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“Yeah, weird,” I say, glancing at it.
The large black bird is alone on a low rock wall that makes a semi-circle to contain a garden that sits outside the dining area of the hotel. The raven opens its wings and caws but definitely seems to be watching us. Its dark feathers contrast sharply with the salmon pink walls of the hotel.
It’s still sitting there as we drive away and it seems to be not watching us, but watching me. Some memory tugs but I can’t put my finger on what it is. Some dimly remembered story Mom told me maybe. Right before the bird is out of sight, it takes flight.
We make small talk as we’re driven up to the location of the dig. It’s deep in the Highlands so we’ve got plenty of time to kill. I participate as much as necessary but most of my attention is on the world outside the window. The beauty of the highlands is so breathtaking all the odd events of last night become unimportant.
I’m here. I can’t wait to call Dad in the morning.
When the van pulls to a stop, we’re high up. The sky is the most brilliant sapphire blue, and the air is heavy with the scent of peat moss and heather. My head feels light and it’s like I’m walking on air.
Stepping away from the van, I walk out onto the high grass that comes up almost to my knees and close my eyes. I’m home, in a place I’ve never been outside of my dreams.
“Everyone, gather your supplies and we’ll walk the rest of the way to the dig,” Professor Galmatin says.
I shoulder my pack as do my classmates and then we are hiking. I’m bubbly, wanting to giggle, gawk, and stare all at the same time. The air is electric. Huge fluffy clouds dot the sky and the horizon looks so far away across miles of rolling green. As we hike, climbing higher, Loch Awe comes into view. The sun glinting off the water is gorgeous.
Birds take flight, swirling in formations across the sky. The wind blows past us, carrying the heady scents of the Scottish Highlands. Rocky outcrops protrude along our path and ahead on one is a black bird pecking at the stone with a rhythmic tap-tap-tap.
“That looks exactly like the bird back at the hotel,” Savannah says.
“No way,” Ryan says.
“It’s a raven,” I say. “They all look similar.”
“I know,” Savannah says, “but still.”
The raven doesn’t fly off as we walk closer. In fact, it does seem to be watching us, tilting its head to one side. A cloud passes over, casting weird shadows on the land and for the briefest of moments, the raven’s eyes turn reflective. Almost exactly like the stranger’s last night.
A jagged ball of ice forms in my stomach. Only when we’re almost close enough to reach out and touch it does the raven take flight with a loud fluttering of wings and a raucous caw.
“Weird birds here in Scotland,” Gail says.
“All part of the experience,” Professor Galmatin says with a wide grin on his face, sweeping his arm in a broad stroke that encompasses the beautiful vista.
As I take in the beauty, I have the strangest sense of déjà vu. The breeze seems to carry hints of a song that I almost recognize. A sad, lowing song that fills my heart with a deep melancholy. It whispers of love and loss but no one else seems to hear a thing. I shake my head to clear it and we continue our hike.
When we top a rise, the dig site comes into view. A half a dozen white pop-up canopies dot the mostly flat area where the archaeologists are working. It’s a small crew, five people that I see, two of whom are down in a hole as deep as their waists and are handing something up to the other three.
The three take the item and carry it to long folding tables under the canopies. They talk excitedly among themselves though we’re too far away to make out what they’re saying. Professor Galmatin leads the way as we approach the group under the canopies.
“Hello,” Professor Galmatin calls as we approach, waving.
One of the group turns and saunters towards us with an easy smile. She has shoulder length straight brown hair and dusky skin with sharp, intelligent eyes.
“Professor Galmatin and our newly minted archaeologist to be,” she says, “welcome to the Highlands. I’m Abby Calhoun, Chief of this expedition. Come, let me introduce you around.”
“Thank you, Abby,” Professor Galmatin says. “We’re all very excited to work with you.”
She introduces us to the others on her team then shows us around to the work.
“This was once a part of a clan village. This was a house that dates back to the late 17th or early 18th century,” she says as we walk around the edges of the dig. “Your jobs, for now, will be cataloging and observing. Once we’ve seen how you do with that, then we’ll look at expanding duties.”
“What she means, class,” Professor Galmatin says with an easy smile, “is don’t touch anything. Yet.”
“That’s pretty much it,” Abby says. “Any questions?”
We look at each other but all of us were already briefed this would be the extent of our experience so no one has any. Abby thanks us for our help then she climbs down into the dig itself and Professor Galmatin guides us under the canopies.
