Page 4 of Sanctuary with a Dragon
I... might be the animal.
Mirror. I needed the stand-up mirror in my bedroom.
I squirmed and wriggled until I fell off the side of the bed, my heart racing, my thoughts spiraling. A terrified, strangled sound left my throat as I stumbled on awkward feet (claws?) toward the mirror.
I sucked in a shaky breath as I got the first good look at myself.
I was a black bird. My arms were no longer. Now, they were wings. And my feet were indeed claws with very sharp talons at the end. I was... the size of a small cat? I didn’t know, but I was pretty big for a bird.
In college, I'd taken a biology class that covered the differences between crows and ravens. I think... I think I was a raven.
I blinked at my reflection, trying to see myself in the bird standing there—and something weird happened. A thin membrane slid across my eyes sideways, then retracted.
My bird legs became roughly the consistency of jello and I fell... ahem, gracefully sat down.
Okay, I was officially freaking out now.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to yell at my Gran. And I’dneveryelled at my Gran. But, and I say this with love, I really feel like she should have given me more than 24 hours notice that I might end up abird. But, seeing as she wasn't here to yell at, and, you know, I couldn't speak, yelling wouldn’t be possible.
Ohhh, Gran, you are so lucky you’re not here right now.
My little bird heart pounded like crazy, and I was starting to feel light-headed. Were birds supposed to get lightheaded? Suppose I managed to fly, and then got lightheaded and crashed? Ugh, Everly. Not now. I quickly shook the catastrophizing thoughts away. I needed a plan. Somewhere to go. Someone to help me. And, side note, how was I supposed to ask for help like this?
Okay, okay. Gran said in the note that there was a hidden paranormal world. She mentioned a warlock in her letter—the one who'd given my matriarchal line its magic. So maybe... I could find a warlock?
But again, how would I even explain myself and what I needed? I sat thinking about it a moment, feeling weirded out as I stared at my raven eyes in the mirror.
The letter!
I'd had the odd impression to stash it in a ziplock bag yesterday! That should protect it if I had to fly around with it in my beak.
Okay, one problem solved. I could communicate with the letter. But how did I find a warlock?
Better yet—I looked around my apartment—how would I even get outside? I didn’t have any hands, and I was seriously vertically challenged at the moment.
From my hunched, trying not to fall over position, the world around me looked... strange. The colors weresurreal. I was picking up on dimensions of color that my human eyes couldn’t see. I faintly remembered something about ravens seeing in the ultraviolet spectrum, and I found this true as I looked at the items in my bedroom. Most of the items I knew were painted a single color, and yet, to my raven vision, they looked like a crazy rainbow. I noted, as I moved my head around on a swivel, that I had amazing depth perception—but also a surprising amount of side vision.
So weird.
I scanned my apartment again, focusing on a method to get me out of here without hands.
Then I spotted the chimney. I could use the chimney flue! It was almost always open—Alaska was basically a very pretty popsicle—and I'd just had it cleaned.
I took one last glance at my raven reflection, then attempted to flap to my kitchen table. This did not go over well. It turned out that flapping properly required rhythm, which I sadly lacked. After using my beak, and scarring my kitchen chairs, then hopping around some, I was able to get to the letter on the table. I tried to grab it like I would as a human—with my hand—then, when my feathers passed right over it, I overbalanced and fell on my face.
Ugh. This body was going to take some getting used to. I lay there for a moment resting and closed my eyes. All the new things were hurting my brain. Seeing differently, learning how to move differently, remembering Ididn’t have hands anymore... I sighed. Okay. I could do this.
I scrambled up again and, much slower this time, took the bag in my beak.
Success!
Great. Now I just had to get up the chimney.
Ha ha ha. Oh man, this was going to hurt.
I tried several painful approaches before settling on standing atop the fake logs in the fireplace and flapping my wings hard. I was uncoordinated, and I bounced off the soot-stained walls of the chimney flue, but it was working!
When I reached the top, I paused, catching my breath. Man, that was hard work!
