Page 21 of Heart of the Raven
His presence beside me was warm, comforting, and I leaned against his shoulder as he put his arm around me, pressing me against the hardness of his chest. And even as my eyelids closed, I knew, deep within my soul, what I would do.
Chapter Nineteen
He was gonewhen I woke, and somehow, someway, I was not surprised. A long, black feather lay on the ground, as though it had fallen from one of his enormous wings. I picked it up, holding it with both hands as I strode out of the wildwood, and toward the dusty road. Several times I peered back, wondering if he was still there, if he watched me walk away. My journey had been so quick through the wood, and yet, I knew I’d left my heart within it. Even a drink of water did not stop the dryness of my throat or the aching in my chest as I walked away, my magic tingling within my stomach.
As Raven had promised, the walk to town did not take long. Within an hour I arrived at the gates of a city that was much larger than I expected. My heart sank as I walked inside and followed the wide, cobblestone road toward the center where I could hear shouts and merriment taking place. I racked my thoughts, sure it was not time for a festival, not yet. Midsummer would be the next feast, and yet it seemed the town still celebrated. When I rounded a corner, I saw what it was. A market like none I’d ever seen before. Buildings rose high above my head, their structures elegant and chiseled with symbols and faces of perhaps gods and goddesses of old. But in the middle was an open area with booths lining each side of the street and people calling out their wares. Horses and wagons went by, women shouted at children as they dashed through the streets or climbed on rooftops, shouting at each other in a game of chase. A wild dog trotted by, sniffing the street for scraps of food.
A sweet perfume in the air quickly overcame the scent of unwashed bodies and I followed it, moving through the crowded marketplace, searching for the booth of a fortune-teller. Surely it was fate that had led me here on this day, to find Mother Misha and ask her the truth about who I was and what my magic meant. Although a dark suspicion hung over me, that even though I fled the wildwood, somehow, someway, just as it was with my cousin, my own future was intertwined with it.
I turned, searching anxiously, and I collided with a woman. The impact almost knocked me off my feet and my arms whirled, trying to regain my balance as the woman gave a cry. Her basket tumbled onto the cobblestones, scattering a collection of brightly colored packets. My initial reaction was to turn up my nose and demand that she watch where she was going, a reaction that died on my lips as I realized two things: I no longer looked like a noble lady, and reacting in anger would not help my situation.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. She was already on her knees, snatching up the items and thrusting them into her basket. “I’m always daydreaming and never watch where I’m going, it’s my fault, are you alright?”
At her last words she looked up at me, tucking her curly hair behind her ear. She was young, around my age, with a wide, honest face, and sparkling eyes. I reached for the last packet and handed it to her. When our fingers touched, a sensation went through me and a flash of a vision began on the edges of my mind.
A storm. A field of lightning. Dark blue hair and…a knife with runes on its blade.
I stepped back, stunned. “Yes, I…” I trailed off. “Actually, do you have a moment?”
The woman raised her eyebrows as she tucked the basket under her arm. “I’m Rae.” She smiled. “Are you new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
I nodded. “I’m looking for someone.”
“Oh, I can help.” She beamed. “I live just outside of the village but my sister and I come here for market day, isn’t it exciting,” she went on, bouncing up and down on her toes. “We don’t know everyone, but I’ve lived here my entire life. Who are you looking for?”
Her exuberance was rather contagious, and I relaxed in her presence. The way she moved and talked reminded me of Mari’s light-hearted nature, and a sorrow pierced my heart. “My grandmother is a fortune-teller,” I explained. “She lives here, or she did a while ago. I need to find her.”
Rae wrinkled her nose, eyes darting around the booths. “A fortune-teller. Wait. Do you mean Mother Misha?”
“Yes.” My fingers trembled. I was so close to discovering the truth.
“Oh.” Rae’s brow furrowed as she studied me. “I’m sorry,” she reached out to touch my arm. “She passed this winter. I thought. . .I assumed her family knew.”
Disappointment rocked me, and my shoulders slumped. “She’s dead?” I confirmed, my mind reeling. All this travel. . . for nothing.
“She went peacefully,” Rae squeezed my arm. “She was old, it was her time.”
“Oh.” I twisted my fingers together while panic raced through me. Dead? What would I do now?
“Listen, I know we are but strangers but if you’re a friend of Mother Misha, you’re a friend of mine. Come sit with my sister and I for a while. Once market day is over you can come to our farm and enjoy a warm meal and a place to rest before you decide what to do next.”
I blinked hard, trying to keep tears from brimming over and sliding down my cheeks. How lucky I was, to lean on the kindness of strangers, something that would have been embarrassing if I were still who I once was.
“I didn’t know Mother Misha had children,” Rae went on. “She was quiet, and kept to herself, but I thought something had happened in her younger days, to make her come here. She always had a hunch toward the future, and I wondered about her past, but now. . .”
“Those who are unique often become outcasts in my family,” I told her bluntly.
Her eyes went soft. “That must be hard. I’m sorry she passed before your arrival.”
But as I followed Rae back to her booth, I wondered if it was only a twist of fate.
Chapter Twenty
Rae’s sister,Maraini, was kind, warm and friendly, just like her. Although she was quieter, she made notations of everything that sold before they loaded up again and the wagon lumbered onward, further north until we left the bustling village in the dust.
We arrived at their farmland before sunset, and when I stepped off the wagon into that land, visions flashed stronger than they had before. I was reminded of the words the Queen of the Wildwood had spoken to me.
I studied the rolling meadow, the manor house with the barn just beyond it, and a garden full of new green shoots. I whirled to face the sisters, a question burning my lips. “You are the lore keepers. Aren’t you?”
