by Jen Pretty
"We have to go back," I said.
Crow let out a loud caw that sent a ring through my ears, then he vanished, poof.
"What?" Falcor asked, fully awake now.
"It's time to go home."
He rubbed his eyes and nodded. "I thought you might feel that way. I booked a flight from Ottawa."
I nodded. “Can you get us all there?"
"To Ottawa, yeah. You might even like the place I have to stop."
I had never seen the Canadian capital, so I was looking forward to it as I got up and pulled on a clean sweater. I was going to need the hottest shower by the time I got home. My jeans were creased and had dug into my hip, but they would do.
I looked over the railing and found Pete smiling up at me. "Drop your bag down," he said.
I dropped it, then he moved from the bottom of the ladder and let me climb down.
"I just started some water for coffee. They only have instant."
I crinkled my nose, and Pete chuckled.
"Did you find anything else in the books?" I asked as I collapsed on the couch beside Oban.
He glanced up. "Most of these are in a foreign language, but I did find this." He held up a book he had bookmarked and passed it to me. "The second paragraph on the page."
I scanned down and found what he was talking about.
"The crow and the chosen one will come together in the darkest days and fight as one being. Neither crow nor human, their power will mix, and they will become more than the sum of their parts."
Oban nodded. "It goes on to talk about fighting evil, but it’s more of a journal than anything else. The man who wrote it had a pretty remarkable life. He never references the crow again. But had a lot of advice for witches and warlocks."
"That’s great," I said. "Did you find it useful?"
Oban nodded, but I didn't miss the way he glanced at the vampires. I could tell he was still wary of them, but I hoped it wouldn't become an issue.
Falcor shifted down to the space between the couch and the fireplace, his packed luggage in hand except for a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie.
"I don't have much that will fit you," he said to Oban. "But these should be fine until we can get you some clothes that fit you." Oban was still wearing his civil war uniform. He would stick out in those clothes even without the gun at his hip.
“What about my father?” Oban asked. “He is meeting us here, isn’t he?”
“I contacted him last night too. He will meet us at the airport,” Falcor assured him.
Oban rose and took the clothes. "Thank you." He glanced around like he was looking for a place to change.
"You can change in the loft if you like. We won’t look."
Oban nodded and then took the ladder with the clothes slung over his shoulder.
While he changed, we tidied up the space, so we didn't leave it in a mess. We also put out the fire with the rest of the water from the disgusting coffee that Pete made. It wasn't his fault; instant coffee was just unacceptable on every level.
When Oban rejoined us, he looked like a typical teenager from the current generation, instead of a fighter from 60 years ago. He also looked much younger.
"I'll take Henry first and come back for the two of you," Falcor said, his eyes lingering on Oban and me before he grabbed the hulking vampire and disappeared.
That was the exact moment that Oban struck. He raised his hand at the same time he screamed a series of words that I had never heard.
"Stop!" I screamed, but it was too late. Pete dropped to the floor and writhed in agony.
"We can run now!" he said. "Come on!"
"What are you talking about?" I yelled, yanking my hand out of his.
Crow leapt from his perch and screamed, just causing more confusion than anything. So helpful.
Oban grabbed my wrist again. "I'll save you, your Highness!"
"Stop!" I yelled again. "He is a friend! Stop this!"
Pete's yells continued, but there was no way he could get to his feet.
"Please!" Oban pleaded. "We have to hurry. He's too strong for us!"
"Oban, listen! I told you, he is a guard. He's here to help us."
"You can't trust vampires. They are bloodthirsty monsters."
I shook my head and let my magic flow out around the room. Oban froze at the sight of it. I let my power touch the spell that was hurting Pete and then unwind the magic and snap the spell that Oban had used.
Pete lay on the ground for half a second, then he was up, his fangs extended and a look of pure evil on his face.
"See!" Oban said. "We have to go!"
Thankfully Falcor appeared between Pete and me at that moment. He blocked our view of the vampires, his back to us.
"What the fuck, Pete?" Falcor said in a sharp voice.
"Your twerp brother hit me with a spell. As king, I expect you to punish him!"
"King?" Oban gasped.
Falcor swung back around to face Pete. "This is family business." He slapped his hand down on Pete's shoulder and shifted away, leaving Oban and me alone.
"Vampires are our allies and friends now," I scolded. "You'll see when we get back to Sanctuary. You shouldn't have done that to Pete."
"My brother is King?" he asked, still stunned, and not taking my tongue lashing with the kind of regret I would have liked him to.
"Excuse me, can you focus, please?" I asked. "I said, don't hurt the vampires!" The last bit came out a bit lower, with the echoey tone that suggested something 'other' was projecting through me. That got his attention.
His eyes whipped up to mine and then immediately dropped to the floor. He dropped just as fast, his knees hitting the ground with a thunk.
"I'm sorry, please don't kill me!"
I would like to know how this kid got the impression that I was going to kill him. That was twice now he had overreacted to me. But it fit the crime, so I wasn't going to try and persuade him not to be afraid. He couldn't go around hurting vampires. Not the innocent ones anyway.
I let him stay there on the floor for a minute, just long enough for Falcor to pop back in and grin at the sight of Oban grovelling at my feet.
"I hope you've learned your lesson," he said. His voice had gone back to the haughty, annoying version that he had tossed at me when we first met. But he was struggling to hide a grin. It wasn't a funny situation. We didn't need more tension between the vampires and warlocks. I shook my head at him.
"Get up, Oban," I said.
He jumped to his feet but kept his eyes on the floor. "I'm sorry. But they can control your mind. I was just trying to save you."
"They can't control my mind," I argued. "Where did you get that from?"
He peeked up at me, his eyes flashing from beneath his mop of hair. "We were told..." he looked over at Falcor. "They can do all kinds of wicked things."
It was possible that back in the Civil War era, many myths were floating around. The two factions didn't speak to each other. They just fought and killed each other. "You have wrong information," I said. Then I looked up at Falcor. "Do you think it's safe to take him to the Sanctuary?"
Falcor waited a moment, staring at his brother. "I think he will have to learn if he doesn't want to go back to that book."
"Please! I promise, I won’t do it again," he said, his head up now and clear fear in his eyes.
"Very well, but I'll just hang on to this." Falcor waved the book he had pulled his brother out of in the air, a clear threat.
Oban nodded.
"Great, can we go now?" I asked. We had really important things to get to, like finding my blade and saving the whole world from being overrun with the dead.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
We didn't stop for sightseeing. Instead, we whipped through the city directly to the airport, and I barely saw more than a few normal-looking buildings and a kinda neat bridge.
A familiar face appeared through the crowd at the airport, my magic wanting to spill out to meet up with him. I hadn’t seen Edva
rd in months. But he looked well. Fit, as if he had been working out.
Oban shoved past us and ran at the man walking toward us. Edvard’s smile flashed with recognition, and then they were embracing in the middle of the airport like any family reuniting. The only difference was that these two hadn’t seen each other in hundreds of years.
Their hug ran on, longer than expected, and I saw the tears glistening on Edvard’s face. When they stepped apart, it wasn’t far, and Edvard’s hands still gripped the boy’s upper arms as if he were afraid to let him go.
“I can’t believe you’re alive,” Edvard said, finally letting go of Oban so he could wipe his face. His eyes lifted to mine and then skittered to Falcor’s. He pulled Oban along with him as he embraced his nephew as well. It was one of the most touching moments I had witnessed.
“We have to get Selena back to the Sanctuary,” Falcor said after Edvard released him.
“Of course, I got a ticket,” Edvard said.
“You’re coming too?” Oban asked.
“I quit my job. I’m going to move back to my family.” Edvard had one hand on Oban’s shoulder and one on Falcor’s. There was no doubting the family resemblance when they stood side by side.
I saw Falcor fighting back the tears too. He had been closer to his uncle when he was younger. I was glad he could finally resurrect that relationship, particularly when he needed it most.
Once we were on the plane, I just wanted to sleep, but Oban got so excited about the flight that he was a non-stop chatterbox. Falcor had to fake Oban a passport, but the way the kid was talking was enough to let anyone know he wasn't quite right, so keeping his voice down was a full-time job.
"Did you know I once saw an airship?"
"An airship?" I asked.
"Yes. It floated over a parade in the capital. It was huge."
I just grinned and nodded at him. He was talking about a dirigible, I realized. Thankfully, he seemed to be taking the changes to the world in stride. The crowd in the airport didn't seem to cause him any concerns, and he mostly kept his mouth shut as we went through security. He didn't have luggage, but I checked one of our bags in his name so he wouldn't flag anything weird.
Thankfully, Falcor took on the role of keeping Oban's voice low, and I was able to tip my head back and close my eyes. The sound of them speaking and being on the plane had a soothing effect, and even though I wasn't tired, I nodded off before I could stop it.
***
I was standing in a field of clover, the sweet smell ticking my nose.
"Why have you come?"
I spun around to face the owner of the voice, but I didn't recognize the woman standing before me right away. It had been nearly a year since Nick took me to a graveyard, and I met the previous Black Crow named Katherine. Her white hair shifted in the breeze like it was a living thing.
I was about to say I didn't mean to come to see her, but Crow called out from above, catching my attention as he dropped from the sky to land on her shoulder. I was suddenly jealous again as her hand came up to ruffle Crow’s feathers. She touched him so easily. I knew it was because she was already dead and gone. I had figured it out when I had stabbed myself in the heart, and Crow let me touch him. But that hadn't been permanent for me.
"I'm sorry," I said, realizing I was just standing there staring at her. "I didn't mean to come here."
Katherine looked at Crow and gave him a curious look. "What are you up to, silly bird?" Her eyes flicked back to me. "You've lost something important," she said.
"A witch stole my knife. I guess she's trying to kill me and my sister, Slate, so she can bring the dead back. It's a shit-show."
Her lip quirked. "You've changed since the last time I saw you." It wasn't a question, so I didn't respond. I had changed. But who wouldn't in my situation?
"Alright, well, I can't fix this for you. But there is an old story I will tell you."
She settled down in the soft grass, and I followed her lead, sitting facing her. The sun warmed my skin, and if I didn't know I was sleeping on an airplane, I would have thought it was real.
"At the beginning of the earth, a pair of brothers roamed together. Their lives were bountiful, and they ruled the earth, above and below together.
One brother 'Der' took a wife. She was not only beautiful; she carried the power to change ash to gold and could spark a fire in water.
"She was a witch?" I asked
"Perhaps. But Der's brother, Ren, became jealous. He wanted that power for himself. He became so ruined by his greed and envy that he turned dark. His eyes glowing red, and he drank the blood of humans to feed the corrupt corpse of the man he used to be. His brother had more joy with every passing year as his wife bore him beautiful children who had as much power as her. Their light outshone anything Ren could create, and he became angry.
"Finally, he grew so enraged, he crept into his brother’s home and slaughtered his children and his wife, sending them to the world below without Der. Ren thought this would return his brother to his rightful place at his side, but instead, it turned his brother into a beast. The beast became bloodthirsty and chased Ren throughout the world for generations. Until one day, they both vanished."
"Some say that Der caught Ren and sent him to the underworld before killing himself and following. Others say they still run to this day. But either way, Der never forgave his brother for killing his family, and Ren never got back what he thought he had lost."
I sat and considered that for a moment, but Katherine wasn’t finished.
"So, the brothers still control the underworld and this one?"
"No, that gift was passed to the crow." Her hand continued to stroke Crow, who had settled in her lap, his eyes closing in pleasure as the woman’s soft hands threaded through his silky feathers.
"Why did you tell me this?"
"Because you have been looking for answers for a long time. Answers to questions you only ask in your head. Why are you here? What is your purpose? Why are you who you are?"
"I'm here because a man murdered his brother’s family?"
She smiled kindly. "No, Selena, you are here to right a wrong that many of us have tried and failed to right for many generations. Until the brothers are united again, there will always be a need for a Black Crow."
"Oh shit."
"Exactly," she replied with a soft laugh.
"Now, you better get back. I think your flight is landing, and you are upsetting your warlock."
I would have loved to stay and talk to Katherine all day, but I knew she was right. I could faintly hear Falcor's frantic whispers. "Thank you."
***
"Thank shit," Falcor whispered. "The flight attendant was going to call an ambulance to meet us at the airport if you hadn't woken." He waved at the flight attendant then gave her a thumbs up and a smile.
I looked around, feeling more tired than when I had fallen asleep. "Sorry," I said, rubbing my face to try and make myself wake up fully.
The plane was on its final descent. I glanced at Oban, who was eagerly staring out the window but was no longer talking in a stream of conversation.
"Yeah, alright. I presume you weren't sleeping anyway."
"No, and have I got a story for you. Let's get back to the Sanctuary, though, first."
Falcor nodded and turned to glance out the window. Oban was glued to the window, blocking nearly the whole thing, but I could see past him enough to see the ground rising to meet our plane. We bumped the ground and bounced a bit, the tires making a bit of noise on the pavement. Oban looked back at us, his grin bigger than anything I had ever seen.
"I want to fly a plane," he announced.
I smiled. "Study hard. Maybe you’ll become a pilot."
"I will!" Then he sat back with a dreamy look on his face, and Falcor and I shared a secret smile. Maybe it wasn't such a terrible thing his mother did if it meant he could fly a plane.
We finally got off the plane and made our way through the airport that was like
a second home to me now. Henry led the way, with Pete taking up the rear. I guessed he didn't want to keep Oban out of his line of sight, and I couldn't blame him. It took a lot to take down a vampire, and Oban had done it without much effort.
"Do you think he is stronger than we think?" I asked Falcor.
"He is," Edvard said from behind us.
I glanced back at him.
"I agree," Falcor added. "My mother was very powerful."
"Are you talking about me?" Oban asked.
"Eavesdropping?" I asked him. He blushed but didn't look away.
"Yes, we are talking about you, Oban," Falcor said. "You’ll have to be careful out in the world, away from the Sanctuary, around witches and warlocks. They won’t like you having so much power."
Oban looked confused as Henry unlocked the doors to the SUV we had left in the parking lot when we flew out. We all climbed in, and then Falcor continued.
"The witches and warlocks don't like young people to have so much power. You’ll probably be able to do some spells in the Sanctuary, which will be significant to anyone who notices."
"Why?" he asked. I clicked on his seatbelt for him. He was still not used to them yet.
"Because children of normal ability can't do magic inside the school except for in specific places and under the guidance of teachers."
"Nobody can?" he seemed surprised.
"Not nobody. My younger brother can do magic there. But he is special."
"Is he a warlock?"
I shrugged because he wasn't quite a warlock. "He's a necromancer." I settled on. He was mostly a necromancer. Though he couldn't see my invisible hoard, which had doubled in size since I had left. They floated along behind the car and on either side. They kept pace with us as we wove through town and followed the streets until the gates of the Sanctuary, where they all stopped.
"Wow," Oban said as we passed through the gates. He held out his hand, and a small spark of magic spun out of his hand in a thread that matched Falcor's. It was small and fizzled out quickly. But he was able to continue to make it over and over as we climbed the long driveway up to the squat wide building that housed the children of both supernatural varieties.