The Fires of Muspelheim

by Travis Simmons

  “You’re right,” Olice said. “The source of the . . . whatever it was is gone.”

  Elves flooded the grand hall. The doors whisked open as elves poured out. Outside there were shouts and screams, crying and groans. Skye let his feet carry him out the sliding doors and into the sun. The snow sparkled as if nothing had happened, but there was proof in the white landscape.

  Large masonry lay scattered around the courtyard. Some of it was smoking and clearly hewn by human hands. The snow around the clustered debris was dark, covered in soot.

  “It came from Haven,” Olice said.

  “Abbie,” Skye breathed. He didn’t wait for the guard commander to speak, he was already darting through the crowd. He brushed past bleeding elves being carried away and dodged around clustered groups of elves talking in low tones, their eyes turned up to ruined buildings.

  He slid around a corner, nearly knocking over a troupe of guards racing to ground zero. They separated in time, letting him streak past.

  Skye should have been helping them, but he didn’t have a mind for the destruction. His feet carried him to the switchback trails that lead down to Haven. He had just made it to the landing when he saw what used to be the barracks and the stockades in complete ruin.

  “Abbie?” Skye wondered, staring down at the ruin. “Where are you?”

  The courtyard exploded into activity around Rowan, but all she could do was stare at the small girl before her. She was vaguely aware of healers streaming out of buildings and around her toward where the barracks had been destroyed and the stockades flattened.

  None of this registered with Rowan. She couldn’t break her eyes from the shadow plague twining its way around Leona’s hand.

  If you’d only protected me then, stopped him from . . .

  Rowan shook her head and closed her blue eyes against the rush of emotion. A trail of tears streaked out of her eyes and down her cheeks to land against the soot covered path.

  “Rowan,” Gil called to her. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been trying to get her attention, but when she opened her eyes it all came rushing to her.

  “Abagail?” Rowan asked. “She’d been heading to the stockades?”

  Gil, her brown-haired protégé, nodded. “We were supposed to meet after for lunch.”

  “Where is she now?” Rowan asked. Her heart was racing, her eyes snapped to the stockades. She hadn’t seen her in there. What if . . . but it was too much for her to consider.

  Gil’s brown eyes looked troubled. He cast his glance to Leona’s ashen face.

  “Gil!” Rowan barked. “Where’s Abagail?”

  “Gone.” Gil wouldn’t look up to meet her eyes.

  “What do you mean gone?” Rowan asked. “Is she dead?” She fought back the bile that rose in her throat. It was her fault she hadn’t stopped Dolan before. She should have taken them into her charge then, and she wouldn’t have to worry about this point right now. I could have trained them better than him. They wouldn’t be here with this plague if I had!

  “I don’t know,” Gil said. “She just isn’t there.”

  “So Leona is the only one that was in there?” Rowan asked.

  Gil didn’t have a chance to answer. Before he could, two healers shuffled toward the entrance to what used to be the stockades. They carried a lithe figure with them. His white hair trailed low to the ground. One slack hand dangled lifelessly from his body, the other was folded over him.

  Rowan didn’t have to study the figure to know it was her brother, Fortarian. Despite his having been a darkling, Rowan couldn’t fight back the emotions that welled up inside. She turned away from him.

  “He’s dead,” Rowan said.

  “And this one will be too if you don’t snap out of it!” A voice barked from behind her.

  Rowan turned to see one of the raven twins standing beside Gil, staring down at Leona. She figured it was Huginn from the lack of jewelry she wore and her ability to make Rowan baulk like no one else could.

  “It’s tragic what’s happened here today,” Huginn continued. “What will be more tragic is losing this young girl, the only seer of the future we’ve had in ages and the only one who has any hope of telling us where Abagail is.”

  “Of course,” Rowan said, pushing down that other voice inside, the one that couldn’t bear to see Leona like this; the voice that could only dwell on the coil of shadow plague slipping over Leona’s wrist like the deadliest of snakes trailing venom to her heart. “Gil, take her to the greenhouse, Muninn,” Rowan called to the other raven twin, just now coming up beside her sister. “Go to my training yurt and grab one of the necklaces. She’ll be needing it.”

  Muninn nodded and headed off in the direction of the classrooms mere yards from where the destruction had happened.

  Rowan fell into step behind Gil. She couldn’t look at Leona, but rather focused her attention on the destruction that Abagail had caused. On lower levels, masonry had smashed through houses and the heat of the stones had even caught some office buildings on fire. Rowan could see as far away as the field where she and Rorick had watched the dark elf Daniken and the harbingers of darkness gather. Stones of the barracks and probably the stockades too littered the field.

  Gil pushed open the door to the greenhouse and Rowan followed him in.

  “There, put her down on that table.” Rowan motioned to a clear table at the back of the greenhouse. A trickle of fire wyrd left her finger to alight on the candle by the door. She pushed more wyrd into the flame that kindled there and watched as the fire jumped from candle to candle, lamp to lamp, until the entire inside of the greenhouse was lit well enough for her to work. There was a glass ceiling trickling in sunlight, but that wouldn’t help her see well enough for what she needed to do.

  Gilphig obeyed his teacher’s command. Rowan wandered around the greenhouse, squeezing between tables of plants positioned under glowing skylights. She picked a few leaves here and there not really focusing on the name of the plants, but instead following her innate herbal intuition about what plants would help Leona.

  She traced her way along the walls, randomly plucking vials of powder off the shelves, and pocketing a bottles of potions. Finally, her hands full of greenery and her pockets laden with paper pouches and glass bottles, Rowan made her way back to her working table. This was the only part of the greenhouse that wasn’t covered in windows. The place where she needed light the most. Wyrded candles and lamps lined the walls and workbenches allowing enough light for her to read by.

  Leona lay on a scarred wooden table a few feet away. Rowan allowed herself the merest of glances at the young girl before depositing her treasures on the table. With a lick of her fire wyrd she lit a fire under a small cauldron standing on a tripod atop the table. Rowan turned a spigot on a huge bottle on the table. A copper tube led from the bottom of the bottle and above the cauldron. From the tube a thick, clear liquid poured into the cauldron. It was the typical herbal base for all of her potions and it always remained on her work table.

  Not waiting for the liquid to heat, Rowan began chopping leaves, crushing seeds, and popping open pods. With a trained hand she sprinkled the exact right amount into the cauldron, giving the pot several stirs between additions.

  The door opened and the raven twins came in. Huginn closed the door and Muninn stopped beside Rowan.

  “How is the potion going? Will this wake her?” Muninn asked.

  Rowan nodded, adding the last bit of torn leaves to the simmering pot. “This will help ease whatever internal injuries she had as well as speed up her recovery. I can’t say that it will wake her immediately, but it will help her to wake sooner than she might have.”

  “What happened to her?” Gil asked, casting a glance to Muninn.

  The raven swallowed heavily and stepped back. She handed the necklace to Huginn and her sister went to the prostrate figure of Leona. The collar fastened around the girl’s neck with a click. It could only be removed now by wyrd from a caster other than Leona.
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  “We all know about the rising darkness in Haven,” Muninn said. “We know about that because Leona’s vision confirmed our suspicions. She wanted to do what she could to help. The girl was convinced that the darkness was Fortarian. We suggest that she go to see him . . .”

  “You . . . did this?” Rowan asked. She leaned against the table and crossed her arms over her chest. She had to cross her arms over her chest or risk beating the raven bloody. “You led her into danger and didn’t ensure that she would be safe?”

  “Fortarian was under lock and key and shackled, how were we to—” Huginn started, coming to her sister’s defense, but Rowan wasn’t having any of it.

  “Dammit, Huginn, don’t you dare act like you didn’t know this could happen. He didn’t have to have access to his power to spread his plague. We all know this! Without training there’s no stopping your plague from spreading. A harbinger of darkness spreads his plague at will!”

  Huginn took a step back and only nodded.

  “It’s done,” Muninn said. Though her words were dismissive there was a note of deep regret in her voice. “And yes, we are to blame. I never thought that she would get so wrapped up in him that he could have done this.”

  “She’s just a girl,” Gil said. “A young girl, no matter how many darklings she’s slain or how smart she is. She’s a child, and they are easily fooled.”

  “We should have known,” Huginn said. “We should have gone with her.”

  “We just thought she’d have the most success reaching him, given what they’d been through together.”

  Rowan nodded and turned back to her brew. She strangled out the fire with a lick of wyrd. She gripped the handle with the hem of her shirt and removed the cauldron from the tripod. She sat it on a hook beside the table to help it cool.

  The door opened and Rorick stepped in.

  “Back here,” Rowan called to him. Rorick cast his gaze back to them and then his eyes fell on the pallid face of Leona. He made a beeline for her.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  Before anyone could answer the door opened and Skye stepped in.

  “Where’s Abagail?” he asked, coming to the group.

  “That’s the big question,” Huginn said. “It seems the only one who might know is Leona.”

  “What happened?” Rorick asked, he reached for her hand and then stopped short, noticing the collar on her neck. His partially raised hand dropped back to his side.

  “Oh will you get over it?” Skye said, pushing Rorick aside. “She’s been infected just like her sister.” He indicated the shadow plague gathering on Leona’s hand. “You can either embrace this family as they embraced you, or you can turn your back on them, but I won’t stand here and watch you destroy Leona’s emotions like you did Abagail’s.”

  No one moved, not even Rorick. They all stared at Skye as the elf knelt beside the table and gathered Leona’s hand in his own. While he was careful not to touch the plague on her palm, he also didn’t back down from touching her afflicted hand. He closed her fingers over the darkened skin to protect his own flesh, and clasped her closed fist in his.

  Rorick slumped against the table where Skye had pushed him, his eyes on the floor. Rowan squared her shoulders and sniffed. She’d stood by and watched Rorick come to terms with whatever it was he was facing for long enough. He had to either get over it or cut the girls out of his life. He couldn’t keep torturing them for things that were out of their control.

  “We will all need to help Leona now,” Muninn said, trying to diffuse the situation. “She needs our support more than ever. She can overcome this, but not without our help.”

  Rowan checked the pot, but the brew was still too warm to administer.

  She turned back to the group gathered around Leona.

  “So who was the last person to see Abagail, besides Leona?” Rowan asked.

  “Me,” Gil said. He’d been so quiet that Rowan had nearly forgotten he was there. “She said she had to go do sister things with Leona, we were supposed to meet for lunch after she was done. I had no idea where she was going, or I would have stopped her.”

  “It’s likely neither of them wanted to let us know what was going on,” Rowan said, her eyes focused on the twins, but they didn’t meet her gaze. She couldn’t keep thinking of herself as faultless though, wasn’t it Fen and her who had told the girls they were going to start helping the harbingers as spies? What did she think? They were going to be out of harm’s way?

  But this didn’t have to happen!

  “So she was with Fortarian too,” Rowan said.

  “That explosion, was it Abbie?” Skye asked, breaking his gaze from Leona’s face.

  “Yes,” Rowan said. “I believe it was. She likely saw what happened to Leona and lost control. And she’d just started gaining control too.” She shook her head.

  “And Fortarian?” Huginn asked.

  “Dead,” Rowan told her.

  “Rowan, I’m sorry,” Muninn said.

  Rowan held up a hand to stop the raven from speaking further. “My brother was dead to me long before he was destroyed in the stockades.”

  “So we wait for Leona to come around,” Rorick said. “That’s the only way we will know where Abagail is?”

  Rowan nodded. “We wait. In the meantime, Rorick, I want you and Camilla to start investigating Deborah Peterson. She’s one of the people we suspect.”

  Rorick nodded, and cast his gaze back to the pale, lifeless figure on the table. If it weren’t for her chest rising and falling with slight breath, Rowan would think she was dead.

  It was another week of constant vigil and administering the potion before Leona started taking on color again. It was another three days of Skye’s constant presence and the raven twins perpetual visits before the youngest Bauer sister stirred to life and opened her eyes.

  For the first time in that week and a half, Rowan allowed herself to relax a bit. Though it was a great victory, their struggle wasn’t over yet; there was no telling how Leona would take the presence of the shadow plague.

  Rowan stepped closer to the table, trying not to disturb Skye where he slumbered next to Leona. She took the girl’s pure hand and clasped it tight.

  “What do you remember?” Rowan asked in hushed tones. Leona turned her blue eyes up to the older white-haired woman. There was sadness there, and a depth of understanding that Rowan couldn’t read.

  “All of it,” Leona croaked. Her throat was dry. Rowan fetched her a glass of water and Leona gulped it down. Half way through the glass, Skye yawned awake. When he saw Leona was awake a sleepy smile spread across his face.

  Leona sat the glass down and looked at her left hand; the hand with the shadow plague.

  “He confused me . . . somehow. Made me think that people were lying to me. I think he was trying to turn me against you,” Leona looked up at Rowan. “Like there’s something you’re not telling me. But that’s absurd, right?”

  Rowan smiled and nodded woodenly. Her neck tensed as if protesting the action.

  “I mean, why would you lie to me?” Leona kept staring into Rowan’s eyes as if she knew there was something Rowan wasn’t telling her.

  “Right, what would I have to lie about?” Rowan wondered.

  “When he got me worked up enough that I was within reach, he gave me this.” Leona held up her hand to look at the blemish of the plague. “Abbie was there and she became this being of pure fire. It was like she was burning from the inside out. Her eyes turned aqua, and the darkling god that was inside Fortarian, Gorjugan, thought he saw Anthros in her. And then she exploded.”

  “She’s dead?” Skye asked in a strangled voice. His eyes looked up at Rowan almost pleadingly.

  Leona shook her head. “Not dead. I still feel some line of fate for her, but she’s not here.”

  “We know that,” Rowan said. “What we want to know is where she is?”

  Leona only shrugged. “I don’t know that. I can’t sense it. She just turned
into this being of fire, then the flames exploded out of her. Then she was gone.”

  “Well, you should rest anyway,” Rowan told her, patting Leona’s shoulder. Leona flinched away from her. Rowan felt a stab shoot through her guts.

  “I’d rather rest at home,” Leona told her.

  “Of course, I think that should be fine. I will be by this evening to check on you.”

  “Do you need help?” Skye asked Leona when she swung her legs off the edge of the table.

  “Yes, please.” She closed her eyes against the dizziness and held her arm out for Skye to take. When he picked her up she let out a yelp and only struggled for a moment before settling into his arms.

  “Rowan, will you get the door?” Skye asked.

  When they left, she shut the wooden door and pressed her back against it. Rowan blinked away tears and stared around the greenhouse, barely seeing any of the plants along the tables and walls.

  She knows, she thought. She might not know what she knows, but Fortarian told her something, and it won’t be long before she’s figured it out.

  “Thank you,” Leona said to Skye when the door was shut behind them. “I didn’t know how long I could stay in there with her.”

  “What’s wrong little bird?” Skye asked her, his violet eyes mirroring his concern.

  “Something Fortarian told me. Well, he didn’t really tell me anything, but he alluded to the fact that Rowan is keeping something from me.”

  “He was a darkling, they’re masters at messing with your head,” he told her.

  “That may be so, but her reaction when I started asking questions was rather telling. She got weird, and tried to act like what he said was nonsense, but she failed.” Leona sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “And he made some rather good points.”

  “Like what?” he asked as they entered the trail leading down to the center section where Leona shared a house with Rorick and Abagail. Rorick was hardly ever home, so Leona thought she’d probably have the house to herself.

  Not that that’s going to do me any good when I can’t even walk on my own. She could just imagine tumbling down the stairs when she was trying to go to the bathroom.