The Raven Wars, Book Two: Chapter 6

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.

The note was short. Eva had read it twice. The first time, she picked it up from the living room table where he’d left it, each word sinking deeper with uneasiness in her body. She stood in the kitchen, staring at it after reading it a second time, but not registering Simon’s handwriting any longer.

She’d already memorized his words, and they repeated in her mind. Tim came by. He needed my help in Dysmortia. I’ll explain when I get back. I love you.

She knew Tim. She knew what Simon going to Dysmortia meant. What she couldn’t settle was that he’d known she was at Hazel’s. He could have come to her first.

The front door opened. She turned, hoping to see Simon walking in. Her brother sulked in, instead.

“Isaak.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“It’s great to see you too, sis.”

“Sorry, I thought you were Simon.”

Isaak walked past her into the living room, looking concerned. “He isn’t here?”

“He’s in Dysmortia.” Eva followed him in. “Tim came by in the night. He left a note.”

Her brother’s eyebrow raised. “Tim?”

“Yes.” She sat and gestured for him to do the same.

“And he didn’t tell you before he left.” It wasn’t a question. He knew Tim’s arrival could only mean urgency.

“He knew I was at Hazel’s. He could have come.” She set her hands in her lap. “He had his reasons. I know he had his reasons. It’s just… “ she stopped.

Isaak looked at her a moment, then rested his hand on hers. “You’re worried.”

“Of course I’m worried.” The words came out sharper than she meant them. She exhaled. “I just wish he’d waited.”

Isaak didn’t speak for a moment. Eva knew he didn’t have any words that would bring her comfort, even if he tried. The light outside had faded to a dim amber, the hills lost in clouds.

“Aron told me you came by looking for me the other evening,” he said, changing the subject. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’ve been,” he paused and looked out the window, “distracted.”

Eva’s heart sank. This was the last conversation she wanted to get into right now, but Isaak needed to know about their father and what she’d learned from Willow, Mady, and Gavit. First, she had to know he was okay.

“Distracted.” She kept her voice even. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged, still not looking at her. “It means I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

Eva let his aloofness slide. Something was off, and had been for a while. But she wasn’t going to get it out of him tonight, not like this. She knew better than to push. She filed it away and took a breath.

“There’s something I need to tell you. That’s why I came by the other evening.” She hesitated. “It’s about our father.”

Isaak went still. “What about him?”

“The woman who came to the Hall of Meeting—the one Sol and Willow recognized. Her name is Mady. She’s our mother’s sister. She faked her death years ago and went into hiding because she was afraid for her own life.” Eva paused. “She told me something about our father. Something she’s been keeping all these years.”

Isaak looked at her, and for the first time in a long time, Eva saw a glimpse of the light behind his eyes, which made the next part even harder to deliver.

“Our father was killed, Isaak. Thrae had him murdered. The story that he died of heartbreak after Mom died was a cover.” It took everything in her to keep from breaking all over again. “Mady knew. That’s why she ran.”

Isaak didn’t move for a long moment.

“Why are you telling me this now?” His voice was flat.

“Because you deserved to know.”

When Isaak finally spoke, he didn’t look at her. “Is that everything?”

The quiet stretched between them. Eva had expected something—anger, at least. His apathy tore at her heart.

Doesn’t this bother him? Eva wondered. But she couldn’t dwell on it now. There was more to say, and she was determined he would hear her.

“No.” She watched his profile. “That’s why I came by the other evening. But there’s more you need to hear, and I need to know you’re listening.”

His eyes moved back to her, slow and cool. “I’m listening.”

“The nightmares have returned,” Eva said. “The same as before the war.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “And there’s something else. The fog that comes at night isn’t natural. Simon and I saw it blanketing the meadow. It makes a clicking sound, like something is alive inside it.” She stopped. “Pulsing, Isaak. Like it was breathing.”

He looked at her for a long moment. His eyes were pale in the low light. “Does Simon know? About the dreams?”

“He does.” She watched him. “Have you seen the fog?”

“A few times.” He said it the way someone might mention the weather.

Eva felt the first edge of frustration. “Snap out of it, Isaak. What’s going on with you? Doesn’t any of this bother you?”

He stood. “Mind your own business, Eva.” The words came out harder than either of them expected. “Stop worrying about my problems and focus on your own. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

The words swung hard and sharp, landing in her chest.

He looked at her for a moment, jaw set. The expression on his face wasn’t remorse exactly, but Eva saw the recognition of what he’d done set in. He sat back down.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He ran a hand over his face. “Something’s wrong with me. My scar has been bothering me again.” He shook his head. “I can’t remember chunks of time.”

Eva wrapped her brother in a hug. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

She squeezed him tighter, as if she could wring the pain and the darkness out of him and make it all go away.

“I’m not so sure this time, sis.” He patted her once on her back and pulled away. “I do care. About dad, about what happened to our parents. It’s just so much at once, you know?”

Eva nodded. It was too much, and she felt that neither of them could carry another ounce without breaking, but they had to try.

“The scar on your back,” Eva said slowly. “The anger and disappearing time you can’t explain. The fog.” She watched him. “Isaak, what if the black magic that attacked you never really left? What if what we thought we destroyed with Amicus isn’t gone?”

He went very still.

“No.” The word came out rough and immediate.

“I know, I’ve been trying not to think it, too. But I think it’s time to accept it as a possibility.”

He stood again, and she thought he was going to walk out. Instead, he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, turning his back to her.

She knew the scar. She was the one who found him after he was attacked. But she hadn’t seen it since that day. Seeing it here now, red and inflamed, the letters cut into him as a message meant for her was like another punch to the gut.

Next time he dies.

“The scar isn’t going anywhere, Eva,” he said. “So if you’re right, and if I’m somehow tied to whatever is out there, “ he turned to face her, his spine curling forward, his voice cracking, “then what? What does that mean for me?”

Eva stared at him, knowing she would die before letting anything worse happen to him.

“It means you’re not alone in this,” Eva said. “Does Aron know?”

Something shifted in his expression again, revealing the slightest glimmer of remorse this time. Eva knew… Aron was his safe person, and lying to her tore him up inside in ways he didn’t have words for. She knew, because that’s what she felt at the thought of lying to Simon.

Isaak pulled his shirt back on. “Every time I try to open up to her, something stops me. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not fear. It feels like… “ he hesitated “…like something doesn’t want me to. Like something wants me to stay in the dark.” He said it simply, without fear, which made it worse.

Eva looked at him carefully.

“We’re going to find out what this is. And we’re going to stop it before it takes hold the way it did before.” She walked her brother out to make sure he got home before the fog began to spread, and kissed him once on the cheek before he departed.

Morning came without word from Simon.

Eva stood beneath the Tree of Gathering, white flowering leaves drifting from the branches above her, and centered her energy. She breathed slowly. Her amulet warmed at her chest. The earth’s energy rose through her body in a deep, familiar way—restoring, strengthening, settling her nerves enough to function.

When it was done, she opened her eyes, amber flooding into them.

Meditation didn’t respond to her the way it used to. She didn’t know whether it was the tree, still healing from the destruction it had endured, or her. But even restored, she felt the weight of everything.

“Eva.”

Hazel approached with Ivy against her chest. She took one look at Eva and her brow furrowed. “Still no word?”

“Nothing.” Eva stepped away from the tree to meet her. “Isaak came by last night. He’s not well, Hazel.”

Ivy cooed softly. Hazel’s expression tightened. “What do you mean?”

Eva gave her the short version and the connection she couldn’t stop drawing between all of it. Hazel listened without interrupting, which she rarely did.

“Oh,” she said when Eva finished. “That’s a lot.”

“Be extra cautious, and keep Ivy inside after dark.”

“After what Mindel and I saw the other night, we have no intention of going out after dark.” Hazel shifted Ivy higher on her hip. “Are you going to call a meeting to let everyone else know?”

Eva leaned down and kissed Ivy on the forehead. “Once Simon gets back, I will call a meeting.”

~

Eva walked toward the Hall of Meeting to hold council alone. She could already hear the concerned complaining. Surely others had seen the fog by now.

The Vitalists she passed avoided her gaze. She probably looked terrifying. Or they were still afraid of her. Some of them had been since last spring, since the river, since the transformation. Word had spread fast. She hadn’t been able to hide it. In the beginning, it came without warning: one moment a small, quiet woman, the next a white raven, larger than it should have been, standing where she’d stood. Onlookers had seen it happen more than once before she could control it.

It was a blessing. She knew that. It had saved her and Simon both and bound them together in a way that nothing could break. It had also given them a life longer than they’d otherwise have had. But not everyone saw it that way.

Inside the Hall of Meeting, only two Vitalists waited.

Eva paused in the entryway. They turned to study her, and she knew immediately they weren’t here about crops or a boundary dispute. Sol and Willow never came to council to file complaints. They came to observe. The sunlight broke through the gaps in the stone roof where the vines had grown too thick, casting thin lines across the floor.

Eva sat down and looked at them. Sol first. He had the stillness of someone who had been waiting a long time for this moment. Then Willow, whose expression told her nothing and everything at once.

“How are you holding up?” Willow asked.

“Ask me again when Simon gets home,” Eva said. She wasn’t going to pretend otherwise, not with Willow. “Simon’s gone to Dysmortia. Tim came for him in the night.” She kept her eyes on both of them. “And the fog is getting worse. You told me that night at the gathering that something was stirring. I’ve been watching it spread since.” She leaned forward slightly. “Why are you both here?”

Willow and Sol exchanged a look. They shared a kind of communication that didn’t need words.

Willow rested her hand over Eva’s. “We know, dear. We’ve been watching too.” She paused, seeming to choose her next words carefully. “We’re here because we fear that once again, only you will be able to stop whatever darkness is coming.” Her eyes held Eva’s steadily. “But first, Sol needs to ask you something.”

Sol twiddled his fingers against the edge of the table. “Have you noticed anythin’ else? Beyond the fog, beyond what you’ve said. Anythin’ that’s unsettled you.”

Eva’s stomach tightened. Sol had done this once before. He asked her questions he already knew the answers to. The last time was when the Sages had refused to tell them what was coming. He’d known then what it meant, before the rest of them.

“Isaak,” Eva replied. And then she told them. The scar, the anger, what he’d said about something stopping him from talking to Aron. She even shared her dream, and she watched their faces as she spoke.

When she finished, Sol looked at Willow. Willow gave a small nod, as if something had been confirmed.

“There’s something we need to show you,” Willow said. She glanced at Sol. “You must come with us, Eva. Now.”

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

• If you’d like to read the original version of the books 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.