The Ravenswynd Series - Boxed Set

by Sharon Ricklin Jones

  The luxurious bedroom was eclipsed by an enormous king-sized bed. The bedspread was ablaze in reds, golds and browns which complimented the heather of the landscape seen through the gigantic window behind the bed.

  I sat on the side of the bed, bouncing up and down, watching Emrys as he finished hauling in our suitcases. Everything felt comfortable and cozy. “I knew you would love it here, Elizabeth.” Emrys grinned, apparently tuned in to all my happy musings.

  Nodding and smiling, I said, “I think it’s absolutely lovely!”

  After freshening up a bit, we climbed back into the car, stopped for a quick bite to eat, and then headed over to meet with our famous prophetess. I was beyond excited and could barely sit still, wishing he’d drive faster.

  Emrys became more animated the closer we got to Sibelle’s home. The area was covered with patches of snow and the chill in the air was brisk, now and then causing the car to lurch with the wind, but luckily the roads were dry. He was in the midst of giving me a quick history lesson about Sibelle and why she still lived here in the Hebrides, when no other Ravens did.

  “She is... one of the oldest of our kind,” he said, hands tight on the steering wheel. “The story is told that she was born in 1266, the same year that the Treaty of Perth left the Hebrides and the Isle of Man to Scotland - for a small price to the Norwegians, of course - and when, at the tender age of nine years old, Sibelle gave her first prophecy - she told her family that within the year the Scots would defeat the last Norse king, Godred Magnuson. They soon found out that she was correct; a battle took place that year, 1275, the battle of Ronaldsway. And as far as I am aware, she has never been wrong since.” He adjusted the rear view mirror, quickly setting his eyes back on the road ahead, but his expression was thoughtful and determined. And he looked quite happy.

  Recalling some of Emrys’ memories that I had gleaned from him during my quickening, I asked, “Do you think Sibelle actually met some of those famous men she told you about? Like George Orwell or William Wordsworth?”

  How cool that would be!

  “It seems so,” he said, smiling. “I remember vividly one particular story: When I first asked about her origins and how she came to be a prophetess, she told me about the stones.”

  “Stones? What stones are you referring to, Stonehenge?”

  “No, those are the ones that are located in England. She was speaking about the ones right here in Scotland that I mentioned earlier: The Callanish stones. Apparently she was born here on the Isle of Lewis, and was taken there each year on her birthday to celebrate the summer solstice, or as she calls it, Feill-Sheathain. She said she was born at exactly noon on June twenty-first, when the ancients believed the sun stood still. And her first drink came from the skull of a Raven, giving her powers of prophecy and wisdom in the Hebrides.”

  “Does that mean her powers are only good if she remains in the Hebrides?” This idea seemed a little strange to me, but what did I know of prophecy and wisdom?” I gazed out the window, constantly watching for the cottage I’d remembered from my vision. “It doesn’t seem right to me.”

  “Well, I am not quite sure about that, but as far as I know, she has never left the islands. She has visited every one of them and lived on several different isles through the years, but she has lived in the Hebrides her entire life; and apparently, it has been quite a long one. I cannot help but think some of that wisdom must come from just being around for so bloody long.” When he glanced at me, his eyes lit up as he grinned. His long black hair glistened in the tiny bit of sunlight filtering in through the window.

  “Does she get many visitors?” I asked seriously. In my vision, her home seemed quite primitive, and the area seemed desolate and lonely, quite similar to the views I could see from the passenger seat now.

  “She does. She has a regular parade of visitors every week. Do not worry your sweet little head about Sibelle. I doubt she has enough free time to ever feel lonely. My guess would be that she may even crave some peace and quiet now and then.”

  “So, do you know how old was she when she transitioned?”

  I wasn’t sure if it was even proper to ask, but it seemed the next logical question. He already knew that I would ask who her maker was, though he didn’t wait for me to verbalize it.

  “When Sibelle is asked her age, she usually wrinkles up her face and laughs. Some even say she was born a Raven; I have never asked her to persuade me otherwise. Some say she is a witch; others believe she is one of the greatest prophetesses the world has ever seen. I fall into the latter category and I believe that she inherited her immortality from whoever her maker was, not from some magical spell. You can decide for yourself, once you meet her. As a matter of fact, you can ask her yourself, but do not be surprised if she ignores your question; no one knows the name of her maker,” he said. “One thing I do know: you will adore her. It may be a bit difficult for you to understand her, but what she has to say more than makes up for the way she says it.”

  I nodded thoughtfully, remembering from my quickening: her accent was very thick, but I had understood her well enough. I figured I’d have no problem in person either.

  After going around another bend in the road, I spotted the cottage on top of the hill. It was just like in my vision and the closer we got, the more excited I felt. When Emrys parked the car, I noticed his wide smile – as usual; I’d succeeded in keeping him pleasantly entertained with my musings. I gathered up my purse and reached for the door handle, barely containing my exhilaration, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. We were finally here.

  We had to walk uphill on a steep, jagged, stone stairway. All the while we climbed I couldn’t help but think back to my vision; it was the most accurate one so far, in regards to the details of our surroundings. At the top of the steps Sibelle’s ancient cottage stood, the exact image from my mind’s eye. The salty air from hundreds of years had buffeted its brown brick sides and left them smooth. A steady plume of smoke rose from the crooked chimney, blending into the heavy clouds above, and, occasionally, a few small red sparks sputtered up, drifted with the wind, and then made a soft landing, stark and black against the snow, nothing but burnt out embers.

  Seeing everything just as I had envisioned it gave me a huge rush of excitement, and I knew exactly what I would see and hear next. Through the old, wavy window glass, I saw Sibelle bent over the fireplace and, at that precise moment in time, I heard the hoot of an owl. My heart fluttered and my mind swirled with a feeling that closely resembled intoxication. Not only was I seeing one of my visions come to life, but I’d finally get to meet the famous prophetess who seemed to know so much about me and certainly plenty, if not everything, about Emrys.

  As we reached the top landing Sibelle turned toward the window, giving us a wide grin. Of course there would be no surprising her. She must have known when we would arrive before we even made our plans. She greeted us at the door with unrestrained laughter, truly happy to see us, and welcomed us to her home. What surprised me the most about her was that her smile revealed perfect, straight teeth, and her eyes were gorgeous. For some reason, in the back of my warped mind, I had pictured an old woman with maybe four teeth left, a thick round face, wild unkempt hair, and heavy eyebrows. I was only partly right. Her hair was wild. The dark brown curls tumbled all over the place, the longest layer just past her shoulders. But her face was oval with high cheekbones, distinctly arched eyebrows, fair-delicate skin, and eyes shaped like a cat’s – a dramatic violet color that seemed to change hues constantly. She was stunning.

  “Welcome to me haim,” she said, waving us in and stepping back. “Come in oot o the cold. Aye, it tis guid tae see ye laddie, an this haes tae be yer bonnie wee lassie!” She took both of my hands in hers looking up at me, and I realized she couldn’t have been more than five foot tall herself, much shorter than me. “Aye, exactly as I thought - a verra rare beauty indeed! ‘Lizbeth it tis, nae?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I stammered, surprised by her compliment, and didn
’t bother to correct her about my name. I was glad my vision had only revealed her silhouette. In retrospect, that obscure view had kept my insecurities and jealousies at bay, and now standing in her presence, seeing her beauty and charismatic charm, I felt nothing but the utmost admiration and respect for the woman. I was quite sure I would enjoy my time here, and already I was drawn to her magnetic personality. Her warm welcome made me feel completely at home, and I felt an instantaneous, albeit uncanny, bond with the woman, almost as though I already knew her.

  She still had a firm grasp on my hands, and not only did I feel the electricity common to all Ravens, I sensed her genuineness. She was quite possibly the most likeable Raven I had ever met, aside from Emrys.

  “Och, weel hae none o that ma’am business. Ye shall call me Sibelle. I told this husband of yers all tha many years ago, he would get all whit he wanted in this warld an he dinna believe me at the first. An here ye stand afore me wi yer black hair, an lookin oot wi yer blue eyes; just like I saw in me mynd. All he hae tae do was the waitin.”

  Her hands were warm and soft, so warm in fact that my cold hands seemed to thaw immediately. Her eyes held mine for a long silent moment. A quick frown fell over her face, only visible to me for a millisecond, but I caught it nevertheless. Somehow I knew she had seen something of my own future, and a quick chill ran up my spine. And then she smiled again, and contagious as it was, I had to smile back, letting any and all worries go. If there were any concerns about my future, she’d be the first to let me know. I trusted her completely.

  She turned to Emrys with open arms. I thought for sure they’d embrace, but she did the same to him: took his hands and held them steady while she greeted him, welcoming him back into her home.

  “Emrys, me lad. I canna tell ye how guid it is tae see ye! Yer learnin tae trust the prophecy haes opened yer eyes tae true love. I ken ye’ll believe me nae matter whit I tell ye now! Aye?”

  He chuckled as he nodded, “Yes, Sibelle. I shall never underestimate your words again!”

  “Come, sit daun and tell me all about yer wedding, how the gathering went, and all thaim who live wi ye at Ravenswynd. I havna spoken tae any o yer guid faimily in a long while.”

  She took our coats and seemed to float over to the closet to hang them. The effect had to come from the full-length dress of purples and blues that she wore, Celtic in design and style, long-sleeved and long enough to hide her feet. Emrys and I sat comfortably on a soft red sofa, and Sibelle positioned herself across from us on an old wooden rocking chair as Emrys told her all about the past few months. Her reactions were hard to read, but many times she’d nod her head as though she was agreeing, or perhaps she was just being kind. Most likely, she’d already “seen” all that he’d told her, and his stories were just a confirmation of each event. She smiled and looked very pleased when he told her the story of the night he turned me. I noticed her eyeing his medallion and nodding when he explained exactly what had happened before the raven’s eye turned red.

  “Sibelle, the prophecy was exactly what you said. You were even right about Elizabeth’s last name of Rose! And, I cannot thank you enough.” Emrys took my hand in his, glanced into my eyes for a moment, and added, “I could not be happier.”

  “Weel, I dinna want tae be the one tae say I told ye so!” She laughed out loud throwing her head back, and then she looked to me, and asked, “Tell me how yer warld haes changed lassie, given yer haund in marriage to none other than the Regent, livin life eternal wi him. An how do ye like the ithers in his guid faimily?”

  I understood everything that she said, and, although I wanted to tell her all about my fantastic new life, my happy marriage and how excellent the Bertrand family had been to me, a deep darkness washed over me like a cold, black waterfall. I didn’t even realize things had been bothering me this much until she asked outright like that.

  “I am very grateful for Emrys and I know our love is pure and eternal. His family is wonderful, and I am so glad my sister and my best friend were both able to join us.”

  “But, ye hae a lot of darkness in yer eyes, lassie.” She leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands, giving me her undivided attention. I felt Emrys stiffen beside me, but I didn’t look at him. Letting out a heavy sigh, I kept my eyes on Sibelle.

  “Go on then - oot wi it. Whit wickedness haes ye daun?”

  Shaking my head, not sure if I should begin, and afraid if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from falling apart. I had been holding it together quite well, not even thinking about Rohan, but here it was, staring me in the face like a never-ending nightmare.

  Emrys squeezed my hand, and answered for me, “Elizabeth is concerned about a rogue vampire - whom we are still searching for. He has not been around for a few months now.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be back, does it?” I said, beginning to fume.

  Glaring at him, I pinched my lips together, catching my manners. But he got my drift:

  I hate it when you do that!

  I took a breath and said in a lower tone, “You left out the slightly important reason why this worries me.”

  Looking back at Sibelle, I noted her eyebrows rose up in surprise, and her violet eyes turned more purplish, but she waited patiently for one of us to explain. I went on, saying, “He means to take me away from Emrys. He started his assaults the same night I transitioned, nearly succeeding in his attempted rape. He has broken into our car and our home, and the last time he managed to kidnap me and take me to a secluded cottage.” I took a breath and added, “It was pure luck that I even got away from him. I think my concerns are somewhat warranted, don’t you?” My hard mocking voice shocked them both to silence.

  I searched Emrys’ face, saying, “Look, he swore to get even with your whole family. Flaming hell, Emrys! He’s already killed guards to get to me!” I had all I could do to keep back the tears now.

  Sibelle sat back and crossed one leg over the other. “Now I understand.”

  “Understand what?” I asked.

  Sibelle glanced at Emrys and gave a knowing look, and then gazed into my eyes.

  “What I saw afore when yer haun was in mine.” She then answered my frown of misunderstanding, and said, “When we touched.”

  “What did you see?”

  I knew it! She did see something!

  Sibelle held up a finger instead of giving me an answer. She addressed Emrys, asking in a most serious tone, “Is this rogue the offspring o the one who defiled yer own mither?”

  Emrys nodded, but seemed to be at a loss for words. I didn’t know if he was troubled about what Sibelle might show us, or just upset with me for talking about it.

  Turning to me with a sudden jerk, he whispered, “I am not upset with you in the least. Please do not assume the worst!”

  I pulled my hand away, making a face at him.

  “I see yer ability tae hear Elizabeth has nae waned,” Sibelle announced, clearly changing the subject at hand.

  “Why, is there a chance it will end some day?” One could be hopeful after all; and at the moment I didn’t care if they noticed my sarcasm.

  “I canna say one way or the ither. But what I do ken, may ease both of yer mynds. If either of ye wee bairns would like tae hear whit it is I hae tae say.” She crossed her arms and took a deep breath, raising her eyebrows again, waiting for one of us to speak.

  Emrys and I glanced at one another and then to Sibelle. No one spoke for several minutes, and the only sound was the crackle and pop of the fireplace. She stood up and then glided over to the hearth, picked up the steel fireplace poker, and after adding another log, used it to adjust the new piece of oak. Afterwards, she stood in front of the roaring fire with her back to us, her hand gripping and flexing on the brass handle of the poker. It was a weird scene, and I wished I could see her face, but something told me she was deep in thought.

  Could she see the future in the flames of the fire?

  For one brief moment
, she grasped the handle using both of her hands, and then just as quickly, set the tool back down in its holder next to the other items in the set. She turned and glided back, her full flowing skirt swishing along the floor, and she sat down on the rocker, placing both hands on the arms of the chair and then she closed her eyes for several minutes. We just sat there, silently waiting.

  Suddenly she opened her eyes and said, “Would ye care for a bite tae eat, or maybe a drink?” Her violet eyes sparkled, and I thought she had forgotten what we had been talking about prior to stirring up the fire.

  I shook my head, but before I could open my mouth, Emrys spoke up for the two of us, and said, “No thank you. We ate just before we arrived here.” He turned to me, picked up my hand holding it lightly in his lap, and asked, “Elizabeth? Are you thirsty?”

  He knew damn well I wasn’t. He had read my thoughts, and fortunately for him, decided not to answer for me this time. It must have been a bit of a slap in the face to be called a wee bairn by non-other than his most favorite prophet in the world. The vampire Regent being called a little baby, how funny was that? But, I had to be honest with myself, and by default, he received the same benefit...I had been acting like a child too. And I was sorry. He squeezed my hand to say he got my drift.

  Are you sorry too?

  Another squeeze.

  We gave each other a brief glance, and then I answered Sibelle, “No, nothing for me either, thanks.”

  Sibelle raised an eyebrow, tapped her fingernails on the dark wood, gave a slow, thoughtful nod, and said, “Weill then, I ken two things.

  Both of us leaned forward in an attempt to pay better attention. Her face took on a more serious expression, her eyes sparkled again, and Emrys reached into his pocket pulling out a small notepad and pen. He readied himself as she began to speak and he wrote everything down as she said each word. I didn’t know he could write that fast and I had to force myself to really listen to Sibelle, rather than watch what he wrote. When she finished speaking, she cleared her throat and excused herself from the room. “I’ll be gone but a wee meenit.”