Lucky pecked halfheartedly at a passing beetle, wishing he could be anywhere but here, talking to anyone but Miriam.
But he was stuck.
“If you was really murdered by faeries,” he sighed, “things get tricky. You being out here in the woods, on the edge of their territory. They do have some rights under the ancient laws. I mean, let’s just hope you weren’t lost when they found you–because that would be really bad.”
Miriam said nothing.
The raven’s eyes went wide.* “For the love of fresh squeezed gizzards, tell me you wasn’t lost when they found you.”
The ghost girl began to wobble and melt, but managed to pull herself back together. “I… I was lost.”
Lucky let out a long, low whistle. “Well that puts a snake in your nest for sure. Thing is, you can’t really do much about it.”
“Why not?”
“There are rules about this sort of thing.”
“I never heard of any rules!”
“Think about it,” said the raven. “How’d you learn about faeries in the first place?”
“Well, my dad used to read to me from an old book of spooky tales. But those were just stories.”
“Ah! But what if all those old faerie stories weren’t really about being good and honest and obeying your mum and dad? What if they were a warning, telling you about real dangers, watching and licking their lips just beyond the firelight?”
“That’s… impossible,” said the ghost girl, but her voice lacked conviction.
“Welcome to the world of the impossible. A real faerie, or fae, would just as soon stab you in the throat as say howdy-do. And if you stop one to ask for directions they’d pluck all your feathers, wrap you in poison ivy, and toss you in a viper’s nest for fun. Then, as your life drains away in flashes of venom and fangs, the last thing you’d ever see is a wistful grin and waving little hand. That’s the faerie world.”
“I don’t care,” Miriam said at last. “Those–those faeries–they tricked me!”
“Which they tend to do. On purpose, even. Best thing might be for you to sit and think things through till you decide you’re not mad about it anymore.”
“Decide I’m not mad anymore?” Miriam’s ghost began to pulse, sending out shimmers of light and energy. But Lucky did not notice.
“Sure,” he said. “You know. Get over it.”
“I don’t want to GET OVER IT!” Miriam began to expand in size, like a hot air balloon inflated by rage.
Looking up, Lucky-I-Ain’t leapt backward with a flutter. “Hang on! You shouldn’t be growing till you're a level three ghostie. That’s what it says in the manual.”
“Then your manual is wrong.”
“Please,” Lucky begged. “All of this is highly unusual and I’m not trained to deal with it appropriately. If you can just wait till one of the other Death Ravens is available–”
“I’m done waiting. I’m off to find the faeries who did this to me. And then I’m going to kill them. All of them.”
“But… But... it doesn't work that way! Completely counter to the rules as written. You’ll get us both in big, BIG trouble!”
The ghost girl scowled at Lucky. “Try and stop me.”
The raven watched, horrified, as Miriam breathed in the surrounding ether. He marveled at how her ghostly particles wove themselves into muscle and sinew. At how she attached herself to a breath of wind and gusted toward the river like a swarm of gnats. He’d never seen anything like it.
“How are you doing this?” he flapped after her.
“I… I don’t know. I made a wish.”
“A wish? Wait! Slow down! I can still help you! There’s a dozen lessons to go over still! Dangerous characters to watch out for!”
“No thank you.”
“But there’s far worse things than dying that can happen to a ghost! I haven’t even read you all the warnings!” In response, the ghost girl let go of her visible form, ethereal particles dispersing into pure white smoke.
“Goodbye,” was all she said.
And then, what was left of Miriam disappeared into mist.