Raven: Book Three Page 5

  Edgar looked from my face to Sam’s, and then back to me, shrugging. “No, I think you’re safe.”

  Sam stared at him, but I couldn’t quite understand the expression. What was he referencing? Was there something he knew? My heart leapt in my chest.

  Edgar walked toward the kitchen then, Sam following.

  “Do you think he’s lying to me?” I whispered. I sat up, looking at Margriete with a steady stare.

  She looked even more lost than me. “No.” Her face twisted. “At least there better not be. Sam and I don’t keep secrets.” Her expression was one of displeasure.

  I ignored her. “I mean, we just talked about how we wouldn’t lie anymore.”

  Margriete lifted her brows. “Of all the people in the world I could never understand, Edgar was always on the top of the list, so don’t ask me. I’m likely the last to know what he’s thinking. When I think he’s mad, it always turns out that he was really happy.”

  I sank back into the couch cushion, looking outside and wondering if I should trust him or not, wondering if his promises were fake. After all, he certainly didn’t have a sterling record, so to what degree should I be so quick to trust him? Love was not the best reason. Loyalty had to be proven.

  “He’s your husband, you should trust him,” Margriete finally concluded.

  I looked back toward her. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

  REPRIMAND

  Edgar

  “What are you doing? Why didn’t you tell her?” Sam whispered behind me, following me into the kitchen.

  “What? She caught me off guard. What was I supposed to do? Announce it to the entire group? Oh, hey Elle, the world is dying and only you can save it. Yeah, Sam. That would have gone over real well.” I refused to turn around and look at Sam, instead grabbing a book and sitting on the lounger in the sitting room across from the kitchen. I was avoiding the subject at all costs.

  Sam pounded his fist on the copper counter. “Damn it, Edgar! She needs to know. This isn’t one of those things you just stumble upon and suddenly find the strength to handle. This is something she needs to prepare for.”

  I dropped the book into my lap, angry as I glared into his golden eyes, his hair a brighter red than usual. “I’ll get to it. Just give me some time to think.”

  Sam whirled around on one foot and stormed toward the fire. “She doesn’t have that time, Edgar,” he snapped.

  “Just do me a favor and stay out of this, Sam.” My teeth were clenched, and I could feel the blood rushing to my face, my eyes turning a deep black.

  Sam opened his mouth but quickly shut it, knowing full well what I could do to him. The ego grew inside me and my wings stretched out to my sides, flaunting the fact that I was stronger than he ever would be.

  “Fluff your feathers all you want, old friend, but you know as well as I that this is not up to you, so stop pretending it is.” Sam gave me one last long glare, and left the room, his footsteps fading into the hall. I heard the front door slam.

  I winced, then pulled the book up to my face and continued to read. Though the book was anything but interesting, I didn’t care. The last thing I needed was to think about what I knew, and what Elle still didn’t. Avoidance would make it all go away, or so I hoped.

  COMING TO AN

  UNDERSTANDING

  Estella

  My feet sank into the deep mud of the trail toward the college, the smell of damp sage filling the air. “Do you think this rain will ever stop?”

  I looked back at Margriete as she trudged behind me. “I don’t know.”

  This was meant to be a hike for exercise, but it had turned into much more than that. By now we were knee deep in mud, and it was more about survival at this point. Walking was an understatement as sweat beaded across our skin, my muscles weak and tired.

  “What do you think Edgar is hiding?” I looked down at my feet, one boot suctioned to the forest floor.

  “So you do think he’s lying?” Margriete challenged.

  I yanked on my ankle with one hand, managing to pull free and place my foot on more solid ground. “Well, I mean, I think he was acting weirder than usual. What else would it be but the fact that he is hiding something? You know what he’s like.”

  Margriete laughed. “Weirder than usual? He’s only been back for one week.” She almost fell as her foot also released from the mud. “But I do know what you mean. He does have that mysterious side we all have to wonder about.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, then. He’s acting weird for anyone, regardless. I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “Like what? Withdrawn and alone? Of course not. Never.” Sarcasm laced her voice.

  I snorted, admitting it was funny. Still though, he was different. Maybe only I could see it, but that was enough to convince me. Margriete let out a squeal, and I looked back just in time to see her land in the mud, her hands and arms covered in a thick layer all the way to her elbows.

  “Seriously,” she whined.

  I laughed. “Here, let me help.” I made my way back toward her.

  “I think I’m done.” She was exhausted.

  I laughed again. “Yeah, me too. Let’s just get you up out of this mess, and then I’ll fly us home.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, at this point, I think I’d be happier dangling by my tail in the air than sweating my way through this stuff. Why do we need exercise, anyway? We’re plenty strong, and it’s not like it matters if we’re healthy. We’re immortal, remember?”

  I felt like a failure for thinking this little outing was a good idea. “It was meant to be more of a mental exercise. I need to get out of that house.”

  She nodded, lifting her brows. “Yeah, I can certainly relate to that.”

  I leaned down to grab her arm as a fern stretched toward me. I watched it as it tickled at my arm, sad and desperate.

  “Margriete—look.” I pointed.

  She looked where I had. “What is it doing?”

  I knelt down, touching it as it seemed to turn up toward me, though continued to sag. “I’m not sure. It’s as though it’s asking me for help.”

  Margriete narrowed her eyes. “Yes. Look.”

  She pointed to the rest of the ferns around us. I gasped.

  “See? They’re all leaning toward us, and they’re pointing right at us,” Margriete added.

  “You’re right. How long do you think it’s been like that? I hadn’t even noticed with all the mud.” I looked up toward the trees, still noticing the way they seemed yellowed. “Look at that. Do you think it’s because there hasn’t been any sun? But I wouldn’t think that would matter.”

  Margriete looked up. “Yeah, the bows are even leaning toward us. I don’t think that’s normal.”

  I looked back at Margriete. “Should I ask Edgar?”

  She snorted. “What will he tell you? He’s only going to say that you’re crazy. Just like he did when you saw me, and look what that did.”

  I remembered the way I felt when he didn’t believe me. “Yes, you’re right. I’m not really in the mood to deal with that, either. Well, then who can we ask?”

  “You could ask Sam.” Her face went sour as soon as she said it. “Or maybe we’ll just try the library, see if we can’t find something in one of those books?”

  I nodded, pulling her up off the ground with one hefty tug. “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I agreed in a labored voice.

  Margriete reached down and untied her boots, geared up to leave them behind. “Come on then. Let’s go. I can’t bear to watch them. It’s breaking my heart.” She prepared herself to transform into her changeling, shaking the energy from her hands.

  “Yeah, me neither.” I peered around at them one last time, almost frightened by their appearance. Looking away, I pulled my boots off as well, leaving them in six inches of mud. “Are you ready?” I stood on top of them, my socks soaking wet.

  Margriete nodded as she changed, now balancing two paws on one boot and two on the other, afraid to g
et her pristine white fur dirty.

  I laughed. “Alright.” I jumped up in the air, taking flight as I circled once, swooping back down and snatching Margriete by the tail as she let out one discontented howl. Her squeals echoed off the trees, making the scene worse, as though it were the trees that were crying.

  I tilted up and through the canopy of the forest, spreading my wings as rain trickled down every feather, adding to our weight. Margriete spun below me, helplessly along for the ride, but growing accustomed to the abuse. Up ahead, the meadow came into view, and I saw Sam and Edgar outside, playing with a football in the yard. Both their wings were spread out as they threw the ball back and forth, up in the air and as far as they could. With their strength, the ball nearly flew from one end of the field to the other, an expanse of about two football fields. A throw like that would make any quarterback jealous, and even me.

  I fanned air forward as I hovered down to the ground, placing Margriete on the grass before landing next to her. We quickly changed out of our changelings and made our way toward the house, walking between Edgar and Sam as the ball whizzed overhead.

  “Hey, girls!” Sam yelled from the left and we both looked.

  Margriete smiled and ran toward him, her stride growing more and more like a cat everyday. I looked to my right at Edgar, seeing he was smiling at me as well. He made his way toward me in silence, his black t-shirt soaked and his giant wings dripping.

  I still was not used to the fact that he was an angel, and the wings seemed out of place. It felt weird to be with him, as though I was betraying my own kind, but despite all that, they were beautiful—a full-size rendition of his previous raven wings. Because these new wings were so grand, I rarely saw him use his changeling. Why would he? If I had that sort of thing, I would too. Much easier, though it had really ruined a lot of his clothes.

  “Hey, there.” Edgar reached me, putting one hand around my waist. He leaned in and kissed me on the forehead, sweeping my wet hair from my face with his other hand.

  I leaned against his cool, wet body, hugging him, though I didn’t want to. I was still angry that he seemed to be hiding something, and I didn’t want him to catch on to the fact that I’d noticed, especially if there was no real reason behind his actions. I needed more time too feel him out, to see if his moods were simply a result of what had happened, and not because of something else.

  “So how was the hike?” He looked at me with a sarcastic smile.

  “It wasn’t much of a hike.” My thoughts were tied up by the way the ferns and trees were reacting. For a moment I thought to ask him, even though I had declined to earlier. I looked down at my feet, thinking that maybe I’d just mention it, and see what he does. “Saw something strange out there.” I narrowed my eyes, noticing the grass in the field was also reaching for me, crawling along the ground as though tired.

  “Strange? Like what. Was it a creature?” He put one hand on each shoulder and pulled me away from him, trying to look into my eyes, but I wouldn’t allow him.

  I was afraid that if he saw into my heart, he would know what I was trying to do, what I was trying to get out of him. What if he was changed by the gods? What if they had bugged him with magic, somehow? “No, just—” I tried to think of a good excuse. “There was so much mud out there. I think the rain is taking a toll on the forest.”

  He nodded. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

  I shut my eyes, relieved that he didn’t seem to know, relieved that he wasn’t hiding anything from me. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m just a worrier, that’s all.”

  He pulled me back against his chest, rocking us back and forth.

  “Hey, Elle!” Margriete yelled from across the field.

  I pushed away from Edgar, and looked at her over my shoulder.

  “Come on!” She waved me toward her with wide eyes, nodding as though holding back the real reason as to what we were doing.

  I looked toward Sam, seeing him smile. He knew exactly what we were doing, but he was reacting in a way that suggested he wasn’t going to stop us, either. He knew something. I felt betrayed, then, knowing that if he knew something, then Edgar probably did too. I saw Sam’s eyes dart up over my head and then back at me, his smile fading.

  I looked up at Edgar with sharp eyes. “What was that about?”

  Edgar’s face seemed solid, but it quickly faded as he answered me. “What was what?”

  I shook my head, letting go of him in a way that was meant to be cold, but he only laughed.

  “Whatever,” I said under my breath.

  Sam threw the ball and Edgar caught it, releasing a sharp breath as it hit his chest with a force I was certain hurt, at least a little.

  “See you at dinner!” I waved over my shoulder but didn’t look back, too frustrated to be nice.

  “Bye.” He said it while releasing the ball, grunting.

  I didn’t bother to give another wave, and seem repetitive. I met up with Margriete, just as we reached the invisible porch. She stared at me, sensing my anger, but I didn’t look at her, either. “Pompous show-off,” I said. Margriete giggled, and together we walked inside.

  BOOKWORK

  Estella

  “Hey, Elle, look at this one!”

  Margriete pulled a book from the shelf on the second level. I was searching through a few plant books on the lower floor that were located next to the books about glaciers.

  I looked up at her, seeing she was waving a book over her head. “What is it?”

  “Come up here! I think it’s likely we’ll find the answers in these books. These are all the magic books!” The look on her face was priceless, as though she had found something that was forbidden, her face like that of an excited child.

  I dropped a book about botany and it hit the floor like dead weight. I leaned forward and stood with a grunt, making my way to the ladder. Once up, Margriete shoved the book toward me and I looked at it. I pressed my brows together, deep wrinkles forming on my forehead.

  “What is it?” The book was all white, including the pages, and to the naked eye, you’d think it was nothing more than an unused journal, until I tilted it. “Oh, wow. Look at that. Did you see that?”

  Margriete’s mouth was gaping in an exaggerated smile, nodding her head with enthusiasm.

  “Well, it’s certainly a chore to read.” The letters glimmered as it caught the light of the room.

  She touched her finger to the page. “I think it’s made for beings like us. Because we have reflective eyes, so we can read it.” Her voice was laced with deep, dramatic undertones.

  “You’re right, Margriete. Look here.” I had closed the book and was now reading the cover. “A Book of Us,” I read out loud, running my hand across a drawing of a raven.

  “Yeah, that’s what I was saying! I think it’s about us, too!” She was shaking with excitement.

  I laughed. “Wow, this could have come in handy last year, that’s for sure.”

  “No kidding! So do you think it will have our answers?” She snatched it from my grasp, opening to one of the first pages and scanning what was there. She was whispering under her breath, listing things: “Making of, first days, the cast away, survival, special powers, enchantments, wing maintenance, magic…”

  “Well?” I was growing impatient.

  “Well—” She looked up, shutting the book. “Seems like there are a lot of interesting things here, but nothing that could tell us what is happening. It seems it’s mostly about us, as the title suggests.” She shoved it toward me as though it were now no more than a stack of useless paper, the excitement now gone from her face as she dove back into the stack, looking for more.

  My smile faded as well, but I kept the book anyway, figuring it had some use—particularly in the wing maintenance section. I sat back against the rail, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling. “This is useless. I don’t think we will find our answers here. Most of these books are centuries old! Surely they cannot foresee the future.”


  Margriete’s face was just inches from the books, scanning every spine but finding nothing. “Gosh, where did you guy’s find all these books! I mean everything is here, Griffins, Unicorns, Guardian Angels… Oh! Guardian Angels! This is handy.” She ripped it from the stack and placed it in front of her.

  I repeated myself, this time louder. “We won’t find anything here, Grietly. We need something like your journal, something that, at the very least, can tell us the present, something that says why the plants are doing that.”

  Margriete sat back, finally listening, her head resting on the bar of the railing. “Yeah, we need someone that can see into the future. Like a fortune teller.”

  I perked up. “Do you know anyone?”

  She laughed. “Ha! No. No one can do that, well, unless you believe in myths.”

  “Believe in myths? Like what?” I touched her arm, intrigued by her comment.

  She rolled her head to face me. “You know. Prophecies, Fate, and all that crazy stuff.”

  “Prophecies?” I began.

  A door slammed upstairs and Margriete and I both jumped, looking toward the door of the library and dropping the conversation.

  “What was that?” Margriete looked at me questioningly.

  REPRIMAND

  Edgar

  Sam slammed the door to my room, closing us in darkness. “This is the last time I’m going to say it, Edgar. Tell her!”

  I clenched my jaw, growing tired of his nagging. “In due time, Sam. So, calm down.”

  He lunged across the room, pointing his finger at me as his hair fluttered in some imaginary wind. “I will not calm down. I am sworn to protect her, and by you, of all people. And right now, your actions are getting in the way of that, so, I’m conflicted. I don’t know how much longer I can stay silent before I will be forced to help her. I do not like lying to Margriete, but because of you, I have. For once, I’m getting a taste of how it must feel to be you and I don’t know how you can stand it. It’s sick!”