Page 61 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
My hair whipped around my face painfully, and my cheeks had never felt so raw.
But I hadn’t made it all this way only to give up.
My shaky fingers dug into the doorframe, nails scraping the wood painfully as I tugged myself forward.
A flat narrow strip of planks speared the tip of the roof–the tiles had to be cleaned somehow.
Just as I fought with myself to step forward, a dark form appeared to my right.
I flinched back, only to see a black raven diving straight for me. On instinct, I reached my hands out to protect myself.
But the bird wasn’t interested in attacking me. He kept flapping its wings my way, as if trying to push me back inside.
He came close enough for me to notice his feathers were so black, they almost had a blue tint when the light caught the tips. His eyes were unlike any raven I’d ever seen–clear blue, bottomless, and ancient.
As I lowered my hands slowly, the raven relaxed and flew backward, landing on the narrow strip and looking at me disapprovingly.
As a Vegheara, I had a soft spot for birds of prey–especially ravens.
I’d seen them work together with wolves during hunts, play together, and mourn their dead.
Aquila had been named after one of their closest relatives.
But this raven unnerved me.
Not losing sight of him, I raised my foot slowly to step outside.
The raven flapped his wings maniacally and cawed at me like I’d insulted him.
I was in no state to entertain a crazy bird.
I placed my foot down, the snow and wind searing right into my bones.
The raven cawed louder and made a move to push me back again.
This time, I didn’t flinch.
“What, you think you’re the only one who can scream?” I stared at the raven androared.
All the tension, all the anger, all the disappointment spilled out of me, rushing through the stones and clashing with the wind.
Let them all hear I still had enough fight in me to shake the mountains.
The raven stopped flapping, fell back, and cocked his head at me like I was crazy.
Maybe I was.
I licked my lips, my throat raw, and nodded at him. “That’s what I thought.”
Under its judgemental gaze, I finally stepped onto the roof.
The gusts were so powerful, they almost threw me off. My heart plummeted as my balance struggled, the ground not visible from this high up.
I crouched as fast as a pit settled into my stomach, digging my hands into the planks.
The raven cawed, more gentle this time, as if trying to say, “I told you so.”
I just had to find a condescending bird in this frozen wasteland.
