Abigail

3 - Abigail's Feet Know Best

Though the light of the moon had been a lighthouse in the plains around Nowhere, in the dense trees, it barely peeped through. Everything around her was pitch black. The Awake Forest was full of strange sounds in the night. Eerie rumbles, constant chirping, and the occasional long howl. It didn't help that Abigail didn't recognize any of the sounds.

Her heart was racing, and her only comfort was the surefooted-ness of her feet with her knack crystal humming ever so slightly in her ankle. Farther farther farther. Father father father.

Xander was a tower compared to the two of them, and a fast one at that. His long strides carried him easily through the woods, and he walked with a casual confidence she could not muster to pretend at.

Laz squeezed her hand. She looked at him, surprised. I must look terrified, she thought, suddenly self-conscious. Keep it together, Abby.

They had barely gone a hundredstride when Xander stopped.

"We rest until dawn," he said, gesturing to a pocket of mist she hadn't noticed. It faded away with his command, and a wooden cabin emerged from behind the fog.

"But—"

"Save your protests," he said. "You have no plan and insufficient supplies—and the forest is filled with dangers at night. We rest until dawn," he repeated, and his tone brooked no room for argument.

Laz looked at her with a "he has a point" face and Abigail sighed. She pursed her lips and followed them inside.

The cabin was warm, and simply furnished. A long couch and a small table with a kettle of tea in the kitchen behind. A better place to rest than the woods certainly.

They had barely passed through the threshold when Laz uncloaked and sat on the couch, one leg up on the table and one arm stretched over the seat. "A plan sounds good, chief," he said, waiting expectantly. "What did you have in mind?"

Xander glared at him "Get off my couch."

Laz looked taken aback but did not move. He opened his mouth, but Abigail cut him off.

"Shut up, Laz. Listen, Phantom Fighter," she said, pivoting to glare at him. "The plan is we don't have time. The talebearer said that the Skafi men will be killed at the Harvest Festival. That's less than two weeks from today! We get to Helvete, we save them, we come back! There's not a lot of choices here!"

"And where is Helvete?" Xander said quietly.

"How should I know?" Abigail exploded, throwing her hands in the air. "Let's go find out!"

"Sit. Down."

Abigail froze. Xander had a way of speaking that seemed to make him taller and more intimidating than moments before.

"See? So we can sit on the couch, can't we?" Lazarus said, crossing his other leg up on the table.

Abigail turned to him, glad to have someone to yell at. "Laz—shut up! You are not being helpful!" He rolled his eyes.

Xander said nothing, but Abigail froze as he approached, dagger drawn. With the hilt of the blade, he pushed Laz's feet off the table. "Abigail, there's a sketch pad on the mantle behind you. Bring it here."

She could find nothing wrong with the request and did so, sitting next to Laz afterwards.

"Listen up," he said. The palms of his hands were on the table, and he leaned over it, flaring at them. Abigail shuddered. "Let's get a few things straight. You don't know anything. You've been shut up and protected every single day of your life. If this is true—and I'm certainly not convinced that is is—but if so, then you will not be messing this up. Got it?"