Raven: Book Three Page 6

  I shot to my feet, knocking my desk chair backwards and onto a stack of books. A vial of ink spilled across my desk, spreading like blood across the papers I had just been studying. I was angrier now than before. Those papers were hundreds of years old.

  A growl grew in my chest like thunder. “You will do no such thing!” My voice was low. I had held my anger at bay for long enough, and my body could no longer handle it. I was a bomb, waiting to explode.

  I shook my head. Sam had zero tact. The more he nagged, the less I wanted to divulge the truth to Estella. Besides, she was figuring it out on her own. So, why even bother?

  Sam walked up to me, sticking his nose in my face. “Then you should have thought about that when you appointed me to watch her in your absence.” If it could have, his face would have turned red with anger. “And you should bother. You’re wasting her time!”

  “You don’t know where the prophecy is,” I spat, grabbing his neck and threatening to snap it in half.

  He laughed. “Really? Well, I can see that you don’t, either.”

  I picked Sam up off the floor. “Stay out of my head, Sam.”

  Sam continued to laugh. “What are you going to do? Are you going to choke me? Before you try, ask yourself this, Edgar. Do we even breathe?”

  I dropped him, finding my threat was indeed useless. “Sam, as the one that appointed you to watch Elle, I forbid you to tell her about the existence of the prophecy. No one even knows those really exist, and what does it tell you anyway? That some day you may find something? No matter what you do to follow it, it changes nothing!”

  Sam sat on a stack of books, refusing to take my threats seriously. “I’m afraid you no longer have the power to forbid me from anything. It’s Fate that binds me to Elle, not you. You may have been responsible for it in the first place, but not anymore. That loan has been sold to a higher power. I will do as I wish.” His eyes were tiny slits. “And if she could read the prophecy, then it would help. It would explain to her what is happening better than we could. It can show her. Besides, the prophecy does not speak of the end, just the beginning—we have hope!” Sam finally sealed his lips as he stood and walked toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” I bellowed. His exit seemed abrupt, and I wasn’t yet able to get myself abreast of the situation.

  Sam looked back at me, saying nothing as his hand grabbed the handle of the door, reading my jealousy.

  “Don’t you dare tell her, Sam.” I tried to threaten him once more but he didn’t even flinch. He opened the door then, and stepped out, leaving me distraught and alone.

  I listened in anger as he descended the stairs, my body shaking. I felt as though my palms should be sweating but they weren’t—they couldn’t. I turned back to my desk and righted my chair. I sat, leaning my elbows on the wood with my head in my hands. I needed to tell her. I had to. The last thing I wanted was for her to find another reason to distrust me, and another reason to trust him instead.

  Why had I made him her guardian, anyway? Why not someone else? Why not someone that couldn’t read minds?

  I dropped my hands from my face as the fallen ink bottle rolled, releasing more black ink across the pages. I tried to wipe it up but the more I tried the more it spread, just like the situation now. Why was it so hard to tell her? Was it the fact that I did not want to admit she was stronger than me? Was I that insecure, that selfish?

  I visualized the prophecy in my head, glowing in the darkness of wherever it lay. I wanted to know where it was so that I could see it once more, but it had run from me long ago. I knew it was nearby because I could often hear its gentle hum, but for now, it was concealed.

  Even if Sam did tell her about it, and she managed to find it, would she know what it was? How to use it? We had been born with it years and years ago, but when we were cast from Heaven, it had stayed with me, not her. I kept it safe, guarded it thinking that if she saw it, it would ruin our time together, as it still did.

  I would tell her, I would, but not yet. I felt too far from the truth now, too far from myself. I was a mess, and it felt horrible.

  LIES

  Estella

  “Sam, what was that?” Sam entered the library.

  “Nothing. I just slammed the door by mistake. Sometimes I guess I don’t know my own strength.” He had a mocking look on his face.

  “Right.” Margriete nodded, giving him a blank stare that suggested she didn’t believe him but wasn’t in the mood to know the facts, either.

  “So, what are you guys up to?” Sam crossed his arms against his chest, looking up at us through the bars of the railing.

  I pushed a few loose strands of hair from my face with a tired exhale. “We’re looking for anything that can tell us why things out there—” I pointed out the large windows that looked out onto the meadow, “—are changing for the worse. I mean, it’s summer and look at it. It’s a mess out there.” I grimaced as I saw the rain pool in the yard, the temperature never more than fifty.

  Sam glanced out the window with little interest, pressing his lips together. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

  Margriete perked up. “So, it’s not just us. You’ve noticed as well.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Sam’s mouth curled and he let out one breathy laugh. “Why do I care what’s happening out there? It’s not my world.”

  I stood, gripping the railing in annoyance. “Yeah, but it is underneath all this. What happens here will affect that, too. It has to.”

  Sam tilted his head. “True.”

  “Tell us what’s happening.” I demanded, sensing he was hiding something. “You know. I can tell that you know.”

  Sam drew in a deep breath, clenching his jaw and letting the air escape from his cheeks as he thought.

  “Why won’t you just say it?” Margriete barked, growing annoyed. I had sensed a rift with them lately, and I didn’t know exactly why.

  Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s not my place to say.” He paused as his eyes grew wide with sarcasm.

  Margriete tilted her head, giving him a warning glare that even scared me.

  Sam’s demeanor changed, as though Margriete had put him in some sort of trance. “But since he won’t say it, I guess I will.”

  “Who won’t say it?” I demanded. “Edgar? He knows about this?” I felt my heart sink—he was lying to me. My blood began to boil and the feeling of betrayal from my one true love grew stronger than the feeling of affection I’d previously had.

  Sam shrugged as though shrugging off the blame, but I knew my accusations were right. Who else would it be?

  I spoke through clenched teeth. “So what is it? What does it all mean? Tell me.”

  Sam swallowed as though afraid of me and I found myself shocked, wondering how that could be. “Listen, Elly. This isn’t my beef, so don’t blame the messenger, okay?”

  “I won’t.” I seethed. I felt my body grow hot with anger and deception.

  The smile returned to his face. “The Earth is dying. I give it a few months.” He said it as though it were nothing, and at first I expected him to say he was kidding.

  “No. Seriously, Sam. I don’t need your excessive exaggerations.” I put one hand on my hip in exasperation.

  His smile faded, and he looked at me steadily, unflinching. “Elly, I’m not joking.” His arms uncrossed as he threw them in the air, defending his comment.

  Margriete gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth to silence it.

  “What?” I sputtered in disbelief.

  “The Earth is dying, Elle. Everything. The humans have finally done it. They’ve messed with the balance enough to send it spiraling into destruction.” He was quick to lay blame.

  “The humans have done nothing!” I was tired of his discrimination towards my kind. It was no one’s fault but the gods. It was not I that wished to be created, to then spawn this entire race. The humans were an innocent breed, so self involved that they hardly knew what they had
done. When I spoke again, I used his creation against him. “Besides, Sam. You always seem to forget that you were human once,” I retorted.

  He gave me a half smile. “Why does everyone keep reminding me of this? Whatever.”

  I rolled my eyes at him.

  “Well, is there anything we can do to stop it?” Margriete finally spoke.

  Sam raised one eyebrow, looking up at us.

  “There is, isn’t there?” I put both hands on the rail, leaning toward him with hope. “Why else would you know unless there is? Why else would you act so relaxed about the whole thing?”

  “Touché.” Sam pointed directly at me, winking one eye.

  “What?” I demanded. “There is?” I hadn’t really expected him to give it up so freely.

  It was then that I heard heavy footsteps descending the stairs in the hall and we all froze. Sam turned and watched Edgar step with elegance and power, then turned back to me where he brought his finger to his lips, telling me to keep quiet on the subject—but why? What was Edgar hiding? Why was he doing this to me? Edgar placed one foot on the black granite of the entry, noticing us as we all stared at him with blank eyes.

  He glared at Sam, and Sam shrugged. Edgar then looked at me. “What?” he asked, feeling the blame we all had put on him.

  I steeled my spine, swallowing my hatred for him and hoping he couldn’t read my mind as Sam could. I quickly tried to stash away every thought, just in case. “Nothing.” I forced a smile, not knowing whether he was the enemy in this situation or an ally.

  Edger looked us all in the eye, one by one, before slowly nodding and pointing toward the kitchen. “Just going to get Henry a snack.” Henry popped his head around the corner where he stood on the floor, letting out a loud shriek, causing us all to cringe and cover our ears. Edgar looked at Henry. “What he said.” He then turned on his heel, and marched into the kitchen.

  We all exhaled simultaneously.

  Do I need to fear him? I thought, hoping Sam was listening.

  Sam shook his head.

  Can he hear my thoughts like you can? He was looking back and forth at both Margriete and I.

  “No—to both of you,” he spoke. “You two are a lot alike, you know that?”

  Margriete and I looked at each other and giggled, but it quickly faded as the mood fell somber.

  So the world really is dying? I looked back at Sam.

  He nodded. “But don’t worry. In due time, you will get your answers. There are things we can do to stop it.”

  I pouted. “Like what?” My voice was loud, and both Sam and Margriete hushed me, both looking toward the kitchen through the small window in the wall of the library that looked into the sitting room adjacent.

  “Right now isn’t the time, okay?” Sam put one hand up to silence me, pressing the point.

  I gave up, settling for the vague answers and looking out the window toward the field and trees, now seeing their sadness and their death. Margriete grabbed my arm and pulled my attention away from them, smiling.

  “It doesn’t seem there is anything we can do right now, Elly. Sam made it seem like the answers will come soon enough. There’s no point in worrying about the things we can’t control.”

  I exhaled. “I know, Margriete. But aren’t you scared? We’re dying—all of us.”

  Margriete gave me a sarcastic face. “Elle, really. You’re overreacting.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? We should all be overreacting!” I hissed.

  Margriete nodded slowly. “I’ll try to ask Sam more later on. Perhaps he’ll tell me.” She seemed doubtful of her statement.

  “Are you and Sam alright?” I had to ask.

  Margriete looked shocked by my question. “Yeah! Why?” Now she was the one overreacting.

  I looked in the direction of the kitchen, dropping it. “Do you think I should ask Edgar?”

  Margriete shrugged. “It’s worth a try, but be careful. You know their temper.” She seemed bitter when she said it, leaving me with bits and pieces about their relationship that I could put together on my own. “And besides, Sam didn’t say anything in front of Edgar for a reason, so… I don’t figure it’s something to talk to him about. He might snap.”

  I laughed. “I can handle it, trust me.”

  “Shall we clean up all this?” She looked down at the piles of books.

  “Yeah.” I knelt down and began to gather them, placing them back onto the shelves. I blew off each cover, moving pile to pile. It was then that I picked up a red book and dusted it off, suddenly intrigued by the title: Armageddon.

  “Did you pull this one?” I showed it to Margriete and she narrowed her eyes, putting a book on the shelf before giving me her full attention.

  “Oh, I guess I did.” She let out an uneasy laugh. “Sort of fitting, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what I thought.” I pulled it to my chest, feeling the tonnage of the subject in my hands. “I think I’ll keep this one.”

  Margriete shook her head in disbelief as her hair fluttered around her. “Not a bad idea.”

  I stacked it with the iridescent book about our kind, and set it aside. After placing all the books back on the shelves, Margriete and I both looked at each other as our stomachs growled in unison. We laughed for a moment and then slowly headed down the ladder to the kitchen to rummage for some food, the supplies getting lower every day.

  We found the room empty, leaving me secretly disappointed. What had happened to Edgar and I? What had happened to the fairy tale love that seemed to bloom before? It was as though he no longer missed me as he had, the intoxicating touch we once shared, the electricity of our existence. I used to hover in that dream world forever, and a part of me still wished I was without our soul. I wished I could depend on him again, like before.

  Margriete dropped a copper pan onto the granite floor, the sound reverberating in my ears, bringing me back to the present. I shook away my sadness, feeling more independent with every day I spent in this separation with Edgar.

  I sighed, opening a cabinet. I began to push around empty boxes, hearing only bits of grain or crackers rattling inside. Today was eventful, despite the tension that had grown even thicker. Later I would confront Edgar—I had to. His ignorance and distance had infuriated me for the last time and I would not allow it to continue. What Matthew had done to Margriete was never far from my thoughts, leaving me hoping that Edgar was not headed for the same jealous doom.

  I finally found a can toward the back of the cabinet, heavy with it’s contents. “Here.” I tossed it to Margriete. She caught it behind her back with one hand, as though she’d expected me to throw it. I laughed.

  She poured the contents into the copper pan and placed it by the fire. When it began to bubble around the edges she poured the soup into two bowls, too anxious to wait for a rolling boil. Besides, it was always too hot that way.

  As Margriete and I chatted over the meal, I saw in her the best friend I had always wanted, and the family to love. Though Edgar was stuck somewhere I could not see, I knew I would have her at my side, like a sister. The coming task sat in the pit of my stomach like a ball of dough I could not yet digest. I was not ready to lose this again, and I sensed that what was coming was bound to be my fight—yet again. I had faced one challenge after the other in this world, and though I had never asked for it, it was my burden to bear.

  VISITOR

  Edgar

  “What are you reading?” I walked through the door of Elle’s room where she lay on her bed. Her feet where crossed at her ankles and a she had a book in hand, resting on her stomach. Seeing her like that made a small flicker in my heart ignite, my mind flashing back to when she used to gaze upon me with such adoration. She glanced away from the page and at me, her eyes full of disdain. I felt an invisible knife stab my heart.

  I was acutely tuned into her movements as her lips parted and she spoke. “A book.” She looked away from me and back to the page. I was no more than a fly on the wall to her—an annoyance. I b
egan to wonder what Sam had told her, wondered if she knew just how much of a scum bag I really was.

  “Well, I can see that,” I replied, trying to laugh to lighten the mood, but I got no reaction. I locked my hands behind my back and sauntered across the room, feeling awkward and unwelcome. Reaching her bed, I bent down and tried to kiss her on her forehead, hoping that at least that would work. She shied away from me, not even bothering to give me as much as a polite decline.

  I felt my bones fill with fury as I exhaled and stepped back. “Okay. What did I do?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice was sharp.

  I tried to decipher her reply, cursing the female mind for being so full of loaded remarks. “Okay. So if I did nothing, why are you mad?”

  She slammed the book shut and rolled her eyes, her body now rigid with anger. “Exactly, Edgar. You did nothing,” she snapped. Her voice was low and contained.

  I nodded, remembering that remark and noting that it literally meant, ‘nothing.’

  Elle sat up, placing her bare feet on the floor. She stood on her toes, her nose just inches from mine. My lips quivered, longing to grab her and kiss away our aggressions, but I knew that now was not that sort of time. She pointed her finger between us, treating it like a fence. I looked down at the book in her other hand, recognizing the fiery red of the cover as my stomach sank. Sam had told her.

  “You know about all this, don’t you?” Her arm flailed as she slammed the book against my chest. Air heaved from my lungs. I took it in my hands, looking at the cover though there was no need. I already knew what it was.

  “Elle, I—” I didn’t know exactly what Sam had told her, so I tried to remain vague. “What did Sam say?”

  She blew up then, shaking with anger and grumbling like a mad woman. “It doesn’t matter what Sam said, Edgar. You lied to me. Why didn’t you want to tell me the world is dying?”

  I took a deep breath, rolling the thoughts over in my mind as I looked up and out her dark windows. The rain streaked down the glass at a slant, the wind howling around the invisible peaks of the house. I struggled to find something to say as anxiety rippled through my bones. What was the right thing?