Raven's Flight

by Chrys Cymri

  Raven formed the image of the black fragments in his mind. Then he increased the size. His search sense opened up. A number of large rocks were only a short flight away, towards the mountains which lay behind the house.

  Refilling his gas chamber, Raven leapt into the air and followed the invisible path which led to his target. A line of black and red rocks tumbled down the side of one hill. He landed awkwardly, the scree sharp and slippery under foot. With one golden claw, he flicked away shards which were too small or contained too much grey or white.

  Several large pieces emerged. Raven picked them up in his talons. His fingertoes found it hard to hold onto the slippery rocks. With great reluctance, he put them into his mouth. They were heavy and cold on his tongue, and he could only hope that he wouldn’t swallow them. There had to be a better way to carry small objects.

  Back at their house, he deposited the obsidian onto a rock, and directed fire at the largest one. The edges curled away from the blue-white flames. Raven could see how a carefully controlled flame might be able to carve the black stone into new shapes, but his lips and gums were already aching from the heat.

  He walked down to the lake to cool his mouth in the near-freezing water. Then he carefully gathered the rocks in his mouth. After the effort of carrying them this far, he wasn’t going to leave them outside.

  Audrey was standing near the building. A sudden shaft of sunlight lit up her dark clothes and blonde hair. She tilted back her head and sang, ‘“Brightest and best of the stars of the morning, dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid; Star of the East, the horizon adorning, guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.”’

  The obsidian trembled against his tongue. Raven spat them out, but not before one sharp edge had cut into flesh. The metallic taste of his own blood filled his mouth. He swallowed, and stood still until the bleeding had stopped.

  Audrey had gone down to the lake with her buckets. Raven looked down at the rocks, wondering why they were inert again. ‘Audrey? Could you please sing again?’

  ‘Any requests?’

  ‘What you were singing earlier?’

  She stopped scooping water and took a deep breath. ‘“Brightest and best of the stars of the morning…”’

  The obsidian lay dormant until she reached a high note. Then they moved, just slightly, and Raven had his answer. He opened his jaws, tightened his vocal cords, and released a few sounds of his own. As he pitched higher and higher, the stones shuddered. Then one cracked down the middle, and another shed several layers.

  ‘That hurts my ears,’ Audrey called up. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Singing,’ Raven said happily. He could see how the curve along one piece echoed his notes. If he were to direct his tone and intensity, would he be able to form the obsidian into whatever design he wanted? So long as the weather remained mild, he could take time between hunts to work on his technique. He might have a present for Audrey after all.

  <><><><><><>

  A storm roared through the valley a few days later. Cold wind found gaps between the stones, and sent icy fingers through the walls into the house. Audrey kept the fireplace stocked with wood. During the break in the weather, she had rolled some stones into the building. At her direction, Raven carefully warmed them with his flame. Heat slowly dissipated from their rough surfaces.

  Audrey declared one evening to be Christmas Eve. Extra candles were lit. She placed one by the wooden figures, and two on the table. ‘Here’s what Luke’s Gospel tells us,’ she said, smoothing the thin pages under her hands. ‘“And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.”’

  Raven, curled up near the door, listened carefully, although she had read this section once before. From the tone of her voice, the story was very important to her. He found it hard to follow. She had tried to explain how shepherds kept animals safe rather than hunt them, and that angels were like humans but had wings and saw God face to face. He was inclined to like angels, since they could fly, but he couldn’t understand why anyone would want to live alongside prey.

  When she finished, Audrey rose from the table and placed the smallest wood carving at the feet of the two on the shelf. Then she began to sing.

  ‘“Silent night, holy night,

  All is calm, all is bright

  Round yon virgin mother and child.

  Holy infant, so tender and mild,

  Sleep in heavenly peace,

  Sleep in heavenly peace.”’

  As she went on to a second verse, Raven closed his eyes to better enjoy the sound. The wood smoke from the fire combined with the waxy scent of the candles. The wind had died down, and the house was pleasantly warm. Audrey had placed extra meat into the pot, which now hung in the hearth, and his mouth watered at the smell of the broth bubbling away. Why had Audrey feared winter so much? He wished it would never end.

  ‘Now, no peeking.’ Raven looked across to her half-lit face. She had a large box in her hands, which she placed on the table. ‘This is your Christmas present, but you can’t open it until tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Then why show it to me now?’

  ‘Because the anticipation is part of the joy.’ She blew out two of the candles. ‘Let’s have our dinner and an early night.’

  ‘More songs first?’ Raven asked.

  ‘More tomorrow. I promise. We’ll see how many Christmas carols I can remember.’

  Raven swallowed his meal in several gulps, too happy to make his usual complaint at being forced to eat vegetables as well as meat. Afterwards, Audrey curled up next to him, tucking her blankets into place around her legs. ‘Now, young dragon, if you hear sounds in the night, you must remain quiet with your eyes shut.’

  ‘If I heard a sound in the night, I’d want to find out what it is.’

  ‘But we’ll know what it is.’ Her voice was fading. ‘It’ll be Father Christmas, coming down the chimney with either oranges or coal, depending on whether you’ve been a good or a bad dragon in the past year. Don't worry, Raven, I’ve put in a word for you. You’ve been a very good dragon.’

  Her words washed warmth through his body. As her breathing steadied into the rhythm of sleep, Raven curved his neck around so that his muzzle rested near her head. Her musky scent, a mixture of smoke, blood, and sweat, filled his nostrils. She was the only present he wanted.

  <><><><><><>

  ‘“Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,”’ Audrey sang, ‘“The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.”’ As her voice filled the room, she brought the wooden box over to Raven. ‘Merry Christmas to my favourite dragon.’

  He stared inside. A large leather pouch rested against the raw sides. ‘It’s empty.’

  ‘Of course it is. Until you fill it.’ She pulled it out and showed him the wide straps. ‘It’ll fit around your hind leg. This way, you can carry things with you.’

  Raven dipped his head in a nod. Much better than sticking rocks in his mouth. ‘And now for your present.’ He reached a forefoot into the corner that held his box of gems. The three obsidian figures shone in the candlelight. ‘Joseph, Mary, and baby Jesus.’

  ‘They’re beautiful.’ Audrey carefully took them into her own hands. The two larger ones were as long as her palm, and the smallest was a third their size. ‘They’re wearing clothes like mine.’

  ‘Isn’t that how all humans dress?’

  Then she started to l
augh. ‘And they all have breasts.’

  Now he was even more confused. ‘Don't all humans?’

  Audrey placed the figures on the shelf. ‘Let’s just say it gives a different twist to the story of the Messiah’s birth. I should think Beryl’s father would’ve had a shock.’

  ‘But you?’ Raven asked. ‘Do you like them?’

  ‘Oh, yes, very much.’ Her fingers wandered over to the wooden carvings. ‘Do you mind if I leave these up? Beryl worked very hard on them, and it’s really all I have to remember her by.’

  ‘Of course,’ Raven said quickly. A sad note had come into her voice. ‘Merry Christmas, Audrey.’

  ‘And it will be!’ Audrey spun away from the wall. ‘Father Christmas came last night, and do you know what he left for you?’ She opened one of the clay jars. ‘Dried oranges.’

  Raven stared at the dull slices. Whatever coal was, he was certain it had to be better than what she was holding out to him. But he slid out his tongue and scooped a slice from her palm. It was both sweet and slightly sour, but he managed to swallow it down.

  Audrey dried her hands and then rubbed them together. ‘Christmas Day. We need to start preparing lunch. I’d hoped to afford a turkey this year, but venison will have to do, if the ice house has worked. After lunch, we’ll play some games, like charades. Later in the evening, we’ll sing carols. I’ve saved up the last of the whisky so I can make merry after dinner. Does all that sound good to you?’

  Raven sometimes wondered if he’d ever be able to understand half of what she said. ‘Yes, it does.’

  While Audrey prepared the vegetables, he forced the door open far enough to blow flames on the packed snow. He slowly cleared a path to the storage pit, then dug down to the wooden covering. More snow had to be cleared in order for him to push it aside. Then he could reach inside and snag a haunch of venison. The meat had a strong smell, but a quick nibble confirmed that it was fine for human and dragon consumption. He carried it to the house, then returned to cover up the ice house.

  Audrey cooked her portion of the deer, but left his untouched. Raven withdrew from the table to chew his portion. As Audrey ate, her expression wavered in the dim light. Throughout the morning she had alternated between happy singing and sudden scowls. He wondered which would take over after lunch.

  ‘Charades!’ Audrey announced when she had scrubbed her plate clean. ‘This is how you play. I’ll think of something, like a type of animal, and I’ll hold up my fingers to show you how many syllables are in the animal’s name. I’ll act out the animal, and you have to guess what it is.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Raven said slowly.

  Audrey held up two fingers. Then she placed her palms by her ears and flicked them back and forth. At the same time, she hopped across the floor, her boots clanking against the boards. She opened her mouth and clattered her teeth together. ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘No.’

  She straightened. ‘I was supposed to be a rabbit.’

  ‘Oh.’ Suddenly Raven understood. ‘You were pretending to be a rabbit.’

  ‘Exactly. Do you want to have a go?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘One syllable.’ Lowering himself to the floor, he tucked legs and wings close to his body, and did his best to wriggle from door to fire.

  ‘A snake?’ Audrey clapped her hands. ‘No. A fish!’

  ‘Yes.’ Raven had ended up closer to the fire than planned, and he backed away carefully, trying not to knock the table with his chest. ‘You again.’

  They ran through a number of animals. Raven discovered that the more outrageous he tried to make his impressions, the more Audrey laughed. After he had correctly guessed that her latest attempt was a hawk, she told him, ‘Just one more. Make it a good one.’

  ‘Two syllables.’ Raven carefully rose up on two legs, his haunches trembling at the effort. He clutched forelegs close to his chest and spread out his wings.

  ‘An eagle? A falcon.’ Audrey shook her head. ‘Give me a clue.’

  ‘You read about them last night.’

  ‘An angel?’

  Raven lowered himself back down to all fours. ‘Yes, an angel.’

  She smiled at him. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if that’s what you are.’

  He snorted. ‘No, I’m a dragon.’

  Audrey went to the Bible resting on the table, and flipped through the pages. ‘“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” I know you’re not an angel, Raven, but animals can also be God’s messengers. And I’m very glad I rescued you from the lake.’

  ‘So am I.’ He reached out to nudge her shoulder. ‘And now you’ll sing?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I did promise, didn’t I?’ Audrey cleared her throat. ‘Let’s see how many carols I can remember.’

  Raven swivelled his ears forward, not wanting to miss a single note of her beautiful voice. Audrey sang several verses, then encouraged him to join in as she repeated the carol. He did his best to remember the words, although some of them were very strange. What was ‘frankincense’, who was ‘Israel’, and how did ‘Welkin’ ring?

  After nearly an hour, Audrey finished with a cough. ‘I’m getting hoarse.’

  ‘Just one more?’

  ‘For you, Raven, just one more.’ She gulped down some water. ‘Here goes.

  “In the bleak mid-winter

  Frosty wind made moan;

  Earth stood hard as iron,

  Water like a stone;

  Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

  Snow on snow,

  In the bleak mid-winter

  Long ago.”’

  Audrey stuttered to a stop. For a long moment she stared down at her hands. Then she rose from her chair. ‘That’s quite enough of that,’ she declared, her eyes glittering in the firelight. ‘The sun is over the yardarm, so it’s time I had a little drink.’

  The whisky bottle was half empty. Raven turned his head as she poured amber liquid into one of her clay mugs. The harsh smell made his nostrils flutter.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want any?’ Audrey asked.

  ‘Very sure.’

  ‘Your loss.’ She downed the drink in one long swallow. ‘We did have some spirits on the plane, of course. We broke so many rules on that flight.’

  ‘What rules?’

  ‘There shouldn’t have been five of us, for a start.’ Audrey poured out more whisky. ‘Alex brought some gin on board. And I had packed a frock.’

  Raven was tired of words which meant nothing to him. ‘What’s a frock?’

  ‘I’ll show you.’ She went into her bedroom. A few minutes later, she stepped back into the main room. The usual tattered mixture of blue cloth and leather clothing had been replaced with a sweep of red-brown material. The puffed sleeves stopped short of her elbows, and the plunging neckline exposed her pale skin. The dress spread down from her hips to brush the floor.

  ‘You look so different,’ Raven marvelled.

  ‘My party frock.’ Audrey smoothed the velvety material. ‘Miles Boyd had invited me to a party in London, and how could I go to a do in my flying clothes?’ More whisky was splashed into her mug. ‘Actually, this frock isn’t mine. It belongs to Doreen. She insisted. I had nothing to wear, so she said I could borrow her dress. She was always like that, so caring. She’d give you the shirt off her back. Why did she have to die?’

  The downward pull was back on her face. ‘But you’re alive.’

  ‘So I am.’ Audrey gulped at her drink. ‘But why me?’

  Raven searched desperately for an answer, one which might make her happy and willing to sing again. ‘God saved you?’

  ‘Then he has a strange set of priorities.’ Audrey slumped into her chair. ‘Doreen had a fellow, they were going to marry. Beryl was setting up a business and had all these plans for women pilots after the war. Mark was one of the best pilots in the RAF, and now his two little children will never see their daddy again. And as for Sally, she was always taking in waifs and stray
s. Wherever we went, she’d give food to homeless animals. Why did God take them, and leave me alone?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Of course you don’t, you’re a dragon.’ The bottle was now down to its last quarter. ‘What would a dragon know about the Almighty?’ She shook her head. ‘Bleak mid-winter. I’ve had five winters, Raven, five winters. Never knowing if I’d starve to death by spring, or freeze if I hadn’t prepared enough wood. But then spring comes, and all I do is work until winter returns. On my own, except for visits from passing traders or travelling vampires. It’s not a life. Sometimes I wonder if God decided to be merciful to Mark and Sally and Doreen and Beryl. Maybe he decided to punish me by letting me live.’

  ‘Aren’t you glad to be alive?’

  ‘Sometimes. Maybe. Sometimes.’

  Raven stepped forward. ‘I’m glad you’re alive.’

  ‘Every dog is happy when his master is at home.’ Audrey’s hand shook as she topped up her mug. ‘That doesn’t mean his master shares his happiness.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you mean.’

  She laughed. It was high, and unpleasant, and Raven’s ears and horns twisted low against his head. ‘I’m not certain I do either. It just sounded right at the time.’

  The bottle was nearly empty. Raven studied her flushed face. ‘Maybe you shouldn't have any more of that.’

  ‘What, deprive me of one of the few pleasures I have left?’ Her words ran together, as if she could no longer be bothered to pronounce them correctly. ‘I should be in a nice house, nothing fancy, maybe a little terraced house. A husband, two children, a tortoise. I’ve always wanted a tortoise.’ She hiccupped. ‘Flying, of course. Still flying. The tortoise wouldn't mind. Do you think the tortoise would mind?’

  ‘Not if you took him flying with you,’ Raven suggested.