Page 75 of Woods of the Raven

Coming up for air, flailing, my hand was grabbed, and it was Lorne. He was on a paddleboard, and once I was on, I realized there was a fawn with him and knew where he belonged and to whom. When I lifted my head to tell him, he tipped his chin at me.

“Like logs on a fire,” he said, and sighed.

“What?” I asked sharply.

“They stack up.”

My eyes snapped open, and I was in my bed. When I turned to my right, Rulaine was there in my grandmother’s rocking chair, reading Candide, of all things.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, and went back to her book.

Jolting, I woke up, and the room that had been dark was lighter, letting me know it was early, before dawn. Checking the room, I saw no ghosts, noted that Argos was curled up on the rocking chair and that everything else appeared normal. The best part, without question, was Lorne, beside me, passed out, tucked under the covers like someone had made sure he would be warm. I was guessing my grandmother.

Leaning sideways, I kissed his forehead, and he grunted in his sleep.

Getting up, grabbing my robe, I went through the house, not surprised to find the dogs gone or the hearth still blazing. It made the dash to the back door so much nicer than the normal arctic temperature of a November morning. Of course this was nothing compared to January, but I hated the cold and was always in layers.

Stepping outside, I dropped the robe, dashed forward, thought fly, and took to the air, needing to check the rift for myself.

When I arrived, landing in a maple tree, not about to shift and freeze to death, I saw nothing out of the ordinary before getting closer and landing on a fallen log. I saw it then, a mangled body thrown from the rift, landing hard, in a splatter of blood and tissue.

In seconds it was smoking, and then there was a whoosh as flames consumed the corpse and blew hard back into the rift, as though sucked by a vacuum.

Two more came in quick succession, and the answer from the land, from my land, was repeated. Cleansing fire, instantaneous combustion, and ashes blown into the rift. Five came next, and I understood then as I took to the air to return home. They were going to throw out bodies to make a path, like a raft on the ground. What was perplexing was that for them to even throw anything through, there had to be bodies or blood already on my side.

Arriving at the back door, I shifted, or tried to and realized I wasn’t a flock of birds but just one like my grandfather had been. And instead of being where I thought I was, I found myself standing over the house, staring at everything at once, and had to blow the clouds away so I could see the land. When I saw the flock of ravens, it hit me.

“Shit,” I said.

“Wake up!” all the birds yelled at me.

Sitting up in bed, I looked around carefully and found I was alone. The room was well lit, which told me it was later in the morning, and I smelled coffee of all things.

Getting out of bed, I went to the antique armoire in the corner of the room and pulled on briefs, sweats, socks, and a long-sleeved T-shirt before going into the living room.

“Good morning,” I greeted Lorne, who was sipping a mug of coffee.

“Good morning to you,” he said, smiling at me.

“I need to tell you something.”

He looked worried suddenly. “What?”

“Did you wonder last night why you found my clothes at your place?”

“I did. And so you know, I brought those with me, plus everything that was in my car that belongs to you.”

I nodded.

“But yes, if you don’t mind telling me, I’d love to know why you left my house naked.”

I took a breath. “My line, the Corey line, was blessed by a goddess, and that blessing, in me specifically, allows me to turn into a flock of ravens.”

He just stared at me.

I stared back.

“I’m sorry?”