The Chosen of Anthros Page 12

  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.

  “Then it’s happening. Soon the horn of winter will blow and call us all to battle,” Muninn said. She wrapped her arms around herself. “Prophecy is rarely wrong, but let us hope this one is.”

  “What does it say?” Leona asked.

  “Ragnarok is the end of time. It is the end of life. The end of all the nine worlds. Nothing will exist after the final battle except the void, the tree, and the Well of Wyrding.” Huginn’s words rang like a death toll through the dining room.

  “Wait. You need to explain this,” Abagail said. The silence in the room was overwhelming as if the very walls of the house had heard the truth in Huginn’s words, and it was frightened right down to the foundation.

  “What would you like explained?” Huginn asked. “It’s hard to explain what prophecy tries to say.”

  “I just don’t know how you suddenly came to the conclusion that this was the end of the world,” Abagail said. She leaned her elbows on the table.

  “It will start with Olik betraying the gods in some way,” Huginn started.

  “But that
’s nothing new. In one way or another Olik betrays the gods regularly,” Muninn said.

  At the name so many people had called their father, Leona and Abagail glanced at each other.

  Do they know? Abagail wondered. Do they know that father stole the God Slayer? It seemed like common knowledge to most people that she came across.

  “The darkling gods Gorjugan and Hilda will use Olik’s betrayal to free Anthros from the roots of the Tree at Eget Row,” Huginn said. “It is rather unclear at that point about the order of events, but there will be a great war between the forces of light and the darklings. Many of the gods will die. The nine worlds will cease to exist. Darklings will reign supreme.”

  That was really more than Abagail had wanted to know. Her hands began to shake on the table. At least part of the prophecy had come true; Dolan had stolen the hammer that was now bound to Leona.

  Abagail shook her head. How could she be believing this? Not too long ago she thought all of this was rubbish. She glanced down at her hand covered in the work glove. That all changed the day I got this. She hadn’t been ready for her life to change the way it had, but the plague turned everything upside down. Things she thought were only myth were suddenly more real than she could ever have imagined.

  “How will it happen?” Leona asked into the silence.

  Huginn shrugged.

  “We can’t tell, really,” Muninn said. “We don’t have that sight.”

  Leona took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

  “No,” Muninn said, cutting whatever Leona was about to say short with a hand placed on the younger woman’s arm. “We don’t want you to see that. We would never ask anyone to see that. Who knows what could happen to you if you saw such devastation?” She smiled encouragingly at Leona.

  “In fire, probably,” Huginn told them. “Some think the poison of Elivigar will swamp Eget Row and choke the life from the great tree, but it’s obvious that the tree will remain. Others think the fires of Muspelheim will consume all of Eget Row and the nine worlds.”

  “How do we know?” Leona asked. She turned pleading eyes up to Huginn, the one person in the room that didn’t seem to offer any kind of comfort. “How can we be certain that this is happening? I mean, Dolan could have taken the God Slayer for other reasons!”

  “The hammer!” Muninn said, shooting a glance at her twin. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

  Huginn only nodded. “So he stole Hafaress’ hammer. Makes sense. But I thought it said he would betray the gods. This seems to be a way to protect them.”

  “But the end. That doesn’t mean the end is coming.” There was fire in Leona’s voice. She had half risen out of her seat. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

  “Leo,” Abagail said, reaching out a hand to her sister.

  Leona turned away from them all and stood at the edge of the kitchen, her back rigid, her arms crossed over her chest. She wouldn’t look back at them.

  “Everything seems to point to Ragnarok.” Huginn frowned. It was the first sign she’d given the room that she had any kind of emotion at all regarding this. “This endless winter. The theft of the hammer. Anthros choosing his combatant.”

  “At least the Horn of Winter hasn’t sounded yet,” Muninn said, as if that was any kind of consolation.

  “That is the last piece,” Huginn said. “That’s when the forces on either side need to gather. We aren’t ready for that.”

  “But that could be hundreds of years from now,” Abagail argued. She couldn’t tear her eyes from her sister’s back. “If time in the Ever After runs so differently than our time, events that are happening there now might take centuries to catch up to our time.”

  Huginn shook her head. “This winter. That’s one of the last signs. And the chosen of Anthros.”

  “But the winter is only here,” Leona said, finally turning back to them. Her face was pale and splotchy. Her eyes were rimmed in red. “On O it was summer.”

  “That’s because here is where the harbingers of light have made their stand. The darklings are focusing their attacks here to try to be rid of the harbingers,” Muninn told her.

  “So this is where Ragnarok will happen?” Abagail asked. Her stomach swirled sickeningly. How could she even be talking about this as if it was really going to happen? The end of the nine worlds! This can’t be real.

  “The final battle will happen in Eget Row,” Huginn said.

  Abagail sat back heavily in her chair. Her fingers twisted together, caught in the memory of the dream. It was almost as if she was on the rim of the giant well again, watching the frost and ice rage down from the north. The fire and maelstrom raged up from the south, from Muspelheim. The entirety of Eget Row caught between fire and ice. On both sides was destruction.

  “Abbie,” Leona said. She grabbed her sister’s hand, shaking Abagail out of her memory.

  Abagail blinked a few times, and looked up at Muninn. Had she asked her a question? Suddenly it was as if she knew these twins. She had a memory of them in a grand white hall, by her side. People revered them, and feared them at the same time. Thought and Memory, Abagail thought to herself.

  “Thought and Memory,” she said aloud. It was like a whisper of her memory.

  Muninn smiled and nodded. She sat back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I remember hearing something about ravens named Thought and Memory,” Abagail said.

  Leona looked at her sister confused. She shook her head to clear it of her thoughts. “What are you talking about? I’ve never heard of that before.”

  “Huginn and Muninn, the ravens of the All Father. You’re said to travel through all the nine worlds, bringing information back to the Ever After,” Abagail said.

  “But that can’t be you.” Leona’s face was a mask of disbelief. “You’re not the same…”

  Huginn nodded.

  “It’s true,” Muninn said.

  “Then is that what you’re doing here?” Leona asked them. “Are you gathering information about the last battle for the All Father?” There was excitement in her sister’s voice, as if maybe Leona thought they would meet the All Father.

  “The All Father is missing,” Huginn said.

  “It’s normal that the All Father leave the Ever After from time to time to roam the nine worlds,” Muninn told them. “What isn’t normal is the Ever After being completely empty when he does.”

  “What about the Underworld? Is that empty to? Are the forces already gathering for the last battle?” Abagail asked.

  Huginn shrugged. “We can’t tell. It’s likely.”

  “Wait,” Leona sat back down. “This isn’t making sense right now. If you’re from the Ever After, how did you not know all of this stuff that was happening?”

  “We aren’t specifically from the Ever After,” Muninn told her. “We only go there from time to time to give the All Father information, and then we are sent out again. It was during our last mission out that something happened. When we returned, the Ever After was empty. Even Heimdall didn’t know where the Gods had gone, or why.”

  “We knew nothing about the happenings in the Ever After until meeting you tonight. Just because we give the All Father information doesn’t mean that he returned the favor.” Huginn said.

  “This is too much to process,” Leona said. “How did you know who they were? I’ve never heard of them before.” She turned to her sister.

  “I must have read it somewhere in passing,” Abagail said. Her brows ruffled together in confusion. “Then what are you doing now if the All Father is missing?”

  “Searching for him and the reason he left the Ever After,” Muninn said.

  “The reason everyone left the Ever After,” Huginn corrected. “The place is empty. Completely barren. Halls that used to be filled with the honorable dead in constant feast are now empty. The upper reaches of the Kingdom are devoid of the gods. Even the Balacrie are gone.”

  “Another indication of the coming war?”
Leona asked.

  “No, but it doesn’t bode well,” Muninn said. “If no one can locate where the gods and their armies have gone, then there will be no one there to defend Eget Row when Ragnarok comes.”

  “What can we do?” Leona asked.

  Huginn barked a laughter into the still air. Abagail jumped at the harsh sound. “There’s nothing we can do to stop Ragnarok.”

  “So we just give up and let it happen?” Abagail asked. Her face flushed with anger.

  “All we can do is be prepared, and knowing is an integral part.” Muninn looked at Leona knowingly.

  “Alright, I will come back to lessons,” Leona said. She sounded defeated, but also relieved.

  “Perfect, then we will see you tomorrow,” Muninn said. She rose from her chair and motioned Huginn to the door. “I think we’ve taken enough of the girl’s time.”

  Huginn nodded and rose as well. They shouldered their cloaks and as Huginn opened the door Muninn turned back to Abagail.

  “Huginn has been watching you. It’s great that you’ve finally got your wyrding under control,” Muninn said. “The anger is the hardest thing to master, and you’ve done that very well. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rowan takes that collar off you soon.”

  “That would be awesome,” Abagail said and smiled. As if the raven’s words reminded her that she was still wearing the collar, she felt the iron shackle chafe against her skin.

  The door closed behind the ravens and Abagail took a deep breath.

  “Well, they aren’t as scary as I thought they were going to be,” Abagail told her.

  “No,” Leona said.

  “Are you feeling better now?” Abagail turned to her sister. At least Leona looked better than she had.

  “Yea, a little. I’m still worried about classes,” she confessed. “But they’re right. This power has been with me for as long as I remember, but it rarely shows up when I want it to. Learning to control it would help with that.”

  Abagail nodded. “Let’s get out of the house tonight,” she suggested. “Let’s go up to New Landanten. We’ve been here for a couple weeks and I haven’t been up there yet.”

  “Are we going to spy for Fen?” Leona’s eyes sparkled at the thought.