Chapter 59

As far as anyone knew, outside of an engaging, damn near enchanting personality, Abigail had no magic. It sounded like her anxiety and nerves were catching up with her, resulting in a very realistic night terror. When she had been in the shower longer than he had expected, he slipped into the bathroom, frowning at the pile of clothes getting soaked right by the tub. Looking up, he could see her sitting in the tub with the shower on, water beating down on her, the curtain not drawn. She was… out of it. Maybe still drunk? Sighing, Taker shed the bottoms and joined her, pulling shut the curtain and helped her to stand.

"Tell me about your dream, everything you can remember."

"I was in the castle, dressed in white again, like usual. I…heard voices, so I walked down the hallway and it was Bray and Luke Harper talking. Luke said I was betraying him, basically trying to tell Bray to cut ties with me. It's not the first time he's done it. Bray grabbed him by the throat and told him I wouldn't betray him, that I love him." Abigail shuddered at that because her heart no longer belonged to him and hadn't for a while. It was Mark's now. "He said he was giving me one more week and then coming for me. I tried calling out to him, but he didn't hear me. He couldn't see me. It was as if I was a ghost or something…" Wrapping her arms around herself tighter, Abigail couldn't hold back tears and felt her bottom lip quiver. "I know you think it was a bad dream, Mark, but this felt…too real…way too real. It was more like a vision of some kind, I don't know…" Or maybe she finally cracked and was losing her mind.

"Darlin', you ever have a vision before?" He wasn't surprised when she shook her head in response. "I think it's… all this anxiety you've been having all week, Abbie." Taker lathered up her bath sponge with her body wash, beginning to cleanse her body of the sweat she had broken out into during her dream. "You've hardly been eating… and then tonight you were drinking, on top of seeing things really happening, a definite time for this all to happen. I think your mind is… trying to vent." It happened and she didn't look convinced. "We'll talk to Malcolm in the morning, darlin', okay? If you feel this isn't just a dream, then I'm wrong and he'll be able to help you better." He didn't mind being wrong; it was just that the simplest explanation was usually the correct one.

"I want to believe you, Mark. I want to believe you so much, you have no idea. But I feel like this is more than just a bad dream."

Abigail turned to face him, seeing the doubt in his eyes, and didn't blame him, not wanting to fight again like they did last time. She kissed him softly and hugged him around the neck, just needing his comfort and love to wash over her. Bray sent chills down her spine with how cold and vindictive his words were, she never wanted to be in that dark place again.

"I love you." Her voice cracked, and his arms tightened around her, clinging to him for dear life.

"I love you too, darlin'." He murmured, bending down to brush his lips against her head. "We'll go see Malcolm in the morning, Abigail, okay?"

If she felt this was more than a dream, then he wanted her to be sure one way or the other, for her own peace of mind. Bray Wyatt was now haunting her dreams. It was bad enough the man had taken over the majority of her life… Taker was suddenly looking forward to meeting this man and then taking his head off his shoulders.

"You want to try sleeping a bit more?" He asked once he felt the trembling stop.

"Yeah, please come with me."

She knew he was the leader of this town and usually up pretty early, but Abigail needed him right now. At his nod, she cracked a hesitant smile and let him help her up out of the shower, wrapping her in a towel before carrying her to the bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light with Mark wrapping her in his strong arms. Once this ended and the DOV was stopped, she would take better care of herself. There was a reason why her anxiety was so high, along with her fear, because Bray Wyatt was not a person to be trifled with easily. Abigail was also nervous about the dark magic part needed to break the spell on him.

Taker didn't fall back asleep. He was usually up fairly early, he usually also had very busy days from sunup to past sundown. Laying there in bed, holding her, Taker listened to her sleep. Abigail didn't seem to be having nightmares anymore, she was sleeping deeply, and he smiled, brushing his lips against her forehead. After an hour had passed, Taker gently adjusted Abigail on the bed, away from him, and quietly got up to dress. The sun was starting to rise, and he knew Malcolm would be up as well. He'd go get breakfast and his father, bring them all up here and, when Abigail woke up, she could get her answers.


Malcolm listened to his son intently, sipping his mug of coffee, and nodded to show he was paying attention, not saying a word. Abigail had encountered magic on more than one occasion and…he had a theory about this, but he wanted to talk to the young lady before saying anything. The Mythril dagger, the invisibility cloak and nearly dying in the mineshaft and then being with Mark, who had magic infused in his system. Unlike Mark, Malcolm did not think this was merely a bad dream and looked thoughtful, stroking his whitened goatee.

"I need to speak with her." He stated, once Mark finished and took another swig of his coffee. "I will know more and give you a definitive answer once she's awake. If you want my opinion, I don't think this was merely a dream, my son. I think…something has happened to her to make her see these visions, but I won't know until I…see her." It was the best way to describe what he had in mind to test his theory out.

See these visions… that made no sense at all because this was the first time she had had something like this, dream or not. Taker concluded that Malcolm was going senile or had forgotten definitions of words. He finished plying a tray full of food, vowing that Abigail would be eating today, she needed her strength. She was going to go rail-thin and stir crazy from all of this.

"Bring your coffee." He ordered, then smiled to make it seem less of an order, feeling awkward still, sometimes, around his father. "She should be waking soon."

Abigail was up, showered, and dressed, pacing the floor nervously when she heard the door downstairs open, her eyes snapping to the doorway. She woke up alone with a small headache, but that was to be expected after what she'd gone through. It was no surprise to discover Mark had brought Malcolm with him and she immediately sat down on the bed, clasping her hands in her lap.

"I had another one."

"Another what, my dear?"

"A…dream or vision…Bray is assembling his men…and he's leaving very soon to come here, 6 days to be exact. What's happening to me? How am I seeing this? How do I know this? I'm so confused and scared."

Her trembling form did not surprise Malcolm in the slightest as he set his coffee down and walked over to her, taking a deep breath. "Abigail, I want you to focus on Bray Wyatt." Her wide eyes looking up at him made him smile. "Trust me, I have a theory, but I want to test something out first. Now close your eyes and picture Bray, picture the castle and envision yourself there."

"O-Okay…" Abigail obeyed, closing her eyes and put Bray in the forefront of her mind, feeling Malcolm's fingers on her forehead.

Chanting tongues, old Latin, Malcolm squeezed her head gently and released her after a minute, stumbling back some. "I'm fine, boy." He assured Mark, who looked completely bewildered and cleared his throat, not expecting to feel a jolt quite like that. "Abigail, you've been…infused with magic, my dear." It was the best way to put it.

"WHAT?!"

"Please, allow me to explain. You've touched several magical objects in a very short span of time. It doesn't happen often because there isn't a lot of magic left in the world, but sometimes…only sometimes, the magic from objects or…people, can be injected into another person. The Mythril dagger, for instance, had powerful magical properties. You've been carrying that with you for a while now, on your person, correct?" He saw her nod and continued. "The invisibility cloak…you used that a lot during our travels together and with Ambrose, correct?" Another nod. "And then being…intimately involved with my son, who has magic infused within him, from his brother…do you see where I'm going with this? Somehow, the magic has infused inside of you and has given you the ability to see visions."

"B-But how?" Abigail whispered, sounding terrified and bewildered at the same time. "H-How is this even possible? How do you know this, Malcolm?"

"It happened to my late wife, she too was infused with magic and had the ability to see the past, present, and sometimes even future in visions. I tried denying it was happening to her, but…I was a fool. I never wanted her to be infused with magic and once it's there, it's there forever."

"Oh my god…"

"Wait, wait, wait…" Taker was shaking his head, trying to wrap his mind around all that. "So, because she's been in contact with not only Mythril," Which was common enough in Wonderful since most of their weaponry was crafted from it. "But my magical sperm," He couldn't help grinning at that one, it was hilarious seeing Malcolm shift uncomfortably. "She's got magic now?"

Taker credited it to her touching the Invisibility Cloak and mostly his sperm. Their soldiers handled Mythril weapons all the time. People like Dean Ambrose did too, and he knew Dean had a magical satchel. Taker began laughing, unable to stop himself. It was his sperm!

"It's a combination of all the magical objects. Our family had a lot of magical objects back in the day, Mark. Your mother came in contact with too many of them, combined being with me intimately." Malcolm explained, seeing Abigail was on the verge of having a panic attack, and took her hand, instructing her to take a deep breath.

Magic. She had magical powers…because she was with someone infused with magic and had handled too many magical objects?! What kind of messed-up karma was THIS? Abigail didn't know what to think about this sudden turn of events and could only look up at Mark while listening to Malcolm coaching her through breathing techniques.

"T-This won't hurt me, will it?" She asked hesitantly, looking at Malcolm.

"No. Well, emotionally and mentally, maybe, but…once we take care of Bray Wyatt and his Dominion, everything will be fine and you won't have to worry about a thing." This would actually bode well in their favor because she could tell where Bray was, his location, to be more specific. Excellent battle strategy. "My dear, you have become our new ace in the hole."

"She's always been the ace in the hole, Malcolm, stop trying to make her feel special. She already is." Taker rolled his eyes, setting out plates of food he made from off the tray. He made sure that Abigail's was loaded, followed by a cup of tea, something Amy said would be 'soothing', so he was willing to give it a go. "Well darlin', you being able to do this lets us know if the 'execution' idea is working. If he's not coming, we don't have to keep up with it." He bet that'd make everyone feel better about 'stringing' her up.

"No, he is. He was assembling his soldiers and strategizing with them in the last vision I had. He…mentioned you and killing you." Abigail swallowed hard, looking at the food, and immediately felt nauseous, tears stinging her eyes. "He also said he was going to kill Malcolm and everyone here, no survivors were to be left…"

This power she had…Abigail hated it already and finally understood where Mark was coming from. His hatred for magic…it was evil and vile…it made her very uncomfortable she was able to see what Bray was doing. When Mark pushed the tray toward her, she picked up the muffin and began nibbling on it, trying to wrap her mind around what she just discovered.

"The plan needs to stay as it is. String me up on your symbol or whatever and make him think you're going to kill me. We have to leave soon since he's leaving in 6 days and hopefully, we can make double time on the journey there. This has to be done on DOV soil, just like Malcolm said because of the dark magic."

"Darlin', I meant about our original plan," He said patiently, peeling the skin off an orange. "To string you up on my symbol and 'execute' you."

He wasn't naysaying her dream, or vision, whatever it was. Taker was just hoping killing Wyatt would put a stop to it right quick because, the way she was today, her body language, told him she wasn't all right with this magical side effect and he did not blame her one bit. People went to sleep to escape bad days and reality, not have hell open up in their minds.

"You'll be able to tell us if he's coming to 'save' you or not, it kind of lets us know if it's working."

"Oh. I get it. Sorry." Abigail frowned, not meaning to go off on a tangent like that, and hoped Mark understood, which seemed like he did. This was…a lot to digest and process. "I-I don't want to see my future…"

"If it makes you feel any better, my wife only saw the future once…but mostly, it's the present she saw. Only when she became nostalgic about something did she venture to the past with her visions." Malcolm made it sound like this was completely normal and, to him and his family, it was.

Abigail physically relaxed when he said that, hoping the same went for her because she didn't want to know what the future held. If Mark died, she didn't want to know when or how. Same with anyone she had grown close to since coming to Wonderful. As far as he was concerned, he was pretty close to being invincible, without having to coerce someone to put an invulnerability spell on him. He was protected, as cliché as it was, by his brother's love.

"I'll have Steve get started on rallying the troops, everyone is likely ready to go anyway." Providing not everyone was too hungover. "We can leave within a few hours, I think. Would that put your mind at rest, Abbie?" Taker asked quietly, wondering if that would be enough. It sounded like they were going to be meeting dickface halfway, which… would work, actually, because they wouldn't have to lure Wyatt out of the castle.

"Yes." Abigail nodded, continuing to eat her breakfast, and could see Malcolm was uneasy because this was it. The final battle, the final stretch. "Once Bray and his troops are taken out, we'll have to make our way to the castle to…find out who will survive and who will die."

Even she knew more blood would be shed due to the women and women children with any new babies…she felt nauseous again, not wanting to sacrifice anymore else. Mark wouldn't bring people loyal to Bray in their town. That would be too dangerous for everyone that was already here.

"We have a long road ahead of us still."

"Very well. I will gather up my supplies and what I need to bring with me. I will also make sure the blood is secure and ready for transport." Malcolm left the tower, giving Abigail and Mark a moment alone because, once they left, they would be few and far between.

"I need to go to the shop – Ron's shop. I need to see if he has anything white." Abigail hadn't done that yet and, since they were leaving, there was no more time to waste. "I'll meet you at the gates in a few hours." She kissed him and quickly made her way out of the tower, not giving Mark time to stop her.

Wearing white again…another wave of nausea washed over her.

He wasn't inclined to stop her, there just was no time. They would have nights together, in the middle of crowded camps, in the coming weeks. He'd have to ask Malcolm about silencing spells, wondering if he could make a tent soundproof. Actually, being able to do that over the entire camp would probably be a smart idea. Moving that many soldiers were going to draw noise, especially at night, when people wound down. Taker crammed a few sausages in his mouth, reached for his thermos of coffee, and headed out to get the ball rolling. Inwardly cringing when he spotted Abigail disappearing into Ron's shop, her shoulders slumped.