by Melle Amade
I walk up the pot-holed dirt driveway. The house is mostly hidden behind a mass of wild, unkempt trees, perfect for ravens to hide in. I should be heading straight to the back of the house where Zan told me to meet her, but instead I veer down the tiny pathway that leads to the enormous old barn. It’s the same sun worn wooden texture as the house, but more repairs have been made to it. Even now I can hear hammering coming from somewhere up on the roof.
The barn doors are closed, but there’s pounding and yelling coming from inside. This is where the Ravensgaard train during the day. Even outside they have strawmen and rings hanging from the trees. My steps slow as I pass. I’ve seen inside the barn before, but I’ve never been invited to train with them. A sigh escapes me.
Not yet.
I don’t even know if I’ll get there. If I can’t figure out how to shift into a raven again, I’ll have to leave town.
I push through the bushes to the pool at the back of the farmstead. Zan and Roman sit on an outdoor couch in the shade of a massive oak. The cushions fluff dust as I flop next to Zan. She’s as focused as a bloodhound on the trail of a killer and barely notices me. Roman’s reclining with his gold-rimmed sunglasses on and I’m pretty sure he’s napping.
“Rough life you got there,” I grin but he doesn’t respond. Definitely sleeping. I focus on Zan. “What’d you find?”
“Sorry,” she sticks her finger in her book and looks up. “I dug this book out of Aiden’s library and spent all night going through it. I’m trying to find out anything I can about nuvervels.”
“Are you even sure I am one?” I frown.
“Um, yeah. We know you can shift into two animals,” she says.
“Not true.” I kick at a small rock that’s resting by my feet. It bounces off Roman’s leg.
“Ow!” He’s startled awake, rubbing his shin.
“Sorry,” I murmur, looking at Zan. “We know I’ve shifted into two birds, but except for that one time, I’ve only ever shifted into one, the Passief.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Roman says. “Even if your body is suppressing it, it’s obvious it’s in there. Both birds.”
“Maybe it was an anomaly,” I shrug. “You know, like I’m really a dove but in that moment, I was so desperate that I turned black instead of white when I shifted.”
“Not possible,” Roman grabs a cup of ice tea off the table. “It’s biology. You have to have it in you or you can’t manifest it.”
“What I don’t understand,” Zan murmurs, “is that you can’t-” Her eyes dart to Roman and she closes her mouth.
“Oh hey now,” Roman sits up and peers over his glasses. “You two can’t keep secrets from me. That’s illegal.”
I roll my eyes. “Says who? The frog police?”
“Pretty much. Forget the Ravensgaard are badass… I think we all know who’s real badass around here.” He holds up his hand looking at the palm and wiggling his fingers.
“If by badass you mean total dork, then you definitely have that title.” Zan says.
“I’m having problems controlling when I shift,” I shrug like it’s no big deal.
“Oh that’s no good,” Roman frowns, his gaze moving between Zan and me. “How long has this been going on?”
“It happened twice yesterday.”
“Twice?” Zan looks up.
“Yeah, on my way to the manor.”
“You went to the manor last night? After you insisted that I don’t take you?” Her eyes squint at me.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” I say. “I was really feeling ill after I shifted in your jeep. I had to rest, but later I felt better and I thought I might try to shift with Aiden.”
Zan presses her lips together.
“This isn’t going to get weird, is it?” Roman asks.
“You told me you didn’t want to go.” Zan ignores Roman.
“I changed my mind when I felt better,” I say. “What’s the big deal?”
“Can we just focus on the book, maybe?” Roman points to the massive tome in Zan’s lap. I raise my eyebrows at her. Whatever’s bugging her, I’m not giving in to it.
“What’s in the book, Zan?”
Zan shuts her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “So, you can’t control when you shift and when you do shift, you turn into a dove.”
“Pretty much.” I glance at the ancient book in her lap. “How can you even read his scrawl?” I reach my hand forward to trace the scribbled black lines, but Zan intercepts me with a swift grip. She’s wearing thin plastic gloves, the kind that cling completely to your hand.
“Don’t touch it,” she says. “It’s priceless. Balthazar insisted I put these on. I probably shouldn’t even be out here with it.”
“You’re in the shade,” Roman says.
“You remember meeting the badger warlock, right?” Zan mocks. “He’s the old guy who almost ripped my head off in a single bite?”
“Until you were saved by an incredibly dashing hero,” Roman shoots her a sideways look with a cheesy smile.
“Who wrote it?” I ask.
Zan’s hair curls move around her face like the auburn lion’s mane. She folds the book back to show me the cover. It’s worn burgundy leather. “There’s a name on the front page,” she says. “Well, it’s not really a name, it’s a mark.” She opens the cover and on the first inside page there’s a symbol; a circle with an X in it and in each quadrant, there’s a dot. Above the whole thing is a zigzag line.
“That’s the author?” I ask dubiously.
“Well it has to be, right?” Zan says. “It’s the only other thing on the page besides the title.”
“The Disease and Plagues of Shifters,” I murmur. “That’s one heck of a title.”
“It doesn’t mean you have a disease,” Zan says.
“Why would you even think that?” I ask.
“I don’t,” Zan says. “It’s just, you know, I got to thinking. There’s so little written anywhere about shifters that can change into two animals. There’s only the myths and some of those were written by humans, so we can’t believe those. But it has to have happened.”
“It’d be weird if you were the first and only person in the history of all shifters who could turn into two animals,” Roman nods his agreement.
“Very weird.” The words come out slowly, pushing their way through the secret fear that has been surrounding me since I first turned into a dove. What if it’s true? What if I still don’t belong?
“Look, you’re not alone.” Zan presses her forehead against mine and her copper eyes bore into me. She can read my fear. She pulls back, smiling, “Don’t want to be all human with an ‘I’m so unique’ attitude.”
“Even if you are the only one who can shift into two animals, we’re not going to suddenly kick you to the curb.” Roman grins.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” I point out, “but from what I’m hearing, these Order guys aren’t exactly forgiving of differences.”
“We’ll find a solution and it’ll all be fine,” Zan says. “We’ll get through this together.”
“You’re good people,” I throw her a half-smile. “Even if you do think I’m diseased.”
“I’m trying to think differently,” she ignores my pity party. “Maybe it’s not that there’s nothing about nuvervels. Maybe if I was living 500 years ago and was chronicling the lives of shifters. And, the norm was for shifters to change into a single animal, then someone shifted and turned into two different animals. Then, maybe I would think that they had a disease.”
“Okay,” I say.
“So,” she continues, “I looked up the names of prominent shifter healers he knew who kept books.”
“I thought Zaragoza was a healer,” I say.
“No, he’s a warlock.” She says it as if it should be obvious. Like, I should’ve known that.
“I guess I missed Shifter Employment Classification 101.” I close my eyes and rub my face to shake off the irritati
on. Now’s not the time for a slinging match with Zan. “Well, what did you find out? Do I have some dire sickness?”
“Look, Shae.” She delicately turns the page to show me what she’s found. The scrawl on this page, is even more agitated than the rest. My gaze floats over the angry letters, but moves to the facing page, where bright color explodes across the surface. Roman and I both lean in to get a better look.
It takes me a moment to understand what the blotches of color are, how they move and relate to each other. What they represent. And then, I gasp.
It’s a person being torn in half.
One side of their body stretches out into hair and claws, with blood dripping from their fingernails. On the other side, their eyes bug out of their head, black and dead, while a bird’s beak vomits from their lips. And, down the center of their body is a jagged line that cleaves them in two as one side strives to be a bear and the other screams to be a bird.
“Oh, what the- what-?” My legs are weak and my guts are crunching in on each other as I take the picture in. I’m not even clear on what it’s telling me, but it looks exactly like I felt the other day when I couldn’t control my shift. My skin suddenly chills; cold and clammy.
I glance over the words, but I can’t make any sense of the scribbled black writing on the almost translucent paper. “What language is it written in?” I ask.
“I’m not sure,” Zan murmurs, her finger runs over the page without touching it. “Some ancient tongue. We’ll have to ask Zaragoza.”
“I’m not sure I want to know what it says,” murmurs Roman.
“Well, I’m not sure Zaragoza’s going to tell us,” Zan says.
“Don’t let anyone see it.” I reach towards the book, motioning Zan to close it.
“You haven’t told Callum that you can’t control your shifting, have you?” Zan asks.
“No.” I rub my face in my hands. “Aiden knows, I told him last night.” I ignore the crease that drives up the center of Zan’s forehead. There isn’t time to worry about her relationship with Aiden. I could be dying here.
“Callum needs to know,” Roman says.
Zan nods. “And we need Zaragoza.”
Breath fills me as if I’m drowning. “Okay. Okay.”
“Can you come up to the manor tonight?” Zan asks.
I shake my head. “Mom’s home tonight so we scheduled family game night.” It’s kinda true. I’m planning on pulling out a board game when we get home.
But I don’t tell her the full truth.
I don’t tell her I’m scared. Telling Callum, trying to get help from Zaragoza… it makes it all so real. Right now, it’s just some gory medieval picture with a bunch of scrawled text I can’t read. But if we sit around and discuss it, try to find a solution together, then it’s going to become real. I swallow and my saliva gets stuck in my throat. What if the birds inside really are killing me? Tearing me apart? And what if there is no solution? What if, like everything else we stumble across, it’s a dead-end? What if no one now or in the deep past knows why I shift into two different birds, or how to stop it from killing me? Forget waiting for execution by the Order. I might be dead before they even show up.
Roman’s hand is on my arm. “It’s going to be okay, Shae.”
My gaze falls on a crack in the glass of the coffee table. I don’t move. I can’t. I can’t even get any words out.
“I’ll go talk to Zaragoza,” Zan says. She pulls me in for a hug, then looks me in the eye. “We got this.”
“Okay,” I choke the word out. But I don’t believe it. I stumble to my feet. Roman stands with me, but I shake my head. “I need some time,” I mutter.
The ground is sinking beneath me.
The shouts of Ravensgaard training have moved outside the barn. They fill the air as I make my way back to the top of the driveway where I left my bike. Shanahan barks orders and the warriors respond with answering calls. I need to avoid them; him in particular. In my current state, I’ll just fall apart if he grills me about my lack of training, lack of sling and asks me why the heck I’m riding a bike instead of flying to and from the farmstead. But as I’m about to slip around the house the other way, I hear a woman’s voice join Shanahan’s. She yells commands even louder than him.
“Higher! Get up there, you lazy git! You call that a throw? You move faster I’ll land this blade in your arse! Next!”
Who the heck is that?
Ravensgaards’ laughter and jeers join her taunts; I can’t stop myself. Twisting my body sideways, I slide just far enough into the bushes to peer through to the other side and see what’s going on. The outsider looking in.
A row of black-clad, raven shifters stand in line, ready to run the gauntlet. It’s made up of aerial rings and tires and a tightrope and a wall. Ends with some sort of flip and throwing the daggers at the strawman. I’ve seen Aiden and Callum practice on this once before, but watching the Ravensgaard move through it is like watching a precision fighting machine in action, with each one a bullet erupting out of a cocked gun. They blaze through the obstacle course blasting out the other end to slam their daggers into the heart of the beat-up strawman. Human warriors. I thought Callum and Aiden were impressive, but these guys make them look like such amateurs. How the hell am I ever going to fit in with this crowd? They’re warriors. A legion that fights for the Order against Hunters and, my breath catches as the realization hits me, probably Passiefs, if there are any others. These are the shifters that would be out to destroy me if they knew what I really was. I cringe back into the shadows of the bushes.
Shanahan stands in the glaring sun, eyes squinting as he watches each warrior go through their paces. The woman I heard jibing the Ravensgaard stands like a dark shadow at his side, her face shaded by a gunmetal gray baseball cap with raven emblem flying skyward on it. She’s tall, toned and I haven’t seen the black Ravensgaard gear look so good on anyone. Her pale white chin juts out from under the shadows and her bright red lips shine like blood in the sunlight. Two black glossy braids drape forward over each shoulder. If there was ever a badass raven chick, she is it.
I shrink back and out of the shrubs as Callum’s musky scent fills my head. My skin flames but I can’t tell if it’s because I’m caught spying on the Ravensgaard or because he’s so close.
“Who’s the new girl?” I bluster, trying to be nonchalant but mostly failing.
He doesn’t have to look, it’s obvious who I’m talking about. “Iona,” he mutters as he grabs my elbow. A million dragonflies flitter in my stomach as he leads me towards the driveway and away from where the Ravensgaard are training. “I wanted to talk to you.”
I take a quick, low breath in, hoping to steady the rapid beating of my heart. “Ravensgaard stuff?” I ask casually as if we talk about it all the time.
“The Commendation is tomorrow.” His hand falls from my elbow as our steps align and we head down the driveway towards my bike.
“Yeah,” I say.
“You need to be there. You won’t have to shift, but the Ravensgaard are going to need to see you swear fealty to me.”
Right. “And then I do everything you tell me after that?” That kind of grates on my nerves. It’s such blind trust. I mean, these guys are my best friends, but to blanket agree to do whatever he tells me to do, there’s something in there that totally rubs me the wrong way.
“That’s how it works.”
“What if I don’t like what you tell me to do?” I ask.
Callum’s head bobs as if this doesn’t surprise him at all. “You weren’t raised in our ways and, well, the Ravensgaard can be pretty intense.” He glances over his shoulder and lowers his voice. “I’m expected to lead, but honestly, I’m still trying to figure it out, too. We’ll see how many swear fealty to me tonight.”
“Are you campaigning us one at a time? I mean, if that’s the case, you might want to try something other than ‘You need to swear fealty to me tonight.’” I smile.
He shrugs. “I only use th
at kind of smooth talking with you.”
My skin heats up. It might just be the most personable thing he’s said to me in a month.
“Listen,” I say. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
He stops and stares at me. “Of course. Didn’t I just say you need to do it?”
“What… what if I can’t shift into a raven. Like, ever?” I ask.
His face clouds. “That’s a different issue.”
“Well, I think it’s kind of the same issue,” I argue. “We’re trying to get me to fit in with the Ravensgaard, swear fealty, train, all that stuff that goes along with it, but none of that is going to happen if I can’t actually be a raven. And, if I could be a raven, we wouldn’t have to worry about what all the other Ravensgaard think of me.”
“Not sure about that.” Callum glances over his shoulder. “The rest of the shifter world isn’t quite as easy going as you’ve experienced in Topanga.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Easygoing?”
“Well, except for my uncle and the revolt and that. What I mean, is that you kinda have to worry about what all the clans are thinking a bit.”
I suck in my cheeks and breathe deep through my nose. He’s got so much pressure on him. There’s no way he needs the added problem that I uncontrollably shift into a dove and I’m being torn apart by the two beasts inside me. Better if I lighten the mood a bit. “So, if I swear fealty to you, you won’t ask me to do things like scrub your shoes?”
We both glance down at his retro black Dr. Martens®. “Well, they are pretty dusty.” He throws me a crooked smile. “Listen, Shae, it’s not that big of a deal. We just have to make a show of it.”
“Okay, I’ll be there. Now, you want me to go out and start campaigning for you?” I grin.
He laughs. “Maybe that’s not the best approach.”
“Yeah, not sure how much pull I have with your ravens.” I squint in the afternoon sun. “Maybe you should get Iona to go first.”
“Not a bad idea,” Callum says. “She’s really popular.”
I start walking towards my bike again, my lip curls in distaste. “Must be nice.”
