Authors Note: Ah, yes. I've finally come to the fourth chapter. I plan on wrapping this story up within 10 chapters. So… On with the story!
And thanks for your reviews, everyone. D
Chapter 4
She woke up slowly, and Mogget sat there, urging her to get up all the while. "We must make it to High Bridge. I don't want to live on this puny island," he commented, "There's nothing to do here."
Without replying, Chlorr washed and then situated her sword, bells and other things properly. The weight was becoming familiar. Soon, they were on their way. Travel seemed slow and they walked without conversation for quite some time. Eventually, the stepped into a forested area and the odd shadows that the morning sun cast danced about their feet.
"I think they're following us." Mogget suddenly whispered into her ear. He had been draped across her shoulders, presumably asleep. Chlorr brushed her ear, as if to swat away a fly, and stopped moving.
"Who?" was all she said. Her hand went to her sword and the other instinctively touched the bells. Then she heard it. A twig snap, then a quick breath. Someone was definitely following her.
''Probably just a townsperson," he lied, casually. Something about the way he said 'townsperson' made Chlorr think 'necromancer,' but that was probably just her paranoia.
"Come out," she wanted to shout it. She wanted to run at the person, sword at the ready. But she composed herself, and spoke coolly. She hoped the person didn't notice the slight quiver in her voice.
A bush rustled. Some more snapping twigs, and then a young boy was visible. He appeared out of nowhere, it seemed. He stood next to her, a slight smirk danced across his face to see Chlorr's surprise. Perhaps he was just a townsperson?
"Who are you?" Chlorr asked, her hand that held her sword hilt twitched slightly. "What are you doing here?" she motioned at the dense forest around them.
"I'm…" the boy faltered, and looked away from her incredulous face, "Terciel." It seemed that he was reluctant to speak. He was probably lying. "And I've come from Belisaere. Who are you?" he said, without answering her second question.
"I am Chlo—" she stopped herself, "I am Abhorsen." She didn't feel like Abhorsen. She felt as small and inexperienced as ever. But he didn't need to know that.
"You?" he sounded shocked, "But you aren't…" His voice trailed off and he circled her, looking her up and down. "You can't be. My mother told me the Abhorsen was male." Chlorr took a quick breath and tried to keep down a bit of sorrow that welled up in her throat.
"He's dead. I am Abhorsen now," she said, swallowing the knot. The boy winced, and then nodded acceptance. He looked disappointed.
"Yes, well, I would like to get to High Bridge before the sun sets, so if we could get moving?" Terciel jumped as the white cat on Abhorsen's shoulders talked.
"What is that?" he said in amazement, poking Moggets white fur. "Some sort of sending?"
"No." was all that Mogget said in reply. His voice was ice and his green eyes narrowed to slits as he watched the boy pull his hand back. "I'm Mogget."
"What are you doing here, Terciel?" it wasn't a question, it was a demand. Chlorr stared at him, earnestness all over her face.
"My mother told me that she was leaving. And I had to go live with my grandfather, the previous Abhorsen. So she sent me off on my way to his house, which I've only visited once." His head was downcast, his expression sad—or perhaps it was angry? "But since he's dead, I guess that means that you have to take care of me." He finished, another slight grin flitting across his face. He looked about 14. Who would send an unarmed 14 year old to some place he had only been to once before?
Chlorr lifted a hand to her cheek and closed her eyes. She was investigating her father's death, which was bad enough, and now some child comes along, claiming that she must watch over him.
There was a long silence, as Chlorr took deep breaths and Terciel stared once more at Mogget's snow white fur.
"Have you had lunch?" Abhorsen suddenly asked. She couldn't tell him to leave. Where would he go? So she'd have to take him with her. Terciel shook his head, as much to answer her as to stop staring at the cat. Something about his fur was so welcoming. Perhaps its sleekness?
"I would advise you not to touch Mogget. He has a habit of trying to get his collar off," the boy cringed; she had noticed his stare. "And you don't want to know what happens when it comes off."
Chlorr sent Terciel off to find a stream, and meanwhile, set a fire and looked through The Book of the Dead. Already, its contents had changed. It had so much more to teach her.
"He is the Abhorsen-in-waiting." Mogget told her, eyes half-lidded. They reflected the flickering ballet of the fire. "You must teach him."
"I barely know enough to be considered Abhorsen." Chlorr spat, critically, "How should I teach him anything?"
"I don't know. I'm just a cat." Mogget seemed ready to say more, but then they heard Terciel returning. As he stepped out of the trees, they could see that he carried two fish. Mogget looked at one with abandoned satisfaction.
"One for each of us," he said, then noticed the white cat's stare and added, "But I'll give some of mine to Mogget."