Abigail

2 - Abigail Falls Out of Nowhere

Abigail followed her feet. They took them out through the worn stone hallways, narrow paths and sloping low ceilings. Past the rusting suits of armor, some partly toppled over from years of children running through the halls and a general lack of upkeep. The hallways were silent and clear. The path to the door was as simple as one foot in front of the other.

"Together?" Laz said. She nodded, and they pushed the heavy steel and wood structure back, creaking on its hinges as it went.

They stepped outside. Her hands were cold and trembling, the pack of food she had "borrowed" from the kitchens gripped in her white knuckles. Snow was falling, and the world was bright with the light of two moons, light reflecting all around them. For a moment she forgot the cold, and, shaking the snow from her hair, she stood and looked at a world that had never before felt so large.

"That side going thin?" Laz said, with a gesture right?"

She shook her head. "This way." Although she had gone through the evermist several times, she had never tried taking someone with her. She did her best to look confident as she pulled him toward the thinning edge.

"Are you sure about this?" His voice was nervous.

She snorted. Leaving the only home I've ever known. Going to save a man I barely remember. On the basis of a talebearer I didn't pay.

Sure?

She pulled on his arm and pushed deeper into the mist.

"It's not working, Abby—it hurts like the icedaggers in here—"

"Shut up," she said angrily, tugging harder on his arm. "It has to—whoa!"

The mist gave way suddenly with an audible whoosh. The tumbled through and rolled head first into the snow banks.

Laz groaned from beside her. "Is it always this way?"

"No," Abigail admitted, pushing snow off her lap and standing up. If it was cold before, the breeze was a murderous freeze now.

A deep voice cut through the winter air.

"WHO DARES TO PASS HERE?"

Her eyes widened.

***

Abigail scrambled to her feet, breathing heavily. The man was as tall as the suits of armor that lined the hallways back home, but willowy and tan—and real. Holstered to his waist was a dagger with a single green jewel in the hilt, and behind him, Abigail could see the ends of a massive longbow.

She cleared her throat. "Can I help you?" she said finally, trying to keep her voice even and her hands steady.

The falling snow was catching in his gray beard as it fell. She forced her eyes upward to meet his and found his bright green gaze piercing. A pause. His eyes shifted to her braid, and his bushy gray brows narrowed.

"You passed through the evermist," he said, incredulous.

Abigail blinked. Laz grabbed her arm and yanked her behind him.

"Who are you?" Laz said. There was a flash of metal and his wood carving blade was drawn in his hands like a weapon.

The man raised his brow. "I wouldn't choose this fight, cub. Save it for cleaning your teeth."

Laz's face colored as red as his curls, but he did not lower the knight.

Stepping back, the man gave a slight bow and lifted his hands, palms up. "I am the guard of Nowhere," he said.

Abigail gasped. Evermist was flowing out of his hands, like water, and below it, right in the center of his palm, she thought she could just see the glint of a knack crystal.

"This barrier protects you," the man said, his voice stern. "Why have you left it?"

Abigail pushed back in front of her brother, heart racing. "You are a Skafi man?"

He bowed his head again.

"Then you will not stop us," she said firmly. "We go on a quest. A quest to find the rest."

"The rest?"

Abigail leaned in, her voice pitched to a whisper. "They are alive," she said.

His eyes turned soft with pity, and Abigail felt the flare of rage burn within her at the sight. "The Historian was very clear," he said. "It is not—"

"I'm not interest in history!" she exploded. Laz shifted behind her, antsy for what to do next. "If there is even a chance that they live, isn't any Skafi brave enough to be interested?" Anger made her tremble.

"Lower your voice, girl," the man said dismissively. "You're in the world now, and it doesn't look kindly on our people."

"Let's go, Laz." She sauntered past him, but the man held out his arm. "Let me pass," she said, eyes narrowing. "You've already seen I can pass through your mist. You won't always be standing here to stop me." She met his eyes with a fierceness of her own. "One way or another, I will go. And I will find them." She was out of breath, but she did not look away.

The man was unreadable as he looked at her. Then he laughed, a single, tension-breaking syllable. "How very like your mother you are," he said then, and Abigail nearly fell over in surprise.

"My—"

"I will not let you pass," the man continued, holding up a hand as her mouth opened to protest. "I will come with you. Abigail, isn't it? Daughter of Adeline the Gentle."

"Yes, how did you—"

Lazarus stuck his hand out. "And Lazarus," he said, "Son of Ethan the Strong."

"Better friends I never knew," the man replied, clasping Laz's outstretched hand. "I am Xander the Phantom Fighter, and the sole survivor of the Last Battle."

"Not the sole survivor," Abigail said grimly. "Not if I'm right."

And behind his bushy, carelessly chopped beard, Xander smiled.