Raven (11 page)

I watched the grasses get thrown about like helpless victims, my heart breaking, and my eyes filling with tears. With my hand still on the handle, I turned and looked over my shoulder, looking at Edgar, showing him what I felt. He had forced me into this situation, purposefully made it harder on me. That was not an act of love, but an act of jealousy. I scowled, angry that he didn’t even bother to stand up to Nicholas, too weak to even resemble the strong man I had once known. I let a lone tear fall and then wiped my eyes to clear my vision. I saw Edgar blink a few times, hiding the fact he was hurt, but I did not care—it felt good to let him wallow.

With one last inhale, I turned back and twisted the handle, the door flying open on a gust of wind. I braced myself against the gusts as the chandelier in the hall filled the room with the sound of tinkling crystal. I quickly changed into a raven, using the loft in the windy air to my advantage. It would be a difficult ride from here to Seattle, but I had the strength of hatred fueling me, plus I needed the time to think.

As I took to the sky, I heard the door to the house slam behind me. I cut up and over the trees, following the same river that had brought me here two years ago. I watched as the blue grey water crashed below me, the rapids swollen with mud and debris. The dam of Lake Diablo loomed behind me, brimming with angered water and threatening to break. Adjusting the feathers on my wings like rudders, the wind carried me down the mountain. I blinked back the rain, streaming it to my feathers, now drenched and heavy. After a while of determined flight, the river finally spilled into the Puget Sound, the San Juan Islands speckling the enraged ocean below. I marveled at the color of the water, a deep turquoise as it churned like a whirlpool.

I tilted and followed the mouth of water south, keeping my eyes on the roughened shoreline. I flew over spent fields where tulips once thrived and rivers with swollen banks of mud that now engulfed the low-lying towns, leaving nothing but rooftops. Cows were gathered on hillsides that were surrounded by water, and as the country disappeared, I saw more and more cars littered across the roads, abandoned and gathered by the flash floods that had plagued the area.

I was shocked to see that it had gotten this bad—horrified by what had become of the place I had once called home. I had avoided it for so long, scared away by the memories and false existence I had lived here, lost and alone. I had avoided visiting my dear friends out of selfish fear, but I now ran to them, because I did not know where else to go and I did not know who else would even care.

Scott and Sarah had moved back to the city after the wedding, taking the money I had given them and investing in a small house on the hillsides of Seattle that was in one of the old neighborhoods. It was a place I was thankful they had invested in, high above the swelling waters and hopefully still safe from the wind.

Ahead, the port-side piers I had once visited every day came into view, but their docks were well under water, the roofs now peeking above the waves. I circled around the Space Needle, the blinking red light that once was so reliable now smothered out, the tip of it leaning as the whole structure began to sink into the sodden ground below. Long strips of black pavement were left cracked and barren, reminders of the structure that once existed here.

The city ahead was dark and abandoned. The once-busy streets were desolate as the air teemed with the sweet smell of wet cement. I circled back and over Lake Washington, the body of water that separated Seattle from the main land, connected only by two floating bridges that had blown away and sunk into the water.

Scott and Sarah had gotten a house that looked away from the Sound, on the protected side of the hill where the wind seemed calmer. They looked over Lake Washington, now resembling an ocean as the waves rose to twenty feet. I dove down, looking from house to house, trying to recall the color from the pictures they had sent me in the mail.

It was a small cream, Tudor-style home, with a round window over the door and a copper overhang. It was in need of remodeling, but it didn’t matter to them. They had a home and that was enough. When they’d gotten it, I remember wondering how much had been in that envelope from my foster mother and how it was that Heidi had managed to afford it. I was the only child she had ever loved like a daughter, and perhaps in that love, she had found family.

As payback, I had sent her something in return, packaging up one of my many Van Eyck paintings and having it delivered. She was the one that had taught me to live, to breathe again. She was the only one that had faith in me when no one else did. I knew Heidi would have never accepted her money back, so the priceless painting was the perfect answer. I should have never abandoned her as I had—it was selfish of me, and cruel. If she had loved me like family, then why had I thrown that love away when I knew it was something to value? The answer was clear, though. I needed to find myself in order to love again, and I had.

I felt guilt fill my heart. Why hadn’t I gone back? I wondered what she had thought of me and the painting. Had she wondered if I’d stolen it? Had she really worried about me like a mother would? I closed my eyes and shook my head, the rain splashing away and around me. When I opened them, there it was: the Tudor with the round window. It was facing the street directly below, right next to what looked like a park, or at least what used to be.

I dove down, leaving my guilt for Heidi behind and promising to see her in the end, when all was well. I aligned myself with the street and landed on the bare branches of a tree in their front yard. Looking to the windows, I saw a warm organic glow emanating from inside. I yearned to be near it, my wings trembling from the cold.

The tree below me slowly groaned and moved then, its bare branches curling toward me in desperation. With horror, I drew my attention away from the house and to the street. The neighboring trees had all been chopped down, leaving nothing but severed stumps. Following the sidewalk and down to the end of the street, I saw a pile of fire wood was stacked in the road.

What were they doing?
I asked myself. They were speeding up the process. I looked back at the house, seeing the warm glow flicker once more. It was then that I realized they had no choice. Could I blame them? The humans needed warmth to survive, the trees sacrificed in their attempt to stay warm. I blinked hard, trying to justify it but finding it hurt something deep inside. I felt the same way I did about the trees as I did human flesh, and to me, it was still murder.

The tree under my feet branched out toward me, running a tip through my feathers with affection. A tear fell from my eye and over my beak, landing on the sodden wood where it sprouted a young green leaf. The tree acted surprised, the branch shaking with what I hoped was joy. I let out a happy cry, but as the whole tree began to shake, I started to worry. I pulled my wings from my sides to balance myself, the tree rocking and twisting from side to side. It was then that the whole tree popped with life in a sudden display of color and light. Sprouts shot up between my talons and I found myself dodging away from them, the tips exploding with flowers and leaves, like tiny fireworks.

How, why?
My heart was racing, my wings tented on either side.
Was I stronger here?
This had never happened before, and never with such an abrupt reaction.

The front door to the Tudor swung open as the door slammed against the frame of the house. A figure wrapped in a plaid blanket ran out, halting as it saw me and then continuing forward. The wind howled around me as the figure stumbled up to the tree, their boots sliding on the dead wet leaves that coated the sidewalk.

“
Elle!” I heard my voice between gusts of wind, the figure’s mouth moving. They drew closer, pulling the blanket from their head, revealing the thinned face of Sarah.

I let out one sharp
caw
, letting go of the tree and diving to land on the ground before her. I slipped out of my changeling, standing before her as rain streamed down my numb face.

“
Elle!” she yelled again and ran to me, wrapping her arms around me like a vice.

“
Sarah, how are you?” I pressed my hand against her back, feeling that she had definitely grown thin.

She pulled me away from her. “Oh, you know. Doing the best we can.” She pointed over my shoulder and at the tree. “I saved it for you. I wouldn’t let them take it.” Her cheeks were rosy as she smiled.

I looked back at the tree, seeing now that it really was the only one left on the street. “Thank you, Sarah!” I was yelling over the wind.

She smiled, taking my arm and pulling me toward the house. “Come in. I’ll make you some hot water.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

I stepped up onto the porch as the door rapped against the siding, wind swirling freely into the house. As we crossed the threshold, the howling in my ears subsided, leaving them ringing. Scott stood to the left with blankets in hand as Sarah yanked the door shut with all her strength.

“
Here.” He shoved one toward me, wrapping it over my shoulders before also surrounding me in a hug.

“
Oh, Scott.” I pushed away, and looked him in the eyes. The gentle features of his face had fallen to sadness and fear, his eyes like empty shells. His hair was oily and unwashed, his clothes hanging loosely on his body.

“
Elle, what is this?” Scott asked, referencing the storm outside.

Sarah locked the dead bolt with a heavy clank. “What’s happening?” She chimed in.

I sighed. “I’ll explain, but first, how are you?” My main concern at this point was them. “You look—” I thought of the right thing to say, but found none. In the woods, food was still somewhat available, especially when Edgar and Sam didn’t eat. In the city, however, panic had set in, and all attempts to remain productive, seemed to have failed.

“
We’re surviving. We’ve rationed a lot, and it seems we’ll last about another few weeks. After that, though, I don’t know what we’ll do.” I saw him try to smile, making light of the situation. “Heck of a way to go on a diet.” He tried to laugh then, but I didn’t find it funny. “How’s Edgar?” He changed the subject.

“
Edgar’s fine.” There was contempt in my voice and I was certain they had heard it.

“
Are you hungry?” Sarah asked as she laid the wet blanket over the banister of the stairway in the hall.

“
Oh—no. You keep that for yourselves. I’m quite all right.” In truth I was hungry, but so were they. I would deal.

They led me to the left toward the source of the light and warmth I had seen outside. I saw the fire, trying to ignore what burned there. The fire back home was charmed with never ending logs that never burned out, much like the candles on the wall.

“
Here, sit.” Scott motioned me to a couch by the fire, the crackling wood causing the hairs on my arms to rise.

I sat and Sarah handed me a steaming mug of water. “I apologize if it tastes a bit off. It’s from the lake. So we boil it here.” She showed me a pot that was hanging over the fire. “Much like your place, right?” She smiled, seeing the upside of all this.

I laughed uneasily. “Yes, I suppose.”

I slowly took in the room, seeing that it did indeed need some love and attention. Wallpaper was peeling from the walls and the wood framing was dented and old. Every painted surface was crackling apart, begging to be sanded. The fireplace was nice and made of a heavy stone, certainly something that had come in handy.

I stopped inspecting the space, knowing that now was hardly the time to even think of remodeling. The thought of it alone made the blackness in my soul flicker back to me as it once had. If I stayed in a positive mindset, I could do as Nicholas demanded. I needed to keep looking forward, not back.

They both watched me with anxious eyes, waiting for me to speak.

Sarah opened her mouth, but then shut it. She looked perplexed, if not a little nervous. She shifted in her seat, her back straight. She blinked a few times and then opened her mouth once more. “So, what’s happening?” This was the third time now that they had asked, and I didn’t blame them. They were frightened.

I took a sip of the water, holding it in my mouth as the musty flavor of it made me want to gag. I forced it down my throat with one loud gulp. “Yes—” My voice cracked in disgust. “Yes. It’s dying.”

“
The Earth?” Sarah screeched. She cut right to the point.

I nodded.

“
I knew it. Didn’t I tell you? I was right.” Sarah pointed at Scott. “And you thought it was some weird weather pattern that would pass.”

Scott glanced at me, embarrassed. “Er, I—I didn’t say that.” I saw him try to discreetly glare at Sarah, but I caught it.

“
It’s dying, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.” I paused. “Or rather, there’s nothing
you
can do.” I said the last bit under my breath.

Sarah perked up. “But you
can.
You can save us, right?”

I sank into the seat, holding the warm cup between my hands but refusing to take another sip. “I guess. It’s just—”

“
Just what? You have to stop this. Why even falter?” Scott looked frantic and scared.

“
It’s not that I’m faltering, Scott.” I looked at Sarah. “It’s just that I only just found out. I’m still letting the whole idea sink in.”