Raven: Book Three

by Abra Ebner

  “Hello,” I whispered.

  The tree creaked slightly. I smiled. Looking back at Margriete and Edgar I saw that they hadn’t moved, too afraid they’d miss something. This was it, my chance to show them that I was The One—a chance to prove to myself that the tree in Seattle was not a fluke. I lifted my hand to the trunk, placing my soft skin against the rough wood. The shell of the tree seemed to squish like a sponge, water filling every cell of its existence.

  The branches of the tree swayed and moaned, and as I stood there, I waited for something to change. After a moment, I grew frustrated. Nothing was happening, though the tree was thrashing about. I let go, looking up as it calmed down, almost as though I were hurting it instead.

  “What’s going on?” Margriete called from behind me, now standing a distance away, afraid the tree would hit her.

  I licked the dripping rain from my lips, my brows twisted in to a frustrated mask. “I don’t know. I did just as I always do, just as I did back in Seattle.”

  I turned back to the tree with determination, shutting my eyes and remembering what Edgar had taught me that day on the snowmobile, when we had visited our trees up the mountain. I tried to imagine what I wanted the tree to be, imagining the tree in Seattle and seeing it burn with beauty. I heard the tree before me thrashing again, branches whizzing by my face. I leaned forward, touching it as the image in my head thickened into reality.

  I heard Margriete gasp and relief washed over me, but as I opened my eyes I was disappointed yet again. The tree had tried to do as I had wished for it, but it had failed, now only partially bloomed, the rest of it wilted and dying even more than before. I heard Margriete try to say something but I drowned it out, again focusing as I touched the tree. There was a sharp whoosh then and I felt a branch slice at my face. I yelped as I fell back, my cheek burning as I brought my hand up to touch it. The tree was angry with me.

  I winced as the salt from my touch mixed with the blood from the wound. I then inspected my hand, watching as thick crimson dripped from the tips of my pale fingers, rain diluting the blood as it washed away. I cursed under my breath, standing with one hand on my cheek, the other propping me off the wet ground. Dead pine needles clung to my jeans, the wet fabric making my skin feel numb. A pained tear grew in my eye, forged from both the cut and the frustration. I watched as the agitated tree dropped whatever leaves I had given it, shaking like a wet dog before resuming its tired stand.

  Edgar walked up to me, a handkerchief in his grasp as he pulled my hand from my cheek, now applying his own pressure. “It’s okay, Elle. It will come to you.”

  I exhaled, my shoulders dropping. “Edgar, I don’t know what’s wrong.”

  Margriete walked up and rubbed my shoulders.

  “Elle, darling. It’s just not time yet.” He smiled at me, a glimmer in his eye.

  I saw something behind his stare. “What do you mean? It has to be time.”

  Edgar looked away from me, refolding the handkerchief and looking for a clean side. “Well—it’s nothing, my dear.”

  He was over compensating, and I knew there was something he wasn’t telling me. “What is it, Edgar? You’re a horrible liar.”

  A nervous look crossed his face and he stepped back, handing me the handkerchief. “Well, I—It’s not my place to say, but I do know what it is.” He chuckled, still stepping away from me as though to put a distance between us. “You know how fascinated I am with your kind. Well, I once read, in this very difficult to read book, I wish you could have seen it! It was white and shiny and—”

  “Edgar,” I stopped him, seeing that he was getting off track. His eyes had begun to glaze over and his movements had become poetic, clearly feeling a sort of passion for this book that only a literary genius like him could. I knew just what book he was speaking of, and I saw that Margriete knew, too, as her face lit up.

  Edgar snapped out of it. “Sorry. Anyway, it said that as long as you are together, you can never be as strong as you would be apart. You see, when you are close, all your soul wants is to love. It is happy, and therefore it grows weak!” He walked toward me then, very excited. “Tell me, when you left for Seattle, were you angry with him?”

  I did not want to admit that he was right, but he was. “Well, yeah.”

  Edgar jumped then, resuming his crazy behavior. “Yes! See! You cannot let him stay here for this. He must leave.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “Leave to where?”

  Margriete stepped toward me, her face grave. “He probably means back. He needs to go to Heaven if you are to be at your strongest. There is no place else on this Earth he could go that is far enough, except there.”

  My heart sank. “But, I need him. I was hoping he’d be there to help.”

  Edgar laughed. “Help? My dear, he kills things. Of course he won’t help!”

  I sighed, seeing he was right. Why hadn’t I thought of this, why hadn’t I been able to see it earlier. I hadn’t felt at all the way I had when I’d gone to Seattle, but I had figured it was the anger and hate I’d had toward Edgar, not the fact that his proximity was sucking the power from me. I felt stupid, again. I was so caught up in everything, that I didn’t see the obvious things that were right in front of me. I pulled the handkerchief away from my face, the sting subsiding. I touched the cut. It was still tender but now healing over. By tomorrow, it would be gone as though nothing had happened.

  “So, he has to leave.” I let it sink in. “That’s not so bad. I’ll see him when it’s over.”

  Edgar smiled. “Now that’s the spirit, my girl!”

  Margriete giggled.

  “It’s only temporary. I will take care of him, so will Sam. We will wait for you there.”

  I remembered my plan, and the idea that I was going to strike a bargain with the gods. The idea brought me comfort. I saw Edgar and me in Heaven then, our own house, no longer hiding from the world because we finally belonged. We would be happy there, in the end. It would be our happily ever after. All this was just temporary, and I knew I could handle that; I always did.

  “Well, shall we go back?” I desperately wanted to speak with Edgar about this, find out what he knew.

  Rain ran down Margriete’s brow. “Let’s go, dear.” She looked up at the tree as though to tell it that I would be back. She put her arm around me as we both shook with chill. Edgar took to the air, and without hesitation, we hurried home.

  BEGINNINGS

  Estella

  My Edgar wrapped a blanket around me as I sat on his bed, the fire in the corner now roaring as he had coaxed it to life with his hands.

  “What’s wrong, Elle?” His voice sounded shallow, as though he already knew.

  I pressed my lips together, thinking for a moment. “I know that you know what has to happen. You have to leave, Edgar.”

  He said nothing at first, telling me that I was right to assume. “I know—yes.” His voice was sad.

  “I can understand why you didn’t want to tell me that, either. This one secret is okay. I wish, in fact, that I still didn’t know.” My stomach twisted, the familiar anxiety that I had felt this entire life, returning with a vengeance.

  “I’m sorry that you have to do all this on your own, but it’s true. Margriete has lost all her power. Otherwise, you would have had her to help, but—” I knew he was going to speak of Matthew but refrained.

  “If you died, Edgar, then I would be very strong, wouldn’t I?” The question sounded ominous but I was trying to understand. I looked him in the eyes as he brushed my hair away from my neck, his fingers grazing across my skin. I relished the feeling, now something that felt rare and fleeting.

  “Yes, you would. I suppose that was why the god’s wanted to keep me dead, but at the same time, I think they knew that if they did that, you would not want to cooperate.” He leaned in slowly, pressing his lips against my neck.

  I laughed. “I would hate them so much. Let them die, I’d think. They were smart.” I brought my hand to his
face, feeling as my touch grazed across the rough stubble on his chin.

  “Exactly. But you will be alright without me.”

  “It’s only temporary, after all,” I added. I was justifying, trying to make myself less afraid.

  His nose trailed up to my cheek. “I’m sorry for everything, I know that seems like the only thing I say anymore, but I am.” His breath tickled my ear. “We’re at the end of it now, and I promise there are no more secrets. I have shown it all to you, everything I’ve ever kept. I am completely exposed now.”

  I laid back and away from him then, my body wrapped in the blanket like a cocoon. “I can see why you did it now, and kept all those secrets from me. In truth, I think that was how it was supposed to happen. If I had never gotten angry with you, I would have never gone to Seattle. Without witnessing that tree first hand, I don’t think I would understand how this is meant to happen. I can also understand your denial. If I had known that we had to be apart for all this, then I too would try to deny that it was even real, like you have.”

  “Exactly.” He lay beside me, his head propped up on his hand. “I didn’t want any of this.”

  The house rumbled then, causing both Isabelle and Henry to squawk and hop around on their perch.

  I looked to the windows. “Things are getting really bad out there.” Then I looked Edgar in the eye, hoping he could say something of comfort to me.

  “Yes. It is. But just think, Elle. No matter what happens,” his gaze dropped from mine, “just remember that we have lived long and beautiful lives, even in the bad times. What people don’t understand is that you have to know the bad to appreciate the good.” He sounded uncomfortable saying this, but still heartfelt, revealing a side of him we rarely saw, but I knew could exist. “Every moment is epic, even the smallest. And every moment is a new chance to change and live the life you want.”

  His romantic side was showing. “I know that, and I honor that idea everyday.” His eyes began to filter to black as he leaned his body against mine. He kissed me, his hand tracing behind my ear, my blonde hair lacing between his fingers.

  Our lips intertwined for a moment before I put my hand to his chest, wanting to say something more. I had been thinking of the possibilities and outcomes, the prophecy and the way it had shown me the end. I could die from this, and I knew that. But I did not want to dwell on that fact.

  “If I die—” I licked my lips.

  I heard Edgar grumble as he rolled away from me.

  “Edgar—” I put my hand on his arm, making him listen. “If I die, I don’t want you to worry about me. I don’t want you to be unhappy, or suffer. Please, just live. Promise me?”

  His eyes rolled back to meet mine. “Yes, Elle. I know.”

  I squeezed his arm even tighter. “Edgar, you have to promise me.”

  He laughed. “Elle—”

  A smile grew on my face then as I used my strength to press his wrists away from me, rolling him on his back as I trapped him there beneath me. I leaned down, kissing his neck. “Promise me,” I whispered against his skin.

  His laughed again. “Yes, Elle. I promise.”

  I laughed back, touching his nose to mine. “Find someone else.”

  He snorted then, overpowering me as he rolled us in the other direction. He loomed over me with blackened eyes. “There can never be someone else. I would never allow that.” One side of his mouth curled into a sly grin. “You are my wife, but more than that, you are my only soul mate. Everyone else pales in comparison to you.” I saw the prophecy hover over us then. I rolled my eyes as Edgar became distracted by its presence, trying to swat it away. The cube hit his hand then, flying across the room and bumping into the wall where it fell to the ground with a thud.

  I yelped. “Edgar! That wasn’t very nice.”

  The cube lifted itself back off the ground before dimming its light, as though hurt, and then left the room. Edgar had a satisfied look on his face, bringing his attention back to me as he caressed my arms. “It had bad timing.”

  I giggled as his fingers tickled my skin, trailing to my neck where he leaned in and kissed my skin. I stopped breathing, the feeling of his mouth making me forget that anything else even existed. He kissed my chin, my bottom lip, kissing me with a passion I had learned to love and an edge of danger I craved. I let our bodies become one, willing myself to remember this, and us.

  He stopped himself when he reached my neck, our hips pressed so close, that I knew we were nearing a dangerous point.

  “Don’t stop,” I begged.

  He laughed. “Too bad.”

  I felt his body pull away, his muscles tense and his spine steeled.

  HEAD OUT

  Estella

  I was scratching Isabelle on the head in the morning when I woke, alone. Without fail, she slept at my feet every night, her graceful snoring something I had grown accustomed to in order to fall asleep with the roaring wind and rain. Hail had also started now, coming down in sheets of steeled ice, leaving everything white until it later melted.

  I felt saddened as I felt Isabelle’s feathers between my fingers, knowing that she too would have to leave me. Since the day I had gotten her, she’d changed, becoming immortal as I was. I felt bad that I never gave her the choice of being immortal or not, selfishly pressing it upon her instead. She had never complained, or rather, I doubt she even understood. She clicked her beak at me, feeling content as her feathers ruffled.

  I slowly crawled from bed and made my way to the shelf that contained my journals. There were so many memories here, so many things I had found important to record, now left to be destroyed. I looked at the sheer mass of it all, amazed that it had all been me. They had served their purpose, though. They had brought me back to life.

  Edgar entered the room then, holding a cup of what smelled like coffee as the steam awoke my senses. My tired head invited the aroma, my eyes still weary. I turned and walked up to him with a smile, my eyes fixed on the cup.

  “Thanks.” I took the cup in my hand.

  “What were you doing?” His eyes looked at the shelf.

  I took a sip of coffee, letting the bitter flavor wash across my tongue. “Just remembering is all. It’s unfortunate that all this will likely be destroyed.”

  “How so?” Edgar tilted his head, his brows pressed together.

  I took another sip of coffee before nestling the cup between my hands. “From what I saw from the prophecy, I think that everything man-made will be destroyed. It will all wash away, leaving nothing but the humans to start over.”

  Edgar laughed. “True, but I was actually planning to take the house with me.”

  Surprised, my eyes became wide. “Really? Oh. Well, I guess that changes things then, doesn’t it?” I felt dumb for feeling so nostalgic all of a sudden. “Really? You can do that?”

  He chuckled some more. “Of course I can! The house is invisible already. It’s not very hard to collapse when it’s like this and take with me, though it is quite heavy.”

  I giggled then. “Are you serious, or are you just trying to make me laugh?”

  “No. I’m serious. It collapses, but the weight remains. It was the heaviest marble ever, if you ask me.”

  “Really? Wow.” I felt sad then, as though taking it made this meadow no more than a meadow again. It would be strange and empty, like it was meant to be.

  “So, what are your plans for today?” Edgar asked, changing the subject to something new.

  I cringed when he said it, hating the question as though it meant I’d had a plan, which I didn’t. I had avoided thinking about what was coming in the hopes of relaxing, though that was hardly the case. I had tossed all night, which explains why Edgar had gotten up extra early, tired of my body thrashing about beside him.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it,” I lied. I brought the mug back to my lips, hoping it would give me an excuse not to have to talk.

  Edgar nodded slowly, suspecting my avoidance. “I see. Well—”

 
“How long do you think I have?” I looked at him over the rim of my mug.

  He thought for a moment. “About a week, I suppose. The evergreens are no longer green. That’s usually a bad sign.”

  I exhaled sharply with a smirk, looking out the window of my room as Isabelle lay motionless on my bed. His remark was funny, but when put into perspective, it suddenly lost it’s punch. “Hmmm.” I was thinking dramatically. “It’s probably a good idea to get the ground rules straightened out with the gods then.” I still had not told Edgar about the plan. I was afraid he’d be angry. I knew that Sam knew. I only hoped that he hadn’t told Edgar. Banishing us from this Earth was a major thing; we could never come back. “I suppose I should go get them. What do you think?”

  Edgar nodded with enthusiasm. “Not a bad idea. If you ask the griffins, they should be able to relay the message.”

  Edgar confirmed what I was dreading: another journey to the entrance of the caves. It’s not that I didn’t find it fascinating—I did. I just didn’t have my whole heart in this, a sense of dread floating above me like a dark cloud.

  What if this didn’t work? What if I said goodbye to Edgar, and it was finally for the last time? Even the gods still did not know my plan to banish them, but I did not doubt that they would agree to it. Things were desperate now. I could feel the fear all around us, even from below. They would agree because they had to.

  I placed the mug on the nearby side table and walked to the closet where I dug for some clothes. I pulled a thick wool coat from within and knee-high socks. I grabbed my jeans from a pile on the floor where I also managed to rummage for a turtleneck. I was tired of being wet and cold—I was ready for the warmth. After fighting all of it on, I began to sweat, feeling even more anxious as the heat began to irritate me. Relish it now, I thought.

  Edgar had been watching me. “Will you go with me?” I asked, looking at him with eyes that were begging.

  He smiled, walking up to me and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “Of course.”

  I felt better as he said it, and together we made our way downstairs to pack a few more things and gather Margriete and Sam. I wanted them to come. I needed as many witnesses as I could find.