Chapter 13

“What happened to the people?” Avera couldn’t have said why she whispered. Blame the eerie feel of the town. It was as if the inhabitants simply walked away.

Without any of their belongings.

Their first hint of something amiss occurred as they entered the outskirts of Herder’s Respite. A house stood on its lonesome. The garden was overgrown and ripe with vegetables, the yard empty of people, laundry flapped on the clothesline, some of it twisted as if caught in a strong wind and forgotten. Of more concern was the open front door.

With a hand on the hilt of his sword, a grim-faced Gustav approached the home. As he neared the gaping entrance, he called out, “Hello, anyone there?” When no one answered, he stuck his head inside only to emerge shaking it. “It’s empty.”

“Maybe they’re hiding because they don’t like strangers?” Josslyn opined.

“More like they left in a hurry. Dinner is still on the table. With a layer of mold, I should add, before you get ideas about eating it.”

“Any smells?” Avera asked.

“What an odd thing to ask,” Josslyn exclaimed.

But Gustav understood. “If someone died it wasn’t inside.” A decomposing body left an unmistakable stench.

Avera glanced at the road leading into the town. A road empty despite it being just past the noon hour. “Something’s not right.”

“Agreed,” Gustav stated, rejoining them. “Should we turn around?”

“And go where?” Avera waved her hands. “We can’t go back, and Fraegus Spire is in sight.” Indeed, the tall mountain, wreathed in mist, loomed over the small town.

“What if it’s the plague?” Josslyn asked, her brow creased in concern.

“A plague leaves behind bodies,” her brother replied.

“Could be they were removed,” she countered.

“Removed but the door left open and unmarked?” Gustav riposted. While it didn’t happen often, illness did sometimes sweep the population. Homes with the infected had Xs painted upon their doors to warn people not to enter.

“What if it was marauders who kidnapped them?” Avera suggested.

Everyone had heard the stories of how they abducted people for slaves. It usually happened elsewhere, though. Daerva never had that issue because of their inaccessibility.

“The marauders tend to stick close to their ships. Herder’s Respite is too far inland.” Gustav glanced towards the town. “If you’re scared, stay here while I check on things.”

“Should we be splitting up?” Avera didn’t like the idea of them being separated.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Josslyn groused. “If you’re going into town, then so are we.”

“Stay close,” Gustav commanded. “Let’s see if this abandoned home is an anomaly.”

It wasn’t.

They found more open doors, numerous tables laden with dishes and food gone fuzzy from being left out. Not all of them were at the same stage of decay, as if some had been sitting for longer. As they strolled about, poking their noses into the houses, not a single soul challenged their curiosity. They also did not come across any bodies. They did, however, find a few homes showing disturbances. Chairs knocked over. Some dishes shattered on the floor. The few weapons the townsfolk owned appeared to still be standing in corners or hung on walls. They also didn’t find any blood or vomit or signs of diarrhea which would have been the confirmation of a plague sweeping through.

As they finished their first pass through the town, Josslyn pursed her lips and said, “Where’s the animals?”

Only then did they realize not only were the usual cats and dogs absent, but they also heard no birds or insects. Even the chicken coops were bare.

“What happened? How does every living thing in a town simply disappear” Avera mused, hands on her hips as she turned in a full circle in the town square.

“It is odd we didn’t find any bodies. While the stalls for the horses are empty, the wagons are still parked. Can’t see folks fleeing without them.” Gustav rubbed his chin.

“Seems to me the only reason people would run away from everything they own is if something scared them.” Josslyn hugged herself as if chilled despite the shining sun.

“But that doesn’t explain the animals.” Avera pointed out.

Gustav slapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Well, there’s one good thing about it being empty. We’ll be able to find some clothes and probably even some food that hasn’t spoiled. We’ll take the rest of the day to outfit ourselves, get a good night’s sleep in a bed, and tackle the spire in the morning.”

“You want us to sleep here?” Josslyn squeaked. “Is that wise, seeing as how the whole town disappeared?”

“Where else you wanna go?” Gustav drawled, sweeping a hand. “Back into the woods? Straight into the mountain? We don’t really have many choices.”

Josslyn’s lips pinched tight, and Avera felt sorry for her. She’d not asked to be dragged into Avera’s drama or danger. If not for Avera, Josslyn would be at home, managing her winery.

“Neither of you have to stay. My mother said only I should visit the spire. Gustav, why don’t you take Josslyn away from here and I’ll meet up with you the day after tomorrow once I’ve done whatever it is I’m supposed to do on that mountain?”

“I am not leaving you,” Josslyn huffed. “I’m just pointing out that we need to be cautious.”

“Agreed. We can find a house with a large room we can barricade and take turns keeping watch,” Gustav suggested.

“Assuming it’s an outside threat. For all we know the food is poisoned.” Josslyn’s tart reply.

“If it were poison or plague there’d be dead bodies all over,” Gustav reminded.

“Maybe it made them hallucinate and they ran into the woods,” Josslyn snapped back.

“More like fled to the mountain, since we saw no one on the way in. And I doubt it was the food. Everyone would have been eating something different. Only way something would hit everyone is if it got into the town’s water supply.” He glanced at the fountain with its unrippled and clear liquid surface.

“Are you saying we can’t have a drink?” Avera’s mouth suddenly went dry as if the mere suggestion could parch.

“I’m sure we can find some wine.”

Avera grimaced. “You know I’m not fond of the stuff.”

“I am,” Josslyn murmured. “And I’d like several cups of it, please.”

“We could boil the water first,” Gustav suggested.

Avera shook her head. “No point, because I won’t drink it. Not if there’s a chance it will harm me.”

“Technically, we’ve seen no signs of injury.”

“Still not drinking it.” Avera wouldn’t take any chances.

“If it helps, I could tether you in case you tried to wander.” Gustav offered a solution.

“Or we could backtrack to the stream we saw in the woods,” Josslyn suggested. “I saw a deer drinking from it before it ran away when it scented us.”

“Are we all going, or just me?” Gustav asked.

Avera bit her lip. Before she could reply, she noticed Luna drinking from the fountain.

“Luna, no.” Her steed flicked its ears and kept on slurping.

And what did Avera do?

Watched.

They all did.

Luna didn’t suddenly gasp for air or bolt. She flicked her tail and farted.

“Guess we’ll soon see if it’s the water,” Gustav opined.

“I’m going to tether her just in case,” Avera stated, grabbing Luna’s bridle. They found a barn attached to a large house. The stone facade and relative wealth of it in comparison to other homes likely made it the marquis’ residence—the marquises being those who governed the towns.

Inside they found the same situation as the other houses. A kitchen that appeared abandoned after the meal, the dishes still soaking. The beds remained tidy. The closets full of garments. Best of all, they found a chamber with a tub, over it a spout and handle. When pumped, water poured in.

Josslyn squealed. “We can have a bath.”

“I thought you didn’t trust the water,” Avera stated as the other woman worked the lever.

“I am not planning on drinking it. I’ve never felt so grimy in my life.”

Avera hadn’t either, so when a clean Josslyn finished bathing, she took the plunge, literally dunking herself in the water and scrubbing hard. Wrapped in linen towels, they then checked out the closets for garments.

Josslyn held out a dress which was wide all over but short. “It will barely cover my knees,” she exclaimed.

Meanwhile, Avera had found the marquis’ wardrobe and held out a pair of soft britches. “I’m thinking these might be better than skirts for mountain climbing.”

“Ooh. And they’re a closer fit.”

Shirts and jackets completed their ensembles. Avera found a belt with an attached sheath for her dagger. She dumped the pockets of her skirt to find an apple, a ribbon, and the amulet she’d forgotten she had. She still hadn’t found time to examine it, but each time her hand brushed it, she got tingles. Despite not knowing its use, she draped it around her neck, the disc hanging below the locket.

When they emerged, dressed in men’s clothing, Gustav took one look and arched a brow. “Interesting choice.”

“You mean practical,” Josslyn declared.

“And warm.” Avera hadn’t realized how chilly the skirts left her legs until they were fully wrapped in pants. “There’s thicker jackets and other apparel as well to keep us cozy.”

“Maybe for you. I won’t fit in that,” stated the broad-shouldered rook. “I’ll go check out some of the offerings in the other houses. Coming?”

Avera almost said yes, only to find her gaze distracted by a bookshelf in the parlor. “Actually, I’m going to see if there’s anything written down about the spire. Could be the town closest to it kept some kind of record or wrote down some stories that never made it to the capital.”

“Lyn?” Gustav glanced at his sister.

“I’ll stay with Avera. But do hurry back. Worrying causes wrinkles.”

His lips curved. “We wouldn’t want that to happen.”

The rook left and Josslyn sighed. “It is nice to feel almost normal again.” She flopped in a chair. “I guess if the spire turns out to not be helpful, we could stay here.”

“We could,” Avera replied, knowing it would only be temporary. If she were to stop Benoit and clear her name, she couldn’t hide forever.

“Do you really think you’ll find anything?” Josslyn questioned as Avera read the spines on the books, most about the raising of sheep and goats.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t hurt to look.” Alas, none of the books appeared to mention the spire.

“You should try the marquis’ desk. Could be he kept a log of town events.”

Avera whirled. “That’s a great idea.” If the marquis were as meticulous as her mother, he’d have written down everything.

But, alas, he didn’t. She found nothing of interest, simply invoices for work done on the fountain and road. A ledger showing taxes collected. A half-written poem that appeared to be an ode to someone’s breasts. Thy bountiful bosom of delight, to rest my head every night.

Discouraged, Avera wandered in and out of the other rooms. One the marquis had shared with his wife, the bed large and covered in a warm quilt. Another chamber must have belonged to a young boy, judging by the tin soldiers on the floor. Another seemed girlish with all of its pink hues.

Avera trailed her fingers on the comforter embroidered with flowers only to pause as she felt a ridge. Pulling back the cover, she found a notebook. She flipped it open and the first words were written in large letters: Don’t Read. That means you, Kevin.

Avera went to put it back when Josslyn entered. “What did you find?”

“Someone’s diary.”

“Oh, how intriguing. What’s it say?”

“I can’t read it,” Avera exclaimed. “It’s private.”

“The owner is gone, and for all you know, they might have written something to explain what happened.” An impatient Josslyn yanked it from her grip. “Since you’re reluctant, I’ll do it.” She flipped immediately to the last page and blanched.

“What? What is it?” Avera asked.

“The last line says , ‘I doubt any of us will live ‘til morning .’” Josslyn flashed the book and showed the sloppy scrawl that didn’t match the neat, tight lines on the opposite page.

“What else did she write?” With her curiosity piqued, Avera lost her qualms about reading it.

“Let’s go back a bit and see.” Josslyn flipped several pages before reading aloud. “‘ I met with Johnny again in the barn . Mother would be appalled if she knew, and father would most likely run him out of town. They don’t understand. We’re in love.’”

“That’s not exactly helpful,” Avera noted.

“Hold on, there’s more. ‘ We parted with a kiss just as a strange mist rolled over the town. A good thing I was close to the house for I couldn’t see a thing. Poor Johnny, I hope he managed to find his way home and didn’t bump his face on any walls. Although if he does, I shall kiss his injury better.’ ”

Avera pursed her lips. “A girl sneaking out to meet a boy and seeing some fog doesn’t explain what happened.”

“Don’t be so sure, listen to this.” Josslyn cleared her throat. “‘ I snuck out to see Johnny last night again, even though I hate having to hide our love. Father doesn’t approve of him. A marquis’ daughter should aim to marry a lord, he says. Mother has asked, what lord, for we live at the end of the world. Or so it feels. No one comes here because of the spire. They are scared. I don’t know why. It can be quite beautiful. Off to see my love .’” A pause then, Josslyn murmured, “‘ Johnny never showed. Apparently, he never went home after our tryst. Father has arranged search parties for he's not the only one missing. Letty and little Bryon have gone missing too. The mist yester eve must have turned them around.’”

“Sounds as if some people got lost in the fog which explains a few missing folks, not all of them,” Avera mused aloud.

“Except the mist kept returning.” Josslyn pointed to the journal. “‘ The mist has been creeping down the mountain every night, and every morning more people are gone. Father has put out a notice that everyone is to be inside before nightfall and to shutter all the doors and windows. Johnny is still missing. I fear the worst. I am so tired, but not just from searching. I didn’t sleep well last night. Mother kept me up, pacing and muttering about someone singing outside. She accused me of lying when I said I couldn’t hear it. I wonder if that rabbit she cooked might have spoiled .’”

“Sounds as if her mother was hallucinating,” Avera murmured. “But if it were the food, wouldn’t they all have been affected?”

“It does seem odd only her mother heard things.”

“Is there more?”

Josslyn nodded. “The next bit is a bit harder to read. The ink smeared as if she were crying. ‘ The mist rose suddenly in the middle of the afternoon. I was inside when it hit, peeling potatoes for dinner. Father was in his office, but mother was delivering some soup to the families that lost people. She never returned. So many disappeared, as if the fog ate them. I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m scared.’”

Chewing on the tip of her thumb, Avera paced. “I’ve never heard of a mist that steals people.”

“I’ve never heard of a whole town disappearing, and yet here we are.”

Avera glanced outside at the sunlight waning as the afternoon crept to dusk. “Should we fetch Gustav? He needs to know.”

“Knowing him, he won’t leave us alone for long. But I am thinking we need to find a secure room, one where this mist can’t enter.”

“Is there one? After all, the marquis and the one who penned the diary are gone. Did they manage to escape?”

“They tried. Listen to the next bit. ‘ Father has told everyone to leave. Less than a third of us remain. Where will we go? This is my home. He says we must only bring what we can carry, but how do I choose? If only the horses were still in the stable, but they, too, are gone. Perhaps it would be better to join them. I miss my mother.’”

“It took the animals. But where are the bodies? The bones? This doesn’t make sense.”

“Could it be related to why your mother told you to visit?”

Avera shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t say much about it other than I needed to come.”

“I wonder if your mother’s death is linked to it.” Josslyn flipped back a few pages and pointed. “Look at the date for the first entry mentioning the mist.”

“It began the day after she died,” Avera murmured.

“Perhaps you can stop it?” Josslyn didn’t sound convinced.

“I highly doubt my presence will do anything. And surely if it did, Mother would have told me to come immediately. She wouldn’t have wanted people to suffer.”

“We don’t know that they suffered. Just because they’re missing doesn’t mean they came to harm.”

“People don’t willingly or abruptly leave their families without word. What else does the journal say?”

Josslyn’s lips moved silently and her face turned even paler before she continued. “‘ Father gathered those that remained, so few and yet so many. Only we weren’t allowed to leave. As we began to march down the road, the mist came suddenly, and this time we saw it. Saw it rolling down the spire in a wave of gray-white. Everyone screamed and ran. Some into the nearest houses. Others right into that dense fog. It was terrifying because not only did they simply disappear, but Gertie, who bolted, hollering into it suddenly went silent. Father dragged me and Brother back to the house. He’s forbidden us to leave. I’ve never seen him so frightened.’ ” Josslyn glanced at Avera. “The writing for the next passage is shaky. ‘ The mist is back, and I hear the singing. I don’t know how I missed it before, it’s so loud. It has no words, and yet I can understand. The singer wants me to go outside. A good thing Father tethered Brother, because he tried to leave.’ ” Josslyn paused and cleared her throat before lowly saying, “The last entry is the one stating they would die that night. ” Josslyn shut the book. “Well, that was enlightening and not at the same time. At least we know to stay away from the fog.”

“What I don’t understand is, if they knew that, then why are all the homes empty? Why were some of the doors left open as if they walked willingly into it? It almost seems like the fog lured them and made them forget all else.”

“I don’t know if we’ll ever find out.” Josslyn placed the book on the bed. “I think perhaps we should holler for Gustav.”

Turned out they didn’t have to. When they went downstairs, he walked in, arms full of clothes plus an earthen jug. “Success!” he crowed.

“Shut the door,” Josslyn exclaimed.

“Why? It’s not like it’s cold outside.”

Josslyn pointed. “Because the mist is coming.”

Probably the most innocuous and ominous thing Avera had ever heard spoken.