in battle once.”

  “The King is busy with many matters.”

  “You’d think keeping his people safe would be the most important.”

  “That is the job of the Elite. We are the King’s sword.”

  “More like his henchmen, kidnapping young girls, ruining their lives.”

  “You know nothing of what you say.”

  “Then tell me why you take them.”

  “It’s not your place to know.” The words were bitten out with irritation.

  She might have pushed him too far.

  Did she stop?

  “Have you ever thought of challenging his orders?”

  “No. But I will say, if you’re that damned unhappy about them, why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

  “As if the coward would see me. I’ve heard he never leaves the Citadel.” And those who met him described him as big, imposing, and always wearing a golden helm.

  For some reason, her remark seemed to amuse Maric. “If he were a coward, the Kingdom would have been lost years ago.”

  “You know him?”

  “Yes. About as well as I’d say you know your Maeder. I’m surprised she got the job and not you. You seem to be quite opinionated.”

  “I’m not interested in ruling.”

  “So you claim, and yet you appear in charge with your Soraers.”

  “I obey the Goddess via the Maeder.”

  “A Maeder who seems to listen to you.”

  Observant of him. “Because she values my counsel.” How had they gotten off track? She was the one asking questions. “What happened to the paths between the King’s Valley and the other places?”

  “The mist. At first, it started as a simple fog, spreading out over the roads and trails. Not a big deal. Travelers got lost. In the beginning, they ended up finding their way. Then the monsters and the Vhampirs arrived.”

  “But where did they come from?” Agathe muttered.

  “Does it matter? Their existence has changed the course of our world forever.”

  “Can it be changed back?”

  “Doubtful anymore. The balance might have tilted too far.”

  An answer that begged even more questions. “You know an awful lot about this.”

  “It’s hard to mount a meaningful defense when ignorant.”

  “Says the man who refuses to recognize that women can fight.”

  “I said you did well. But can you say the same of the others?”

  “Hiix and Venna held their ground.” But he was right about the rest.

  “There are books that talk about the Abbaes and how the Order of the Shield protected the Kingdom from the monsters back when the mist was a problem. It would seem the Soraers lost their way.”

  A truthful rebuke that filled her with shame. “We’ve been trying to change but have met resistance. It’s hard to make people believe in strife and urgency until it affects them. It doesn’t matter how many times we remind them that protecting the Valley is our purpose.”

  “Your histories, what do they say about the mist?” he asked.

  “Not where it comes from, if that’s what you’re wondering. The story of our Goddess begins when the mist is already an everyday part of our lives.” The Goddess, Niimweii, supposedly began life as the wife of a shoemaker. She lost her husband and children to monsters in the mist. Her grief was so great she wanted to die with them, so she went into the fog at night and found a beast. In her rage, she pummeled it to death. The realization that she could fight led to her finding other widows and daughters left orphaned, introducing them to a place that would help other women not suffer as they had.

  “You never wondered before today where the mist came from?” he asked.

  Her shoulders lifted and dropped. “I always thought that was simply how it is. How it has always been.”

  “And now that you know the world used to be different?”

  “I’m wondering how many other lies the King has spread.”

  “You are very determined to disapprove of him.”

  “And you to defend. How long have you been in service to the King?”

  “Pretty much my whole life.”

  Surely, he exaggerated. “You had the purple eyes?”

  “You already know we are the only ones who can serve.”

  “How old were you when you were taken?”

  His lips pressed into a thin line. “Not important.”

  “True. The indoctrination happens at every age.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that we serve because we want to and believe in what the King is doing?”

  “Meaning, you believe in kidnapping.”

  “We believe in serving the greater good. And before you say one more word, let me remind you that you do the same thing using the name of your Goddess.”

  “We are the Soraers of the Shield.”

  “An elite guard. Yes. Same thing.”

  “No, not the same. Because our Goddess doesn’t have us kidnap people because of their eyes or anything else.”

  His tone was much too casual as he said, “So, in all your time, you’ve never encountered an acolyte, or even a Soraer, who rejected the Order? Never had an issue releasing any who decide life in the Abbae isn’t for them?”

  “It’s not that simple. Some don’t realize right away what it means to serve.”

  “Compelled compliance. Again, not so different from us, after all.”

  The trap was neatly set, and since she couldn’t bluster her way out of it, there was nothing to do but retreat. “I need to check on my Soraers. If you’ll excuse me, General Knight.” She stomped off and almost missed his muttered, “My name is Maric.”

  As if she cared. She planned to rid herself of him as soon as it was feasible. He’d given her some clues to work with. Now that she knew there was more information out there about the mist and its origins, she’d look even harder. There had to be a library or book somewhere with some stories. Maybe even more fairy tales since it appeared some were based in truth.

  She ranged ahead of the group, checking on Hiix, who was fine; Belle, who was complaining; and Venna, who huffed with flushed cheeks. As for Agathe, she scouted ahead, checking the path for any signs of danger while not really expecting any. The bright suns’ shine and lack of mist made it safe. She kept her pendant solarus stone out in the open that it might charge, its glow welcome at night. They all wore one, which helped with head counts when darkness fell.

  She went past the wide ledge of the Sixth Abbae. Its door was shut against the outside but showed signs of warping and rot in the wooden planks.

  She paused a moment, listening. Perhaps once they got the Soraers to safety she should return and see if she could break her way in. She wondered what had happened to the Sixth because no one ever spoke about it or the fact that the door was barred from the inside and had been for more than two decades.

  The group arrived, and Xaav called a halt. Water skins and dried bread were passed around. Not needing rest, Agathe had left the sunny ledge to peer around the next winding corner when the screams started.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Agathe sprinted down the trail to the group, shrill shrieks echoing in her ears. The less-trained acolytes huddled by the edge of the Abyss, guarded by a few of Maric’s men. The other soldiers and the Soraers who could actually fight gathered by the Abbae with Maric, all crouched down, peering into a large hole pene
trating the closed door. Shards of wood littered the ground.

  Venna stood to the side, wringing her hands.

  “What happened?” Agathe barked. “Where’s the Maeder?” Because Hiix was nowhere to be seen.

  “A tentacle—or what could have been a leg—shot right through the wood, punched that hole you see, and snatched Belle. Since the King’s Elite in their armor are too big, Hiix went in after it.”

  “She did what?” A glance showed Xaav kneeling by the general knight. The smallest of the soldiers appeared to be shedding gear in an attempt to fit through the hole. “Did she unlock it?”

  “Says she can’t. Yelled back that it was barricaded.”

  “Why aren’t they smashing their way in?” If something could slam out, then surely, they could do the same to enter.

  “Noise. They’re worried about startling whatever took Belle.”

  “Nonsense. Belle is probably yelling at it right now while they’re wasting time.” Xaav, while slender compared to the other men, remained too big. He’d never fit. But Agathe could. She shed what she could as she strode to the door.

  Maric’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t you even think of it.”

  “You can’t stop me.” She dropped to her knees and eyed the size of the splintered opening.

  When she would have crawled in, Maric grabbed her by the arm and growled, “I said no. It’s too dangerous.”

  “You don’t get to give me orders. Let go. You’re wasting time.” She tugged, and he released her. Before he could halt her again, she squeezed through the jagged opening. The hanging solarus stone around her neck emitted a soft, glowing light to guide her. The door wasn’t the only obstacle. She found herself in a tangle of debris. Someone had barricaded the entrance, preventing anyone from the outside coming in.

  Not the most auspicious of signs.

  Once Agathe emerged from the mess of broken furniture and other detritus, she found herself in the courtyard, barely lit by the stone. She lifted it and shone it around, straining to hear.

  She grimaced as Maric yelled, “Soraer, what can you see?”

  “A big freaking hole,” she muttered as she finally understood what had happened here. The floor had caved in from below and allowed the monsters entry. Those caught inside didn’t survive the attack. They’d protected themselves in the wrong direction.