Raven

by Shelly Pratt

  “So what do you want, Aiyana – I trust this isn’t a social visit?”

  “No its not,” she replied.

  “Well it must be something pretty important for you to drag your arse all the way here to see me after all this time,” her sister spat.

  “I want to ask you about the new race of people,” she said simply.

  No point beating about the bush she thought. Her sister’s face darkened about the newly introduced topic and it looked like she had suddenly drawn the curtains on the hospitality she had just displayed and gone home unannounced.

  “I’m not going to talk about that,” her sister said flatly.

  “Why not?” she replied obstinately.

  “Because what’s done is done,” she shot back.

  “What does that even mean?” Aiyana replied.

  “Have you actually asked yourself what you are even expecting to change with this information?” Cybele asked her.

  Aiyana pondered this statement for a minute. To be honest, she hadn’t. All she knew was that she just wanted to know more about Eilam, and seems he wasn’t willing to tell her, then she was hoping to get the answers out of the last person she knew that might be able to shed some light on the whole situation.

  “I thought not,” spat her sister, clearly reading her thought process as she came to the same conclusion.

  “Please, Cybele, just tell me what you know,” she pleaded. Her sister looked her over for a minute, before deciding that in order to actually get rid of her this evening she was going to have to divulge a little of what she knew.

  “Oh fine, look their race is a dark breed of people and it was no accident that they came to be here and they mustn’t be trusted under any circumstances. They’re probably responsible for more than ninety per cent of the deaths in this town, and by god, if you ever recognised a person as being one of them, you’d damn well better run for your life kiddo, or you’ll end up just like mum and dad,” she said with certainty.

  “Are you saying they had something to do with mum and dad’s deaths?” she asked in disbelief. Her sister considered this for a moment before replying.

  “You were probably too young to remember the events that surrounded their deaths, but the official autopsy report concluded that they had committed suicide,” she said.

  “And you don’t think this was the case?” she prompted.

  “Look, I was five years older than you at the time – I heard things. You don’t really think that mum and dad would have committed suicide do you? I mean really, two people who were so in love with each other just suddenly jump off a thirty story building to their deaths when they have two children to live for? It just didn’t seem right to me,” Cybele said matter-of-factly.

  “You think they were murdered?” Aiyana said, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  Her sister shrugged, “What other explanation would one come to? Anyway, why do you ask?” she added as an afterthought.

  Aiyana paused a moment. She didn’t know how much of the whole situation she should actually divulge to Cybele, she already seemed kind of on edge about the whole topic of the new race.

  “I met someone. I think one of them,” she said hesitantly. Her eyes left her drink then, and found her sister’s face. The dark stare her sister gave her sent chills down her spine, making her feel like she had intruded too much on a truth that had lay hidden for the last decade.

  “Let me give you a piece of advice sis. From my experience, if any of those half breeds come looking for you, they’ll be only wanting one thing from you, and trust me, you don’t want to be giving them it,” she said mysteriously.

  “What does that even mean?” she pleaded.

  “There was a police officer who was on duty the night of mum and dad’s death. I bumped into him one day after the funeral and he kind of intimated that even though the coroner had ruled out foul play, he still suspected that something wasn’t quite right with all of their reports. When I pushed him further he said perhaps the new race had something to do with it,” she said.

  “Well did you believe him?” Aiyana asked.

  “Not at first,” said Cybele as she wiped down the bar counter with a dirty rag.

  “But?” she probed.

  “But I started to piece things together. It led me to a woman who practices dark magic in northern New South Wales – deep in the bushland out at Tygalgah,” she said.

  “What did you find?” she asked, the suspense almost killing her.

  “It’s not what I found – it’s what I didn’t,” she said mysteriously.

  “Huh?” Her sister seemed to want to make her run loops around the truth. Why couldn’t she just spit out what she wanted to hear?

  “The witch lady was killed before I could ask her about it,” she said.

  “So you just left it at that?” Aiyana said dumfounded.

  “You’re not getting the pattern here are you?” her sister asked, clearly thinking her dumb for not catching on so quickly. She scowled at Cybele fiercely – what was her problem anyway?

  “Do you really think I wanted to end up like the rest of them? Dead? Well you’re wrong sis. Self-preservation and all, I chose the path of ignorance. Oh yeah, you can sit there with those judgy eyes, but really – presented with the same problem, what do you think you’d really do?” she questioned her.

  Aiyana thought about it for a minute. “I know I wouldn’t sell out the memory of my own parents just for the sake of my own safety. I know I would do everything I could to right the wrongs that had been done, and do you know why? Because they wouldn’t have sold us out if it had been reversed – don’t you get it?” she spat at Cybele.

  Her sister laughed a high pitched tinkling laugh now, which seemed completely ludicrous in context with the present situation.

  Aiyana shook her head in disbelief. Had her sister completely lost her mind, or had she just been hanging around these low-lifers far too long?

  “What the hell, Cybele?”

  “I think it’s you who doesn’t get it,” she retorted. “Tell me, Aiyana, have you had a visit yet – perhaps from one of them?”

  It took her moment for her to realise who ‘them’ were. Her face turned a bright pink as the blood rushed to her cheeks. Even in the darkness of the bar she knew that her sister could see the reaction her words had had on her. It was like every feeling, every breath, every thought she’d ever had since she’d first met Eilam was right there displayed on her face for all the world to see.

  “Why don’t you ask your newfound friends just what it is they really want from you!” she spat vehemently.

  “How do you know about them? What do you know about them?” she begged.

  Her sister started to walk away from her, turning off all the lights inside the bar as she made her way to the front exit. Aiyana grabbed her backpack and rushed after her, desperate for her sister to tell her what she knew before she left. They both stepped out into the deserted street, but for a few homeless men sleeping under a stairway further down the street. They weren’t a threat though, it was obvious they had already bunkered down for the night and they had surrounded themselves with scraps of cardboard to offer themselves some protection from the dampness that came with the fog as it swept through the city’s streets. Cybele fumbled with the locks on the door before taking off down the street away from her.

  “Cybele,” she shouted after her, hoping that one last call would break the hardened exterior that her sister had put around her. She saw her sister stop and her shoulders dropped in defeat. She turned and came back to face her.

  “Go see the witch’s niece. She’s still on her farm out at Tygalgah – it’s on Druin Road, you can’t miss it, it’s the last house,” she said and turned on her heel to walk off.

  “Thank you!” Aiyana yelled after her. Her sister stopped again and turned and nodded to her. She was just about to take off again, but as an afterthought yelled out to her, “By the way, keep away from Eilam,” she warned.

>   Aiyana was stunned. How could she possibly know about Eilam? Before she could regain her composure she realised once again that her sister had vanished from her life.

  Chapter Four

  Sleep eluded her. The race of thoughts that streamed through her mind made insomnia her only companion tonight. She was eager to track down the niece, but she couldn’t very well rock up on her doorstep in the middle of the night now could she? She settled for more coffee and an internet search of the road the house was supposed to be located on.

  Google maps brought up a street view of a farm lane that only had three houses on it. Her house was the last one at the end of a no through Road in a small valley where the river ran through it. The directions function on the internet told her it would take her about three quarters of an hour to get there if she headed south down the highway. She checked her watch and wondered what time was too early to visit. She decided to give one last attempt at sleep and set her alarm for seven thirty am. It would give her time for a shower and breakfast before rocking up to the niece’s place by nine am.

  She kicked off her boots and hopped into bed fully dressed and pulled the sheets up to her chin. She had found on many occasions before when she couldn’t sleep that if she just opened her eyes really wide and stared at the ceiling then she would just fall asleep and not even realise she had done so. It worked a gem this time too and she woke up to the alarm blaring in her ear, making the slight hangover she had seem worse than it did. She flicked the switch off and headed to the kitchen for coffee. Deciding she needed something greasy to counter act the tequila from the night before she quickly whipped up a bacon and egg roll before heading for the shower. She stripped off her clothes to reveal a hard lean body.

  She had to admit she had really been blessed in that way. Despite the fact she did sit ups and push ups, she seemed to be able to eat whatever she wanted whenever she wanted and not put a single ounce of fat on her body. If she had any friends she was sure they would be jealous, but she actually thought body image was overrated. After a quick soap up she pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a sweat shirt with a hood. With a full belly and clean clothes she couldn’t justify hanging around the apartment any longer. She left hoping that the niece would be more helpful than what her sister had been.

  ****

  The ride had been relaxing, not nearly so as flying with Eilam, but it came pretty close. She swung her bike on Druin Road and took note of her surroundings. Everything looked the same as she had seen it on the internet from the satellite view, and yet it didn’t. She chalked it up to being more overgrown than when the cameras must have first captured the snaps of the landscape and proceeded to the end of the street.

  The bitumen road ended here and was replaced with a gravel driveway that wound its way slowly up to the house. The house itself was set on over twenty acres – she had seen the plot size on the internet, although out here in the bush it seemed more like two hundred acres. The drive climbed a small hill that led to a wooden shack that was painted all manner of colours. There was a front porch that had wind chimes and crystals swinging from its awnings and a rocking chair in the corner that was waiting for someone to occupy it.

  She killed the engine and took off her helmet. Compared to the city, the silence was deafening. No cars, trains or buses. No loud sirens wailing or people screaming. No graffiti or vandalism – just nature at its purest.

  She almost thought she could see the sun trying to peep through the clouds out here. Almost.

  She headed towards the house and walked up the front steps until she came to the front door. It was painted a dark forest green colour and held a dream catcher hanging from a rusty old nail. She was about to knock and had her knuckles at the ready when the door creaked and swung open.

  She was surprised to see no one on the other side of it, just an empty hallway staring back at her. Everything inside was dark wood – the floors, the walls, even the ceiling – it was almost as if there had been an abundance of the stuff and they had gone to town with it whilst building this place.

  She caught the faint scent of patchouli lingering in the air which she absolutely hated. It was the one ‘hippie’ stench she just couldn’t stand. Not that she smelt it frequently where she roamed in the city, but on the odd occasion she received an unfortunate whiff it was enough to send her running in the opposite direction.

  She wasn’t about to go on in uninvited, so decided to call out instead.

  “Hello?” But there was no reply. She tried again, but louder this time so as to project her voice to the back of the house in case someone was in one of the rear rooms.

  “Hello, is anyone home?”

  “I am,” said the voice behind her. She spun around quickly, quite un-expecting the sudden company that had joined her. A plain woman with short mousy brown hair and glasses stood before her, completely expressionless. Aiyana had just about jumped out of her skin at the sound of her voice and struggled to regain her composure.

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you, you half scared me to death,” she admitted honestly.

  “Sorry about that, is there something I can help you with?” she asked.

  “Actually there is. Do you have a minute to talk?” she asked hopefully.

  “I have a bit of time before I have to head off,” the woman said as she politely checked her watch, “Please, do come inside,” she offered as she walked around her. Whist Aiyana detested the smell of the place she wasn’t about to pass up the only opportunity to possibly get the answers she so desperately craved. She followed the woman into the house and was shown into the front sitting room which was decorated with all manner of candles, crystals and books. The little square windows offered glimpses of the countryside and she could see it raining far off on the horizon.

  “Would you like some tea?” the woman offered.

  “Ah, yes please …I’m sorry; I don’t even know your name?”

  She felt like a fool. How could she expect this woman to open up to her and not have even bothered to find out a simple thing like her name?

  “It’s Harmony,” she said politely as she left the room to boil the kettle and Aiyana just sat and waited patiently for her to return.

  “Here we are,” Harmony said as she returned with a small tray holding a tea pot and two cups and saucers.

  “Thank you,” she said as she accepted a cup of the brew from her.

  “So how can I help you?” asked Harmony.

  “This is going to sound kind of crazy, but do you know much about what happened to your Aunt?” She had decided to just take the forthright approach and taken the risk that the woman wouldn’t just turf her out on her arse and tell her to mind her own business. The woman seemed to weigh up the question before answering.

  “Seems you are asking about her, I am assuming you already know that she was a long time practitioner of witchcraft, am I right?” Harmony asked.

  “Yes, I believe she may have had some knowledge about what happened to my parents. There seems to be some suspicion surrounding their deaths,” she said.

  The woman looked more closely at her now before pointing her finger at her.

  “I should have seen it before, but you’ll forgive my eyesight is not the best, you’re Aiyana aren’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes,” she said surprised, “how do you know of me?”

  “It’s your namesake dear, my great Aunt has told me all about you, and of course it wasn’t that long ago that your sister came to see me. Now mind you, the two of you look nothing alike, but we discussed your parents at that visit also, which is why the story is still so fresh in my mind,” she said.

  “Would you mind telling me what you told Cybele?” she asked.

  “Of course dear, what you do with that information is entirely up to you. I can tell by your presence here that your sister has obviously not discussed anything with you, has she?”

  “I’m afraid she wants no part of it,” said Aiyana.

  “Well then, whe
re to start? Oh yes, let’s see…Almost a hundred years ago now your grandmother was a practicing witch too you see; now I can tell by the look on your face you didn’t know that did you? Well she was everything that was pure in this godforsaken place at the time. This was early days when the city on the coast still had a good name about it – your grandmother was just a young woman then – probably your age in fact. But slowly, slowly bad things started to happen.

  People forgot what it meant to be kind, instead following a path of sin, depravity, violence and aggression. It only got worse the more the authorities tried to enforce the law,” she said.