Call of the Raven

by Shawn Reilly

  Shivering uncontrollably, Grant pushed back a long sinuous branch and looked upon an image of a marble raven. The beak was open in mid-caw. The eyes were made of red jewels that glistened in the moonlight, which gave off an eerie manifestation as though it were alive.

  He let the branch go and dropped down on his haunches. With a black gloved hand, he moved the tall grass aside, so he could see the name etched into the stone. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he breathed a staggered breath.

  He recognized the name.

  The chorus from the owl, the crickets, and the wind suddenly ceased leaving a ghostly silence in their wake. Earnestly, he sought out the moon, his eyes attempting to channel its power. This visual conduit was the means to his magic. But it wasn’t working. Without his magic he wouldn’t be able to cast the spell.

  "That's where you’re wrong. Before the cock crows the Raven will call and you will be no longer."

  How could he have been so stupid?

  As Parker’s successor he remembered the oppressive feeling that had been there the night of his death. Grant had felt it deep within his soul that Parker was going to die. And sadly, this night as Asher stood in the window watching him go, without so much as a farewell, he had known.

  Grant meant to stand but before he could, he was suddenly knocked forward with such force that, his head smashed against the hardness of the tombstone. Pain shot backward from his eyes and traveled down to his neck. He tried to move his fingers, his arms, his legs, but they did not respond.

  Without warning his body rose up from the ground and began to spin in rapid circles, and then just as quickly as the assault began, it came to an abrupt stop. With his brain continuing on in its gyrating dance, acidic bile crept up from his stomach. He swallowed hard to prevent himself from getting sick.

  Once again the invisible force took possession of his body and slammed him against the cold wet earth. An involuntary grunt escaped from his lips upon impact, while his ears filled with the sounds of evil laughter. Within his peripheral vision, Grant spotted a darkened form standing just on the edge of the trees. He tried to turn his head but his body refused to obey, so he lay still and quiet as the figure approached.

  With each slow methodical stride, Grant could make out more and more of his assailant…the Raven. He could make out a long dark trench coat—collar stiffly gathered around the neck, and black fingerless gloves. From his hands a brilliant light began to glow, blinding Grant, so that all he could see was the light.

  “Why are you doing this?” Grant cried out. “I trusted you.”

  “Because it is expected, because I have no choice. That is why.” With glowing red eyes the Raven drew back preparing to throw the light.

  “Please,” Grant groaned, “let it end here with me.”

  For a moment Grant was lost in the stars, his thoughts taking him back to the very first time he saw her working the register in the cafeteria. She was so much younger than he was but at that very moment, he knew without a doubt that he had been taken in by her smile. Now he would never know what their future might hold, all because he had blindly let the Raven come into his life.

  His mind began to race between the faces of those he loved—all doomed to a life under Asher’s heartless supervision. Surrendering to fate, Grant lay helpless on the damp ground. Even if he could, there was no reason to try and move now. He was dying. Through haze filled eyes he blinked upward at the distorted face that loomed over him.

  “Let it end here, please,” he mouthed.

  Squatting down, the Raven stroked Grant's hair back from his brow. Anguish swept over Grant as he searched the face he knew well. “There, there Keeper, don't let it bother you too much. Your instincts are no good around me. It's not your fault that you didn't suspect anything. I was made that way, to conceal what I am, even from myself. It's the only way a Raven can get revenge, and it's the only reason we exist.”

  “Please,” Grant coughed as blood splattered across his shirtfront, “leave my family alone!” Pain raged through his body from his injuries, but far more excruciating was the inner turmoil of knowing that Asher was right. He had failed and the curse would continue.

  “For your obedience to the call your family will survive. However, for Asher I'm afraid that's entirely out of the question, because he's the one we want now.”

  “No!” Grant begged one last time. “Let him be.”

  “Sorry but it’s his turn now.” With his purpose realized, the Raven disappeared in a flash of lightening that momentarily lit up the darkened woods. Grant closed his eyes willing Asher to hear him, hoping that he might get the message. They were wolf brothers. Even though Asher tended to both deny and resent what he was, he was a wolf all the same.

  And he was the Keeper now.

  No comfort came, nothing but the black void that was associated with Asher’s heart.

  Grant refused to die like this.

  He would not die.

  He would live, if only to prove Asher wrong.

  Besides, dying meant leaving his child alone, and Grant refused to let that happen.

  A warm pulsating aura began to emanate from Grant’s body, a slow tingle that started in his feet and spread upward growing stronger as it reached his brain. Now that the Raven was through with him, his magic was returning. Grant summoned what strength he had left, along with hope.

  That combination would be all that he needed to cast the spell. Just a few simple syllables would allow his body to die, but his spirit hopefully would live on. Warmth flowed throughout his body as he uttered the words, and as it traveled, it washed away his pain. He relished the peace even though it would be short-lived.

  Rain drizzled down upon his face as he laid waiting for the inevitable to come. The easy part was over. Soon the hard part would begin. Only through death could the spell be achieved. Beat by beat his pulse began to quicken, until a tearing spasm—like a hand seizing his heart in a death grip, took hold.

  Yes, his body would die, but…

  As his head rolled backward, Grant’s gaze fell on the grotesque statue of the raven. Two red angry eyes glared down at him. Grant knew that the Raven was aware that he had made the ultimate sacrifice. Even as the crescendo of torment grew and Grant Lake lay dying, a smile formed on his lips.

  It would end…yes, it would end.

  Chapter One

  The Unexpected

  Ten years later.

  “Grant…!” Asher shouted over and over again until his throat was raw and he exhausted himself. “You told me to look for you. Where are you? Tell me what I’m supposed to do!”

  When the booming echoes of his voice grew silent, he quietly listened, but the only thing he heard was the sound of rain hitting the tin roof above. Disappointed, Asher quietly turned and left the church. This year, it was no different.

  Once again he was leaving alone. Crossing over the graves of his ancestors, mist circled his feet like withering fingers threatening to pull him down into the infinite black pits of obscurity. He had news for them though—he was already there. This night, as he did every year on the anniversary of Grant’s call, Asher Lake walked with his own demons.

  To the cemetery, there appeared to be no end. Its depth and width spread over many acres of family owned land, mirroring the vastness of Asher’s misery. Rain fell as he walked along the lonesome rows, plastering his hair to his head. The shadowy outlines of the many jagged stones rose up hauntingly around him like whispers from the unfortunate souls entombed there within the cold ground—every last rotting corpse only serving to remind him that hope too was dead.

  The temperature had dropped rapidly over the last couple of hours and now the garden’s mud puddles were covered in a thin layer of brittle ice. Asher felt drained, pushed to mental exhaustion. Stopping in the center, the very spot he had last seen Grant alive, he looked heavenward. The tiny cold pricks of numerous snowflakes fell upon his face and eyelids. He licked them from his lips. A sudden gust of wind slapped hi
s hair about his face and caused a tingling sensation in his ears and fingers. The manor loomed before him, a dismal outline under the dull moon.

  Built in the mid-seventeen hundreds out of a dark unappealing stone, he had never considered the structure to be a thing of beauty. However, after the newer renovations, he found the inside walls far more comforting. This night it signified warmth and security and that’s all that mattered. Moving on, Asher entered through the kitchen and stood dripping water on the tile floor, allowing his body to warm up.

  Seventeen-year-old Kennedy had fallen asleep at the table with her head on a towel which she obviously had meant for him. When he gently pulled it out from under her, she darted upright.

  “It’s only me, girl.” Asher ran the coarse towel through his hair. Relaxing, she dropped back onto the seat as a foul odor instantly assaulted his nostrils. “What is that horrid stench?”

  “Well it’s not me,” she said defensively. “You fired the maid last week, remember? That’s the garbage.”

  “The incompetence of this household is unbelievable.” He shrugged off his wet coat and tossed it over the table before her. Wiping small droplets of water from her face Kennedy peered up at him.

  “Where’s my brother?” he snapped before she could open her mouth. She was sizing him up, checking his disposition. For days, Asher had been perfectly aware that she was working up to something, and usually that meant money was somehow involved.

  “He’s not home yet and neither is Nixon.”

  “Unbelievable.” Slipping off his boots, Asher left them by the door and walked in his damp socks across the kitchen floor. “No doubt Ari is entertaining his latest fling and Nixon is out discovering a new way to break the law. So let me guess, the one person I least wish to depend on is you, but more than likely you’ve handled my entire schedule for both this night and tomorrow.”

  “I cancelled the Pillar Council meeting for tonight, took the brunt end of Linn’s wrath and gave you the day off tomorrow, but then again, you take every day off.”

  Asher leaned up against the doorframe and regarded her with an observant gaze. “Nixon wanted a car. So, what is it you want?”

  “I want to go on spring break with some friends to Greece.”

  Asher shook his head forcefully. “Out of the question,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t need to give you a reason. The answer is no, so there’s no point in discussing it further. Now, where’s Madam Linn? I wish to avoid her if I can.” Asher arched his brow at her obvious pouting and with one quick glance upward she let out a frustrated sigh.

  “Oh, all right, I put her in the guesthouse instead of upstairs, so you don’t have to worry about running into her.”

  “That means absolutely nothing.” Asher argued. “Linn just loves to flaunt her authority by roaming free about the manor at all hours of the night, and she all too frequently haunts the library. The ideal of that would be favorable since reading absorbs time that otherwise is spent snooping, but Linn doesn’t sit and read, she paces and reads. I shouldn’t have to remind you that the library is above my chambers, and that my disposition is not pleasant without proper sleep.”

  “Funny, I didn’t know sleep had anything to do with your disposition,” she smartly stated.

  Asher let a slow leer cross his lips. He had to hand it to her, she had guts. “I pray that, at least, my reason for canceling the meeting was sufficient?”

  “I told her it was because of the snowstorm coming.”

  He let his smile turn mocking, “Is there one coming?”

  “Yes, there is a snowstorm coming. I was getting worried about you, but I know how you are about doing this every year alone.” Pausing, Kennedy nervously picked at her bright orange fingernails. “I guess you didn’t find anything this year either.”

  Asher shook his head, figuring if she really believed the idea possible, she would have asked him the instant he got back, not several lines of conversation later. In her very tone, he sensed the doubt, so he chose to redirect the conversation.

  “Did Madam Linn ask where I was?”

  “I didn’t say anything about you going to look for Grant. I didn’t see a reason to tell her. You’re right though. Ari shouldn’t have scheduled the meeting on the same night. I told him it was important to you.”

  “My brother thinks I’ve lost my mind, and you really must want to go to Greece pretty badly if you’re defending me to him.”

  Kennedy lowered her eyes to her lap and wiped the tiny orange specks away that dusted the tops of her jeans. Throughout their conversation she had nervously picked until every bit of polish was off the first few fingers of her right hand. She decided not to respond to the accusation.

  “Well, like I said, Linn wasn’t very happy about you canceling the meeting,” she responded instead.

  “Looks like I have two storms coming my way—the weather and Linn.”

  Kennedy, still pouting, didn’t look at him. “Then Greece really is out of the question?”

  “I don’t usually go back on my decisions, girl. Why question me now?”

  “Because you never say no to Nixon,” she mumbled, causing Asher to turn back in his effort to leave. He narrowed his eyes on her. “I’m sorry,” she quickly added. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Oh, but you did,” he laughed. “Because you know that you’re right. I’ll make a deal with you. The day you can stand in front of me without fear and ulterior motive and explain the reasons why I cave so easily to him, I’ll personally hand you and your friends first class tickets to any place in the world you wish to go. Do we have a deal?”

  This time, Kennedy looked him in the eyes and even though she was clearly puzzled, she nodded anyway. “Fine, I guess I’ll go to bed now.” She scraped the chair across the floor, giving Asher the impression that she felt the conversation was a waste of time.

  Shaking his head, he pointed to the full garbage can. “Not until you get rid of that smell first.”

  “Asher,” she moaned to his retreating back, “do I really have to?”

  “Ulterior and motive, those were the operative words in the above sentence, girl,” he yelled back. “So yes, you do. Oh, and thanks for the day off.”

  At the sound of her loud grunt of protest, he climbed the servant’s stairs. Each excruciating step caused him to realize just how weary he was, both physically and mentally. Locking himself in his room, Asher stripped out of his wet clothes, pulled on his robe and crossed to the window to look outside. Snow was falling now, steady and fast. Asher hated Indiana weather. Even in March, when the dogwoods were budding and the green tips of tulips and daffodils were poking through the thawing ground, there was still the potential for frost, or worse, snow.

  There were no lights from an approaching vehicle, no one walking on the long drive. Nothing that told him his brother would be arriving home anytime soon and the thought bothered him. But then again, why should he worry when this night was no different than any other night when Ari had chosen to take advantage of his room at the Plaza Hotel.

  Asher’s eyes drifted upward to the black sky. He had based his whole life around the lunar calendar. Each phase of the moon affected shifters differently—this night as both Keeper and the wolf, the influence on him was great.

  Even when his magic was at its pinnacle, the dead moon still managed to clutter his mind and leave him vulnerable to his emotions. Yet, even in knowing this, he still found no peace. Convinced that something else was wrong, Asher pulled away from the window. He felt it in the magic that circled his body, a forewarning of the unexpected.

  ***

  Snow, heavy and thick, danced in the headlights and blew fiercely across the road. The wind buffeted the Nissan to the right. Even with windshield wipers on full blast, Ari Lake could no longer see the dividing line, but he hadn’t passed anyone for miles. Any other time with a snowstorm threatening, he would have stayed in his room at the Plaza. But of all nights, there would have to
be a prearranged Pillar Council meeting and one Ari, at least, considered being a matter of importance. He definitely considered it more significant than balancing dollars for corporate. Asher, however, hadn’t seen things that way.

  Running late, Ari pressed on the accelerator. In addition to running Lake Inc., he handled every facet of his brother’s affairs. Ari wondered if Asher truly knew the great burden he forced him to carry on a daily basis. His neglect of his people and his avoidance of his duties as Keeper was getting out of hand.

  Ari simply had to get to that meeting.

  Yawning from several sleepless nights, he leaned forward and pushed in his favorite Breaking Benjamin CD, believing the music would help him stay alert. The motor roared and the tires locked in protest as he turned sharply into a curve. He was going to be late for the meeting, but not that late. Had Asher actually picked up his phone, maybe then he wouldn’t have to hurry. Ari cursed and hit his fisted hand on the steering wheel. Who was he kidding? He knew his brother far too well. He knew exactly why Asher didn’t want the Pillar Council meeting to take place tonight.

  “Damn you, Asher, I bet you’re out there right now walking in this storm, chasing after Grant’s ghost. But I’m not going to worry about you. You’ve given me enough to worry about.”

  Ari could feel it in his bones though, an instinct for danger. Linn had managed to get in touch with him just as he was leaving the office. After talking with her, he was even more convinced that troubled was lurking. But, unless he could persuade Asher that there was a problem, he was powerless to help him. The car slid and Ari fought to stay on the road. He eased back on the pedal, breathing in a much relieved breath once it was over. Heck with the meeting, Ari thought. Why should he worry if Asher refused to listen?