Raven's Song

by Launnie Roush

  “It was closer to twelve years, and I am.”

  Sheila smiled, and invited Del to accompany her to the snack bar. Del followed the young woman, his heart thudding wildly and his mind awhirl as he silently cheered his good fortune. They approached the bar, and Sheila ordered soft-drinks for the both of them. Just then, James sauntered up and tapped the Sheila on the shoulder. She turned and, upon recognizing him, let out another of her pleasant giggles. “James Hartnett! It’s been too long, guy!” she gushed as she threw her arms around James’s neck.

  “Definitely!” James agreed as he returned Sheila’s hug.

  “You know her?!” Del asked his cousin with obvious surprise as he and Sheila separated.

  “I told ya I know everybody, Cousin. Sheila and I used to hang out together all the time. She used to be my best friend,” James’s related before his tone and expression suddenly became smug, “Wait a second, was this the ‘heart-stopping’ person you spent half the night lookin’ for?”

  Del turned back to the bar as a flush of embarrassment lit up his face.

  “What’re you talking about, Jimmy-boy?” Sheila asked James, using the nickname she had given him years before.

  “He saw you earlier from across the club, and fell instantly in love with you. Just ask ‘im,” James explained.

  Sheila leaned in close to Del, a mischievous yet pretty little grin playing at her lips, “Is that true? Are you in love with me?”

  “No, but I’m definitely intrigued by you, to say the least” Del replied with a charming smile.

  A slow, romantic song started playing, and the bustle on the dance floor died down as couples began to pair off and sway in time to the music. “Come dance with me, Jimmy-boy,” Sheila insisted as she pulled James by his arm towards the dance floor.

  “Be right back,” James told his cousin before allowing himself to be dragged away.

  Del watched enviously as James and Sheila fell into a dancer’s embrace and chatted with one another as the music played on. He was still watching when a large, muscular male youth dressed in scuffed khaki slacks and a tight, hunter green t-shirt lumbered up and snatched James away from Sheila by his shirt collar. Del was on his feet in an instant and rushed forward just in time to hear James blurt an apology.

  “C’mon, Radley, I didn’t mean anythin’ by it!” James practically sobbed.

  “Creator’s name, Radley, you’re acting like an anus!” Sheila interjected.

  “Shut up, Sheila! I saw this little eunuch pawin’ ya, and I ain’t gonna stand for it!” the big youth named Radley blasted.

  “We were dancing, Radley Shaffer! If anything, I was pawing him just as much as he was pawing me!” Sheila shot back.

  The crowd responded to this remark with catcalls and whistles, which only seemed to further enrage the big youth. James attempted to further plead his case, but closed his eyes and braced himself when the youth threw a punch at his face. Sheila let out a small exclamation of fright, and the crowd went quiet as Radley’s fist sped towards James’s face, but many of them let out gasps as the punch was stopped midflight. Radley directed his gaze to his right, and found a powerful, albeit scuffed, hand clamped around his wrist. He followed the appendage to its owner, and found himself staring into the steely eyes of Del Von Raben.

  Del studied Radley’s face, a handsome, chiseled-featured thing rendered ugly by the mask of rage it currently wore. His eyes were beady and brown and his hair, also brown, was styled into a flattop. Beneath his left eye was a black feather similar to Sheila’s.

  “I’ll give ya that one, asshole! If I’d seen ya comin’ there’d be two little shits on the ground right now!” Radley growled as he released James collar. He tried to wrench his fist from Del’s grasp, but found it to be held fast. “Lemme go right now!” he barked.

  Suddenly, both youths were forcibly pulled apart by two Raven rangers in full barding. “You two wanna go to the lockup for the night?” one of them asked.

  “Of course not,” Radley grumbled as he relaxed his arm.

  Del shrugged, released his grip on Radley, and took a step back.

  “Okay, then. Now I want the lot of ya to head home for the evenin’. I won’t have you ruinin’ everyone’s fun,” the ranger ordered.

  Radley nodded, “Yeah, yeah.”

  From within the crowd came five more dangerous looking youths with feathers under their left eyes.

  “See ya ‘round,” Radley assured Del, and after one last hateful glare he pushed his way towards the door, the other youths sporting black feathers in tow. Sheila caught Del’s eye, silently mouthed an apology, then followed Radley and his entourage.

  James approached Del. “Sorry ‘bout all that. Guess you figured out Sheila’s Radley’s girlfriend.”

  “I feel sorry for her,” Del said.

  “Yeah, but our hands are tied on this one.”

  “Why?”

  “Radley’s leader of the Black Feathers,” James informed his cousin, “They’re the most feared street gang in both sides of Chieftown. Incidentally, they’re very good at hurtin’ people.”

  “I’ve seen worse.”

  “No doubt,” James concurred, “but just the same, you still shouldn’t associate with Sheila.”

  “Why?” Del pressed.

  “Well, in addition to bein’ Radley’s girl, her reputation’s gone too foul since hookin’ up with ‘im. She’s doin’ terribly in school, grade and discipline-wise, when she even bothers to show up. She’s been arrested for several minor crimes, and been involved in a ton she’s gotten away with. She’s shunned almost all her old friends, includin’ me, and treats her parents like crap. I don’t think your parents would approve of you runnin’ with a girl like that.”

  Del was obviously disappointed, “She seemed nice.”

  “Abysses, maybe you should get to know her, as a friend if nothin’ else! Maybe between the two of us, we could straighten her out,” James proposed.

  Del smiled, “It’d definitely be worth a try.”

  THIRTY ONE

  The Monday afternoon following the club altercation found Del and James walking home from school together, as was their new custom. They were discussing an upcoming freestyle kendo match that James was excited about when James felt a tap on his shoulder. He stopped and turned to find Sheila Beech favoring him with a shy grin. She was clothed in brown, curve-hugging slacks and a white sleeveless t-shirt emblazoned with the nanite-animated logo of a popular sitcom. Her natural hair color was a dark brunette, and Del found her even more beautiful than before.

  “You followin’ us?” James asked the young woman.

  “I tried to call you last night, but your Cell is apparently in social restriction,” Sheila replied.

  “Uh-huh. Stupid government says I’ve exceeded my Cell’s social allotment. I just don’t see why we have to spend so much time talkin’ to each other in person. Where’s the harm in doin’ most our socializin’ with video chat, emails, texts, phone calls. You know, the easy way.”

  “It’s dangerously unhealthy to do all your socializin’ digitally. Didn’t you learn anything in history class?” Sheila countered.

  “Listen to you, lecturin’ me about what I learned in class, you friggin’ truant! Speakin’ of which, didn’t see ya in school again today, not like that’s a big surprise,” James remarked, a teasing grin on his face.

  “I go to school. Sometimes. Anyhow, is it okay if a girl walks with the two of you?” she asked them.

  “Only if the girl’s you,” James replied as he moved aside to let the young woman fall in step between him and Del.

  “Won’t your boyfriend get angry?” Del asked.

  “There’s very little chance we’ll get caught,” James assured his cousin.

  “Yeah, and I won’t tell if you two don’t. Besides, the two of you are far more handsome than Radley Shaffer,” Sheila added with a smile that stopped Del’s breath, “So, what’d you learn in school today?”

  “Butt-
kickin’! Del was assigned to the same combat training unit as me, like he even needs training!” James answered excitedly.

  “You’re becoming a ranger?!” Sheila exclaimed as she stopped and turned towards Del.

  “That’s what they tell me,” Del told her, his voice devoid of enthusiasm.

  “That’s insane!” she raved as they continued walking, “We’ve got enough rangers for a hundred wars, and we haven’t even been to war in nearly a century! We don’t need any more rangers who’re paid to sit around, participate in war games, and march in parades because there isn’t even enough crime to use them all as law enforcement!”

  “Forgive her, Del, she’s a pacifist. Don’t expect any butt-kickin’ from her, which is a shame ‘cause she used to be real good at it,” James informed his cousin, his voice brimming with mirth.

  “You’re a pacifist?” Del asked the young woman with the slightest hint of admiration.

  “I am,” Sheila answered, “everyone learns some combat techniques while they’re in school, being that it’s the law. I, however, choose not to use violence to solve my problems. That’s what morons do.”

  “Oh shut up! You’re just a frazzled-up woman that doesn’t know a thing about the workings of the world!” James barked in a self-important tone.

  “And you’re the spawn of a corporate warmonger! Oh, and you’re an idiot that does all his thinking with his male appendage!” Sheila shot back.

  Del could not help but laugh at that remark, and soon his companions had joined in on this moment of glee. After they had calmed themselves, they resumed their conversation as they made their way to James’s house.

  #

  The trio continued this little custom almost every day for the next three months, meeting after school and walking to James’s house, where they would hang out until early evening. Sheila was elated that her close friendship with James had resumed as if it had never been on hiatus and, of course, there was his cousin Del. The shy, and not to mention very sexy, young man she had met at Heaven-Sent had proven himself to be intelligent, incredibly funny, and remarkably charming. She soon found herself incapable of acting properly around him. Those with whom she associated knew her to be cheerful, outgoing, and very sociable; in short, she was the life of the party. However, the instant she was alone with Del she grew quiet, nervous, physically clumsy, and felt everything she said came off as silly to him, as he often became frustratingly stoic when they were alone together.

  It was at that point she realized she was quickly becoming enamored with the young man. So when James invited her to accompany him and Del to a freestyle kendo tournament just after the school year ended in early June, she had plenty of reasons to leap at the opportunity. She arrived at James’s house on the appointed Saturday morning, a large, stately home in an upscale East Chieftown neighborhood. She knew she was early, but would not mind spending time with the young men with whom she had built a strong friendship.

  Her Cell informed the HouseMind of her arrival, and the front door was soon answered by James’s mother. “Good morning, Sheila!” Anna greeted jovially.

  “Mornin’, Mrs. Von Raben-Hartnett! Is James up?” Sheila returned.

  “He is, in fact. He and his cousin are doing some training in the backyard. They said to send you back when you got here,” Anna related as she invited Sheila inside.

  “Thanks so much!” Sheila said as she accepted the invitation.

  She quickly made her way through the finely-appointed house and onto the patio adjoining the sizable backyard. James had apparently set up a well-equipped training area in the backyard so he and his cousin could stick to their ranger training regimen in their off time. James noticed her five minutes later and began making his way over, but her eyes were firmly fixed on Del, who was currently engaged in an intense series of pull-ups. He was hanging from a pull-up bar, a formidable looking collection of weights strapped to his ankles. He was wearing only a pair of loose fitting black trousers, and as he exercised the muscles in his back and arms bulged and rippled, sending a wave of potent lust burning though her. It was the first time she had seen his body in any state of undress, and she was captivated by the chiseled, battle-scarred physique his clothing had concealed.

  Blessed Creator, he’s gorgeous, she told herself.

  James had arrived at her side, his form practically lost in his baggy blue sweatsuit. “Sorry to keep ya waitin’,” he said by way of greeting.

  “No worries,” Sheila assured him distractedly.

  James followed her gaze. “Pretty impressive, ain’t he. He’s been at it non-stop since four this mornin’. I swear the guy’s superhuman.”

  “Definitely impressive,” Sheila agreed.

  “Hey, Del, Sheila’s here!” James hollered.

  Del pulled himself up one last time, lifted his legs, and reached down with one hand to detach the weights from his ankles while keeping his chin held firmly above the bar with one flexed arm. He then slowly lowered himself to the ground with said arm, then began making his way towards his cousin.

  “Creator have mercy on any army dumb enough to attack the Federation once you’re a ranger!” James cheered as he clapped his cousin on the back.

  “Hello,” Del greeted as he graced Sheila with a shy smile.

  “Hey,” Sheila returned with equal, and uncharacteristic, shyness, his gaze causing her flesh to break out in goosebumps.

  “Go on and shower first, Del. Ya got more stink on ya than I do,” James ordered.

  Del nodded and started into the house. Sheila gazed after him, her eyes fixed to the tattoo on his back, until James crossed into her field of vision, a knowing grin on his face.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  “Just wonderin’ how long before ya simply tackle ‘em. Good thing he went inside, poor guy was in danger of havin’ his pants ripped off by a ravenously aroused woman.”

  “Shut up!” Sheila cried, a flush of embarrassment lighting her cheeks.

  “I’d hate to be you, Miss Beech. Dating Radley Shaffer but madly in love with another man,” James teased.

  “Who said anything about love?!”

  “Alright, alright,” James relented, “no love, but certainly some deep, burnin’ lust present.”

  “James Hartnett, I swear I’m gonna murder you!” Sheila growled.

  “Hey now! No violence, Miss Pacifist. Alright then, this can be your dirty little hormone-fueled secret, but ya better try a little harder to hide your desires. Del’s a sharp one, and I’m sure it won’t be long before he’s on to ya,” James warned.

  #

  The first half of the tournament was quite eventful, but Sheila was hopelessly distracted by the young man who sat beside her. Del’s face was displaying its usual mask of quiet intensity as he took in the bouts before them. She wondered if James had intentionally sat her between him and his cousin, and was not sure if she was angry or pleased with his presumption. Soon it was time for the mid-event intermission, and the second it commenced James shot to his feet.

  “Gotta use the facilities and get us some drinks. You two behave while I’m gone,” he instructed with a smarmy grin.

  Sheila shot a quick glare at her departing friend, but immediately went still, Del’s presence once again capturing her focus. Several seconds of silence went by, compelling her to speak. “Pretty good match, huh? Everyone doing their proper weapon moves and all,” she commented, groaning inwardly at her graceless attempt at conversation.

  “They’re soft,” Del returned.

  “They are?!” Sheila countered, genuinely surprised at this observation of some of the most skilled kendoka from both sides of Chieftown.

  “They feel no urgency. They’re perfectly safe, so there’s no need to fight with any kind of genuine skill. To be honest, I don’t understand this nation’s obsession with combat,” Del admitted.

  “You don’t?”

  “No one who’s been in battle would see the fun in pretending to do battle, let alo
ne actually doing it.”

  “Is that why you don’t wanna be a ranger?”

  “I was forced into combat every day for over a decade. It’s a brutal thing to experience and to live with afterwards. Frankly, I’m exhausted with the whole mess, and no amount of money and prestige could make me return to that life,” he told her, a stoniness entering his voice.

  Sheila admired his conviction, but decided to slightly redirect the conversation, “So you can tell how skilled a fighter is just by watching them fight?”

  “It’s very important to be able to judge a warrior’s skill from the tiniest hint they may betray, whether in or out of combat. How they sit, how they walk, how they adjust their clothes, lift a cup, any action. A glance says a lot about a warrior.”

  “Really? Am I a skilled warrior?” Sheila asked.

  “No.”

  Sheila, of course, knew this but decided to prod her companion in jest. “Shows what you know! See this fist?! It’s shattered the bones of countless victims of my righteous rage!” she bragged as she turned in her seat and presented a clenched fist to Del.

  She was rendered speechless when Del gently wrapped a hand around her fist and began slowly moving it about. She was trying her hardest to hide her nervous excitement as his calloused palm absorbed the details of her hand. This was the first time he had come into physical contact with her for more that the briefest of moments, and she was absolutely thrilled it was happening.

  “Delicate bone structure, soft, flawless skin, relatively weak grip. Not a fist I could imagine shattering bones,” Del reported with a small smile.

  “Oh, I see! I’m just some weak little girl, then!” Sheila retorted with mock indignity.

  “A poorly formed fist doesn’t mean the person forming it is weak. This is a relatively unintimidating fist being formed by a remarkably strong young woman. She’s very smart, very brave, extremely charming, and absolutely beautiful inside and out. I’d pick her over anyone else to stand beside me against any opposition the world could present. Anyone who knows her is made better because of it. I’m made better because I know you, and for that you have my undying gratitude,” Del told her.