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The raven tilts its head in an almost inquisitive look. It’s pure black eyes sparkle and its beak is part way open. I stare at it for a long moment while feeling something. Something I can’t put my finger on. It’s not so much a feeling as it is a calling. A memory? A sense of having lost something or not remembering something I should remember.
Shaking my head to clear it, I resume walking. The bird will do what the bird is going to do. After all, it’s a bird. Anything else is me projecting onto it. I don’t need to engage in any anthropomorphism; My life is already weird enough.
As I walk closer, the raven doesn’t move. Strange, but so is everything else and that barely ranks on the scale of odd occurrences. I slow my steps but keep walking until I’m almost within an arm’s reach. The raven caws loudly. So loud it almost hurts my ears. It flutters its wings, hopping from one foot to the other. I stop approaching when it doesn’t take off in flight.
“You’re a strange bird,” I say. “Are you not scared of me? I’m much bigger than you. I’m warning you—you’d best be on your way. Shoo.”
I make small motions with my hands trying to shoo the bird away while not wanting to engage it too much. The last thing I need is to have a battle with a bird. I saw what that bird did to Thomas when he was fighting with Duncan. I don’t want raven claws on my face. The raven caws, wings open wide, and prances about on the stone.
“Fine,” I say, taking a step back.
After I take two more, it settles down, stopping its noise and folding its wings closed. The bird and I stare at each other and that strange tingling feeling continues at the edges of my awareness. It feels like something I should know or did know. Like trying to remember something that is right there, on the tip of my tongue. Scowling, I try to figure it out. As I do, the raven bobs its head up and down as if encouraging me.
“Stop it, Quinn,” I say out loud, mostly to hear any sound besides the soft blow of the wind and the noise the raven is making. “It’s not human. It’s a bird. A freaky bird, yes, but a bird all the same.”
The raven caws and opens its wings wide as if protesting my assessment. I rub my forehead. I’m losing it for sure. Maybe that’s what has been going on this entire time. I’ve gone off the deep end. This is all some fantasy purely in my head. If it is, though, it sure feels real. Too real.
I can’t force the sensation to coalesce into anything more and now I feel foolish. Shaking my head, I throw my hands up in the air. This is ridiculous.
“You win, bird. You win.”
I turn my back on the raven and stride off in a new direction. As I do, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and my shoulder muscles knot. I feel like I need to be ready to duck an attack. Goose pimples raise on my arms. I roll my shoulders trying to ease the pressure, but it doesn’t help. I try to ignore it, but the sensation grows stronger. At last, I give up and dare to look back over my shoulder.
The raven is gone. As if it was never there in the first place. Where it was is a thick fog rolling down from the mountain. Fear flutters through my soul, the thrumming wings of a hummingbird pressing against my sanity.
“Oh, god,” I mutter.
Chapter Fourteen
Fog. Like the fog that ended up with me here. Could it have come to take me home? Is my adventure about to end? Or will I be dumped in some other place and time? Each possibility drifts through my thoughts but then the worst of them all occurs to me.
What if nothing happens at all? What if this is it? I’m stuck here, lost in time to live out the rest of my days.
My heart speeds up as cold sweat trickles between my breasts and down my back. Berries or not, I need to get back to Alesoun’s home. I whirl away from the incoming fog. As I do, something dark flashes in the edge of the fog. Dark and human shaped. I turn back to confront the blur but there’s nothing there. It must have been some kind of artifact of light reflecting oddly off the fog.
Fear settles on me for real. Chills race along my limbs and my breath speeds up to match the racing of my heart. I know better than to run. The ground up here is treacherous with unexpected holes hidden by the grass, any one of which could break an ankle. There are plenty of rocks to trip me up but danger or no, I’m not hanging out here and waiting. I stride down the hill. I’m off the path I took coming up and looking around I can’t spot it.
“Good job,” I mutter to myself. My getting lost skill has leveled up.
Something moves in my peripheral. I jerk away from it while looking towards it. A man stands a short way off, staring at me. The sunlight hits him from behind, casting him in dark shadow. The fog is thick on the ground around him coming up to his calf. I can’t see his eyes, but he seems to be staring at me.
Memories of my treatment at the hands of the Colquhouns and their threats are too fresh to risk confronting a stranger alone. This is far from an enlightened age for women’s rights and no matter how liberal I might consider myself to be, I’m also not an idiot. Armed or not, a man will be bigger and stronger than I am. I won’t be able to fight him off if he wants to harm me or worse.
Throwing caution to the wind, I break into a run. I glance over my shoulder to look for any pursuit and he’s gone. Was he really there? Is my fear causing me to see things or make more out of things than they are? Maybe it was a rock. Or a reflection. A casting of light. Something?
I don’t know but I’m scared. Scared enough I’m not going to hang out here and wait to see if it was a figment of my imagination. I force myself to stop running though, because without a imminent threat, the danger that the ground presents is real.
Slowing to a walk, I work to catch my breath while figuring out the way back to the village. I know I need to go down, so I keep moving in that direction but the fog rolling in is covering all the landmarks I made note of on my way up.
“I’m not lost. I’m not lost,” I mutter to reassure myself.
I swivel my head trying to spot things I recognize. Anything to orient myself to the way back. Once again, I spot a dark figure in my peripheral vision but this time, he’s closer. As if he is popping up out of the fog itself. I yelp, a loud squeak that is a long way from dignified, but this isn’t the time for dignity. It’s time for survival.
I burst into a run. I know I’m losing it when the wind feels like it's pushing against me. The fog is over my feet, obscuring the ground. I race faster but it feels like the fog is slowing me down. It’s all in my head; it has to be. It’s fear. All of this is fear, that’s all. I have to get to the village or close enough that I can yell. If they hear me, they’ll send help.
Duncan will come. He’ll protect me.
I glance over my shoulder and the dark figure is closer. There’s no doubt I see him. As I open my mouth to yell at him, I trip.
