Raven's Ascent

by Ben Blackwell

  Once again, I was grateful for modern day technology, like an app for ordering food. I could already see myself on the phone, trying desperately to pronounce it right, hoping the person on the other side would know what I wanted. No, I was in the mood for an adventure, not another humiliation.

  The app didn’t judge. The app just confirmed my order, letting me know that the chefs were already cooking my food. Satisfied, I put my phone away and started walking up and down the room.

  “What’s next, Raven? What are you gonna do now, you daring badass?” I whispered to myself. “Oh, I know,” I continued after a moment, grinning. “I could reorganize the living room, style up my humble home.”

  With renewed determination, I picked up a pot with my plant in it. Singular, as my other plants had died a few weeks ago. As I looked at the lone survivor, I noticed some brown spots on its leaves.

  “You don’t look too good, either, huh little planty? Let’s get you some water then, okay?” I whispered in a childish voice as I held the plant up to my face.

  “Wow, I’m talking to plants now,” I chuckled, shaking my head in disappointment as I walked over to the kitchen. I poured half a glass of water into the pot, hoping that would be enough. It would be so much easier if plants could talk, or at least bark to tell me how much water they needed. But nooo, all they could do was survive or die. Why did I even keep it around again?

  On a whim, as I was on my way back into the living room, I decided to put it in a different place. Instead of putting it on the far right of my TV stand, I put it higher up, on the shelf above it. A couple of books were piled there, which I neatly organized as well.

  After watering my plant and finding a new place for it, I kept moving things around. Which was harder than it seemed, as I had very few decorations in my home. No picture frames or posters, not a lot of souvenirs, and certainly no fancy antiquities or rare items on display.

  Only one thing made me stop. Carefully placed on my bookshelf, there was a small crystal necklace. It was a good-luck charm, supposedly a magical one. It did have a faint smell of magic on it, but my belief in its helpful properties was probably stronger than any spell that had once been cast on it.

  And yet, I picked up the delicate piece carefully, holding it up to my face and breathing it in it. It smelled like early summer, warm and friendly, like a colorful meadow and freshly plucked berries. It smelled like Evie. She had gifted it to me many years ago, when I was still a little girl.

  Her voice echoed in my head as I looked at it. Take this, it will keep you safe and bring you luck. And remember, when something happens, you can always come to me.

  I swallowed hard, holding back a tear as I put the necklace on, holding the small crystal with one hand. It felt only fitting to wear this in her memory after I helped banish the evil spirit that killed her.

  When the doorbell started ringing furiously, I was pulled out of my thoughts. “Yeah, I’m coming, jeez!” I shouted angrily, stomping over to the door.

  I took the plastic bag out of the surprised delivery guy’s hand while staring him down fiercely, then barked, “Thank you, have a nice day!” and closed the door in his confused face.

  Only then did I realize that I was still wearing my silly pink pajamas, which probably made me look a lot less threatening and more like a crazy person.

  But as the smell of the hot curry hit my nose, spicy and exotic, my thoughts quickly dissipated, and my stomach rumbled. I calmed down as I got some plates from the kitchen and sat down to eat. Food had that kind of effect—my mom always used to tell me that there was nothing an excellent meal couldn’t fix.

  Of course, she was talking about the problems I had as a kid. I doubted that a good meal could fix supernatural attacks, someone dying, or being possessed by an evil spirit. Then again, we hadn’t tried it, so I couldn’t be sure.

  But it always cheered me up. Especially since this… whatever it was, was pretty damn good. Spicy, but good. I lay down on the couch again after I was finished and went through some movies Netflix was recommending me. But after a minute, I realized that I just wasn’t in the mood for it anymore.

  “What is wrong with you, Raven?” I mumbled as I got up got up and started pacing up and down the living room. “You finally got a day off, and you can’t even enjoy it?”

  Suddenly, my phone rang. I eyed it suspiciously for a few seconds before walking over. I rarely ever gave out my phone number, only to very few clients. Maybe it was the delivery guy complaining about my angry outburst?

  I glanced at the number, but I had never seen it before. “Hello?” I hesitated as I picked up.

  “Hey Raven, this is Octavian. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

  My frown deepened. I certainly hadn’t given him my number. “Oh. Actually, I’m pretty busy here. And how did you even get my number?!” I grumbled at him through the phone.

  “Allard gave it to me. Listen, there has been another attack. This time it killed one of the Elders at home. Lazar. Anyway, we don’t know yet what it was that killed him, but we have a lead. Allard said I should call you,” the vampire explained.

  “Someone’s really after the Elders, huh?” I replied sarcastically. “Let me think.”

  My instinct was to hang up immediately. Not only because some vampire had gotten close enough to me to casually call me on my phone, but also because running after danger wasn’t really my style. Not the kind of danger that killed an Elder, at least.

  But as I looked around, I realized that there were only so many places that I could move my plant to, only a few more movies to watch before I lost my mind and became a crazy cat lady. Or dog lady, more likely. Although the thought of half a dozen dogs running around my apartment wasn’t that bad.

  “Fine, I’ll make time,” I sighed into the phone. “What’s the plan?”

  “Great. I’ll text you the address. Meet me there,” he replied cheerfully, then hung up.

  I scoffed at the phone angrily. When I asked someone about the plan, I wanted to hear the goddamn plan! Seconds later, a message popped up on the screen. “Here’s the address. Bring your weapon.”

  I didn’t know the address that came after it, but it was in Summersong Hills—the favorite quarter for witches with the means to buy an apartment there. Supposedly, there were leylines deep under it, which made spell casting easier somehow. I didn’t know much about it, but I remembered overhearing it in the Blind Eye.

  I sighed once again, then shrugged and put the phone down.

  Guess it’s time to get dressed.

  But this time, I was getting dressed to kill.

  6

  The wind howled through the streets and blew colorful leaves around, spinning them through the air. In the afternoon sun, it was a wonderful sight.

  It was the perfect time to take long walks near the forest, where everything turned from lush green to all the shades of brown and red. But today, I was on a mission.

  Since Octavian had said to bring a knife, I decided to come in my full combat outfit. Black leather boots, in a style somewhere between classic women’s boots and sturdy hiking shoes. Functional and reliable, but also stylish. It had taken me almost a year to find a pair like that, so I bought a dozen, just in case.

  Together with my dark gray leggings, my tight black T-shirt, and the leather jacket I wore over it, no one would guess that I was dressed to kill. I could pass as a slightly-more-badass-than-average woman, which was exactly how I wanted it.

  Without an impressive, decorated armor like that of vampires, attackers underestimated me. ‘She’s just wearing leggings and a T-shirt,’ they would think. But the leggings were custom-made, thick and reinforced with carbon threads, still stretchy enough that I could move unhindered. The T-shirt wasn’t as thick, but offered more protection than one might expect. In combat, I usually had my jacket closed, anyway. And somehow, most people forgot that just because it looked like a jacket, it was still leather. The same as leather armor. It didn’t offer as much
protection, but was not to be ignored.

  Also, three years ago, I had asked a witch I had helped to enchant it with a rune of protection. A worst-case ace-in-the-hole if things got out of control.

  And of course, my trusty sword. It was light and thin, with a straight blade. It was light enough to let me use it comfortably, and small enough for indoor fighting, but its sharpened blade could still easily cut through almost anything, except maybe metal armor. But then again, it was 2020—metal armor was so out of style.

  Since the sword wasn’t exactly low key, I wore a simple, black coat over my outfit, to hide the sword that was hanging from my belt in its sheath.

  As I looked into the window of the shop I was passing, I couldn’t hold back a slight smile. I had never specifically decided to wear so much black, and yet I looked like some ghostly warrior. With my fair-skinned face, just tan enough to not be pale, my black, smooth hair framing it, and my dark-red lipstick, I wasn’t exactly the most colorful person on the street. But hey, I was Raven, I might as well look like it.

  I checked my phone again to make sure I was still on the right street. I might not have had any locator spells, no magic to guide me toward my target, but I found the maps on my phone to be just as useful, if not more. Suck it, witches.

  It would be five minutes till I arrived , supposedly. Also, there was a five-star Italian restaurant just around the corner that was closing soon. The map suggested checking it out, and the pasta did look delicious. Another day, maybe.

  My mind wandered to Octavian, why he had invited me on this mission, and why I had agreed. He had proven to be less annoying than I expected him to be. Not a dimwitted brute like most other vampires. I rarely took jobs where I had company, but he was capable enough. Still, I wasn’t big on someone following me around.

  As I was thinking about what was to come, about Octavian and me hunting through the city, I was filled with a strange feeling. Like nervousness, but in a good way. My pace was fast, my legs almost bouncing a little, but not because it was impatient. I was… excited.

  I stopped. No I’m not. It’s just another job, and I only took it because I was bored, I told myself. But as I slowly continued walking, careful to not get bouncy again, I couldn’t help but look forward to it. Not only for the money, or because I had nothing else to do.

  It was something new, something bigger than robbing some street gang, or escorting someone out of the city. I was in the middle of the action, dealing directly with the Ring of Elders, solving dangerous mysteries, hunting through the city with a badass, handsome vampire and kicking bad guy ass.

  I had always scoffed at paranormal action movies, the kind with a couple heroes killing vampires or zombies, a cliché love story, and of course, a happy end. That just wasn’t what real life was like. But right now, it almost felt like that.

  Only my vampire wasn’t quite the brooding-yet-sexy bad boy that I had immediately fall in love with, and I wasn’t some helpless teenager discovering that I was the chosen one or something. Who somehow always survives, despite failing at even the simplest tasks.

  Nope, it was definitely not like in the movies. But while being involved in something bigger than my usual jobs was out of my comfort zone and made my skin itch, it was also a lot more interesting. There were mysteries to solve, evil masterminds to catch, and a lot more money to be made.

  I looked at my phone once more as I arrived at my destination. I double checked the address, but everything was correct. Before me was a very regular looking apartment complex. It was new, probably built in the last few years. From the looks of it, it wasn’t exactly the cheapest location to live in, though.

  It had private parking spots, a small garden, and balconies on the sides of the building. As I looked up, I could see glass banisters on the roof. Like the roof top was designed for elegant events and parties, or maybe there was a pool. Certainly not the kind of building that I lived in.

  Someone had once kicked in the door to the small courtyard in my building. It was still broken, months later. It took a week until a dead cat was removed from the sidewalk in front of my building, and I was pretty sure it had been taken by a gang of kids on the street and served as a dinner. This was definitely a different kind of building, in a different sort of neighborhood.

  I took a deep breath, then walked up to the gate and tried opening it. But of course, it was locked. Unsure how to proceed, I checked the names of the inhabitants on the panel. None of the names sprung out to me, no Lazar and no other name I regonized.

  This would be easier if I knew his last name, or had his apartment number.

  With a sigh, I pulled out my phone to text Octavian. Before I could send a text, a figure emerged out of the shadows of the hedge. Startled, my hand reached for my sword, but I kept it sheathed.

  “Are you Octavian’s girl?” the man asked quietly.

  “What? No, I’m not!” I responded quickly. “Oh. He, uhm, is expecting me. But I’m not… his girl.” I added after a second, realizing what he meant to say.

  The man, his face expressionless, nodded at me and pushed the door open. “Follow me, quietly.” As he started walking toward the building, I followed and caught up with him. Of course, it had to be dramatic and mysterious.

  I didn’t like unknown plans, mysterious locations, and shadowy figures. At all. I liked clear, thought-out plans, a location I had scouted out, and no unknown variables. That was how I had stayed safe and alive throughout my bumpy career.

  But I had to admit, letting myself get pulled into this mystery, chasing after danger with an unpredictable partner like Octavian made my skin itch, but just as much with excitement as with nervousness. Not knowing what would happen next was a terrible sort of fascinating. Like a horror movie you already knew was going to end badly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn it off.

  The man, his face still expressionless, led me into the building and up to the second floor. There was a buzz in the air. Two people were standing in front of an apartment, whispering, but apparently in a heated argument. They weren’t angry, though. It was something different. They seemed nervous. Scared, even.

  The man walked straight towards them, and they immediately got out of the way as they saw him. I followed him, briefly nodding to the pair respectfully, unsure whether I should greet them, and if or how they were involved. They might be neighbors, confused about what the fuss was all about. So I kept my mouth shut and followed the man into the apartment.

  I couldn’t quite place him. He wore casual jeans, a washed-out gray T-shirt, and an open faux-leather jacket on top.

  Could be a vampire. I sniffed softly, but I couldn’t make out any magic smell. Probably a low-level vampire. Or… could Octavian have regular humans working for him?

  I got pulled out of my thoughts when we arrived in the living room. It was a complete mess. Partially, because Lazar apparently hadn’t been the tidiest person. But it also looked like he had fought his attacker. Chairs were knocked over. The coffee table was broken in half, like someone landed on it full force. There were books and papers strewn throughout the room and on the floor, like someone knocked over a bookshelf. And then kicked the books around for a bit for good measure, .

  And in this whole mess, five people were carefully trying not to make it any worse. Octavian, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a brooding look on his face. He was watching a witch, who was standing next to the kitchen table with a map, chanting quietly. She looked young, her face was soft and gentle. She was wearing a simple pullover with a flower motif, and colorful strands brightened up her hair. She could have passed as a high school girl, like the unpopular bookworm. Maybe she actually was, even though most magicals were home-schooled, to avoid accidentally revealing their powers in a public school.

  Allard was standing next to her, quiet and unmoving, his face furrowed with worry. His outfit was, very formal and thoughtful, even if a little old-fashioned. His shirt was a light beige tone, with brown dress pants, dark blu
e suspenders, and black leather shoes.

  Two other people I couldn’t identify were standing over Lazar’s dead body. They were carefully investigating it, both physically, looking for wounds, and analyzing the events that led to his death based on the chaos in this room. A task I did not envy.

  “Octavian, she’s here,” the man said in a deep voice, then turned around and left.

  The two people near Lazar’s body and Allard started from the sudden voice, their heads jerking in our direction, their bodies tensing up visibly. They looked over to Allard, waiting for his reaction.

  “Um, hi,” I mumbled, my hand doing a pathetic attempt at a wave.

  Dammit, Raven, you gotta be more confident around people.

  Allard sighed and smiled at me. “Oh, it’s you,” he whispered. Then he turned back around, watching the chanting witch, who had held her concentration admirably well, not even flinching while everyone else was startled.

  Octavian pushed himself off the wall and walked over until he stood right next to me. “Come, let’s get out of here,” he whispered and put his hand on my shoulder, to gently lead me out of the room.

  A shiver ran down my spine when his whispered voice tickled my ear. His fingers grazed over my shoulder. I definitely didn’t like it when someone came that close to me, but it was certainly nicer when it was a handsome, powerful vampire, not some drunk dude in a bar. Still, I pulled my shoulder back, and he got the hint and removed his hand from it.

  Seconds later, we were in the kitchen, and he closed the door behind us. “Now we can talk freely, without disturbing the witch,” he said in a normal voice. “We don’t know a lot yet, but someone killed Lazar and took at least two magical items, a ring and a dagger. The witch has tried tracking Lazar’s ring first, but couldn’t find anything. It seemed like it was resistant or shielded against tracking, she said. Now she’s trying to find the dagger. As soon as she gets a hit, we are going after it. I’m a little concerned about a magical ring that is specifically protected against finding it, though.”