Page 18 of Heart of the Raven
My muscles ached, and all I wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep. But the thought of a bed, an actual bed, gave me strength. “Then lead on,” I told him.
Raven led the way to the mouth of the canyon while I peered nervously at the sky. Darkness crept across it faster than I realized, and by the time we reached the swinging bridge, the last glimmer of sunlight blazed in the orange sky. I watched it and swallowed hard. The bridge wasn’t what I thought it would be. When I imagined a bridge, I thought it would be like the ones in the village of Whispering Vine, wooden bridges with railings on each side and secure boards, strong enough to hold a horse and wagon. But this bridge was made of rope, with planks of wood at the bottom. The darkening light made it difficult to see how steady it was, but Raven called it the swinging bridge, and as a gust of wind whipped up, I could see why.
The end of the canyon seemed so far away. I clasped my hands together and rubbed my thumbs over my wrists as my throat went dry. Warm bed or not, there was no way I could cross over the rope bridge, either in the dark or by daylight. I took a tentative step away from it and glanced at the trees, hoping there’d be a place to sleep. Instead, golden eyes started back at me.
A cry of fear left my lips, and I reached for Raven’s arm and pointed. “What is that?”
“Wolves,” he said. “Hungry wolves. There are several of them and I don’t have time to build a fire to keep them away. We have to cross.”
There. My fate was set. The wolves or the bridge. “Okay,” I squeezed his sleeve and tried to summon as much bravery as I could muster.
When his rough hand touched mine, I startled. “I’ll be with you,” he said. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was a slight comfort as the light faded from the sky. “Walk ahead of me. If you fall, I will catch you.”
His words almost made me laugh. “Are you sure it will hold us, I don’t want to die. Here.”
“Like I said,” he thrust out his chest, “if you fall, I will catch you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and reached for the rope. It was old and rough against my palms, but it held. Raven kept a hand on my waist as I took my first step out above the canyon. It was probably good that it was dark, for my stomach clenched and as the bridge swung. I thought I would be sick.
The bridge gave a sickening creak at my next step and swayed, ever so gently. Below us, water rushed over stones, and I wondered if this was the river that later turned into waterfalls. If we fell, we’d be tossed in the waters, and if we survived, washed up, somewhere. But deep in the gorge it seemed impossible, and I had no doubt other terrors awaited us in the water. Heart hammering in my throat, I dared myself to take another step, attempting to trust Raven and his meaningless words. How could he catch me if I fell, for he’d fall too?
Through the haze of my fear, I heard stirrings in the underbrush. As the last light of sunset disappeared, a long, woeful howl went up. My shoulders tensed and goosebumps broke out on my flesh as the sound carried through the air. An answering howl went up.
“We have to move faster, they will chase us down,” Raven said.
“I thought wolves did not attack unless provoked,” I protested, my voice shaking.
“All creatures are provoked here,” Raven replied.
But I couldn’t move faster. When I tried to, my limbs froze in terror of moving too quickly and sending us over the edge. I inched my foot onto another wooden slat and it shattered. I screamed as I pitched forward, even though Raven’s arm tightened around my waist and my hands squeezed the rope, hard enough to leave indentions on my palm.
“I can’t do this,” I pushed back against Raven. “Please, take us away from here, do something to the wolves but I don’t want to die on this bridge out here.”
“Sasha, Sasha,” he said, breaking through my panic. “I have you. Now turn around and put your arms around my neck.”
Hiccuping away tears, I took a deep breath, trying to twist my body without letting go of the rope. Raven’s hand on my waist gave me courage. I flung my arms around his neck and buried my face in his cloak. A whooshing sound made me open my eyes. As Raven’s arms encircled me I saw wings unfurl from his back, great black wings as dark as night. In one bound we were airborne and he lifted us up, flying over the canyon into the wood on the other side.
Chapter Sixteen
“You can fly,”I breathed when we landed in a glade. White moonlight shone down, allowing me to see the shades of ebony on Raven’s wings. They arched out from his back and hung almost to his feet, giving him a wingspan of about twelve feet. I stared in awe and reached up to run my fingers over them.
Raven pulled back, his eyes shadowed as he folded his wings on his back. One moment they were there, the next they were gone, and only his cloak of feathers remained.
“Are you a shape shifter?” I asked, raking my mind for the lore and fables I’d heard about the creatures in the wildwood.
His jaw tightened, and he scrubbed his hand over his face. “Some call it is shifting, but I am who I am. I can stand here in human form. I can use my wings to transport myself wherever I wish. I can shift into the form of a raven, my most dangerous form, and watch whom I please. I bind magic where I see fit, and I am the bringer of death. I am all these things, and yet, you don’t run.”
A sudden weariness gripped me and I stumbled back. “You have given me no reason to fear you,” I said.
“You see how others react to me, and yet. . .” he trailed off, likely recalling our conversation the day before. “Stay close, the hut is near.”
Within no more than five minutes, Raven pushed his way through a hedge. I followed, although the bush poked at me, as though it had little fingers and laughed at me. Faintly in the distance I heard howls, and shuddered, knowing that wolves were still out there. But we’d escaped. For now.
Raven paused, pulled aside a bush, and opened a door. “You must duck,” he called out, and disappeared. Blindly, I searched for the opening he’d found, my hand met by Raven’s warm one. “Step down.”
The air was still within and smelled of old leaves and moss with hints of pine. Raven moved about in the darkness, as smoothly as though he could see in the dark. Perhaps he could. I shuddered while I waited, and the coolness of the spring night gathered around me. But there was no wind, just the uncanny stillness.
“How do you know these safe houses will be empty?” I asked.
