Free A Plague of Shadows by Travis Simmons Page A

the Gods, she started talking about Skuld as if she knew the inner workings of the Gods, and it irritated Abagail. “I kept the Hearth lit, I prayed to the All Father, I even set out lavender every Moon Day for Vilda. Even though I’ve seen the power of the All Father, and the darklings, it was just hard for me to believe any of this.”
    “I know, I felt the same way when your father started talking about the Nine Worlds and Eget Row.”
    “I think I believed in Eget Row,” Abagail said. The butterfly fluttered out before them, and continued on, her plum colored light shining off the opal bridge like purple fire. “I dreamed about it.”
    “Rorick,” Leona said coming up beside him. “I think one of the ghosts looked at me!”
    Abagail rolled her eyes. “Leona, they can’t even see us.”
    “Oh really?” Leona said. “Skuld says they can.”
    “Oh yes, by all means, the doll knows all,” She pulled her arm away from Rorick and walked closer to the edge of the road. There was a cool breeze drifting up from beneath the bridge, carrying with it a strange chorus of noises.
    She hated that she was being so mean to Leona, and couldn’t figure out why. She had to get her mind around it. It wasn’t Leona’s fault she was in the mess she was in.
    And then it hit her. She was upset in general, and Leona acted like it didn’t matter.
    That’s not right, and it wasn’t. Leona was simply too young to know better. She might only be a few years younger than Abagail, but it made a world of difference.
    Abagail tried to think about something else, and put out of mind the conversation Leona and Rorick were having just a few feet away from her. Their voices carried out into the darkness beyond the road, and then were lost to the night.
    She thought about the wind she could feel coming from beneath them. It felt like a winter wind, blowing in off an icy lake, and Abagail was happy she’d brought her cloak. She pulled it tighter around herself and slowed her pace, watching as her breath puffed out beyond the bridge in misty drafts.
    Abagail leaned over the edge of the opalescent road, her short hair tossing fitfully in the updraft. There was a strange smell on the air, like carrion. It made her stomach churn forebodingly. She frowned and was about to step back when a word traveled up through the draft to her ears.
    Helvegr, the word came, as if whispered from thousands of deadened throats.
    She looked over the edge again and thought for a moment she could see a sparkle of flames far beneath them in the darkness. The sound of creaking wood came to her, like a ship she’d heard once before in the port of their home town. Her mind remembered the ship in the picture she’d seen, but she shook her head against the image and pulled away from the edge of the road. She stepped to the center, where she was certain she was safe, and watched the spirits of the dead climb the darkness above Eget Row toward the glowing brightness above.
    She tried to forget the word, and found watching the butterfly before them really helped.
    “What should we name her?” Abagail asked, coming up behind Rorick and Leona.
    “Who?” Rorick asked, smiling back at Abagail. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.
    “The butterfly,” Abagail said.
    “I think we should name her Luna!” Leona said.
    “How do you know it’s a her?” Rorick asked.
    “Um, she’s purple?” Leona said.
    “Men can wear purple,” Rorick argued.
    “But if it was a male butterfly, it would be green or dark blue or something,” Leona said.
    “I think it’s safe to say it’s a female,” Abagail said.
    “Do you know something we don’t?” Rorick asked her.
    “Well, I don’t think it’s a butterfly,” she said, and then went on to tell them what she’d thought she’d seen when the butterfly drove the darkling off.
    “A pixie?” Leona asked.
    “It had wings, wouldn’t that be a fairy?” Rorick asked her.
    “It doesn’t have to be.