The Raven Wars, Book Two: Chapter 2

Below is a chapter rewrite from Book 2: The Raven Wars of The Raven Dreams Trilogy. If you’d like to read the original series, you can get it here.

It was an hour from sunset when Mindel, Hazel, Simon, and Eva put the finishing touches on the Meadow. Tree stumps had been made into tables, each with its own tiny firefly-filled lantern. Branches were bent and lashed with strips of softened wood, coaxed into the form of a vase, one flower standing in each.

The platform the Sages had used for the weapons had been cleaned and set for the musicians. Three tables stretching ten feet long were filled with fruit, nuts, teas, soups, and pies. The last touch Hazel added was brilliant lights strung over the tables, which highlighted the thin lily pads folded into balls, each holding a firefly.

“I’d say a job well done,” Simon said.

“Yes,” Eva agreed. “And none of it would have been possible without Hazel.”

Hazel blushed but looked proud that the thing in her head was now standing in front of her. Eva didn’t know exactly why, but she understood that tonight had mattered to Hazel in a way that went beyond the decorations. The last few months had been difficult, and some Vitalists hadn’t carried the emotional scars well. She suspected Hazel was one of them.

Eva sent energy to her amulet, lighting the others and calling them to the gathering. Warmth spread against her skin, and an amber glow told her when the invitation was complete. Those around her looked down at their own amulets as they lit in response. All except Simon, who didn’t wear one. Not yet. Since his father had been a Vitalist, he would complete the Bonding Ritual and receive his own amulet in time.

More Vitalists trickled into the Meadow. The first few gasped in appreciation when they arrived. “They love it, Hazel,” Eva said.

Hazel relaxed, smiling at everyone’s reaction as they approached and found seats. Ivy smiled too, cradled in her mother’s arms. They took the table up front by the stage—Hazel and Mindel with baby Ivy, Eva and Simon beside them. Six seats had been saved, but there were only four of them. Where were Isaak and Aron? They were supposed to have been here hours ago to help set up.

“He’ll be here,” Simon whispered. “And he’ll have a good reason for why he’s late.”

Eva nodded, knowing he was right. Isaak wouldn’t go back on his word unless something important had come up.

Hazel stepped onto the stage. “Welcome, everyone! Thank you for joining us on this special night of celebration.” Applause rose in response. “We have food, music, and dancing, so I hope you enjoy. None of this would have been possible without all of you showing up.” She paused, smiling wide. “So let’s get this night started. I better see you all dancing.”

The Vitalists clapped, faces bright in the firelight. Nearly all of them had arrived.

“She was born for this,” Simon said quietly, watching her take her seat.

“She really was,” Eva agreed.

Simon pulled Eva close. “So are you. You’re a born leader.”

She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear, wanting to believe him, even though she didn’t. She looked up and kissed him.

“Whoa. Too much love over here.” Eva pulled back. Isaak stood in the gap between tables, Aron beside him, looking apologetic.

“Where have you been?” Eva asked. Isaak turned to Hazel, who looked livid.

“I’m sorry, Hazel. I know how important tonight is to you.” Aron took her seat without making eye contact with anyone.

“We could have really used the help, you know?” Hazel asked, not actually expecting an answer. “And you promised to help me today.”

“Hazel—”

“Tell me what was so important you couldn’t be here,” she said, her voice gone flat.

“I can’t,” Isaak said. He stared at the ground, shifting his weight.

Eva watched him. She had a feeling Hazel’s anger wasn’t really about the setup. But Isaak’s silence wasn’t helping either of them.

“Hazel, why don’t we forget about this?” Eva said. “Look at them. They clearly feel terrible.”

Hazel stood, Ivy still asleep in her arms. “This is between Isaak and me,” she said. “When he’s ready to tell me his reason, I’ll gladly listen.”

She walked away to another table. Mindel lingered a moment, glancing around at each of them as if deciding whether or not to say something. Then he shrugged and followed her.

“Well?” Eva asked. Isaak met her eyes.

“Not now, Eva.” He stood, took Aron’s hand, and pulled her toward the dance floor.

Eva watched them for a while. She understood why he hadn’t wanted to confide in Hazel. But why not tell her? Isaak spun Aron in a circle. She looked awkward on her feet.

“Do you think it’s anything to worry about?” Simon asked, watching her watch her brother.

Her logical side said to let it go. Isaak was known for not oversharing. But a nag deeper down told her this wasn’t as simple as all that.

“It’s definitely strange,” she said.

Simon stood and offered his hand. “Care to dance?”

Eva was an even worse dancer than Aron. Too self-conscious to move with the music without worrying how foolish she looked. She hesitated. Simon looked almost relieved she did.

“We don’t have to,” he said. “I’m not that good a dancer anyway.” Then, he nuzzled his face into her neck. “But I’d like to try, with you.”

She took his hand. He led her to the edge of the dance floor, where the crowd was thickest, and they could disappear into it. They didn’t really dance so much as merge in a slow sway that had little to do with the music and everything to do with the fact that they were both still here, together.

His hands were warmer than they should have been. Not uncomfortably so, but in a way that felt almost elemental. A current beneath the surface, she knew, was his dormant powers.

“Aron looks a little down, don’t you think?” Simon said, still swaying.

Eva watched her over his shoulder. Aron wasn’t making eye contact with anyone, not even Isaak, though he was trying. She answered him with brief smiles and small nods and nothing more.

“She doesn’t seem herself,” Eva said.

The music stopped. Hazel’s voice rang out from the stage, slightly too loud, her words carrying a softness at the edges that told Eva she’d had a cup too many.

“I hope you’re all enjoying your evening. Tonight is a celebration for all of us. A reminder of what we’re meant to live for. Many of us have forgotten how to have a good time, and rightfully so.” She paused, looking up at the night sky. “I know I have.” She raised her cup. “We’ve been through a lot. Too much… but, here’s to leaving the past far behind us.”

The Vitalists raised their cups.

A tap on her shoulder pulled Eva’s attention from the stage.

“Hello, Eva.” Old Woman Willow stood smiling at her, silvery hair draping down her back.

She reached past Eva and squeezed Simon’s hand in greeting, then drew them both gently toward the edge of Goldengrass Meadow, past the food tables, to where a few stragglers stood too deep in their cups to notice anyone.

“Mady and Gavit are resting at my home,” she said, once they were alone. “We spoke this afternoon. It was a long conversation.” She looked at Eva steadily. “I wanted you to hear this from me before any gossip can begin.”

Eva waited.

“Gavit has been sensing something for some time now.” Willow paused, and Eva had the sense there was far more being left unsaid. “The darkness didn’t leave, not truly. It’s still in Isaak, and it’s beginning to affect the land again.”

Eva felt Simon’s arm tighten at her waist.

“That’s why they came,” Willow continued. “That’s why Mady finally brought him out after faking both of their deaths all those years ago.” She said it gently, the way someone delivers news they’ve already made peace with. “I’ve noticed it too, in my own way. I haven’t said anything because I didn’t want to create a panic, but now I can’t deny it any longer.”

Eva didn’t speak for a moment. “It’s over,” she said finally, though it came out quieter than she intended. “The darkness is gone.”

Willow looked at her with something like patience. “I know that’s what we hoped. I can’t say much more here, but we’ll talk soon.” She squeezed Eva’s hand once, then turned and walked back toward the music.

Eva watched Willow dancing alone, unbothered, as if the conversation at the edge of the meadow had already left her. That was when Eva noticed something shifting in the darkness beyond the tree line, at the foot of the mountains.

She moved toward it. “Eva?” Simon followed. “What is it?” “Something’s out there.” She pointed to where a dark, misty fog rolled over the river. “That doesn’t look normal.”

He stepped up beside her, squinting. The fog didn’t stand still. It rolled and churned, expanding and contracting as though it was breathing, spreading and thickening over the water until it blanketed not just the river but the entire mountainside behind it.

“I think we should get everyone home soon,” Simon said.

Eva nodded, still watching it. A chill started at the base of her spine. Simon’s hand found her arm and drew her back toward the celebration before the fog could spread toward them.

Another hour passed. The fog continued to thicken in the distance, creeping closer to the Meadow. Eva hadn’t taken her eyes from it. Only a few Vitalists remained on the dance floor, a handful huddled at a table. She and Simon waited until the last of them filtered out. Hazel moved around the tables, gathering food.

“You’ve done enough tonight,” Eva said. “Simon and I will clean up tomorrow.”

Hazel smiled softly, eyelids heavy. “That would be wonderful.” Mindel appeared beside her and together they left, little Ivy huddled between them.

They were the last ones in the Meadow. The night air was cool beneath a clear, starlit sky, but Eva couldn’t look away from the fog, now close enough that she could watch it breathe.

“What do you think it is?” Simon asked. His voice was flat.

Eva took his hand and stood close to him.

A soft sound reached her, pulling her attention from his question. “Do you hear that?”

Simon stiffened and nodded.

“What is that? Is it coming from the fog?”

They stayed still. The fog was the wrong color. It wasn’t grey but a deep, midnight black. Eva had assumed it was the shadow of the night, but now, with the meadow lights behind her, she could see she’d been wrong. And the sound was almost a clicking, so faint it was barely there.

“C’mon,” Simon said. “Let’s go.”

Part of her wanted to stay, a curiosity she couldn’t explain, but Simon’s gentle beckoning won out.

~

Eva sat with Simon at the small wooden table. Her home. Their home. Her parents’ home. The firelight caught the pale of his skin against his raven-black hair.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She looked up, realizing her arm was raised halfway to her mouth, cup of tea in hand.

“Yes,” she said, setting it down. “I was just thinking.” She exhaled, shoulders dropping. “Something about that fog is bothering me.”

“I don’t feel good about it either,” he said. “You almost died. So did I. Isaak isn’t himself. And now Willow is telling us the darkness never left, and that fog appears the same night… it’s uncanny.” He took a sip from his cup.

Eva’s mind went to the night she’d almost lost Simon. She couldn’t deny what had brought them both back. It couldn’t all be for nothing. Yet Willow’s words and the blackened fog sat uneasily with her.

~

Cool air moved around her body, whispering past her ears. There was no other feeling like this. The wind beneath her wings made her light and untouchable. Ahead, the sun sank at the edge of the open sky as patchy clouds gathered in the dark.

She flew high, gazing down. The sight sent a chill straight into her chest. It wasn’t Amortera below her; it was Dysmortia, vast and cold. But it wasn’t the unexpectedness of Dysmortia that unsettled her. It was what covered the land.

Something moved beneath the thick fog. Too slow, too unnatural.

She swooped lower, fixing on the shadows. Something was very wrong. Her body went cold. Then she heard the sound, and her breath caught.

It was almost a language, but nothing she’d heard before. The things gliding below were communicating in clicks and crackles, like hundreds of bones snapping at once. She hovered low and forced herself to stay.

Deep laughter echoed in her ear. She turned toward the creatures, but none of them seemed to see her. The laughter grew louder, closer, as though it was directly behind her. She spun around, expecting something terrible.

Nothing.

You cannot see me, a deep voice breathed into her ear. But I see you. I’m always watching you. You think you’ve won. This is just the beginning.

She spun in the night sky, searching. There was no one. She was alone.

Below, the clicks and crackles grew unbearably loud. The voice had not been her own, and yet it was familiar in a way she couldn’t place. In the blink of an eye, she was no longer above the fog. She was on the ground, in her human form, and the shadows surrounded her. Their faces were barely there, hollow and hungry, reaching out to drag her down.

“No!” She reached for her sword. It wasn’t there. “Get away!” They closed in until there was only black.

~

“Eva.” His voice came from somewhere distant.

His hand was on her shoulder, but she barely felt it. She was still in the dream, still consumed by the disembodied voice.

“Eva, wake up.” Simon’s whisper sharpened, and she came back to him.

She turned over in bed. His face had gone very still in a way that frightened her more than he probably intended. She got up and went to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror. Her face was grey, her skin damp. The dark circles under her eyes had returned.

“This isn’t real,” she said to her reflection. “This can’t be happening.”

“Eva.” Simon appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

She shook her head. The images were already flooding back, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to say them out loud.

“You were shaking,” he said. He came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She felt his warmth and let herself breathe, slow and deep, just for a few seconds.

“I had a nightmare,” she said. She gently removed his arms and walked back to the bed, sitting down and covering her face.

“One of those nightmares?” He sat beside her but didn’t touch her.

She didn’t answer. Then she lifted her head and looked at him. She nodded. For Simon, that was enough. He understood what it meant. Just as she did, even if neither of them was willing to say it.

• Read all the chapter shares and behind-the-scenes from Book One and Book Two here.

• If you’d like to read the original version of The Raven Wars to see how the story evolves and changes in the rewrite, you can get a copy here.

Some journeys ask us to go deeper than we expected. If you’re in one of those seasons, I’d be honored to sit with you through the cards.