The White Raven

by Carrie D. Miller

  I am anxious to ask her questions, and I bite the inside of my cheek. We tell her our separate tales and she listens as she chews, not interrupting or questioning. As she lays her plate on the coffee table, a shadow falls over her face. She scoots back into the cushions and rubs her palms on her lap.

  “You’re wrong, though,” she says, looking at me. She answers my confused look. “That’s not why Ren has stayed with you all this time.”

  The bird hops from the chair to the coffee table, looking up at Jo expectantly. Jo looks at her with sad eyes then turns those sad eyes to me. “And I was wrong about why you are cursed.”

  My body shivers involuntarily. I cannot make my mouth work to ask her to explain.

  “How to say this?” Jo looks down at her lap.

  I find my voice. “Just say it!” I lean forward, my hands clutching the armrests, Cal’s hand on my back.

  Jo’s eyes trace the pattern of the rug, and she purses her lips. She starts to speak but shakes her head, finishing the last of her tea in one gulp.

  “Those vision walks I did before, to discover why you were cursed. Boy, did I get those wrong.” She huffs at herself and rubs her forehead. A knot twists in my gut.

  “Seeing the…your vision…your first life…feeling it…made me realize that.”

  I want to go to her as she struggles for words, but my body is stone.

  “Those three men. They hated you,” she exhales heavily, lifting her eyes to meet my burning stare. She shudders. “I knew their minds the second I saw their faces. I’ve never felt such hate before.”

  Jo takes a deep breath through her nose and relaxes her clenched hands.

  “When you reached adolescence, your powers blossomed. The things you could do—they were so jealous, Aven. And your power frightened them, even at such a young age. They knew they wouldn’t be able to control you or get you to follow their ways. Theirs was dark magick. So, they devised a ritual that would not only take your life, but steal your power for themselves. That’s what they really wanted. Your magick. The only way to get rid of you was to make the villagers believe you were the cause of everything that had gone wrong. You were such a sweet, innocent creature.” Her voice cracks, and her eyes gloss with tears. She blinks the tears away and continues. “Anyway, what they planned to do backfired horribly, as we all saw.”

  Chills wash over my body, and my palms are cold and clammy. She’s taking a few moments to collect her thoughts, but I want to reach over and shake the rest out of her.

  “They blamed everything on you, because you were so different, which meant you were evil and false. In order for harmony to be restored, you must be purged from the natural world, for you were unnatural. Why else were you dark-haired and amethyst-eyed when everyone else was blonde and blue-eyed? They convinced the villagers of this and several attacked your family’s farm, taking you. Your mother and father fought so hard to get you free.” As Jo speaks, I recall this scene vividly, and I close my eyes against it.

  “You were a magickal creature of Nature, benevolent and kind, the essence of goodness. When they took your life with their dark magick, it was wrong; it went against Nature.” Her gaze is fierce. “The explosion wasn’t just in the physical world, but in the spiritual plane as well. The blast tore your Spirit, Aven. You are not whole. That is why you cannot cross over.”

  I suck in air and I’m on my feet. Cal is beside me, but I pull away from his touch. Ren flaps her wings and croaks repeatedly. Jo raises her hands. “Now, just hold on. Let me finish.”

  I stand as a statue before her; my hands are fists at my side. The room is getting warmer although chills race across my skin, and I know clouds are forming in the sky. A grumble of thunder prompts Jo to continue.

  “I saw what happened in the explosion. A sliver of your Spirit was ripped from the whole.” She looks at Ren. “It went into the body of the white raven and flew away.”

  “Wha…” I gasp. Ren warbles and her wings twitch.

  “Ren is the other part of your Spirit, Aven. After such a blast, knowing nothing else but malevolence and pain, she flew and flew, desperate to get away, frightened beyond reason.”

  Ren falls to the floor, and I go to my knees to catch her. I cradle the trembling bird as she makes pitiful noises deep in her chest. She pushes her body into my breast.

  That is what happened; that is what I did. I lived it again when I felt the explosion again. Oh, oh. I did not know. I did not remember.

  I hold her as tight as I dare. I bend over my little Spirit, desperate for her to be closer to me.

  Jo sniffs back her tears as she continues. “She follows you because she is part of you. She cannot come near you for the same reason. Like polarities repel. I didn’t realize this before when she talked about how much your energy pushed against her, pushing her away. It makes total sense to me now. I had suspected something, but I wasn’t sure exactly what—certainly nothing like this. That’s why I went to talk to my mother. If I had not seen it with my own eyes, the tearing of a Spirit, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

  Jo’s words are a lead weight in my belly. I fear I may faint. I rock Ren gently, my lips on her head, tears streaming silently down my cheeks onto her feathers. My head is spinning.

  I look up at Jo, blinking away tears. “Did I…” the words get caught in my throat. “The explosion. All those people. Did I cause the explosion?”

  “No, Aven, no!” Jo’s face collapses, and she reaches for me. She’s on her knees before me, gripping my shoulders. “The explosion was the result of their perverted magick. What happened was the consequence of them trying to take your power and end your life. The tearing of your Spirit, your curse, was just…an accident.”

  I almost scream. Accident! What a small word for what has been my fate for thirteen lifetimes.

  Cal, behind me on the floor with his hands on my back, clears his throat, getting Jo’s attention. “Uh, I’m confused, I’m sorry.”

  Jo sighs. “Aven’s Spirit isn’t complete because part of it lives in Ren. Only a whole Spirit can cross over, move on.”

  Cal eyes Jo sheepishly. “This is probably going to sound stupid, but is there a way to…uh…put them back together?”

  My head snaps up and I stare at Jo. Her eyes bulge.

  “Yes!” My eyes are pleading. “Jo, you figured out how to shield Ren against my energy. You sense things I don’t. You can figure out a way to join us back together, I’m sure of it.” I scoot on my knees closer to her, careful not to jar Ren.

  Jo falls back on her heels, her jaw unhinged.

  39

  It is well into the morning and we still lie in bed, twined in each other’s arms and legs.

  “Cal, you have no idea how relieved I am,” I say, nestled into the crook of his arm. He twitches and grunts; I must have woken him. He tightens his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. Knowing that I didn’t kill all those poor people is an immense weight off my heart—and knowing that I am not damned because I took the lives of others.

  “My journey no longer seems endless. There’s a way out. If I can just discover how to join pieces of the same Spirit, I will be free.” I laugh at how simple that sounds.

  “Aven,” Cal says, pulling away slightly to look at me, “please don’t take this the wrong way, but how is that even possible? You’re getting your hopes up, and I hate to think how you’ll be if you or Jo can’t find a way.”

  “I know. But hope is something I’ve never had before—and it’s a wonderful feeling.” I smile up at him, seeing the sad skepticism in his eyes. “I have to try.”

  My phone vibrates on the nightstand—it’s Sylvia wanting to know if she can open the shop. The vibes coming from her mother’s sacred space are freaking her out. That makes me laugh.

  “Sylvia will be over in a minute,” I say, putting the phone down.

  “Darn,” he says, grazing my neck with his teeth.

  Ren perches on my shoulder as I kneel before the black mirror. My two prev
ious trips into the Veil since the night of Jo’s revelation proved fruitless. Neither journey yielded any answers—not even a measly breadcrumb.

  This time, I’ve asked Ren to travel with me. Perhaps with her presence, I will have more luck.

  Our Spirits pierce the swirling black ether together. Ren’s Spirit moves closer to mine; our ethereal matter entwines. We are closer now in Spirit than we have been since we were one so very long ago.

  Something different happens almost immediately. Rather than shying away from me as the Spirits within the Veil usually do, several approach us without hesitation. Their white vapor encircles us, streaming around slowly. What had always been blank faces or clueless stares are now looks of curiosity and wonder. More spectators come and soon we are surrounded. Ren bolts upward, frightened by the unusual attention. In that instant, their faces turn to confusion and quickly move away.

  No, wait! Don’t go! I reach for one, and it speeds from my fingers.

  Ren, come back. It’s all right. When she returns, she melds into my Spirit once more. And what I suspected does happen—travelers stop to peer at this unusual Spirit.

  Ren, look at them! They have never come near me before.

  I do not understand. Why do they stare at us so?

  I think because we appear as a whole Spirit to them, or something resembling a whole Spirit. I don’t have any other explanation. Ren, stay with me. Maybe now someone will talk to me.

  I reach out to the minds of those around us, and they dart away. I follow one and am shocked at the speed of it. It disappears at my touch. While I can approach Spirits now, each darts off when I speak. I grow frustrated and angry as I chase and plead. I travel far and deep; someone must speak to me.

  Ren’s voice is in my head, but I cannot make out her words. I am so dizzy and tired. My physical body is heavy, and all I want to do is lie down.

  She is shrieking in my ear. I feel my body fall to the floor, and I have no energy to pull myself out from the Veil. I am caught within its current, my Spirit being carried along. Ren squawks and screams, beating her wings against my face. Sharp pain stabs at my shoulder, making my Spirit snap back into my limp body.

  I am on my side, gasping for air. Ren is on the floor in front of my face, twitching, her feathers puffed up.

  Too far! Too long! Too deep into the Veil.

  I lie there for a long time, too weak to move or even speak. It will be some time before I’m able to enter the Veil again. Ren nestles before my face, pressing her forehead to mine.

  It is dark outside when I startle awake, hearing Cal’s voice in the shop calling my name. I push myself up with great effort, my entire body stiff and still very weak. I can’t let him find me on the floor again.

  “How’s Bertie working out?” I ask Sylvia when she and Jo come over for dinner.

  “Bertie is so great!” Sylvia beams as she shovels mashed potatoes onto her plate.

  “Who’s Bertie?” Cal asks, mouth full.

  “Sylvia’s new assistant.” I grin at her.

  Sylvia giggles. “Bertie’s from Denmark—she came to the shop last month when she was on vacation. She loved it! She came back last week for an aunt’s funeral. When she showed up, I was swamped! Too many people and only one me. Anyway, Bertie jumped right in, helping people and knowing a ton already about the stuff we have,” Sylvia gushes as Jo smacks her hand away from the potatoes.

  “She wants to stay in America. Her husband is an abusive dick, apparently.” Sylvia makes a face at her mother and relinquishes the ladle.

  “And she won’t let me pay her,” I chime in. “But I insisted on reimbursing her for lodging and food at least.” When I met the portly, middle-aged woman, her pleasant nature and genuine care for the shop warmed my heart. I was happy to get help for Sylvia, especially since I’m spending the majority of my days in search of an answer.

  Ren has her own chair at the kitchen table with a plate of roast beef, potatoes, and green beans on the seat. Arial sits below her chair, staring up at the bird with anticipation of some dropped morsel. Ren obliges frequently.

  “So, I’m starting to freak out a little. The grand opening is, like, a week away! Oh, my Goddess, my hands are sweating thinking about it.” Sylvia rubs her palms on her lap, staring at me with big eyes.

  “How many times have I told you to stop worrying?” I ask, eyeing her with feigned reproach. “You are completely prepared. The guests are lined up, caterers are ready, the DJ comes highly recommended, and all the party paraphernalia—gift bags, door prizes, etcetera—are put together and waiting in the storage room. We are good to go!”

  Jo nods emphatically, mouth full of roast beef.

  “Who’s doing all the decorations?” Cal asks after wiping a spot of gravy from his chin.

  “Me,” I say proudly, receiving raised brows from Cal.

  “Magick.” I wink at him.

  “Of course!” He laughs, raising his glass.

  Jo leans sideways to me, almost whispering. “What did you end up doing with the fairies? That’s the only part I’m worried about, really.”

  “I’ve made them very happy. The fairies will have a night of glorious freedom. I gave them a job! They will be allowed to mill around and interact with the crowd. The queen has signed a binding contract with me that not a single bit of mischief will be made by any fairy. The penalty will be expulsion from the aster, their home.”

  Cal’s mouth falls open. “There are fairies in the front yard?”

  Jo comes over the next afternoon and finds me meditating on the rooftop terrace, bundled in a coat and blanket. The weather has turned unexpectedly chilly in recent days, and the sky is choked with steel-gray clouds. The wind has picked up considerably and has become colder, so we go inside.

  We sit in the living room with steaming hot toddies. Jo sips hers, relishing the warmth traveling through her body.

  “These things are the only reason I don’t mind cold weather,” she says, taking another sip.

  “You look worn out, Jo. Please take a break. I hate the thought of you wearing yourself out because of me.”

  She shakes her head, savoring the flavors of the drink. After she swallows, she smacks her lips and looks thoughtfully at the glass mug.

  “Aven, I saw and felt things in that vision that I can never describe to you. There are no words. It’s those things that compel me.” She takes in a deep breath. “What you’ve been through…it’s just not fair. What happened to you was a crime. If they knew what curse you are living under now, they would be thoroughly enjoying your suffering.”

  My skin prickles at her words. Those bastards would certainly be pleased with the outcome of their deeds, aside from their untimely deaths, of course. Jo has an amazing ability to see things in ways I never could. I take her free hand and hold it tight.

  One side of her mouth curls up, and she squeezes my hand, giving it a little shake. “You are my best friend, lady, so I gotta try to help you as best I can.”

  My heart blossoms. “I feel the same way, Jo. Thanks to you, this is the best life I’ve ever had.”

  With that, Jo looks away and wipes her cheek. She sniffs and then chuckles. “Okay, enough of this. My mascara is going to run.”

  I clear the lump in my throat and pull my knees up to my chest. “So, anything come of your efforts so far?”

  “Nothing!” Jo throws up a hand. “I’ve done everything in my arsenal—vision walks, meditations, rituals—talked to everyone I’ve ever met with any hint of magick in them, and I called Claudia. Oh, Goddess, that was tough.” She groans and looks away. “So, that leaves me with only one more thing to try…and I’m dreading it.” Her face puckers as she stares at her empty glass.

  Indignation blooms on her face. “The Internet.”

  40

  “Okay, you two boys know what you need to do?” Mandy presents a black duffel bag to the taller boy, its contents clanking as she shoves it at him. He snatches the bag, rolling his eyes.

  “Yeah,
yeah, lady, we get it,” he says, his voice filled with teenage arrogance. “We’re gonna break into Dovenelle’s and trash the place. Isn’t that hard to understand.”

  Mandy glares at the impudent, pimple-faced boy. “You need to do much more than that! Weren’t you listening? You need to smash everything! The display cases and everything in them. Tear apart all her precious books and rip up the furniture. Break every statue and figurine. It has to be so bad that she can’t have her grand opening!”

  Mandy’s whole body trembles with fury, and her eyes shoot fire at the two wide-eyed boys fidgeting in front of her. They must understand how important this is! She’d go herself but she can’t risk being recognized, let alone caught.

  Her chest heaves. The tall boy takes an involuntary step back and bumps into a shelf, causing a large ceramic matryoshka doll to wobble. Mandy shrieks and lunges for it, catching it as it teeters forward. She holds it close to her chest.

  “Get out! Now!”

  The shorter boy, standing behind his friend, finds his voice. “Wait a minute, lady. Give us the fucking money you promised.”

  Mandy’s eyes burn into his. “You’ll get your fucking money when I see proof of what you’ve done. Take lots of pictures.”

  She straightens and looks down her nose at them. The tall one glares back at her and opens his mouth, then quickly clamps it shut. Turning on his heel, he punches his friend in the chest and jerks his head for the boy to follow him.

  “And use night mode! Can’t risk anyone seeing the flash,” she calls after them as they slam the door.

  “Fucking little pricks,” she mutters, placing the precious matryoshka back on the shelf. She lovingly strokes it and tells it that it’s okay, that nothing bad will ever happen to it.

  Those stupid dolls don’t mean nuthin’. The harsh voice growls behind her. Her back stiffens, but she ignores him. When is he going to leave?

  I ain’t leavin’ until I’m satisfied you done the job. That bitch has got it comin’ an’ you know it. You want it too.