The Chosen of Anthros (16 page)

Abagail didn’t hug him back.

“You worried about me?” she asked.

“Yes. Where did you go?” he pulled back to look into her eyes. Whatever he didn’t see there made him frown.

“A place where my illness isn’t a burden to those who are supposed to be my friends.”

His frown deepened. “I overreacted. I’m sorr—”

“You’re damn right you did,” Abagail said, a slight edge to her voice. “You know, for the longest time I thought
you’d
be the one that helped me beat this plague. It turns out, you’re one of the only things that can make it take control. I think it’d be best if you didn’t talk to me for a while. That is, unless your aim is to make me a darkling you can kill.”

Rorick could only shake his head. His mouth worked, but no words came out.

“I’m going to bed, and I don’t want to see you for a while Rorick Keuper.”

Abagail shouldered passed him and climbed the stairs at the back of the house to the second floor. She didn’t bother looking behind her to see his reaction. She didn’t care about Rorick any longer.

It didn’t take long for Rowan to discover what made Abagail angry. For the next week her training sessions were a mixture of meditation and mental abuse, or so it seemed to Abagail. Rowan knew what would bring the plague out, and that’s what she tried to do. She tried to put Abagail into a situation where Abagail would call on the plague. Accompanied by meditation Abagail was starting to learn how to push the anger aside and think with a level head. It wasn’t always easy, but it was always rewarding.

The days passed in a blur of training, doing chores, eating, and sleeping. At night she meditated; it wasn’t required of her, but she knew the need for her to get a handle on her emotions. When the house fell still and there wasn’t any noise from passersby outside, Abagail would sit on her floor and clear her mind. A time or two she even tried to conjure some kind of bad thought that would normally feed the plague, and each time she was able to push it aside and not let it bother her.

By the end of the week Abagail was gaining confidence that she would finally be able to get a hold of the plague and maybe stop wearing the collar.

The dreams of the All Father hadn’t resurfaced. A few days after she’d set fire to her bed Abagail noticed that Leona was less tense than she had been after her first day at Haven. Abagail worried that maybe Leona was on to something. Maybe there were more differences about the two of them than simply being harbingers. It was a thought that would normally make Abagail draw up short and fill her with dread, but the days were just too busy to worry about it. At night she was too tired to think of much of anything other than meditation and sleep.

But Leona had started to act better. Her initial upset could simply have been that she was settling into a new place and was finally able to relax enough to actually miss home.

Occasionally Abagail would see Rorick for a few minutes in the morning before dashing off to her chores, but it was rare. What was even rarer was seeing her old friend during the evenings and at meals. His guard duty kept him occupied most nights, and even if he wasn’t on guard his routine was thrown off. He’d started to hang out more with his trainer, Camilla, up in New Landanten with the elves. It was a place Abagail had yet to visit.

Abagail missed Rorick, but she couldn’t be sure that he missed her. She was still angry with him, and hurt because of his reaction to her. It was finally sinking in to her that Rorick
wasn’t
the person she was bound to end up with, and she wasn’t sure what she thought of that.

In fact nothing remarkable seemed to happen that entire week until one night after a large dinner with Gil and Rowan.

Leona and Abagail were just cresting the top of the stairs to their house when a noise caught Abagail’s attention behind them. She turned to see the raven sisters seemingly materialize out of thin air behind them.

“Hello,” Abagail said as Leona opened the door.

“Hello Abbie,” Muninn said. Abagail knew it was Muninn because she was smiling, and Muninn was the one of the two who wore a dazzling array of necklaces and bracelets.

Huginn stood to the side with her mouth pursed, and her hands clasped before her.

“It’s actually Leona we’ve come to see,” Muninn said.

Abagail looked at her sister. Leona seemed to find something on the point of her toe very interesting. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her wool jacket.

“You haven’t been attending classes,” Huginn said, shrugging her shoulders as if to settle her black feathered cloak better around her lithe frame.

“Actually, why don’t we step inside for this?” Muninn asked, and smiled.

Abagail nodded and motioned for the twins to join them.

Abagail took the twin’s black cloaks and Leona tended to the fire to help warm the place up.

“This is a nice place,” Muninn commented, looking around herself.

“It’s like all the others,” Huginn said, slouching into a chair. She crossed her legs, her eyes never leaving Leona.

Muninn harrumphed and took a seat beside her sister.

“Is there anything I can get you?” Abagail asked.

“That’s fine, we just had dinner,” Muninn said.

“Maybe you can tell us why your sister hasn’t been back to her training?” Huginn asked Abagail.

Abagail shrugged.

“It’s not required,” Leona said. She took a pose behind the chair opposite Huginn. She braced her hands on the back of the chair. “When I came here Rowan didn’t say I
had
to take any classes. I had to help, pull my weight. I’ve been training with Ephram and working in the greenhouse. I’m doing what’s required of me.”

“That’s unacceptable,” Huginn said. Muninn silenced her with a gently placed hand on her sister’s arm.

“What’s unacceptable is you trying to force me into a situation I’m not willing to be in,” Leona said.

Abagail took a step back. She’d known that her sister could be fiery, but she hadn’t heard her really be this hostile before.

“Leo,” Muninn said, a smile spreading across her pale face. “We aren’t trying to force you into anything. You’re the first that can divine the future that we’ve seen in some time, and now more than ever that gift is so important to all of us.”

Leona rolled her shoulders, but didn’t seem to relax at all.

“What did you find out with Fortarian?” Huginn asked.

“You went to see him?” Abagail asked, just now coming back to herself.

Leona ignored her sister. “I’m not sure if he’s the rising darkness in Haven or not.” She sighed and sat down.

“Rising darkness. Like the shadows I saw…”

Still, no one paid any attention to Abagail.

“Your gift isn’t going to go away,” Muninn told her after some time. “You can learn to control it and deal with it, or you can let it lead you around by the nose. There will be times when you want to use it and not be able to unless you learn to control it now.”

Leona nodded.

“We can’t help the truths we learn in visions,” Huginn told her. “There are times you will learn things about yourself that you didn’t want to. Things you didn’t want to know. Things that make you feel different than the person you’ve always thought you were.”

“Hafaress,” Leona said. She looked up at the sisters. Muninn wouldn’t meet her gaze, but Huginn met it without waver.

“Who’s to say for sure?” Huginn said. “It was words from a darkling. Those words can’t be trusted.”

“What is important is the rising tide of darklings,” Muninn said. “And we need your help. We’ve long suspected that there could be darklings among the ranks of harbingers, but there was no way to know for sure.” Muninn leaned forward and placed her hand on Leona’s. “You’ve already helped us so much more than you know. We are prepared now. But we still need your help.”

Leona nodded.

In the kitchen, Abagail leaned back against the cold stove and crossed her arms over her chest, just watching the three seers, one of which was her sister.

“What we don’t fully know yet,” Huginn said. “Is why the darklings are growing stronger? We suspect it was something in the Ever After, but that’s not anything we can see. Those are dealings of the gods, and mortals can’t know that. Still, there are other ways of seeing that don’t include our abilities, and our eyes tell us that something is very amiss in the Ever After.”

“I think I know,” Abagail said. All eyes turned to her, and she shifted her balance under the weight of those eyes.

“What do you know of this?” Huginn asked.

“Another seer?” Muninn asked Leona.

Leona shrugged at the raven.

“I’ve had dreams,” Abagail said.

“Yes, we’ve heard of the dream where you nearly ignited the house. What do you know of the dealings with darklings and gods?” Huginn wondered, her eyes veiled.

“Like I said, I’ve had these dreams recently about the All Father. I saw him lose his eye to gain the sight of the Norn and see what kind of damage he’d caused in the nine worlds.”

“How did he cause this damage?” Muninn wondered. She sat forward, suddenly intent on what Abagail was saying. The raven’s eyes bore into her and Abagail shifted uncomfortably. It was as if Muninn was at the point of discovering something she’d only suspected before.

“What kind of damage?” Huginn asked. “I feel like we’re starting at the middle of the story.”

“That’s how I felt too. That’s where the first dream started. He had done something, created something in the Ever After that tipped the balance of good and evil.” Abagail frowned. “I’m not really sure how, but he did something in an attempt to be rid of the darklings. Somehow, something more powerful than him that the Norn referred to as the void, compensated for his act.”

“The other god,” Huginn said to her sister. Muninn frowned at her.

“So the darkling tide is due to this creation of his?” Muninn wondered. “How on Earth would you know such a thing?”

Abagail shrugged.

“What kind of dream was it? Are you sure it was one of the sight?” Huginn asked her. “Have you ever had visions before?”

“You know that doesn’t matter,” Muninn told her sister.

“I haven’t,” Abagail confirmed. “If this was even a vision, it’s the first. As to what kind of dream it was, it was a powerful one. The kind that can set your bed on fire.”

Huginn nodded as if that explained a lot. It didn’t really explain anything to Abagail.

“But the All Father lost his eye so long ago,” Muninn said.

“It seemed like it just happened,” Abagail said.

“Time runs differently there than it does here,” Huginn said. She motioned with her hand as if batting aside the argument.

“So what happened there just now could have been really eons ago?” Leona wondered.

“Yes. Time only exists for mortals. The Gods see time differently. It’s not a linear thing for them.” Huginn nodded.

“So what else did you see?” Muninn wondered. “And what did he create that tipped the scales so much?”

“A being?” Abagail said. “I think it was another god. As for what else I’ve seen, not much. The All Father was trying to correct his mistake and then he was leaving the Ever After.”

“That explains so much,” Huginn said.

“Boran,” Muninn nodded. “I’d feared as much.”

“I’m glad it explains something to you,” Abagail told the raven.

“What does it explain?” Leona shrugged.

“For the longest time we’ve felt as though events were building toward prophecy,” Muninn said.

“The All Father said something about prophecy too. He was chosen by Anthros, whatever that means.” Abagail furrowed her eyebrows wishing she could remember more of the dream.

“The chosen of Anthros,” Huginn said. The way she said it was almost reverent, a kind of sigh.

“It means he’s been marked by Anthros to be the one to kill the wolf in the end days,” Muninn said. She didn’t sound reverent at all. The raven’s hand shook and she refused to meet Abagail’s eye. “You’re sure he said chosen?”

Abagail remembered the white wolf, shot through with highlights of silver. His aqua blue eyes bearing down on her. He was a giant of an animal. At times he was the size of a horse, but then other times she saw him, Anthros was as tall as the tallest tree.

“Yes.” Abagail swallowed past the lump of fear in her throat. “He indicated that he was chosen by Anthros.”

“Then it’s close,” Huginn said. Still she wasn’t ruffled. It was like she spoke of nothing more than the weather. “Ragnarok.”

“Helvegr,” Muninn said.

“Wait,” Leona stood up strait. “What did you say?”

Chills raced up Abagail’s spine. She hadn’t heard that word in a while.

“Helvegr,” Huginn said. “The path to Ragnarok. The path to the end of days.”

“We’ve heard that before,” Abagail said. She finally sat down, her knees too weak to hold her any longer. She sank into a chair at the table, her eyes locked on her sister’s eyes.

“When?” Muninn asked. She eased forward, now trying to catch Abagail’s gaze.

“When we first started on our journey. It’s been kind of dogging us the entire way,” Leona said.