Down the stairs went lower and lower until Abagail thought they’d never reach the end. Finally, the tunnel opened up to the black expanse of Eget Row and the cobbled rainbow road.
“Thank the All Father,” Skye said. Just the name made Abagail’s skin prickle, but she didn’t respond.
Abagail looked around them. She thought she’d have to cross another mirror into Eget Row, as seemed to be the way into the heavenly crossroads, but here she was. The rainbow road lay out before her in a straight line that faded into the horizon. Above her and below her, she could see thin trails of the cobbled roadway, glowing a soft color in the darkness of the void.
There were stars, and she was thankful for that. Unlike on the other side of the pyramid, there had been nothingness, here the void shown with the cold light of stars, giving the notion that life hadn’t forsaken the universe.
But there were also shadows. Trails of darkness rent the air around Eget Row. It hadn’t been there before. Darkness like blackened fog drifted here and there. Where it passed before a star, the light of the star vanished, never to shine again.
“Those are worlds,” Abagail knew. “Overtaken by the darkness.”
Skye frowned. The darkling tide was moving fast. Clouds of darklings swarmed sections of the heavens, blotting out the light of faraway worlds and stars that would never again shine with life.
“We need to hurry,” Skye said. “Time moves differently here.”
“I know,” Abagail said. “It could either flow the same way back in Agaranth, or it could move much faster. Who knows, Leona might already be an old lady.” The thought terrified her. What if treading the stairs had already made them too late to do anything about the scepters?
Would everything she’d known and loved back in the physical world be gone when she went back?
If I make it back, Abagail thought. She gazed down at the rainbow road before her. The cobbles shined with their rainbow hues into the dark expanse of space beyond her.
She refused to look up at the stars again and see the darkling tide erasing life from the universe. If she looked again and saw it, it might even erase the light of hope from within her.
Skye nodded and headed out the only way they could go: away from the shadowed doorway and farther down Eget Row.
“I need to stop,” Leona said. She stopped where she was, the other woman trailing ahead of her slowly pulled to a stop as well. The raven sisters, Huginn and Muninn, didn’t spend a lot of time in human form. Most of the trek the last couple days had seen them taking to wing to make sure nothing was following them, and that danger didn’t lay ahead.
The sky was bright that morning, and the ravens stood out like beacons of blackness against the snow. Their feathered cloaks looked like coal against so much white.
Rowan turned to Leona, her white hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun that she didn’t have to mess with on their journey. Her clothes, though they were the same brown tunic and black trousers she’d worn in Haven, looked clean and unruffled.
“What is it?” Rowan asked. “Are you not feeling well?” She drew near Leona, her hands glowing a soft orange. Early on in the trip Leona found that the harbinger could not only set things on fire with her firebringer power, but she could also infuse the body with heat to help chase away the damaging cold. She had been an asset with starting fires and keeping them from the dangers of exposure. “Are you cold?”
Leona pulled away from her . . . mother. She had a hard time admitting to herself that Rowan was her mother. “Where’s Rorick?” she asked. “Why haven’t we found him yet?” She turned back toward were Haven lay behind them. Though she couldn’t see the city, she hoped maybe she would see Rorick’s form ambling through the snow behind them, searching for them.
Rowan groaned. “Do you know how big the world is?” she asked.
“I’m not a child,” Leona snipped.
“I know,” Rowan sighed. “It’s just that there’s any direction Rorick could have taken out of Haven. The likelihood of us finding him is slim. We might not find him. He could be anywhere right now. Our best hope is meeting with the dwarves to the south, like Olice said.”
It felt to Leona that Rowan was hiding something, but how could she be sure? Was that her intuition telling her that her mother was being secretive, or was it because Rowan had lied to her before and she didn’t know if she could trust her?
“I know you’ve had it hard,” Rowan said. She placed a hand on Leona’s shoulder and rubbed. Leona pulled away from her with a jerk and a dirty look.
“You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through,” Leona told her.
Rowan sighed and let her hand drop. “You know at some point you’re going to have to forgive me.”
“Am I?” Leona asked. She was distantly aware of the twins transforming into ravens and taking to wing. “Do I really have to forgive what you did?”
“And what was it I did?” Rowan asked, her voice heated, losing some of the care she’d tried to exude before.
“You left us,” Leona sneered. “You let father take us to an unknown world, and left us!”
“I didn’t do any of that! You were part of the vision, you know that I had no idea your father had taken you,” Rowan fired back.
“But you knew it was coming. You pushed Fortarian into being a darkling, you allowed him to be overtaken. Dad told you that it was enough, that he needed us to be safe, and you ignored him.” Leona squared her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest. “That was you. You forced his hand. You allowed us to grow up in a world that was as unforgiving to wyrd as life was to Abagail. You don’t know shit about what we’ve been through. You don’t know that in your absence, Abbie had to raise me.”
Rowan looked away from Leona.
“Forgive you?” Leona said.
Rowan glanced back at her.
“Forgive you for making Fortarian into the darkling I had to face. Making him into the darkling that gave me this!” She held up her hand like it was a weapon. Rowan’s eyes wouldn’t flinch from the smear of darkling wyrd that plagued her palm. “Forgive you for forcing Abbie into a life where she had to take care of our home, our father, and me. No. I don’t think I need to do a damn thing for you.”
Leona turned away from Rowan then and stalked off into the snow. Rowan didn’t follow her for a time, which was probably smart on her end. Leona wasn’t sure what she’d do just then if Rowan had followed too closely.
The snow and the cold didn’t seem to bother Leona. The sun was bright on the white snow, and though it threatened to blind her, Leona kept pushing through it, pushing through her anger, ignoring the headache that welled up in her temples at the blazing snow before her.
Leona wasn’t sure if she was angrier at Rowan for herself or for the shitty life Abagail had been handed because of her. Who does that? Leona wondered. She didn’t want to think about the reasons Rowan might have had for turning her back on her family, for using Fortarian to lure in the darkling god so they could learn some of the plans they might have in store for them.
What good did it do anyway? Leona wondered. Agaranth lay in near ruin. The frontier of harbingers had been overthrown in a single night. The scepters were about to be open, and who knew what that meant for the world?
A shadow passed over the snow before her. Leona froze, her heart in her chest. The shadow wheeled around, spiraled over the snow. It took a moment of her heart hammering her mind back to the present to realize that the shadow wasn’t from a darkling, but something in the sky. She glanced up to see the raven twins winging through the air above her. She’d almost forgotten that they’d escaped the conflict between mother and daughter moments before.
A raven landed behind Leona. She thought about continuing her trek, but that would be rude. The ravens hadn’t done anything to her . . . Rowan had. She shouldn’t punish them or be angry at them. She waited until she was sure the raven had shifted back into her human form before turning. Leona hated seeing the bod
y elongate and watching the bones break and reform themselves into the form of a human.
The only similarity between human and raven were the feathers. The feathers were always there, either covering the raven’s body, or as a cloak enshrouding the human’s.
“There’s a cave ahead,” Huginn said behind her. “It’s close, maybe closer than you’d like to settle down for the night. We will be there within the hour.”
Leona frowned, casting her eyes skyward. “There’s still a lot of daylight left.”
“But you’re tired,” Rowan said. “And your eyes have to be suffering from all of this sun. I know mine are.”
“There’s more important things right now than our comfort,” Leona said icily. She turned to Huginn.
“What about danger?” Muninn said once she’d finished shifting beside her sister.
Huginn was studying Leona’s face. She couldn’t tell if the twin was angry with her, or if her eyes had just settled on her for lack of another place to look. She could never tell Huginn’s emotions if the raven didn’t want her too.
Muninn was another story. Her rigid stance, her hands that fiddled with one another, her eyes that darted between mother and daughter all spoke that she was largely uncomfortable with the exchange that had happened.
“There’s no danger that I’ve noticed,” Huginn said. “But you know darklings, you don’t always see them until they are on top of you. I didn’t see any indication of Olice either.”
Rowan nodded. “It will likely be a little longer before we see them. Tomorrow at the earliest. If Leona feels up to travel, we will press on past the cave and hope we find another suitable campsite before nightfall.”
Huginn nodded and took to wing again. Her forming into a raven was faster this time, nearly invisible to the eye. There was certainly no way Leona could keep track of her shifting. Muninn watched her sister take to the air and sighed. Leona imagined it was with regret that Muninn followed Rowan and Leona farther into the snow field and didn’t join with her sister in the sky.
The ravens had done that most of the trip. It was rare both of them would shift and take to the air. Normally only one flew above to keep watch, while the other stayed behind as if they were some kind of guard. Leona wasn’t sure what they intended to do if an enemy approached. She didn’t know how they might offer more protection than Rowan could. Leona had only ever seen them fight with their swords, never with wyrd. Their wyrd was prophetic, how could you fight with that?
Vaguely Leona was happy for the sun. It would have been too easy for her to get lost if the day had been cloudy. The others let her lead, hoping the furious pace she kept through the snow would help her burn off some of her anger. As long as she kept the sun, sinking toward the horizon, on her right, Leona knew she was heading south.
The terrain was dull and without character. It was an endless, unbroken expanse of white that glowed white with the ferocity of the sun. It would have been lovely if Leona’s thoughts weren’t so dark.
In a new world, no family around save a mother who gave me up. Friends scattered to the four winds, dark elves ready to open the scepters at any moment. What’s there not to be happy about?
“Stop,” Huginn called behind her. Leona never even noticed the sister had landed and shifted back to human. “We need a break. We’ve been traveling for hours now.”
It wasn’t until the raven drew attention to how long they’d been traveling that Leona noticed the sun was much lower than it had been before, nearly sinking beneath the horizon. It seemed like only moments had passed, but she blamed that on the unchanging landscape.
The earth shivered. Snow around them shifted a bit.
Rowan frowned. “There it is again,” she said to Huginn.
“There what is again?” Leona asked.
“You haven’t noticed?” Muninn asked, her eyes rooted, unbelievingly on Leona.
“The earth has been quaking steadily for the last hour,” Huginn told her.
“You didn’t feel it?” Muninn asked again.
Leona shook her head.
“Is that smoke ahead?” Leona asked them, noticing a trail of gray reaching toward the sky.
“Maybe a farm?” Rowan asked. She squinted into the distance, her gaze falling where Leona pointed.
“Maybe,” Huginn shrugged. “There’s no real landmarks around, but I don’t think we are close to any villages. I have seen some smoke here and there, but nothing that looked like it was from a village.”
“We should be careful,” Muninn said. “You guys rest, I will check it out.”
Muninn took to wing and Leona watched as she faded from sight. She counted the moments, waiting for Muninn to return with news on the smoke. Leona couldn’t break her sight from the trail of smoke. She was sure it was a home . . . but she’d seen a lot of smoke lately, and a lot of fire, and a lot of trails of what she thought was smoke through the sky.
She’d learned that sometimes smoke in the sky wasn’t just smoke in the sky.
The ground heaved again. This time it was more than a shiver. This time the snow churned and Leona nearly lost her footing. She ambled to the side, tumbling through the snow and barely caught herself before she fell completely.
“What was that?” she cried, pushing to her feet.
Rowan picked herself out of the snow, and Huginn gazed around them, standing as if she hadn’t even been ruffled.
“There’s more smoke now,” Huginn said, pointing to the horizon. Leona didn’t want to look. There was no doubt in her mind that the shaking in the earth was directly connected to the smoke.
“Let’s call it what we know it is,” Leona said. “Darklings.”
Neither Huginn or Rowan said a word, but they did exchange a glance, and that glance told Leona all she needed to know: they had been trying to deny that darklings were the cause of the quaking earth.
This time when the earth lurched and the snow slipped sideways, Leona went with it. There was no way she could keep her footing. She tumbled down the hill, the snow tumbling with her. There were moments when she surfaced above the snow, only to be tossed before the maelstrom, and then buried again in an ocean of shifting, churning snow.
Again she was tossed to the surface, and this time she was heading straight for a fissure in the ground. The earth shivered and gaped open like a great maw to Eget Row. Within, all Leona could see was darkness. The darkness had shape; it had form. The darkness drifted up from the chasm and toward the sky.
Leona was barreling straight for the darkling wyrd that issued forth from the earth.
Along the edges of her sight she could see forms. When she tried to look directly at the forms, they shivered and shifted away, always staying at the edge of her vision. The snow was slowing now, she was on top of the slide, swirling here and there. She was thankful there was no kind of debris for her to bang into because that would surely have spelled her doom.
Snow tumbled into the chasm, and moments before Leona went with it, a hand grabbed her and pulled her to the side. She tumbled away from the chasm, just barely missing the edge of the rent in the ground.
When she stopped, Leona was accosted by the sound of the sea of shifting snow spilling in a roaring rush through the chasm.
Leona jumped to her feet, and leapt to the side, away from whoever had grabbed her. It only took her a moment to recognize the jewelry and the black feathers. It was Muninn.
“What is going on?” Leona gasped. She stumbled to the side and with weakening legs, she collapsed to the ground.
“You’ve heard us talk about places where the veil is thinning, right?” Muninn asked. She gasped for air and sat beside Leona.
Leona nodded. Those shifting spaces of darkness were back. If she didn’t pay attention to them, she could tell that they were the child-like darklings she’d met in Haven. They were small, they were numerous, and they shifted at the edge of her vision, like shadows flitting from the light of the All Father.
“The Fey Forest is one such sp
ot. Darklings have been gaining more and more power . . . I fear these spots are opening up all over,” Muninn said. She was looking straight ahead, and Leona knew that the raven was seeing the same shadows at the edge of her vision.
“On our way here,” Leona said. “Before when Abagail and Rorick and I were in the Fey Forest, the elle folk came to us through similar portals. Is that what this is?”
Muninn nodded. “I fear this is exactly what it is.”
“What do we do about them?” Leona said, meaning the child-like darklings.
“Try to keep from touching them,” Muninn said.
Leona pushed to her feet. Beside her, Muninn stood as well. Back to back they stood, watching the darkling children, but it was useless. More and more issued up from the chasm and they were surrounded. Whenever Leona cast her glance directly at a group, they skirted to the side and advanced.
“Muninn!” Leona yelled, the children getting closer with every glance.
“Hold on, Rowan will be here—”
Leona was no longer in the snow.
Leona was no longer in the daylight.
Before her gaped a large, earthen pit. Around her were bodies, dark elves mostly but here and there were some humans and some light elves. She dared not breathe for fear they might realize she was out of place; they might see that she didn’t belong here.
She looked forward over the rim of the gap. There was a path that led down on her right. It came from before her, ramped down from a large pedestal. The pedestal was made of earth, rising high above, but not so high that she couldn’t see the block at the top of it where a man was laying his head.
Sunny hair, thick beard.
“Rorick!” Leona called. “Rorick!” She screamed.
He turned his gaze to her, peering down at her. His head perched at the block. Before him, down into the pit, lay a trail of brown stain. Leona didn’t want to imagine what it was. The sight she saw in Rorick’s eyes was bad enough, hopelessness.
The Call of Winter (The Harbingers of Light Book 6) Page 10
