A Plague of Shadows by Travis Simmons

like it was made of ice, or crystal than it was made of gold, but it shined with a light like that of the sun. Her hand itched to take the weapon, to feel its cool warmth on her flesh.
    “We make for those trees, which marks the beginning of the Fey Forest. I would warn that we stay on the trail at all times, darklings rule the forest, but Singer’s Trail has been warded, protected.”
    They all stepped closer to the window, Abagail giving one final look behind her to the door that led out into the house.
    “You need a glove,” Celeste said. “I’ve seen one around here.” She started riffling around in the room and then, near the fireplace, she came up with a weathered, hardened work glove. “It’s not that pliable, but it will work. Put it on your hand,” Celeste said, handing the rough garment to Abagail.
    Abagail slipped her fingers into the glove, which was too big for her, and the instant the shadow plague was out of eyesight, she felt better.
    “There, now you can’t infect us,” Rorick said with a smile.
    “I guess not,” Abagail agreed.
    “Now, we must leave,” Celeste said, stepping down out of the window and into the depths of the snow.
    Abagail turned back and cast a glance at the doorway as Leona jumped down into the knee-deep snow. Rorick stood behind her, no doubt positioning himself there so that Abagail couldn’t bolt and look through the door.
    “I just want to see,” she told him.
    “We’re strangers here,” he said. “We don’t know anything about this world. I think it’s best that we follow the advice of someone who does.” He nodded toward the retreating form of Celeste.
    Abagail sighed, and flexed her fingers inside the glove. There was dirt in the tips of the fingers. Not a lot, but it was enough to make her skin crawl wondering what kind of debris would be wedged under her nails when she took the gloves off. “You’re right,” she said, and then stepped down into the deep snow.
    Celeste no longer wore the scepter on her back. She held it clasped in her right hand, and with her left she was gesturing wildly. Leona was laughing at her, but it was muted to the point that Abagail could barely hear it over the wind.
    “If it’s so important that we sneak out of here, let’s hope that whoever’s inside the house doesn’t hear those two carrying on,” Abagail muttered. Rorick smirked at her and pulled the window shut behind them.
    “What I want to know is how in the world she’s walking through all of this snow with that dress and it’s not bothering her?” Rorick wondered as the two of them picked up a pace behind Leona and Celeste. They placed their feet in the holes already created by the two ahead of them so the going was a bit easier on them.
    “She doesn’t seem human,” Abagail told him. Though the going was easier using the holes already created, she was still winded easily, as if the air was lighter than what it had been on O.
    “I noticed that too,” Rorick said. “What do you think she is?”
    Abagail frowned. “I hate that everything I’ve considered myth for so long is suddenly much realer than I could ever have guessed. If I had to say she was something other than human, I would think she was an elf.”
    Rorick nodded as if that’s what he had been thinking as well. The wind whipped violently, blowing snow up into their eyes, and for a time they struggled through the squall not talking.
    By the time the squall’s howl whispered out and the snow was settling around them they were standing before the Fey Forest.
    “Now, remember what I said,” Celeste said. Luna fluttered down to land on the woman’s shoulder. “This is a place controlled by the darkling, but where we venture is on the other side of this forest. Stick to the path, no matter how many things try to lure you away.”
    “Will there be a lot that tries to lure us away?” Leona wondered.
    “A fair amount. The darkling can’t reach you while you’re on the path, only when you