Good riddance!
The raven flapped away as fast as his wings would carry him.
None of this was in the job description. There had been no trainings about ghosts vs. faeries or clashes of magic and wishes except for the simple fact that he wasn’t supposed to have anything to do with any of it.
He soared past his tree, past the railroad tracks, toward the town where Miriam’s father had only just started to wonder where she’d run off to.
And on my day off, too! he grumbled to himself. I had plans pal around with the vultures for a bit. Maybe steal a peck or two at some squirrel entrails–they’re extra nutty this time of year. But no… Now there will be an inquiry and they’ll ask why I didn’t stay with her and I’ll say…
Lucky didn’t know what he’d say. That he was scared? That Miriam was the one who’d left him? That he had no idea what to do? But he knew deep down that those were just excuses.
Not that anyone would ever know he’d abandoned the ghost girl.
“And even if they find out,” he muttered after several more minutes of flying, “what’s the worst they could do to me? A written reprimand? A black mark on my permanent record? A demotion at the very worst. That don’t seem so bad…”
ZZZAAAAP! A bolt of lightning split the cloudless sky right in front of him.
“Pure coincidence,” he continued. “Atmospheric anomaly. Another sign of global warming.”
A second, double lightning strike came in response.
Okay, he thought. Perhaps someone had been paying attention.
But Lucky had finally had enough. Puffing out his chest, the raven pulled himself up to a flutter.
“Hey!” he cawed at the sky. “I have done everything as is required by my oath of service. Handbook says in unusual circumstances I should refer to my direct supervisor, who is, uh, currently unavailable. So I will track them down presently–whoever they are–and if I can’t find them, then all of this will just have to wait till tomorrow.”
Can’t say it any plainer than that, thought Lucky.
Back to squirrel guts and vultures for me. And sorry for your luck, ghosty girl, if you get yourself into trouble you can't manage.
But then, in a true display of atmospheric anomaly, the most powerful strike ever recorded of multi-directional lightning crashed from no fewer than 13 directions all at once.
And all of it centered on a single point an inch away from the end of a raven’s beak.
Lucky’s whole body went rigid. His jaw clattered like a teapot on boil as his tail feathers twitched at impossible angles.
He was getting a message... from HER.
The voice of Lady Death crackled with electric energy. WHAT HAPPENS TO THOSE WHO ABANDON THEIR CHARGES, LUCKY? DEMOTION, TO BE CERTAIN. ALSO DISMEMBERMENT. PLUS ETERNAL TORTURE.
And then, while Lucky reconsidered his attitude, the sky returned to a striking, crystal blue.
“Right-o!” the raven cawed into the air. “Now that I’ve thoroughly thought through my plan I’m off to do my sworn duty!” And, just in case, he added, “Been waiting for just this opportunity!”
Leaving behind all thoughts of food and nests and fancy flying with vultures, Lucky wheeled back toward the forest to try and pick up Miriam’s lingering trail of magic.
Like a canine tracking a scent, the raven sensed death’s magic as a faint glow hovering above the forest floor.
But now it had been so long that only hints of the magic remained.
The sun sank behind the trees with Lucky racing after every wisp of fog or trick of the light. Deeper and deeper he dared into what he knew to be a forbidden realm, whispering the girl’s name as he flew. “Miriam! Ghost girl! Come back!”
Then, circling above a treeline, he spotted a shimmer along a row of pines.
The raven swooped down to investigate. There she was!
“Miriam!” he cawed. But the ghost girl couldn’t hear. Or perhaps she was working too hard just to make herself move. Her ghostly particles scraped along the ground like the rattle at the end of a viper’s tail. Almost as if she was tracking someone or some… thing.
Another kind of shimmer. More of a twinkle, really.
What is that? Lucky wondered.
It couldn’t be… the glow of a… a faerie?
Oh poop.
Although he hadn’t exactly lied to Miriam, Lucky knew less about faeries than he’d let on. I mean, he knew for certain that there were little ones and big ones and mean ones and downright nasty ones; ones with wings and ones with tails and others with horns and spikes. All of them were dangerous, most of them murderous, and none of them could be trusted.
Lucky counted more than a dozen faeries of all shapes and sizes bobbing through the trees. The biggest one he was pretty sure was an ogre. Behind that was something with the long, lithe body of a half lion, half drakon. Littler ones hopped, skittered, and fluttered in between.
He let out an involuntary caw.
The lion half of the mixed monster twitched its ears toward the raven. Its eyes followed. It locked him in a hungry stare and ran a forked tongue between an impressive set of fangs.
Lucky shivered.
Faeries. Why did it have to be faeries?