Queen of Abaddon

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Queen of Abaddon Page 17

by Heather Killough-Walden


  Summer smiled at him, a small and rather tired smile. “He has so far,” she said. “He kept my father and I alive during the attacks. And he sent you to me, didn’t he? As soon as the ground in Nisse began to shake and Tanith left my room, I started praying. And then you were there.” She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she lifted her skirts and scooted past Loki to the road. When she was standing there alone, she looked back at them expectantly. “Well? Are we heading into town or not?”

  Raven had her own opinions about gods and coincidences and people helping themselves to answer their own prayers, but she had to admit she was suddenly feeling a little fonder toward Summer. She even found herself smiling as she joined Summer on the road and looked back at the men. “Come on, you two.”

  Loki and Grolsch joined them, if begrudgingly, and the four moved toward Culling’s Eve together.

  It was early morning, a thin mist hugged the ground, and the vegetation sparkled with dew that hadn’t yet dried out. A few late straggling nocturnals scurried at last toward their burrows, offering the group curious glances before they ducked safely inside.

  “How did you come to be in Nisse?” Raven asked Summer by way of walking conversation. She was wondering so much more than that, such as why the Hunter’s Map had sent them to her prison cell, but she had to start somewhere.

  Summer told them about the Nightmare Lord and his hunting party, about how Tanith was searching for a woman with a certain symbol on her body, and that Tantibus recognized Summer as a friend of Loki’s. She admitted she wasn’t certain what Tanith’s plan had been with her, and she was frankly surprised he hadn’t killed her.

  “Abaddonians don’t randomly kill people for no reason,” Raven said. She blinked after she’d said it, realizing that it was the second time she’d said such a thing, and her tone had been defensive.

  Summer blinked too, looking sidelong at Raven as if she had no idea how to respond to that. After a long silence, she continued, “Whatever his plan, I think something interrupted him. And, as I said, the ground began shaking. I hid, and you all came through a portal.”

  Loki had apparently told her to take hold of the Hunter’s Map after they’d appeared in her cell, and she was a smart girl. Rather than ask “why,” she simply did as she was told in the heat of the moment.

  And now they were walking on a deserted road toward a town called Culling’s Eve, and once again, they had no idea why.

  “Our party grows with every jump of the map,” Loki stated.

  He was right. Thus far, their little group had doubled in size. They’d located Grolsch, Summer, a dagger made of roses and thorns, a key made of blood, and who knew what they were going to find in the town up ahead? And who knew why?

  “I thought the map was supposed to lead us to the Phylactery?” Loki said, shooting Raven a look.

  “I don’t control it, Loki. It controls us.”

  The heat from what must have been numerous torches emanated well beyond the walls of Culling’s Eve. The closer they got to the town, the more it felt like mid-summer.

  When they reached the gates, it was to find no one guarding them. The tall wooden doors were simply closed. Whether they were barred from the other side was impossible to tell without attempting to open them.

  Riotous laughter and music made its way over the twelve foot stone city walls. Raven glanced at her companions. In unison, they shrugged. Then Grolsch moved forward, raised both arms, and leaned heavily on one of the doors.

  It creaked abrasively, opening at a weighted, gradual pace. At once, the noise from beyond grew louder, and it was clear where the heat was coming from. Raven lead the way after Grolsch, following him into the courtyard beyond.

  Despite the daylight, a bonfire dominated the round clearing, beckoning to drunken dancers and revelers at a low roar. All around the bonfire, people conversed and drank in a sort of circle, and beyond this smoldering hot circle, where shadows expanded in much cooler alleyways, Raven could see others.

  At first, their figures had blended almost magically into the darkness, and when her vision adjusted enough for her to make them out, they instantly reminded her of Drake. Many of them were quite tall, distinctly well-built, and their leather armor was just dark enough to provide the perfect amount of camouflage in the dark gray of their surroundings. Some seemed to be conducting covert business. Others were simply standing – and watching.

  They were Bounty Hunters of Tanith. Which meant their camouflage most likely was assisted by magic. Most people could not possibly blend in that well with shadows during the day.

  “I’m starving,” Grolsch grumbled, and without warning, he began striding toward a building with a swinging sign. It read: Eve’s Inn.

  It was a tavern. Raven figured the “Eve” part was in reference to the name of the city, but she couldn’t help but wonder whether the proprietor’s name might be Eve as well. Raven gestured to her brother and Summer, and the three of them followed Grolsch to the inn. It would most likely have something along the lines of stew, and perhaps freshly baked bread.

  Her stomach growled. But unlike Grolsch, she knew she not only needed to eat – but to feed.

  “Good idea,” she told Grolsch as they climbed the wooden steps to the double doors of the tavern. “Besides,” she added, thinking of the Tanith hunters in the shadows, “we shouldn’t stay out in plain sight for long.”

  “I think it may be too late for that,” came the stiffly whispered reply right behind her. Grolsch didn’t hear, and he continued into the tavern. Raven, however, stopped and turned to see what her brother was referring to.

  When she followed his line of sight, she found herself locking gazes with eyes so brilliantly green, they were nearly reflective where they stared out at her from the shadows beside a low-lying roof.

  Raven hissed an expletive.

  The man leaned casually on an alley wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His head was raised in interest, and his gaze was steady, and Raven recognized the heaviness of that particular look. He’d made her. He was one of Tanith’s. She could almost make out the infamous bounty hunter emblem on the chest of his armor.

  He knew who they were.

  “He knows,” she whispered. “What do we do now?”

  “That depends,” came a cool reply.

  Raven whipped back around to face the inn door. Directly in front of it, blocking her entrance, stood a tall man with long silver hair, pointed ears, and eyes the pure blue of a cloudless sky.

  “On whether you intend to run again, Raven” said Lord Astriel as he slowly climbed the steps of the tavern, “or surrender to me here and now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Raven could scarcely believe what she was seeing. Given all that had transpired over the last few days – and where her mind had been for most of the last year – she’d all but forgotten that there was another man out there hell bent on finding her. He’d matched and raised every bounty Drake placed on her. His armies and mages had been just as responsible for terran destruction as had Abaddon’s. He was just as powerful.

  Why was she so surprised to see him now?

  Because you’re in love with Tanith, a voice replied in her head.

  She blinked, confusion piling upon confusion. Was it her own voice that she’d heard? Or was it someone else’s?

  Astriel smiled an easy, amused smile. While she continued to stare at him dumbfounded, his gaze left hers to settle on her brother. “And how do you fare, young Loki?” he asked as if he were speaking to a child.

  Loki didn’t reply, and frankly Raven was too distracted to notice whether he bristled at the elf king’s tone.

  It was Summer who finally came forward, surprising them all even further. She stepped in front of Raven and lifted her chin. “Where are Mr. and Mrs. Grey?” she demanded. There was quite a bit of strength behind her words.

  Raven was stunned. This was the same woman who had been bullied by the mere presence of the elf king back when he was yet
an elf prince… what felt like eons ago. She was almost an entirely different person. Though, Raven did notice that the hands Summer held firmly behind her back were shaking uncontrollably.

  Bravery, Raven had learned, required that a person first feel fear. Bravery without fear was not bravery at all. It was only apathy and insanity. Right now, Summer was clearly terrified. And she was the epitome of brave.

  War changes a man, they say. Why hadn’t anyone ever said that war changes a woman?

  Astriel looked down at the blonde woman, and something in his stark blue eyes shifted, giving off a quick spark as if flint and steel had struck in their depths. He cocked his head a little to one side, regarding her with silent care. “Miss Summer,” he said calmly. That spark was back again, flashing momentarily before the corner of his mouth turned up. “It is a pleasure to see you after all this time. I’ll admit, you could use a few pounds, but it’s nothing a little elven food wouldn’t remedy.”

  Summer seemed as though she were about to say one thing at first, but Astriel’s comment caught her off guard, and she mentally backpedaled, swallowing her words in order to re-think them for something else. Her gaze narrowed. “I’m sure the elves fill their banquet tables as an afterthought while they battle with Abaddon on our terran realm, but I’m afraid such feasts are not as easily accessible to the people whose farm lands you dispassionately destroy.”

  Astriel, for his part, was unfazed by her retort. In fact, if anything, it made him smile more. “To answer your question, Miss Summer,” he continued, changing the subject with expert ease and twinkling eyes, “Mr. and Mrs. Grey are safe and protected.” He turned to Raven, pinning her now with those blue beams. “And they would very much like to see their son and daughter again.”

  Raven was still fairly stunned. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She’d been concerned enough about the bounty hunter in the shadows. But now one of the kings who’d summoned those bounty hunters was standing right in front her, less than two feet away.

  She’d forgotten how tall he was. And how blue his eyes were.

  And though she couldn’t believe it, she’d actually forgotten about his power. It radiated off him, like ripples in a pond when a rock is tossed in. And the worst thing was, she knew he was sparing them. That power could get so much worse.

  Just like Drake’s.

  The Bounty Hunter of Tanith…. The Bounty Hunter! Raven tore her gaze from Astriel’s to look back toward the alley where she’d seen the hunter standing and watching them. He was gone.

  “He wasn’t working for you, was he?” Raven asked. Like an idiot, she only now realized that there was no way the hunter would have had enough time to notify Astriel that Raven and Loki were in Culling’s Eve.

  “No,” he said calmly. “My informant was actually outside of Culling. He watched you enter the city.” He paused for effect. “You really ought to be more careful, my dear. Though I applaud your decision to bathe with a chaperone.”

  The implications of what Astriel was telling them were numerous. People were watching them, and Raven and her companions had no clue. They’d never suspected. It also meant that those particular people knew them for who they were. Their disguise, at this point, was all but useless.

  “On that note, however, you’re right to be concerned about the Tanith hunter who just spied you and vanished.” Astriel glanced back at the alley where the bounty hunter had been standing moments earlier. “He’s no doubt off to tattle on you as we speak.”

  He turned back around, again pinning Raven with those impossible blue eyes. “So I will ask you again, Raven Winter Grey. Will you come peacefully and assure your mother and father you’re alive and well?” His tone dropped now and he took that single step forward that closed the distance between them.

  His power swelled, pouring over her, and when he spoke next, it was in a private whisper. “ Or will you fight me even now?”

  Raven gazed up into those eyes and pondered the implications of surrender, not the least of which was the Phylactery of Souls and her chance of ever finding it. She swallowed hard, turning phrases over in her head while her fingers began to prickle with building, defensive magic. But when her lips parted and she took a breath to speak, it was Loki who broke the silence, not her.

  “Too late,” he said solemnly. “We’ve got company.”

  Raven stepped back, and Astriel turned around.

  Portals make a strange sound when they open and close. As they open, it’s reminiscent of someone opening a sound-proof door into a very noisy room. Only, the room is the size of a universe, and the noise is composed primarily of wind and magic.

  When they closed, they always reminded Raven of thunder. Except that rather than being loud enough to cause travelers to go deaf, this thunder was toned-down, laced with a kind of zapping, and then a final whoosh as all of the noise previously let in from the windy universe was once more shut out by that sound-proof door.

  These two sounds – the opening and closing of portals – began to emanate from all over Culling’s Eve. The sounds came in conjunction with red-orange flashes of light that swirled and expanded, then shrank and went out. As the group of them stood there on the stairs of Eve’s Inn, Raven could see these lights appear in more than a dozen alleyways and streets. They flashed in doorways, behind windows, and even amidst crowds of Culling’s revelers.

  A dozen became two dozen. Which became three.

  Having traveled in a portal that had transported Raven and her companions both in and out of Abaddon, she was now well familiar with the colors of transportation magic associated with that realm.

  The transports were coming from Abaddon. Hell’s armies were suddenly amassing in Culling’s Eve.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Raven gasped as Astriel suddenly grabbed her by the upper arm and moved her toward the inn door. “In. All of you. Now.”

  Raven stumbled in, following on Astriel’s heels, and the others piled in after her. The inhabitants of the tavern stopped what they were doing, whether eating or conversing, and looked on in curiosity. Grolsch joined them at once, leaving the bar to stride across the inn. “What the bloody –”

  He never finished his sentence, as once they were all inside, Astriel turned toward the doors and raised his arms at his sides. He closed his eyes, and his body began to glow.

  Raven and the others moved back, inching toward the center of the tavern. The other people in the tavern now stood up as well, and began muttering amongst themselves. A few became alerted and slowly went for weapons. The bartender moved out from behind the bar and grabbed the serving wench by her arm, moving her toward the back door of the establishment.

  But no one got very far before Astriel’s glow sank into the floor boards and spread outward like star fire, coalescing at the base of the walls and then shooting upward until the entire building was wrapped in a cocoon of light.

  The bartender scooted away from the back door, which was now glowing right along with everything else.

  Raven let instinct guide her. She pulled the rolled up Hunter’s Map from where she’d placed it in the quiver at her back and quickly unfolded it. It rapidly drew its lines before her eyes, forming what she immediately recognized as the town of Culling’s Eve. But rather than a dotted line that led once more to some new destination, the map instead began to glow.

  And the brightest glowing object on the scroll was a tavern with a swinging sign out front: Eve’s Inn.

  Astriel lowered his arms and turned to the bartender, who was now watching him with wide, wary eyes.

  “You have a hidden passage connected to this building.”

  At first, the man simply continued to stare at him, probably too frightened and surprised to speak. But Astriel seemed low on patience. He approached the bartender in long, smooth strides. “I sensed the extra dimensions while placing the shield over your establishment. Where is the door?” he demanded in an eerily calm but decidedly intolerant tone.

  Raven glanced down
at her map, squinting speculatively at the glowing tavern. Could that be what the map was trying to tell her? Was their next destination in search of the Phylactery actually right here, where they already were? Was it in that extra space Astriel indicated?

  “M-my father g-gave the iiiiinn to m-my ssssister and m-me,” said the bartender. He had a terrible stutter, and his fear of Astriel couldn’t have been helping it much. “Th-there’s a d-door in the c-c-ceeee – in the c-c-ceeee –” He closed his mouth, shut his eyes, and squeezed his lips together tightly.

  Raven could sense his frustration, but she was impressed when Astriel also seemed to sense that frustration, and in a display of something like sympathy, he waited for the man to gain control of himself. She was also impressed with the man’s sister, whom Raven assumed was the woman standing next to him. She didn’t try to jump in and take the conversation over for her brother. Instead, she waited.

  The bartender opened his eyes and tried again. “In the c-cellar doowwwnstairs,” he said, drawing the last word out a bit and then exhaling.

  “We’ve never been able to get it open,” his sister added after a moment. “There’s no key, and not even a door handle. There’s only the plain metal door, so we covered it up years ago.”

  Astriel swallowed hard. Raven actually saw his throat work. Her eyes widened. He was worried about something, and it was a strange thing to see. It made him slightly less intimidating and just a touch more approachable.

  “You think it might be iron, don’t you?” she said aloud. The woman had mentioned it was metal.

  He turned to her, and she could see that he had visibly paled. “Whether it is or not, you need to go through it.”

  A loud blast suddenly shook the building. Several of the inn’s diners screamed, and some dropped to the floor to huddle under the tables, seeking cover.

 

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