Queen of Abaddon

by Heather Killough-Walden

All that she loved.

  “On the bright side, your parents can be counted among Astriel’s prisoners. They’re safe. That is all I can tell you.”

  “Why?” demanded Loki. “Why won’t you tell us more?”

  “Because, Loki, that is all I know. The fae are a powerful race, with gods of their own.”

  Raven was trying to turn everything over in her head, but her mind felt sluggish, as if she were trying to push something without wheels through the mud. She closed her eyes and ran her hand over her face. Her skin was against her hand. “How many?” she heard herself repeat, even as her brain begged her not to ask.

  Magus swallowed. Raven looked up at him. Their eyes met, and Raven’s ancient, chosen soul went cold.

  A god afraid to give a mortal an answer was an interesting and ominous thing to behold.

  “Thousands,” he replied at last.

  Thousands. Raven looked at the doll in the wet dirt. “Children?”

  “Raven, stop,” Loki begged her. “You don’t want to know.” He looked from her to Magus, his expression pale and desperate. “I don’t want to know.”

  There was a crackling sound, like a winter lake shifting in the noonday sun, and Raven turned toward Magus on mud that was very quickly freezing beneath her feet. “How could you?” This, she did want to know. “How could you leave us there in the InBetween with no knowledge of any of this?”

  “Because you would have fought me tooth and nail,” Magus replied. “You were enough trouble as it was.”

  Raven exhaled, and the air condensed before her lips. “How dare you? Why did you help us, anyway? Your debt to Drake was paid off when you freed him from the Witherlands. You couldn’t have been hiding us for his sake.”

  “The man you speak of exists no longer, Raven,” Magus said, his voice cutting and cold. “Any debt I may or may not have owed him is a moot point. I did what I did for reasons of my own.”

  “I could have prevented this!”

  Ice spread like frozen fire from the solid ground beneath Raven’s feet and crackled up the wall of the nearest home, freezing everything as it went. It must not have stopped at the barrier, because something inside the home popped under the cold pressure, sending glass or ice shards tinkling throughout the abode.

  “You honestly believe you could have stopped any of this, Raven?” Magus asked softly. His gaze narrowed. “How exceedingly vain. I expect better from you.” He shook his head. “Drake and Astriel are born and bitter enemies. What would you have done? Given yourself to Drake? Do you think Astriel would have simply accepted that? And what if you’d chosen Astriel instead? I can promise you Lord Tanith would turn the terran realm to ash before he would allow such a union.”

  A single flake of snow flurried from the sky between them before it was joined by another. And another.

  Raven stared through them at the god of magic, and little by little, shame joined the guilt flowing through her veins until they occupied equal halves of her consciousness. He was right.

  And this was all so wrong.

  Within seconds, the air was filled with the fluffy white of a snow storm. Whether or not there had been clouds in the sky upon their arrival in Trimontium, Raven wasn’t aware. But they were there now, and they were thick with baneful cold.

  “What do we do now?” Loki asked, giving voice to the same question that had just arisen in Raven’s mind.

  Magus turned to his acolyte and considered him. “Now we attempt to set things right.”

  Raven’s heart skipped a beat. “Set it right?” Her voice croaked a little under the strain of her tightened throat. But, what he’d just said was a spark to a bonfire of hope she desperately wanted to feel. The doll in the mud was an enormous object to her, refusing to be ignored. “What do you mean by that?”

  Magus ignored her however, and looked past Loki to a small string of black smoke coming from deeper within Trimontium.

  Raven hadn’t noticed it before. Somewhere, a house was still inhabited, and from its chimney rose the evidence of a warm fire.

  “There’s as good a place to start as any,” Magus said. “But first,” he turned back to Raven. “I want you to take these.”

  He held out his hand, palm-up. There was a small flash of blue-white light in the air above his open hand. When it vanished, a pair of slim metal bracelets remained resting in his palm. Their design was simple, consisting of a single silver band that opened and closed on a hinge and secured with a clasp on the other side.

  Raven frowned. “What are they?”

  “You’ll soon see,” Magus said. “Put them on. And try very hard not to remove them under any circumstances.”

  Raven did as he instructed, knowing by now that when Magus suggested doing something, it was best to simply do it. And she was hoping that if she did it fast enough, he would answer her question.

  When she touched the bracelets, a little buzz of remnant magic zapped through her fingers. Though this was of a higher potency than most objects, she was used to this sensation by now. It was the same feeling all magic items exuded.

  Raven slipped them on one after another and then lowered her arms to her sides.

  Nothing happened at first. But after a few seconds, a rush of warm air wrapped around her, sending her hair flying. She closed her eyes and shielded her face.

  The warm air passed, and the breeze died down. When she lowered her arms and opened her eyes, Raven noticed her reflection in the smooth ice beneath her feet.

  “What….”

  “Raven Winter is gone,” Magus told her. “At least, as far as appearances will reveal.”

  He was right. Raven’s reflection had been replaced by a female stranger, one with waist-length, braided red hair, light blue eyes, and some sort of decorative, and perhaps meaningful tattoo across the apple of one cheek. Her clothing had been transformed into black leather armor, reminiscent of a female version of the kind worn by the Bounty Hunters of Tanith. The bracelets were gone too, replaced by the black leather and metal bracers of a warrior.

  Across her back, where she would normally wear her sword, there was a quiver of arrows and a wooden longbow. Both were also black, and of fine craftsmanship.

  “The bracelets will not fool anyone with real power,” continued Magus. “But most human mortals will see what they are told to see. And your reflection will portray the same.”

  “A disguise,” Loki mused, coming forward to study the bracers on Raven’s arms. He had always been the curious kind when it came to magic.

  “It’ll do you little good if you can’t regain control of your powers,” Magus warned, and Raven looked up sharply. His gaze caught hers and held it. He gestured to the snow storm going on around them. “Your magic is like a scent you wear, Raven. And those who know you best will recognize the faintest whiff of it on a very distant wind.”

  Raven was frozen in that gaze, his words floating through her mind like the warning that they were. Finally, he released her from his hold, and she swallowed hard.

  “You will need the same disguise, Loki.” Magus held out both hands this time, once more palms-up. The flash of light came and went, and a moment later, Magus was holding a longsword in his grasp. “Wear it or hold it, it matters not. As long as it is relatively near your body, your disguise will keep. But once again, only for the weak minded.”

  Loki took the sword from Magus’s outstretched hands and lifted it in the snowy light. It glinted majestically, its long bladed surface inscribed with intricate carvings. Its hilt was wrapped in pressed leather, and its pommel had been fashioned into a solid steel dragon.

  To Raven, Loki’s form remained the same despite the sword, until she looked down at his reflection in the ice. A tall man with black hair and green eyes stood before her, wearing the same type of severe black leather she wore, and bearing the same type of facial tattoo.

  “To the outside world, you now appear to be what nearly everyone else in this region of the terran realm is: bounty hunters who have come to c
ollect the largest bounty the realms have ever known. I’m afraid you will not find yourselves amongst the friendliest company. Keep on your guard, and be particular about who you trust.”

  “And lastly,” said the mage god as he pulled something out from under his shirt and lifted it over his head. “You’ll need this.”

  He held it out at arm’s length, where it caught a few snowflakes and glimmered in the dim light. It was a long silver chain from which hung a single pendant medallion. The medallion was simple, but extraordinarily beautiful, a crystalline stone the color of a rainbow. Its hues shifted and shimmered, changing as it turned slowly on the end of its chain.

  “At this moment, Lord Tanith is aware that you’ve left Immaloria. Believe me when I tell you that he knows you are back on the terran realm and is searching for you full-force. He would have found you by now if not for the shield I’ve placed over you. But the Abaddonian lords possess a power equal to my own, and the only reason this shield works is because it is an extension of me.”

  Raven frowned. A chill rushed up her arms and then across her back. “As soon as you leave us, we will no longer be shielded?”

  “No. To maintain your protection long enough to complete the tasks that lie ahead of you, the shield will need to remain in place.” Magus paused here, taking a deep breath as he met Loki’s gaze. “Loki, most priests will tell you they hold their gods near their hearts. In your case, this platitude will be a reality.”

  Loki had already slid his sword into the sheath at his back. Now he took the medallion as well.

  When he did, Magus’s form wavered and crackled, as if it wasn’t really all there.

  “I’ve placed my own spirit into this stone,” he explained. His voice was becoming slightly muffled, more distant. “As long as you possess it, I will be with you, and as long as I possess the strength, you will remain hidden from the prying eyes of those who hunt you.” His form disappeared, leaving only an echo of his voice behind. “But lose it before it is time,” that echo said, “and you lose everything. We all do.”

  Chapter Three

  Raven stared at the long chain and pendant dangling from his grip and put her hands to her forehead, which was still warm. “Loki, what in the nine hells just happened?” Despite Magus’s warning, more ice spread from beneath her boots. “He… he just left us. He didn’t tell us anything we needed to know. He said we were going to try to set things right, but neglected to tell us how.”

  Loki looked from her to the medallion and back. He shrugged helplessly. “Maybe there wasn’t time. Or perhaps….”

  “Perhaps nothing. He’s left us to fumble in the dark.”

  Loki had dutifully slipped the medallion over his head, but Raven could see the loss of blood in his face and knew he was just as overwhelmed as she was. One omnipotent being was fighting tooth and nail to get to them, another had just more or less sacrificed himself to keep them safe. And they had no idea what to do now.

  She closed her eyes to center herself, then opened them and gestured to the small curling string of smoke rising from somewhere within the city’s center. “Magus seemed to think we needed to follow the smoke.”

  Loki nodded. He started walking in that general direction, but said nothing. He’d lost one god somewhere along the road of life, and he was trying very hard to maintain the faith he had in another one. So Raven forgave him for his silence.

  Now we attempt to set things right.

  The words were her light at the end of the tunnel. If there was even the slightest possibility that the war could be undone – that that’s what he’d meant when he’d said they could set things right –

  She could figure this out. She’d gone up against Cruor. She’d faced Asmodeus. And she’d spent the last….

  Wait, how long had she been in the InBetween?

  “Loki, how long have we been gone? We forgot to ask him.”

  How long had it taken for all of this to happen? For war to destroy something so grand?

  They walked side by side, and his gaze cut to her. He looked very unhappy. “I was closer to the wanted poster than you were; it had a date you probably couldn’t see.”

  Raven waited.

  “Based on that date and the condition it was in, I would wager it’s been just less than a year.”

  Raven stopped in her tracks. A crackling sound revealed ice once more beginning to form beneath her feet. Loki glanced down at it. “Magus was right, you know. You need to learn to control that. You seem out of practice.”

  “No, that can’t be right,” she said, ignoring him. The damage was too comprehensive, too thorough for it to have only been a year.

  “The date was mere days after Drake’s assent to Nisse’s throne. The posting was in good shape, despite the dirt and rain. It can’t have been more than a year old, Raven.” His gaze slipped to the remnants of the town around them. “A war waged between Hell and the Elven realm would be one of fire and magic. I have no problem believing this was all done recently. Elven magic is terrifying. You know that. And Drake’s power?” He shook his head. “Frankly, I’m surprised there’s anything left standing.”

  Raven blinked. She stared at him for a long time, the truth scraping through her veins like frozen blood.

  Then she turned away from her brother, her heel carving a small circle into the ice beneath her boots. She moved mechanically and on her own, toward the thin lace of smoke up ahead.

  A few seconds passed before she heard her brother catch up, but he kept quiet. The enormity of the situation was divulging its full self to them both, an epiphany of terrible things that left the soul numb and the mind spinning.

  Raven glanced up at the large white flakes that continued to fall around them. It wasn’t winter yet. The foliage around the edges of town had suggested early Fall weather, and at first, there had been a warmth to the air that hinted at remnants of late summer.

  It’s me, of course. Her emotions were as chaotic as her thoughts. She no more wanted to face them than she did the truth that caused them. As a result, they ran unchecked, bringing an early winter to the remains of Trimontium.

  The mage god and her brother were both right. She was out of practice. And the worst of it was, she could feel the leaking magic like a sapping on her strength, very slowly leeching it away.

  Snow or not, the cold did little to mask the occasional nasty whiff of rotting meat. The odor wafted by now and then and instantly threatened to turn her stomach. “I never thought I would long for the scent of cherry blossoms,” she said softly, breaking the silence.

  Beside her, her brother actually chuckled. She cut him a glance. But he’d slowed down, and was looking up ahead as they rounded a row of houses.

  “It’s coming from the library.”

  Raven peered in the direction of his gaze.

  “The scent?” But she knew what he meant even as the words left her lips. He was referring to the trail of smoke.

  The spires of Trimontium’s renowned library had seen better days. Dark magic had tattooed smoke stains across the marble bricks of its triple towers, and more of the same had carved its mark into their ivory tiles, leaving massive holes that gaped like dark portals. Every window was boarded up. But otherwise, the first and main level of the structure was intact, as were its front double doors.

  The smoke of a fresh fire rose from one of its many chimneys, indicating life somewhere within the building.

  “Do you think whoever is inside will even let us in?” Loki asked.

  “I remember you telling me that you asked Grolsch the very same thing before heading into the Temple of Magus a year ago.” They’d spent a lot of idle time in the InBetween. Summing up their individual experiences in the form of stories had helped to pass the dragging hours.

  “Yeah,” Loki nodded. He made a small, amused sound. “So, I did.”

  “Maybe this will have the same positive outcome,” she told him.

  Loki gave her a smile. “I’m proud of you for trying.”
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br />   Raven blinked. Then she ducked her head a little, took a deep breath, and headed once more toward the library. Loki remained at her side.

  By the time they were approaching the structure’s tall, intricately carved double stone doors, the snow was accumulating to half an inch beneath their feet. Raven caught Loki glancing worriedly down at the white film that was beginning to hide the devastation of Trimontium under its shimmering blanket.

  “If you don’t rein this in, Raven, you’re going to wear yourself out,” he whispered as they stopped before the doors. He landed her a concerned look. “And then you’ll have to feed.” He let the threat hang softly between them. “I know you haven’t forgotten what that means.”

  “Believe me,” she replied, her voice tight. “I haven’t.”

  She raised her hand and knocked loudly on the door. Beside her, Loki shifted closer and she felt him lift her braid a little. It was weird having a braid and not having one at the same time. The disguise was three-dimensional. And it also wasn’t.

  In a whispered voice that was suddenly filled with alarm, Loki said, “You have a mark on your neck.”

  She glanced over her shoulder, despite the fact that she knew she would see nothing. “What kind of mark?”

  “You aren’t going to like this. But it looks like an inking of the symbol of Nisse. Except it has another symbol intertwined with it.”

  Raven felt a thumping dread roll through her.

  “How… why?” she fumbled. “What kind of symbol?”

  Loki shook his head and frowned. “I don’t know. It….” Then his eyes widened. “By Magus, it’s Tanith’s symbol. It’s the one he always had on his armor.” His face had gone pale. He swallowed, and she could not only hear it, but see it move through his throat. “By the gods, Raven…. He’s marked you.”

  A new sensation of shock joined the already numb state she was in, and Raven lowered her hand from the door and took a step back. She wished she had a mirror – or two, rather.

  “I don’t know how you came about it, but I think you should take your hair out of that braid.”

  No bounty hunter worth their salt would go around with hair that could get easily tangled or blind them in a slight breeze. But Raven was pulling her braid over her shoulder to unravel the leather tie at the end anyway, when the massive doors before them began to creak open.