Call of the Raven

by Shawn Reilly

  “Ari, I was just massaging your temples,” she paused. “What’s wrong? I heard Nixon slam his bedroom door. Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

  “No, not really, he just doesn’t want my help right now. But that’s not what’s bothering me. I really do think I’m losing my mind. Just now in the window I thought I saw something and after what Asher said upstairs—never mind you wouldn’t believe me,” he said. “I don’t even believe me.”

  “What…was in the window?” Kennedy insisted looking over her shoulder. She acted as though she didn’t know if she should be afraid or not.

  Ari returned to the bench but kept a reasonable distance. “I saw a wolf just now looking in the window,” he said. “He had glowing eyes and he…talked to me.”

  Kennedy all of a sudden spun back to him. “He talked…to you?”

  “Well, not necessarily talked, I heard a voice in my head.” Ari saw how Kennedy, thoughtfully, fingered the necklace she always wore, a blue jewel embezzled in silver. The habit seemed tantamount whenever she thought of Grant.

  “What did he say?” she asked.

  “Didn’t you hear me? I said I heard a voice in my head.”

  “When Nixon and I were taking the twins to Linn, a wolf suddenly appeared on the road and Linn drove right through it like it was some spirit wolf or something. Nixon didn’t see her drive through it and I didn’t tell him because I knew he wouldn’t believe me, just like you thought I wouldn’t believe you.” Kennedy scooted near him and whispered the last, “Ari what if the wolf is Grant.”

  Ari quickly stood again and walked to the center of the mat. His heart was racing and he wasn’t even sure why. “So, what are you trying to say Kennedy?”

  “What I’m trying to say is that when I saw the wolf my jewel got warm and started glowing. And just now it did the same thing when I was coming here to talk to you. Remember my dreams Ari?”

  Kennedy stood and crossed to him, holding her jewel up as she neared. “Grant use to come in my room and tell me stories. They were always about some little girl who was brave and stood up to her enemies. They were goofy and silly and I know Grant made them up as he went along but they were special to me. Well anyway, the night Grant was called, he left me this jewel. I think he wanted me to know that he would always be around. But what if this jewel is more than that, and somehow it lets me know when he is around?”

  Troubled and tired, Ari ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes. “My head is throbbing, I’ve been through a lot and I saw a wolf running away toward the trees. I’m sorry babe. It’s just a little hard for me to believe.”

  “Why, because you’re afraid that Asher might have been right all these years? He went out there again you know, looking for him.”

  Ari started to walk away but Kennedy caught his arm and stopped him from leaving. He didn’t turn around and Kennedy didn’t ask him to.

  “Asher’s crazy,” he said, “and he was that way long before Grant died. I love him but he’s not right, and I’ve known that ever since we were kids and his paranoia about dying caused him to believe the Council was out to get him. Sometimes, I would find him hiding in the closet, frightened and shaking.” Ari shook his head in a determined manner and then turned around and faced her. “Grant’s not alive. He can’t be.”

  “But why can’t he?” Kennedy persisted.

  “Because,” Ari jerked free, backing up as he talked, “that would mean he knew that he was leaving me to this mess, dealing with Asher, dealing with…with—”

  “Us!” Kennedy fumed. “Is that it? You’re upset because Grant left you with a looser brother that forced you to take care of us?”

  Ari slowly nodded. His emotions torn, caught in between denial and the truth, “It wasn’t my place to.”

  Before his words had time to fully register on her face, Ari spun around and hurried upstairs. Only when he was in his room, about to undress and climb in bed did he remember the journal. Returning downstairs, he soon realized there was no signs of life in the quiet house. The studio was dark, Kennedy had gone, and everyone was sleeping in their rooms.

  Crossing over the mat he kept his eyes trained on the bench refusing to look out the window for fear of seeing the glowing eyes staring back at him. Grabbing the journal from the bench he started across the floor when he noticed something fall from the pages, a picture.

  Bending over he picked it up and took it upstairs with the journal. Once locked inside his room, he crossed to the bed and lay down. Holding up the picture he studied the face of the blonde. She was pretty. Ari gave Grant credit for that. Turning the picture over he saw Grant’s perfect handwriting scrawled across the back. The words written however caused a strange fluttering in his heart. He had expected to see her name, or even the goofy heart with both their initials written inside, but instead was the words,

  Remember Ari, you promised!

  ***

  In a week’s time, Ari had the journal read and his duffel bag packed. He had no idea when he would be home. Still he paced, still he questioned his decisions. He often dreamed of a life apart from the one he had. Sometimes the thought of freedom was more than he could bear. Asher’s cruel treatment, his refusal to accept their bond had made things tough on him, but now the bond existed and Ari didn’t want it, at least not now. Break in or not, warning or not, how could he put ten years of misery behind him?

  How could he just turn the other cheek and forget all that Asher had done, and not done. The journal was lying on his nightstand next to the cup of coffee, long since gone cold. Kennedy had brought it up hours ago when she saw that his bedroom light was still on. Even after hurting her the way he had with his words, she still took care of him.

  Ari sighed and went to the window. How could he leave them behind? Without another thought, Ari retrieved the journal, and shoved it in the back pocket of his jeans. He had no choice, Asher had seen to that. The moon was full which meant Asher was fully rejuvenated, and Vince said he would keep an eye on things while he was gone, and Linn planned to look after the twins.

  Combing his bangs back with his fingers, Ari put on a Colt’s ball cap, a green army coat and tossed the duffle over his shoulder. He crossed the room, stopping only when he saw his reflection in the mirror. His face was wider, his jaw line more squared and his eyes were an amber-brown, and still the resemblance to his brother was remarkable.

  He was angry at Asher.

  He felt sorry for him, hated him…and yet he loved him just as much.

  Ari took the keys from the dresser top and a hand full of change, and slid everything into his pocket. The door clicked shut behind him and Ari turned to leave, but came to an abrupt stop when he noticed a shadowed form standing near the top of the stairs. Squinting in the dark he saw that it was only Nixon leaning against the banister. A closer look revealed Kennedy sitting on the top step with her head resting on her knees, looking about as tired as he felt.

  “Going somewhere Ari?” Nixon folded his arms across his chest.

  “Yes, and by the looks of it so are you.”

  Nixon picked up the bag at his feet and Kennedy did the same. He should have known that she would be there lurking, waiting for him to make his move. Kennedy had stopped him a few times before without even knowing it. Putting his arm around her waist they started walking down the stairs together, with Nixon walking behind them.

  “So, who’s gonna look after Asher?” Nixon inquired.

  Ari let out a long deep breath and turned his hat around so that it was on backward. “He’s taken care of himself for ten years. I think he’ll be all right. Linn is going to look after the twins until we return. Hopefully, we won’t be gone but a few days.”

  “Do you know where we’re going?” Kennedy asked.

  Ari took her hand to help her over the messy living room floor, and headed down the hall toward the attached garage. Other than restoring the kitchen to a place they could function the house was still in a state of disorder
. Asher seldom left his rooms upstairs, and the house had long ago stopped being a home to the three of them. Leaving it behind in any state wasn’t a problem. Ari had only one clue where to start his search and that was the records department at Lake Inc. He decided to change the subject.

  “How did you know I was going to leave?” he asked.

  “You’ve locked yourself in your room for days reading that journal,” Nixon said, “and according to Kennedy, you were either doing a lot of pacing back and forth or you were packing. My guess was packing.”

  Ari flipped on the garage light and glanced sideways at Nixon. He wasn’t being sarcastic nor was he joking. There actually was a great deal of concern in his eyes, and it was the same with Kennedy. “So, what you’re trying to say is that you both have been watching me.”

  “No, Kennedy’s been watching you. She’s just been keeping me posted.” Nixon grinned and then let it fade. His eyes took on a serious light. “Besides Ari, it’s no tossup between you and Asher. You’ve done far more for us than he ever has and your right, it wasn’t your place. You going missing like that, made me at least realize that.”

  “Then we’re okay then?” Ari grinned.

  “Oh, we’ll never be okay you wet smelling dog.”

  “Now that one will never get old, you dumb bird,” Ari laughed.

  “I already knew Ari was special.” Kennedy hugged his arm. Her soft touch moved along his forearm to his fingers, and then she took his pinky in hers, like she did when she was a little girl. The gesture made him feel even guiltier.

  “You’ve taken care of us Ari without complaint, until now,” she said. “It’s not fair that your life’s been robbed. We’re not mad at you, but you’re not leaving us behind either.”

  “Damn my brother…” Ari cursed under his breath. He took a deep breath, knowing they at least needed to know the truth. “Grant’s got a child out there, and I’m going to find him before the outcasts do. I just thought you two should know.” He was surprised by their lack of emotion.

  “We already know,” Nixon said, “and we also know that Asher knew and did nothing about it. That’s why you’re mad enough to leave him behind after everything that’s happened here lately.”

  “There’s no need to feel bad about that Ari because we understand.” Kennedy sadly nodded, and then turned toward the vehicles. “So, where do we start?”

  Ari’s car was at the body shop along with Nixon’s, which left, Kennedy’s little Mini Cooper, his Suzuki motorcycle bought on an impulsive whim to be reckless, and Grant’s four-wheel drive. Out of them all, Grant’s truck was the only logical choice. Ari stepped down off the step. He had left him the keys, but Nixon shook his head when he saw Ari heading in the trucks direction.

  “No one’s driven that since Grant,” he argued like it was some sacred temple or a room that was supposed to be kept in reverence. Ari took out the keys, dangled them at Nixon and simultaneously winked at Kennedy. They both knew the boy’s weakness.

  “Wanna drive?” Ari asked.

  Nixon’s mouth gaped open, but then a slow smile crossed his lips. The truck’s back tires were as huge as a tractors and the snow was begging to be challenged. He snatched the keys from Ari’s hands and went to the driver’s side, while Ari punched the garage door opener. A blast of cold wind caught him as the door slid upward to expose the arctic weather outside. Ari thought of the strange mage with the red glowing eyes. Whether Asher was right or not about the power drain, the fear that he displayed afterwards was evident.

  How could he just up and leave him?

  But Asher knew and chose to do nothing.

  All this time he chose to do nothing.

  “You can have the backseat to yourself,” Kennedy pulled Ari to the truck as though she knew he was struggling with his decision to leave. “I know you haven’t slept much. I’ll sit in the front to make sure Nixon doesn’t get too crazy.”

  “Now we all know that’s a lost cause,” Nixon chimed.

  Ari had kept the battery charged and the truck in good condition. In spite of how he treated Asher, part of him always felt like Grant would return to collect the truck. Part of him never felt like Grant had truly died.

  What a hypocrite he was.

  Ari climbed in and was just about to put on his seatbelt when, without warning, Nixon slammed the truck in reverse and barreled backward out of the garage. The truck came to a sudden complete stop and he was thrown forward into the back of Kennedy’s seat. Pulling himself off the floorboard, he caught the devious look on Nixon’s face.

  Stomping on the gas, Nixon slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and Ari flew back onto the seat. The truck bounced over the snowy unplowed drive and Nixon shouted like a cowboy riding a bucking bronco. Finding the seatbelt, Ari put it on before he could do something else foolish. Lying back Ari removed his ball cap, and rested his head on the headrest.

  “Well,” he mumbled, “at least it’s a four-wheel drive.”

  “Yeah baby and the snow is bitchin!” Nixon sang.

  Ari shook his head and catching movement in a second floor window, realized that it was Asher standing in the office window watching them leave.

  “I think it will become clear to you that you’ve had reason to hate me all these years.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The Fighter

  Reading to the kids in the ‘I Read’ book club gave Elle Ison a chance to break the monotony in her otherwise unpromising day. She was different around the kids. Around them, she could let her guard down. She could laugh and be herself and because she was good with them, no one ever asked to take her place. Elle turned the page and showed the wide eyed children the picture of the wolf. They seemed to especially like the stories about humans shifting or morphing into animals.

  Hatori Matasuto’s manga book series was their all-time favorite. The children called the shifters in his book ani-shifts. The little girl on the end seemed especially interested this day, even though she appeared to be much older than the other children gathered around on the alphabet patterned rug.

  The children tended to be the same group every Thursday. But Elle didn’t know this little girl. Being the central library in the heart of downtown Indianapolis there was a variety of ethnicity and socio-economic levels, from the affluent to the poor that utilized the libraries services. Elle had seen and witnessed many things. Still, she was quite positive that this particular little girl was the saddest, the most unusual and pathetic looking child she had ever beheld.

  The girl didn’t gasp in surprise like the others when the man in the book transformed into the wolf. She didn’t laugh or even tweak out the slightest of smiles when Elle talked in her baby voice, or made big booming noises to demonstrate the sounds a bear would make when walking through the woods. The children adored Elle, but this little girl looked at her with such strange questioning eyes. There was something forlorn about her, something that aged her beyond her childhood years.

  She was an exceptionally pretty child that much was true; near Hollywood appealing. But she was also very noticeably dirty, almost to the point of repugnance. Elle wasn’t the only one that noticed. The other children scooted away from her and every now and then, she had to ask them to stop whispering and making fun of the girl.

  Two pages from the end of the book, Elle noticed that the girl was crying and so did her boss, Francis, the head librarian. She had been warned about scaring the children. Elle knew that she sometimes got carried away in voice and actions, especially if she had a bad night with Julio. However, even if she was sporting a new bruise on her cheek, Elle was positive that it wasn’t her bitterness toward him that was coming out this time, and instead it had to be Anthony’s pig sounds.

  Still, she toned down and hurried along. Only when she uttered the ending words, did Elle look again to see if she was correct in her assumption. Yes, the little girl had been crying, but now the tears were nothing but smudges across her dirty cheeks. Francis was really frowning now. In a flu
rry of arriving parents and children embracing her in gratitude for the story, Elle lost track of the girl. When she did spot her again she was sitting alone at a table in the children’s section assembling a wooden puzzle, but Elle became distracted by Francis.

  “Miss Ison. I thought I told you to choose stories that wouldn’t upset or confuse the children. Why is that such a hard task?”

  “But the children like these stories and—” Elle stopped midsentence. She had felt the need countless other times to argue her point, but this day her words were mislaid for other grounds.

  A man suddenly appeared out of nowhere and squatted down next to the little girl. By mere reaction alone, Elle knew that the little girl did not know him. Anthony’s parents were divorced and only his mother or grandmother was allowed to pick him up. She also knew that Karen’s grandpa was newly released from jail and her mom feared he might try to contact her. Elle was supposed to make sure all the children were safely picked up by their parents—all of them, even dirty little girls that no one seemed to care about.

  “That little girl there, the one at the table,” she said to Francis, “do you know her name?”

  “Miss Ison, what have I told you about getting information on the children? We could be liable if something happened to one of them.”

  “I can’t get information if I’ve never seen them before,” Elle argued. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I just looked up and there she was sitting with the other children.”

  “Well,” Francis scoffed, “I find that hard to believe when she’s been here before among your group.” Francis didn’t believe her because she thought it was just another one of her excuses.

  Lately, Francis had been getting on her about being sloppy, but so what if she had put up a few books where they didn’t belong, or twice now she had failed to put the requested books on the proper hold shelves. If the work wasn’t done, Elle had no choice but to leave.