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All it takes is a quick glance all around to leave me feeling small, overwhelmed, and so ill matched against the task at hand, even I’m betting against me.
Without Raven’s guidance, without Dace beside me, I’ve no idea where to begin. The Lowerworld is an immense place of many dimensions and no conceivable end. It’s a haystack-meet-needle situation.
I grab hold of my soft buckskin pouch and wrap my fingers around it. Hoping the pendulum was right, that I really should continue to wear it in good faith—I send a silent plea for help. Appealing to the elements, my ancestral spirits—whoever and whatever might be willing to guide me. Then I tuck the pouch back in place and start walking with no real direction in mind, but determined to cover as much ground as I can.
Though I don’t actually see any undead Richters, their presence can be sensed in the lack of chirping birds, the absence of animals at play. Even Wind, my guiding element, usually so willing to serve, is felt only by its lack—resulting in the grim weighted silence that surrounds me. While the terrain grows increasingly bleak with each passing step.
The lawns normally so luxurious and verdant are now a muddied patchwork of browns. The grove of tall trees normally cloaked with a thick blanket of leaves are reduced to mere skeletons of their former selves. Their trunks scorched and hollowed, the remaining foliage parched and split at the edges. It’s the opposite of everything I’ve come to expect.
I consider a trip to the Bone Keeper, but nix the idea just as quickly. She may hold a certain insight into Dace and my destiny, she may know just exactly what the Echo is, but she’s also made it clear she’d much rather mock than help. Besides, I doubt she’d be the least bit disturbed by the way this place has transformed. Bones are her game, and death is the vehicle that brings them to her.
I continue walking, journeying for what feels like forever. Well past the point when my feet are blistered and sore, my legs shaky and fatigued.
Continuing until I’m sure I can’t take it anymore—and then I go on some more.
Stopping only when I come across a large, smooth boulder, where I plop myself down and bury my face in my hands. Wondering what to do next. Wondering how I’ll ever succeed when all I seem to do is wander in circles with no hint of progress.
So immersed in despair, I nearly miss the swoosh of wings flapping overhead.
Raven.
My Raven.
His purple eyes wildly glimmering as he flies a perfect circle above me.
I frown, unsure if I should trust him. There’s a good chance he’s working for the enemy … then again, I did ask for help, and maybe he’s simply answering the call?
He lands right beside me, purple eyes glimmering as he drops a flower bud onto my lap and gives it an insistent nudge with the curved tip of his beak.
I grab it by the stem, examining the satiny petals, trying to remember where I’ve seen this particular bloom, when Raven lowers his head and pecks hard at my leg.
I scowl. Push him away with my knee. Watching as he spans his wings wide and lifts into flight—circling insistently over my head until I heave a deep breath and give in. Convincing myself that even if he is leading me into some kind of trap, it’s still better than wandering aimlessly. If I end up in the Richters’ lair, at least it’ll give me something to do—something to work with. Anything is better than this.
The thought vanishing the instant I realize he’s led me to the Enchanted Hot Spring where Dace stands at its edge. Poking deep into the water with a long sharp branch he’s plucked from the canopy of blooming vines that swoop overhead.
Vines that bear the same type of flower Raven dropped in my lap.
“Why aren’t you at work?” I ask, taking a moment to appreciate the long lean line of his back.
He turns, eyeing me slowly when he replies, “Why’d you ditch school?”
My eyes dart toward Raven, now comfortably perched on Horse’s neck, then I head for the place where Dace stands. “Guess this seemed more important.” I reach for his hand, lace my fingers with his.
“Ditto.” He grins, his icy-blue gaze fixed on mine. Though it’s only a moment later when he’s frowning at the spring once again.
“More fish?” I ask. “Or, God forbid, something worse?”
He shakes his head and prods the stick into the water once more. Swishing it around a few times before he tosses it aside and says, “Not worse, just weird. From what I can tell, it’s perfectly clear.”
“But that’s a good thing, right?” I crane my neck to get a better look. Confirming that the water is indeed back to the way I first encountered it—bubbling, enticing, and free of dead, bloated fish. But one look at Dace tells me he remains unconvinced.
“There’s no doubt they’ve gone—but where did they go?” he asks.
I screw my mouth to the side and stare hard at the spring. Noticing for the first time how everything about this place appears brighter, lusher, than all the other times we were here. The vines are springier—their blooms fatter. Even the water seems extra sparkly. The bubbles skimming the surface resembling delicate crystal orbs that float ’til they pop and then reform again.
“It’s like it’s been restored.” I blink, stare, blink again—unwilling to trust what I see. Glancing at Raven and wondering if he’s maybe not nearly as corrupted as I thought.
Is there a small part of him that’s still on my side?
