Pixie-Led (Book 2 in the Twilight Court Series) Page 27
And I'm certain that I'm not done yet.
Author's Note:
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Raven Mocking
Chapter One
The shrill cry of a bird assailed my ears as I walked over the dry grass. I winced and searched the barren sky, squinting in the glaring light of the sun. Another cry came from my right and I ducked just as a crow swooped by.
“What's your problem?!” I shouted. “Why are you bugging me? I did right by Cailleach; she was pardoned.” The crow dive-bombed me again. “Stupid crow!” I shouted and gestured insanely at it.
“It's not a crow,” a voice very like my own said. I looked towards it and saw myself standing against a backdrop of Native American tepees. The land stretched out behind the conical tents, ending in a pink horizon. The sun was setting; twilight coming.
“Why am I talking to myself?” I asked her/me/it.
“Because there's no one else here,” she/I shrugged.
“Oh okay,” for some reason it made perfect sense. “What do you mean it's not a crow?”
“That's a raven,” she pointed at the bird who was now circling above our heads. “Heads up!”
I ducked as the foul fowl took another pass at me.
I'm going to shish-kebob you, bird!” I shook my fist at it because that's what one does when ravens try to peck your eyes out.
“It's only trying to tell you something,” she/I shrugged.
“That I should take up bird watching?” I huffed.
“In a way,” she smiled and I wanted to wipe it off my face. Her face. Whatever.
“Just spit it out,” I snapped. “When did we become so fey?”
“Aren't you smart enough to figure it out? You're supposed to be this big sparkly Twilight Princess.” Her voice turned into that annoying sing-song tone used mostly by kindergartners.
“Are you mocking me?” I balled my hands into fists. I was about to pull a Tyler Durden and kick my own ass.
“No,” she went serious, “but they are,” she pointed up to the sky, which was now full of ravens. They swirled together, the beat of their wings thrumming beneath the sound of their cries. They dove at me and I screamed.
“Seren!” Tiernan was suddenly above me, shaking me awake.
I sat up, pushing him aside as I looked around the airy bedroom. The silk comforter was rumpled around my feet, where Cat (my puka companion who was actually closer to a dog in appearance) crouched, staring at me warily. Through the web of delicate night-blooming jasmine that formed a canopy over my bed, I saw the crystal dome set into the ceiling. Through that I could see the night sky, full of fey constellations. The stars of Fairy sparkled the same as in the Human Realm but they weren't placed the same. Probably since Fairy was in another universe entirely.
“Seren?” Tiernan, my fairy boyfriend and Lord of the Wild Hunt (I have to add it or he'd be mad) gave me another little shake.
“I'm okay,” I laid my hand over his. “Stop shaking me.”
“You screamed,” he accused.
“It was just a bad dream,” I sighed and laid back down.
“Oh,” he pulled up the covers and snuggled in beside me.
“Damn mocking ravens,” I muttered.
“What did you say?” Tiernan bolted up.
“Ravens,” I frowned and sat up too. “They were dive-bombing me and then I told myself that they were mocking me.”
“You told yourself?” Tiernan frowned.
“Crazy dream stuff, never mind,” I waved it away. “Why does that upset you?”
“Raven mockers?” He lifted a brow. “I know you've heard of them.”
“Raven mockers,” I whispered. I had heard of them. Why hadn't I made the connection? “Those fairies that steal life from the dying and old? I've always wondered why they did that. Why steal the few years left to an elderly person or a sick person?”
“Easy targets,” Tiernan scowled, “and no one is suspicious when they die.”
“But they don't even need life,” I shook my head. “They're fey so they're immortal, aren't they?”
“Yes, they're immortal,” Tiernan sighed. “It's not the extra time that they're after but the energy of the life. It gives them a boost of power. It's energy that they crave.”
“But if they get caught, they'll be extinguished,” I argued.
“Have you ever caught one?” He lifted a pale blonde brow.
“Well no but they keep mainly to the American Northwest,” I chewed at my lip, remembering the tepees.
“No, they don't,” Tiernan said softly.
“What?” I growled.
“They get noticed in the Northwest because Native American shamans have learned how to spot them... and how to kill them.”
“Right, there's a ritual,” I nodded.
“Takes seven days though,” he shook his head. “They don't always kill the mocker.”
“So you're telling me that these fairies could be sucking the last bit of life out of people all over the Human Realm?” I clenched my hands in the comforter.
“Yes,” he admitted. “The Wild Hunt tries to keep an eye out for them but they're smart, they know how to fly under the radar.”
“Literally,” I rolled my eyes.
“You're not asking the right question, Seren,” Tiernan was grim and I hated it when he was grim.
“What?” A chill coasted over my arms and I swear I heard the cry of a raven in the distance.
“Why are you dreaming about raven mockers?”
About the Author
Amy Sumida lives on an island in the Pacific Ocean where gods can still be found, though there are very few fairies. She sleeps in a fairy bed, high in the air, with two gravity-defying felines and upon waking, she writes down everything the voices in her head tell her to. She aspires to someday become a crazy cat lady, rocking on her front porch and guarding her precious kitties with a shotgun loaded with rock salt. She bellydances and paints pictures on her walls but is happiest with her nose stuck in a book, her mind in a different world than this one, filled with fantastical men who unfortunately don't exist in our mundane reality. Thank the gods for fantasy.
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