Mist Rising Read online

  Venna’s eyes widened. “A good thing you went out to find the baby. That monster would have eaten the sweetling for sure.”

  “Perhaps that’s what someone wanted. Why else abandon a defenseless infant at night on the edge of the Abyss? Who would do such a horrible thing?” Hiix couldn’t hide her indignation at such evil.

  “They wouldn’t have rung the bell if that was their plan,” Agathe pointed out.

  “Are you sure it rang? Because we heard nothing.”

  “Probably because your snores drowned it out.” At the same time, Agathe had to wonder if she’d heard the ring or if her Goddess had meddled to ensure Agathe would be in time to save the child.

  “I don’t snore!” Venna huffed.

  “You obviously heard something, or you wouldn’t have joined me in time to fight the monster.”

  “I heard something, all right,” Hiix muttered.

  “A good thing we arrived.” Venna stroked a finger down the baby’s cheek.

  The child’s head rested on Agathe’s shoulder, calm as could be. Unnatural given all that had happened. Agathe ignored her disquiet. After all, the Goddess had sent her to this babe.

  “We won’t figure out anything standing in the courtyard.” A grand word for a vast cave. The entire Abbae was a network of tunnels linking to other caves, some natural, others dug and reinforced. At night, only a half-dozen globes glowed, enough to get around. “Put out the fire. We’ll get the baby into the communal hall and find a linen to wrap it in before he or she catches a chill.”

  “I’ll carry the child.” Venna held out her hands, and Agathe almost turned with a hiss.

  As if she’d hand the baby over. Agathe had a duty to protect it. Their Goddess had entrusted the child to her. Chosen her for this special task. Tell no one. “The child is used to me. Best not shock it too much.”

  “I’ll wager the child is hungry. I’ll get some milk.” Venna hurried to their very small animal pen, now consisting of one goat and two chickens. Back in the day, they used to have more, but three people didn’t need much—and their last pig had tasted delicious once roasted.

  “What do you think? Boy or girl?” Hiix asked, leading the way into the communal hall. The trestle tables—made of stone and from a time when the Abbae overflowed with acolytes—remained in three lines, with the head table for the Maeder and the higher-ranked Soraers long vacant. The Maeder who’d welcomed Agathe had long since passed, as had the one after her. By then, no one really cared who got the job. There were only three of them left. Venna, Hiix, and Agathe. Soraers in their faith and friends so long that they might as well be blood.

  “I don’t know. One way to find out.” Plopping the baby on a trestle table, Agathe lay the child on its back and peeled the wet diaper from it. “Girl. Healthy-looking.” Well-fed, judging by the flesh on her bones. Good-humored, too. She’d yet to cry despite the action.

  “Funny, I could have sworn earlier her eyes were purple,” Venna stated.

  She didn’t need to say anything else. The King’s law was clear. Purple-eyed children were to be presented yearly at the Vionox held in the King’s City when the suns and moons aligned. There, they became property of the King and were never seen again. No one knew what happened next, and they tended to avoid the subject, given how much it upset Hiix.

  “You must be mistaken. Her eyes are very clearly a grayish-brown.”

  “What are we supposed to do with her?” Hiix asked as the baby reached for her. Hiix held out a hand for the child to grasp.

  For a second, fear hit Agathe, and she wanted to yell at Hiix, tell her not to let the baby touch her. Ridiculous. As if a child could hurt an adult. “I’d say it’s obvious what we have to do. Raise her.”

  “Us?” Hiix burst out in rusty laughter. “We’re old ladies. At least Venna and I are. A child like this will require much attention. Who will mind her when we have our needed daily naps?”

  “We’ll share the task in shifts,” Agathe declared. “Or not. If you don’t wish to aid, then I will care for the child myself. It is, after all, the Goddess’s will.” She’d waited her whole life for this moment. She wouldn’t fail now.

  “Never said I wouldn’t help,” grumbled Hiix. “Just that it’s a lot of work, and we don’t have any baby supplies.”

  A good point. Agathe had never seen an acolyte younger than her join the Abbae. In her decades, they’d had barely a dozen new Soraers. Older women who, like Agathe, had thought about giving up when life became too hard to bear. They took the walk to the edge of the Abyss, and like the Goddess had with Agathe, sometimes she thought them worthy enough to change their minds.

  “We don’t need anything complicated.” Agathe tapped her lower lip. “A way to feed her milk.” Their breasts were long dry. “A bed she can’t fall out of. We have cloth for nappies.” As clothing wore out and Soraers died, their pile of rags grew.

  “And what if she ends up with the purple eyes?” Hiix asked. She’d joined the Order after losing both a son and a daughter for having that particular trait. She would have done anything to keep her children from entering the Citadel and never seeing them again. Not that she had a choice. One could either hand them over willingly or suffer the consequences. Hide them and chances were someone would tattle for the reward.

  Hiix had told Agathe that the worst part was the money bestowed after. Her husband saw no reason not to enjoy their newfound wealth. Blood money that reminded her of their loss. Hiix left home the next day.

  Agathe stroked a hand over the baby’s soft hair. “I don’t care what the laws say. I will not hand her over.”

  “Whatever Venna saw was probably a trick of the light,” Hiix stated. “Babies are never born with the purple.” Most didn’t manifest until puberty. Only rarely did it happen younger.

  “That child is a miracle,” Venna declared, returning with some warm milk and having the forethought to bring a leather skin with a polished wooden spout that made an imperfect nipple. But the baby didn’t care.

  She drank, burped, farted, and went to sleep.

  But Agathe got no peace, as her Soraers laid into her.

  Chapter Five

  “What really happened to you out there in the fog?” Hiix asked, dragging Agathe away from the child, now sleeping within a wooden chest with its lid removed, the bottom lined with a folded blanket. A few solarus lights glowed softly in the stone chamber—not many since it took too many trips to carry them now, but they had no choice since they’d run out of candles.

  “You really need to do something about your senility. I told you what happened. You were there with me, fighting a tentacled monster.”

  Venna shivered. “What was that thing?”

  “Reminded me of a flakan, if it had an ugly cousin.” Flakens were creatures with bulbous bodies and writhing fronds lined in feathers that skimmed over the fog. Harmless creatures. But the thing she’d faced wanted flesh and blood.

  “Stop changing the subject. We all know we faced an Abyss monster. The first in forever. Is the fact you killed it why you returned…changed?” Hiix finally stopped dragging, and they stood by the basin for washing dishes. The spout—held together in a mishmash of parts—spewed water and soon covered the bottom. “Look and tell me what you see.”

  A glance into the basin showed a reflection, not a great one because of the subdued lighting and the ripples, but enough that Agathe recognized her face—and didn’t.

  She touched her skin, smoother than she recalled in a long time. Not completely wrinkle-free, but definitely improved. “I don’t understand.” Even as her mind flashed to the child.

  “Could it be the mist?” Venna asked.

  “I’m still just as wrinkled,” Hiix remarked.

  “Had to be the monster, then,” Venna stated with a nod.

  “None of the stories about fighting monsters had anyone emerging younger.” Agathe couldn’t stop staring at herself, running fingers over the newly firm flesh.

  “Did it spit on
you? Bleed? Breathe?” Hiix ticked off a list of items.

  “Breathed, yes. And the smell.” Agathe grimaced as she finally turned from her reflection. “Recalling the fetidness, I highly doubt it has rejuvenating properties.”

  “Maybe its breath moisturized?” Venna queried on a dubious note.

  “That’s the result of more than a really good cream.” Hiix shook her head.

  “The Goddess must have rewarded you for rescuing the child,” Venna declared.

  Was it the Goddess, though? Agathe dimly recalled the baby grabbing her cheeks. And what of the glowing eyes? Could the child heal?

  The baby certainly didn’t seem strange and otherworldly anymore. Her eyes were a rather ordinary brown. But like the others, Agathe would have sworn they had been another color when they first met. Did it mean something?

  Agathe had only met a few violet-eyed folks in her time and had never seen them as out of the ordinary. Not that she had known them for long, as they ended up being offered in service to the King at the Vionox Festival.

  “You must be right. The Goddess intervened.” And then, because it was sometimes fun to cause trouble, she added, “Guess I’m her favorite.”

  Venna snorted. “Guess again. I’m her special daughter, which is why our Goddess woke me and told me I had a special mission to keep the child safe.” Her Soraer clenched her hands to her chest and raised her gaze to the ceiling.

  At the theatrics, Agathe glanced sharply at her. “She spoke to you?”

  Venna nodded. “A voice inside my dream told me to rise and go forth to help save a most important child.”

  “The Goddess called me, too,” Hiix admitted.

  “And me. Apparently, our Goddess wanted to hedge her bets,” Agathe muttered.

  “Our Goddess is wise and smart. Obviously, the child is important to her, and we have been entrusted with her protection. It is a great honor.” Venna dipped her head and made a sign of fealty to the Goddess, her hand dipping up and down.

  Agathe almost snorted. Everyone knew the Goddess preferred offerings of ale and blood. “If, by ill-chance, the child does manifest purple eyes, we’ll need to keep her hidden from outsiders.” Which shouldn’t be hard. They didn’t get many folks popping in for visits.

  “Even if she doesn’t, if someone does show up, one of us should take her to the catacombs,” Hiix remarked.

  “You do realize that if she is purple-eyed, and we harbor her past the Vionox, we could be executed for breaking the law?” Venna pointed out.

  “I do.” Hiix lifted her chin. “They can toss my cold and dead body into the Abyss for the mist to consume before I hand over another child.”

  “Caring for this babe is the Goddess’s will, which supersedes any laws from a King,” Agathe argued.

  “I guess it’s decided, then. We’re keeping her.” Venna sounded most pleased. “A good thing I’ve got seeds left. We’ll need to expand our garden.”

  “I’ll check the defenses, make sure nothing needs shoring.” Hiix’s shoulders straightened with purpose. “There might be more monsters coming.”

  As for Agathe, “I think we also need to read up on our history.” Because she, for one, wanted to better understand what had happened outside. What did the appearance of the monster and the rising mist mean?

  With common purpose, they came together as Soraers, doing the Goddess’s bidding and finding out that life still had plenty to offer. Especially for Agathe, who, unlike her Soraers, had regained some of her youth. Appearing in her third decade, it gave her the energy to care for the baby, who proved to be very well behaved. And for a while, it seemed as if life would continue as before, albeit with a new face.

  That peaceful moment didn’t last.

  Chapter Six

  Hiix sounded the alarm almost a year after finding the baby. It had been a quiet year of teaching the child to walk, eat, and say her first word: More.

  Hiix was standing watch in the alcove, a grand name for the balcony at the highest point of the Abbae, large enough that two people could use it to spy or even defend, with slits useful for firing arrows—not that they ever had reason. It should be noted, however, they had no bow, arrows, or anyone that could fire one.

  Their weapons were, at best, pitted, but at least they’d been scrubbing the rust since the child’s arrival. They’d also taken more of an interest in defense. The mist hadn’t yet returned, but they all had a sense of something impending.

  It led to Hiix spending time each day climbing that ladder despite her bad knees and taking a peek at the path where she could see it winding down from the last bend to the final ledge and the Ninth Abbae of the Shields.

  A good thing, too, because, for the first time in a long while, Hiix had to shout, “Visitors coming!”

  She thumped heavily down the steep ladder with its rungs worn by time and ready to be replaced—probably for the last time. Agathe, able to climb with ease these days, felt sorry for her Soraer. She’d offered to take over the post, but full of pride, Hiix had refused and got snitty about it. “Don’t be trying to horn in on my position. You’re the doorkeeper, so keep your door.”

  “Fine. Just trying to help.”

  “You mean just rubbing it in our faces that you’re so young again,” muttered her friend.

  Agathe could understand their jealousy and didn’t know what to tell them. Admit that the baby might have done it? Better to let them think the Goddess loved her the most.

  Venna was the glue that kept them fed and dressed. Since Agathe didn’t have much to do with her door duties, she helped Venna with the garden. Today, it involved pruning back some vines to free dirt for seeding. She tucked the shears into her belt then met Hiix as she hit the bottom rung.

  “How far and how many?” she asked, knowing better than to offer Hiix an arm.

  “Within a quarter-turn of the suns. Party of four,” Hiix uttered.

  “Could it be a family bringing us a potential?” Venna asked, rising from the suns-lit patch of moss in the middle of the courtyard. The baby mimed her actions and stood, as well, a beautiful child, hair long and dark without any hint of wave. Her eyes had been showing hints of purple for months. No denying it, which was why they’d long ago agreed what would happen if they got a visitor.

  “Judging by the silver armor, it’s a squad of the King’s Elite.” In other words, trouble, since they had no reason to be down this far and hadn’t bothered in more than two decades.

  “Venna, take the baby to the catacombs. Hiix, secure the entrance.” The door to the ancient catacombs was hidden in the cellar by the kitchen. A cask would cover the hatch in the floor.

  “You aren’t going to let them in, are you?” Hiix asked.

  “I don’t see as we have a choice.” In their planning, it hadn’t occurred to them that the King’s soldiers might come for a visit. They never had before. They’d assumed a possible potential, perhaps some Soraers from another Abbae, checking on them. But the King’s own men? That was a trickier thing to handle.

  “It’s the King’s Elite,” Agathe reminded. “If I tell them they can’t come in, it will look suspicious.”

  “Why would they be down this far unless they know something? They must be after the brat.” The nickname Hiix had bestowed upon their foundling, who seemed determined to spit up on every clean thing they owned. It had stuck, despite the fact they’d agreed to call her Belle.

  “We don’t know that for sure.” But it was certainly possible.

  “Maybe we could tell them we have the plague,” Venna suggested.

  “And have them barricade us inside and try to burn us to death?” Hiix went to the worst-possible scenario. The way her mind could turn to the most macabre possibility made her good at defense.

  “We just need to keep repeating that we have no idea who they’re talking about.”

  “Lie to the King’s men? So easy,” muttered Hiix.

  “Would you prefer the alternative?” snapped Agathe. “It’s the best op
tion, and you know it. Or would you prefer fighting the King’s men? Even if we prevailed, do you think that no one would notice their disappearance?”

  Hiix’s lips flattened. “We could pretend that no one is here.”

  “Tell that to the smoke from that roast Venna’s making for dinner.” The large rat they’d caught would make a fine stew after. Then, because her Soraers still looked much too worried, Agathe softened her tone. “We just need to avoid confrontation. We’ll answer the door and tell them it’s a few old ladies living here. No one else.”

  “Old ladies? Ha. More like a grandmother and her daughter. Remember, Venna will be hiding.”

  “Speaking of which, we are wasting time. Let’s go! Off to the cellar with you two.” Agathe clapped her hands, and the baby mimed her with a giggle. Her sweet girl.

  As if they’d give her up without a fight.

  While Venna hid with Hiix’s aid to roll the casket onto the entrance, Agathe ran around, collecting items that might give them away. Blankets, toys they’d whittled and made of yarn. The chest had its lid replaced, hiding all the items, and just in time.

  The bell rang, loud enough that they heard it in the communal hall.

  Hiix’s lips pursed. “Remember, it’s just me and you.”

  “Is it wrong I’m second-guessing telling them that? They might think us easy targets.” Agathe hadn’t resided in the Abbae her whole life. She knew the dangers to women in King’s Valley. The lusts of men.

  Hiix frowned. “Guess that will depend on the kind of soldiers the King employs.”

  To which, Agathe couldn’t help but note, “They’re not so much employed as conscripted.” Purple-eyed boys taken during the Vionox became soldiers once they reached a certain age. At that point, they were allowed to leave the Citadel, where it was observed that they all bore dull brown eyes. As for the girls…all disappeared inside the Citadel, and the young ones were never seen again. People only ever saw the old ladies who worked for the castle, buying wares from the market.