A round bench painted in a deep forest green had been built in the center of the sanctuary around the oak tree.
I’m surprised it’s not completely covered in bird poop
, I thought with a half smile as I settled on the bench to take the amazing place in. Wow, it truly was something.
As I sat there, a couple of ravens flew out of the sanctuary, but then a few minutes later, they swooped back in, followed by a whole slew of new birds. I lost track once I’d counted thirty.
Did Mr. Holtzman really study this many birds at once?
I only counted about five boxes in the trees. Did the rest nest outside? How did he keep track of them all?
The ravens had grown so loud, I could barely think. While the birds inside the enclosure settled on the tree branches and let out deep, reverberating
groaks
and
raack
noises, more and more ravens flooded in until every tree branch space was covered.
I stared at them, watching them watching me. And they
were
watching me. It was unnerving, yet comforting too when I thought about Patch’s actions earlier. What would Patch think of this huge “unkindness”? I didn’t particularity like the official term that described a group of ravens. Considering Patch’s antics, “unpredictable” would be more appropriate, I thought with a smirk.
I’d never seen so many birds at once. Except for in my dream where I’d seen them swirling around Ethan in a rushing tornado of black wings while I confronted Fate.
A few ravens flew down from their perches, landing ten feet away. When I didn’t move, another group fluttered down to settle near the first set. Then another set and another set. I wanted to take a picture, because I didn’t think anyone would believe me if I told them of the strange phenomenon happening right before my eyes.
Instead, I gripped my phone and stared at the forest floor covered in a sea of black-feathered birds. Would they scatter if I stood? There was only one way to find out. Slowly and with as little movement as possible, I stood up.
The birds closest to me hopped back a little, but they didn’t fly away as I expected they would. As I turned in a tight circle to take all the birds in, I realized that I wasn’t hearing several sounds anymore…only one. All the ravens had synced into a croaking sound that came from deep within their throats.
My hand trembled as I dialed Ethan’s number.
Please answer, Ethan!
I exhaled a pent-up breath when he picked up on the second ring. “I was just thinking about you,” he started to say, then paused, “Where are you? What’s that noise?”
“Hold on a sec.” I held up my hand in a fast motion, expecting the birds to scatter. Instead, they lowered their sounds several octaves. “Tell me how much you miss me,” I said in an awed voice.
“Are you okay?” He sounded tense. “Do you need me to come home?”
I closed my eyes, picturing his face in my mind’s eye. Brackets would be around his mouth right now. “Do this for me, please.”
“I ache everywhere when I think of you.” His voice sounded deeper as if he’d pressed the phone closer to his mouth. “It’s not right that you make me feel so much,” he continued, sounding almost embarrassed to admit the second part.
My throat knotted until all I could do was rasp, “Oh, Ethan…”
“I miss holding you close and smelling your sunshine,” he continued.
The ravens had gone completely silent, the absence of noise deafening. I stared at them, then gripped my phone tighter. “If you want to share with me, close your eyes,” I whispered.
“What?”
“Just close your eyes.”
A husky sigh sounded across the line. “Closed.”
I exhaled a steadying breath. “Pretend you’re standing right here with me. Now, pull me close. Don’t speak…just imagine and feel.”
When I finished speaking, I closed my eyes and imagined Ethan standing right in front of me, his broad shoulders blocking out the light as he skimmed his fingers along my cheek.
Air brushed my cheek and I heard the whoosh of wings. Ethan’s warmth enveloped my arms and back as if he’d just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. Giddy, I kept my eyes closed tight, not wanting to break the spell. “What do you feel?” I asked.
He inhaled deeply. “I smell...sun after a spring rain and shampoo. I smell you, Sunshine,” he murmured in disbelief. “How is this possible?”
Soft wings brushed my arms, my face, my back. Ever so slowly, I lifted my hand and let the passing wings bat against it.
Ethan sucked in his breath. “Did you just touch me?”
I smiled, tears of happiness trickling down my cheeks. “In my own way.”
“How are you doing this, Nara?” he asked, astonishment roughening his tone.
“I’m not. You are.”
When Ethan snorted and said, “I’m not doing this,” I opened my eyes to see the tornado of ravens who’d been flying around me begin to disperse, a few birds at a time.
I sighed, sad to lose the intimate connection. “I’m at a raven sanctuary. When you thought of me just now, they encircled me just like they did you in my dream when I faced off with Fate.”
“I had no idea…” Ethan seemed surprised, but not shocked like I expected him to be. “Why are you there, Nara?”
“I’m researching.” I watched a mass exodus of ravens leave the enclosure, while only a dozen or so returned to the trees. Once they’d settled on their perches above me, the ravens reverted to their random
groooaks
and
raaack
sounds. I smiled, invigorated by the fantastical experience and spoke quietly into my receiver, “You believe me now, don’t you? About your connection to ravens?”
“I had no idea it went so deep.” He sounded mystified. I pictured him jamming his hand through his hair while he tried to process what had just happened. “Nara,” he began, then paused for a second. “You need to let me do this on my own.”
I wasn’t sure how to take his comment. I didn’t think he was trying to discount what had just happened between us, but it felt worse in a way, like he was shutting me out. Ethan had no idea how much time I’d put into his raven journal. How much all the research I had done had helped me stay connected to him during his absence. And now it was gone.
Just as I bit my trembling lip, I glanced up and my gaze locked on a thin old man with a stock of white hair and a neatly trimmed white beard standing at the sanctuary’s entrance.
Wearing a flannel-lined jean jacket, worn jeans, and construction boots with climbing spikes strapped to the soles, he gripped the frame around the doorway in a tight hold and stared at me with amazement in his blue eyes. “In fifty years of studying ravens I’ve never seen anything like that!”
Oh boy, I didn’t realize he’d seen it. Then again, the enclosure’s “walls” were chicken wire.
“Hi, Mr. Holtzman,” I spoke in a cheerful voice, then said to Ethan in a rush of words, “Um, I need to go for now.”
“Do you understand, Nara? I have to do this on my own—” Ethan began, urgency in his tone.
“I’ll call you tonight,” I interrupted, smiling apologetically at Mr. Holtzman. Keeping this surprise from Ethan was causing me more pain and heartache than I ever thought it would.
A grunt of frustration rushed in my ear. “My dad’s packing the car now. We’re going cross-country skiing through Wednesday or possibly Thursday night. I’ll call you when I get back. Please, stay safe!”
I wanted to ask him when he was coming back to Virginia. We really needed some time together, but now wasn’t the time. I’d ask him when he called. “I will. Talk to you then,” I said, and hung up.
As soon as I tucked my phone away in my pocket, Mr. Holtzman held up a bony finger. “I have to show you something.” Excitement lit his eyes and he started to turn away, then glanced back at me. “Come on!” he said, beckoning as if he expected me to vanish into thin air.
Relieved he didn’t ask any questions about the raven cyclone he’d just witnessed, I started toward the entrance of the enclosure, holding up my notepad and pen. “I’m coming. I need to interview you.”
“All in good time,” he called over his shoulder as he scurried back down the hill.
I followed, leaving the ravens behind. Or at least I thought I had. When I looked up, several of them were flitting from treetop to treetop, tracing my path as I made my way down toward the house.
As soon as I exited the woods and stepped into the small backyard, the ravens stayed in the trees, squawking amongst themselves. I’d never heard such a wide range of sounds all at once. I shook my head and smiled as I took the couple of steps up onto the back deck, then followed Mr. Holtzman through his sliding glass door.
His house had a heartwarming smell that chased away the chill, a mixture of spicy chili powder and smoked wood.
“Sit by the fire and get warm,” he insisted, brushing newspapers off the old couch near a stone fireplace.
I sat on the edge of the faded leather couch, and he turned to add a couple of new logs before he stoked the fire. Once the flames leapt to life and the wood began to crackle, he turned to me, rubbing his hands together. “Would you like some chili? I’m making some for dinner.”
I smiled and shook my head. “It smells great, but no thank you. I’m eating dinner with my mom later. Her spaghetti dinners are pretty rare. You mentioned that you wanted to show me something?”
His bushy gray eyebrows pulled together as he nodded his understanding. “Yes, yes. Okay, let me find it,” he said, clapping his hands as he walked toward the far wall opposite the couch.
Tall bookshelves had been built into the wall. They reached from the ceiling to the floor, the shelving packed with books and magazines. I could tell by the sticky notes peeking out of the tops of a lot of them, they were all research books.
Were they all on ravens? Fascinating!
While Mr. Holtzman began to shuffle through his books, I made my way over to the shelving. I scanned the titles: magazines on birds, books on crows, ravens and various other members of the same bird family filled the shelves.
“I’ve never seen such a collection,” I said, my voice full of awe.
Book in hand, he glanced my way, his beard enhancing his broad smile. “It’s amazing what you can collect over an entire lifetime, Inara. What is your school project’s focus?”
I smiled. “Call me Nara.”
He nodded as he placed the book back, then pulled another one out. “Only if you call me Freddie.”
“Deal. My project is just about the history of ravens. I figured that if I was going to study the raven, I should understand the bird itself a little better, which is why I wanted to interview you.” I turned back to the books and my gaze caught on a title,
Statues From All Over the World
. “Do you have any books on swords?”
“Swords?”
He had a different book in his hand when I glanced at him. I pointed to the title straight in front of me. “You have a book about statues.” I lifted my shoulders. “Why not swords?”
“I’ve seen ravens featured on shields, coat of arms, flags and such throughout history.” He paused as if sifting through his memory, but shook his head. “But not on a sword. Come to think of it, considering ravens have been featured on all the other items I’ve mentioned, it’s interesting that I’ve never seen one on a sword.”
“Maybe because a bear, a lion, or a wolf seemed more intimidating?” I tried not to let my disappointment show as I slid a finger along the books’ titles, studying them. “What about tattoos?”
He chuckled. “Thinking of getting a raven tattoo?”
I pulled down a book about raven mythology and flipped through it. “Ever seen a sword tattoo featuring a raven?” I asked casually as I kept my gaze locked on the pages.
“You’re a lot like your grandmother, you know.”
When I cut my gaze to him, he had a fond look in his bright blue eyes. “She had a knack for reading people, but kept her own pages very close to her chest.”
His insight about my grandmother warmed my heart. “I heard she was a great judge of character.”
He straightened his shoulders and tilted his chin up as he held a dark blue book against the buttons on his shirt. “And what do you see about my character?”
I said the first thought that came into my head. “You’re incredibly dedicated.”
He winked, then touched his nose, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Spot on! Come,” he said, turning back toward his living room area.
He clutched the hardback book close and gestured for me to sit. As I sat down on the couch once more, he settled on an old military trunk that doubled as a coffee table across from me, then he carefully set the book in my hands. “As soon as I saw the ravens spinning around you, I knew. You’re the one I’m supposed to give this to.”
Taken by surprise by Freddie’s revelation, I stared at the midnight blue book in my hands with its gold-edged pages and filigree brass book corners framing the front and back. It even had brass half moon-shaped end caps on the top and bottom of the spine. The author’s name took up most of the spine in fancy gold lettering, with the exception of a Celtic trinity-style symbol stamped at the bottom of the spine. The gold-embossed title on the front of the book simply read
Ravens
.
By the reverent way he handled the book, it was obvious he treasured it. Why would he want to give it to me?
Chapter Sixteen
“Unique cover,” I murmured as I opened the inch-thick book and flipped through the pages. It was about ravens: the rearing, feeding, and general care of the Corvus corax. The book discussed ravens from birth to death, their culture, their quirks, their intelligence. It had been written by a man who, like Freddie, had studied the birds all his life. I found it interesting, but as I flipped through, I didn’t see anything in it that I hadn’t already seen in other works. Apparently the author’s publisher thought it spectacular, considering the cover’s fancy presentation, I thought with an inward smile.
When I shut the book, he said, “Well?”
I could tell he was expecting something monumental once I’d finished looking through the book, or at the very least, he was waiting for me to say something profound. I felt like a fraud. “Thank you for letting me look at it, but I don’t understand…” I began as I held it out to him. “Why do you want to give it to me?”