Raven: Book Three Page 17

  The horse snorted once more. I watched it for a moment as I waited for the pain in my leg to subside. It was light gold with a blonde mane and tail. Its coat was glossy and clean, and it stood about sixteen hands tall, or what I guessed would be about that. One of the foster kids that had lived with us in Seattle had been adopted by a family that owned many horses. I was invited to visit once. When I went, of course, the horses had clamored to me as though I were a bale of fresh alfalfa. This horse, however, didn’t seem to care.

  I bit my lip and furrowed my brow. “What is wrong with me?” I said out loud, hoping someone would answer, but no one did. I felt the same twang in my chest and the acute burn. I thought of Edgar then, wondering how he was, and that’s when I felt it; I felt nothing.

  My heart stopped, the horse still chomping away beside me. What did this mean? Surely they hadn’t tricked me again. I knelt down and grabbed my bag with haste, no longer caring that the horse was there. I stuck my hand inside the bag and felt for the contract, pulling it out as I tried to unroll the metallic paper. I struggled with the page, finding it was difficult, like trying to bend heavy metal. Once open, I squinted at the words, seeing that they were now hard to read. Why couldn’t I see? I dropped the contract to the ground, hastily grabbing the Book of Us and flipping it open. I was also unable to read the words there, seeing nothing but blank pages. I discarded it next to the contract.

  “No,” I whispered. “No!”

  I looked back at my leg, feeling it pulse. I was human, I had to be. For the first time in my life I could feel everything. Breathing hard, I looked around. I felt alone. The equine did not count. There was nothing but my own pain, my own thoughts. I did not feel the darkness that I should and the same heavy heart I had when I was young. I did not feel the electricity of Edgar, or the light of my soul, either. I felt so apart from everything, the Earth no longer talking to me. Nothing was talking to me. Edgar’s heart was his own now, as was mine. Our soul had at last split.

  I looked to the sky as my mouth fell open and I let a scream escape my lips. The horse jolted as it stood in the bush, but did not run. When all the breath was exhausted from my lungs, I breathed deeply and collapsed to the ground, crying. The horse began to chew again, gnawing on a thick branch and rolling it in its mouth as the foam dripped onto a nearby fern. A whiff of wet wood and vegetation wafted toward me, and I felt myself gag. I brought my hand to my throat, feeling as it swelled with anger and fear.

  “How do I get back?” I looked at the ground and then at the horse, feeling the need to talk to something that was alive.

  The horse blinked and chewed. I let a sharp breath pass my trembling lips, almost like a laugh. I was at the end of my rope, bordering on crazy. After a few last quick breaths, I shut my eyes and calmed myself. Moments later, I was asleep once more.

  In my dreams I saw everything as it once was. I saw Edgar and Margriete, Sam and everyone I had known. I dreamt that I could still feel that connection but then slowly, it all faded away, and I was locked in darkness. The darkness felt comforting somehow, and warm. I fell into a trance as I stared into nothing, swirls of blacks and grays like water on a river. I felt myself smiling, wanting to dance with it but unable to move.

  There was a distant voice then, and I heard my own in reply. “Hello?” I said to the voice. The voice called back, louder this time, but still muffled. “Yes, I can hear you. What was that?”

  “Elle!” The voice was suddenly clear as day.

  I felt my heart stop, the call coming from right beside me now, in my dark room.

  “Sam?” I asked, looking through the swirls but seeing nothing. “I’m dreaming,” I told myself.

  “No, Elle. You’re not.” The reply was rather blunt, and certainly not something I would have thought to dream.

  I tried to look around again, hearing him as though he were right there, inches away.

  “Sam, I can’t see you.”

  I tried to reach out but I couldn’t make my arm move. It was then that a sharp pain pulsed from my injured leg to my head. I let out a cry.

  “Sam? What was that?” My voice was frantic now, as though I were stuck in a paper bag with no way out. I was being eaten by wild animals. That had to be it.

  “Elle,” his voice was calm.

  “How are you here? You can’t be here.” I felt delirious as the stinging sent chills all across my body. Sweat dripped across my face.

  I heard him laugh and it brought me a sense of comfort. This had to be real. I could not dream in such vivid detail.

  “Elle, I am trying to help you, so stop twitching. You are nearing death. This is why you can hear me.”

  I breathed in fast. “You’re an angel. Of course!” I thought about Edgar. “But where—”

  He sighed, cutting me off. “He’s not your angel. He cannot come.”

  I felt frustrated. “But I want him here. I want to see him, Sam.” I felt tears began to grow but I could not wipe my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Elle. I hoped it wouldn’t be this way, but—”

  “You hoped? You knew this could happen?”

  Sam sighed again. “It was a possibility, but there were many possibilities.”

  I was silent for a long while as the stinging began to fade and the darkness began to lighten ever so slightly. I was getting better.

  “Elle, you need to stay alive. The gods request that you live a full human life.”

  I whimpered, “A full human life? And then what?”

  Sam was quiet for a moment. “And then—I don’t know.”

  I was speechless, staring into the grey nothingness, hopelessly paralyzed. I thought about all the time I had in front of me, by myself. I did not want that.

  “You’ll have a lot to do, Elle.”

  His words were true. There would be a lot here to accomplish. I could lead them all. I could show them how to live a better life. I had taken a lot of my life for granted, but now I was given this gift, this chance to stand on equal ground with them. I loved Edgar more than anything else, but I owed it to all the others I loved as well. I was finally getting what I always wanted growing up: a real life.

  “Sam? Are you still there?” I felt my fingers begin to twitch as the feeling returned to them.

  “Bye, Elle.” His voice was already distant.

  The darkness was creeping toward light now, like watching the sun dawn over the horizon.

  “Sam?” I asked once more, but there was no reply this time. I was alone, again.

  I woke as sounds returned around me, blinking away the bright light that filtered through the canopy above. I heard a rustle at my side.

  “Sam?” I turned my head, seeing the horse still grazing nearby.

  I rolled my eyes and tried to sit up, my leg no longer pulsing with such pain. I looked down at it, wrinkling my nose as a sharp pungent smell wafted into them.

  “Garlic?” I asked myself, touching my finger to the wound where I saw something had been rubbed into it. The swelling was down, and the red veins of blood poisoning fading.

  I furrowed my brow, unsure why garlic had been rubbed on my leg, although it did seem to work. Infection had been what brought me to the brink of death, but I really didn’t believe that all it took was garlic to fix it. It had been Sam. Knowing him, he likely spiked it with something far more effective. I touched my brow, finding it coated in a dried film of sweat, but at least I was no longer burning up.

  I still felt the comforting warmth I had while I was sleeping, almost like a coming to terms with the fact of what had happened to me, and the fate I was now faced with. I was at ease. It was always better to know your fate than to have to wonder.

  I saw a stick jutting from the ground a few paces ahead, with a white piece of paper stabbed through it. I grunted as I tried to stand, the horse noticing me and letting out a low whinny. I put weight on my injured leg, taking one step forward and then another, until I reached the stick and pulled the paper from it. As I saw the writing, my heart leapt…


  Elle,

  Dearest, I am sorry I could not come and be there for you. I truly did not know. At the worst, I feared you would simply die, but not this. I already miss the way I could always feel you. Look what you have done, though. Be proud. You are magic. Never forget that. And though you may not see it around you, it will forever be in your heart and in your memories. Maybe one day, somewhere free, we can be together again.

  I love you,

  Edgar

  I pulled the letter to my chest and hugged it, knowing that now this was all I had of him. One tear fell but I was quick to wipe it away. I carefully rolled the page and hobbled back to my satchel where I carefully placed it inside and set it back down by the log. I ran my hand through my hair, feeling it tangle like it never had, frizzy and clumped into a matted mess. For the first time since Before, I was finally relieved that no one was here to see how awful I looked.

  There was a rubber band around my wrist and I pulled it off, trying my best to flatten the nest of hair into a pony tail. “It is what it is,” I whispered, meaning it in so many ways other than my hair. “What could I do?” I had agonized over losing Edgar so many times that it no longer felt like the thing to do. I had played this role time and time again. The best I could do was hope and try to heal.

  Exhaling away the worries that I could not control, I looked back at the horse. I focused on what I could do, and the things I could control right now. I hobbled to a nearby tree and braced myself against the trunk for a rest before stepping gingerly toward the horse once more.

  “Hey there, pony,” I sang. I slowly lifted my hand as I got closer, my feet shuffling through the lush green ferns. The horse’s chewing slowed, then stopped as I inched closer. It was blinking now, swishing its tail ever so slightly. Its eyes stared keenly into mine, watching me. I paused, staring at it as it stared at me. After a moment, it began to chew once more and I relaxed. I balanced myself on one foot, thinking about the horse as I bent down to determine its gender. I felt a bit invasive doing it, but I was tired of thinking of the horse as an It. I giggled and straightened—a gelding. I rolled that fact over in my head, deducing two things: he had once been domesticated because he was not a stallion, and he was also from Before. He had survived, and with any luck, he had some training as well.

  He must have made his way here when the storms began, searching for food where the lowlands provided none. I took one more step as he watched me, clucking my tongue. His ears perked at the sound, and his chewing stopped. I clucked again and again as I drew closer. He watched me but did not move, lowering his head slightly as though to show submission. I was right next to him now as I reached out to touch his mane. He murmured slightly, chewing his jaw as though he’d liked my touch.

  I ran my hand down his neck as he bobbed his head. I let go and dropped my hand to my side. He looked at me as though disappointed that I’d stopped. I stepped back and he stepped forward, following me, wanting more. A smile spread across my face. For the first time in my life, this animal liked me not for my scent or my power, but for me.

  “Hey there, boy. Do you like me?” I stepped back again, and he stepped forward twice, his nose resting against my arm.

  I ran my hand down the length of his forehead, straightening his forelock into a little twist. I turned and walked toward the log where my satchel sat and the horse followed. I stopped, turning as I ran my hand down the length of his back from his withers to his rump. He swished his tail.

  “What should we name you?” My stomach growled as though to answer, and the horse blinked a few times. I hadn’t eaten in a long while and I was not used to the hunger I felt now, making my limbs shake and my head feel loopy.

  “Should we name you, Jack?” The horse bobbed its head and I laughed, finding it too perfect. “Alright, Jack. It seems you found some food, but how about me? Do you know where some human food is?”

  This time Jack did not reply. I tilted my head, patting him again as I gained his trust. He was just as alone as I was, but together, we could be great friends. I turned back to the log to grab the bag from the ground and threw it on my back. I then hoisted myself up as my feet struggled to find traction on the moss, placing one hand on Jack’s withers for support. He sidestepped closer to the log as though he had done this before. I, on the other hand, had little experience as an equestrian and feared how I would handle this. My friend from the foster home had made it look easy, but then they’d also had a saddle and reins for help. I brushed the dust from his back and tried lifting my leg as Jack shuffled his feet.

  “Stand still, Jack.” I had my injured leg in the air, ready to throw it over his back.

  I finally managed to get my heel high enough to slide it over, but Jack refused to make things easier on me as he stepped forward. “Whoa!” I screeched, throwing my weight onto him and wrapping my arms around his neck. My head was resting on his mane, my hands locked at the knuckles. Jack walked forward, his head bobbing, dodging around trees as leaves brushed along my body. I continued to hug his neck, afraid that if I let go, I’d simply slide off.

  Jack headed downhill as the warmth of his large body began to make me sweat. I breathed in rhythm with his heavy steps, slow and soft. When I could not bear it any longer, I relaxed my grip and adjusted myself until I was balanced on his back. My seat was learning his motions, the rhythm repetitive and predictable. We followed the same path I had taken on my way up which had left a sort of opening for us to walk through. As the trees thinned and the sparkling lake began to shine through the trees, I gathered enough strength to sit up taller, my fingers lacing into Jack’s mane, my knuckles turning white from my strong grip.

  I felt the cool air blow off the lake and toward us, Jack’s feet crunching across what used to be the gravel path at the college. I tried to loosen my body in the hopes that I could relax into the same rhythm as Jack, the whole world being jostled about as I rocked back and forth. Jack’s feet left the path now, sinking into the sand of the beach as he walked toward the water. I felt myself slipping forward as he walked downhill and I tried my best to push off his neck and back. At the water’s edge he stopped, lowering his head as I yelped and slid forward. Though I tried to prevent it from happening, I toppled down and off his neck, landing on my butt in the shallow water.

  Water splashed into my face, and I drew in a sharp breath of shock, the glacial chill of it leaving me breathless. Jack’s eyes watched me before focusing back on the water, his lips touching the surface as it guzzled down his throat. He made small sucking noises as he drank. I tried to stand, feeling instantly warmer as the humid air of late summer began to work to dry me.

  It hadn’t been this warm in months, and for what the weather had been, it was as though I was in a different place entirely. That other place I had been was just a nightmare. I looked to where the dam used to be, seeing that what had been left was now covered in vines as though nature wanted to hide it, as though it was ashamed of that era. I felt like I had been launched into the future, like a time traveler, seeing the world after humanity had long left it.

  Jack finished drinking as he shuffled his feet backward, turning on his rear hooves as they twisted into the sand. He took a few steps up the hill and stopped, looking back at me. I had no way to keep him, no restraints or ropes. He continued to stand, as though waiting for me. I stepped toward him, reaching his side as he took a few more steps forward and up the bank to what used to be the shore.

  What to do now? That was the question that was haunting the back of my mind. How long would I have to wait? Jack let out a whinny as his whole stomach tightened. I walked up to his side once more, tracing my hand down his neck, the soft fur like silk under the pads of my fingers.

  “Jack, do you know the way back?” I asked, looking into his large eyes. He blinked. “Do you think you can take me?”

  I looked down the hill between the two mountains where the river ran. I pointed west. Jack rolled his tongue around in his mouth.

  “I’ll take t
hat as a yes?”

  I grabbed his mane, and gently tugged him toward the log where my small shelter had been. The satchel on my back was still dripping with water and I feared checking the contents, afraid all the papers were ruined. I once again performed the same awkward dance as I had before, wrestling my way onto Jack’s back.

  Once up, I let out a loud whoop of accomplishment, figuring there was no one around to hear me. The trip down the mountain was going to take much longer than the few minutes it took to fly, or the hour it took to drive. I settled on a few days, maybe a week, depending on how the horseback riding panned out. I looked up at the sun in the sky, seeing it was already low, just inches from the top of the nearby mountain. I wanted to make progress by nightfall so I urged Jack forward, swinging my legs like a buffoon.

  My grip on Jack’s mane tightened as his body lurched and he made his way across the tall grasses of the bank and to the edge where the dam once was. He gingerly made his way down the steep cliff side, the water pouring over what was left of the dam below.

  I held tight, looking down and praying I would survive this, though dying was not necessarily a bad thing, either. We inched down, weaving back and forth until we at last met the river. The bank of this side was tight, and as I looked across to the other side where the road used to be, I saw the land there was far more desirable.

  I pulled on Jack’s mane and he stopped. For a moment I was amazed it had worked at all, laughing to myself. “Okay, Jack. Let’s cross.”

  Jack seemed to know exactly what I wanted him to do as he stamped his feet.

  “Come on, boy. This is easy.” I scanned the river, seeing a shallow portion up ahead. “See, up there.” I gave him a gentle nudge with my heels and he stepped forward with a hesitant shoulder.